Page 25 of Lonely
Every second he didn’t speak, I lost a little more of whatever sanity I had left. The truth wasn’t hiding in his words. It was lodged somewhere deeper, somewhere that would bleed if touched. I wanted to split him down the middle, pry him open like a ribcage, and dig the truth out with my bare hands.
Someone wailed outside the room, but Carter’s silence screamed louder.
I dug my fingers into his throat until he started to struggle against the leather restraints.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, and it stops.”
Of course he’d rather choke on silence than give me what I want. At this rate, he’d die before letting me have the upper hand. And I’d fuck him through every second of that defiance, if that’s what it took to make him speak.
Stubborn little martyr.
It made me so fucking hard I could barely see straight.
His face flushed red, his lips tinged blue, but he kept his mouth shut, as if his thoughts were more sacred than his next breath. I hated him.
But I loved him.
God, I loved him so much.
Nuzzling his face, I breathed in his masculine scent and murmured his name against his temple.
“Carter, Carter, Carter.”
When our eyes locked, I pressed my forehead to his. “I’ll think of you tonight as I sever her head.”
“Wait for me after work.”
Rain lashed against the glass, and a crack of lightning streaked across the sky. The lights were on in my office even though it was barely late. I checked my watch. Five p.m. exactly.
I took off my glasses and rubbed my tired eyes before sliding them back on. It had been a long day. An exhausting one. But Carter was never far from my mind.
I pictured him stretched out on his bed, reading that tattered hardcover while thunder rattled the windowpanes. Was he thinking of me?
Did he like it when I touched him?
I remembered the sensation of his silky cock as I looked at my hand. It’d been big and hard and perfect. More perfect than any dick I’d seen.
And I’d held him in my palm while he trembled.
Watched him fall apart for me.
No one else.
Me.
A headache bloomed behind my temples, so I rubbed small circles to ease the pressure.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Anna slipped inside with a sly grin like we were sharing a secret. Maybe we were. Her genitals were well acquainted with my tongue, and that was more than the other nurses could say.
What did she see in me? A young woman like her, who smelled of warm vanilla and sunny meadows. Why would she want a middle-aged, balding man like me?
She spun at the door and jutted her round ass out to reveal her bare bottom as she lifted her skirt to her waist.
“I did the afternoon rounds without panties,” she said. “I felt naughty.”
Women were strange creatures.
I stared at her pale bottom a moment longer, unsure what she wanted me to do. Gawk at her? I was already doing that, but not for the reasons she thought.
