Page 97 of Brainwashed
“So you’re not attracted to Dr. Templeton?” he asks.
I snort out loud. “Is that a serious question?” He stares blankly at me. “He’s not my type, let’s just put it that way.”
Dr. Love nods as if he understands. And I’m about to lash out at him again, when I realize that he kind ofdoesknow my type. After all, I’ve been telling him all about Cameron and Emmanuel, and my other exes, all of whom were sort of similar. Not in looks, necessarily, but in personality.
“Okay, then,” he goes on. “If you’re so convinced that you’ve reached all levels of sexual gratification, prove it.” I give him an odd look. “Tell me about the best time you’ve ever had.”
I practically choke on the air in my lungs. “You want me to… dowhat?”
“Tell me about the best sex you’ve experienced.” He sits forward. “The most toe-curling, back-arching, muscle-straining, and skin-chafing orgasm for Felix Darcey. OrThe Carver, whichever one of you had it best.”
I can’t even help how him saying those words, in that tone, looking the way he does, makes me wriggle like a worm on a hook. My balls throb, and I bite my lip to keep myself in check. It takes me a moment to even focus on what he’s asking of me. I’m too busy thinking about how he knows all those things…
I don’t think he’s as boring in bed as I was accusing him. Something tells me he’s a fucking powerhouse.
My fingers slide along the velvet as I remember the feel of his large body beneath mine right here on this couch last night. His pouty lips, the light scratch of his facial hair in my palm while I held his jaw.
I stifle a sound, clearing my throat to disguise it. “I, um… I remember one time. Number seventeen.” I pause with my neck on fire. Dr. Love doesn’t look the slightest bit affected by the conversation. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
His head tilts. “Why wouldn’t I? I asked.”
“But you’re obviously super straight,” I mutter. “You sure you want me to tell you all about my hottest gay sex experience?”
He squints at me. “Felix, what kind of homophobe do you think I am?”
“I didn’t mean that…”
“I’m yourdoctor. I’m here to learn from you, and I need to know all the aspects of your crimes. Also, you’ve told me in detail about your killings. What makes you think I’d be fine to listen to that, but not about you sleeping with another man?”
Point well made, Dr. Smartypants.
I gulp down the excess saliva in my mouth. “Well… Jax was the guy. Seventeen. I’d met him in the park, and he came home with me, like they usually did. We took a shower together, and he ate my ass for like a half hour. It was really the first time anyone had done that to me for an extended period of time.” I squirm. “I guess I liked it a lot.”
His gaze narrows. “Youguess?”
“I did,” I correct myself. “And then I fucked him without a condom and came inside him. He was begging for it.”
Dr. Love’s finger twitches visibly. “Did you do that often? Have unprotected sex?”
“No,” I tell him honestly. “He told me he was good to go, so… we went. I don’t know… I knew I was going to kill him, so I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
“You were already thinking about the kill? While you were having sex?”
I nod slowly and rasp, “Even before the sex.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Do you think that’s why you got off the way you did?”
I stare at him in silence for many heavy seconds before I nod again.No point in lying.
Instantly, his face is swept up in that fascinated expression again. The one that makes me feel both like a zoo attraction and a precious work of art, simultaneously. It’s strange, the contrast. I don’t know how he does it, but I think I like both.
Dr. Love’s eyes flick to the phone on the table, then back to mine. I can read his mind, the question he’s asking me in this moment.Can I?
So I nod, and he reaches over, pressing a button on the device to begin recording.
“Tell me about Jackson Whitney. Number seventeen. How did you kill him?”
“I strangled him with the cord from my phone charger.” I jump right into it. “And then I bashed his head on the side of the tub.” I pause, my eyes sticking with Dr. Love’s. “I sort of wish I hadn’t done that.”
