Page 12 of For I Have Sinned
I must have dozed. When I open my eyes, the office is dark. Sitting up, I scrub my hand over my face. I feel raw. Everything inside of me feels raw.
Forcing myself to grab another water, I drink. Then I head home and shower, washing away all the day’s gross feelings and wishing it would disappear down the drain. Wishing I could step out of the shower and Ellsworth would be there waiting for me.
But when I get out, I’m alone. My house is so silent it grates on me. I dress numbly, tears stinging my eyes. When I stand in my room, I fall apart. Every determined stubbornness I put in place when giving Ellsworth all the cards fell away.
“I can’t do this,” I said and stuffed my feet into my socks and shoes. Not caring at all if I look like a fucking homeless man, all fucking rumpled and facial hair so long it looks like I don’t have access to a razor, I practically run down the sidewalk in the dark.
Run around the corner and sprint to the fucking church. I tear open the door and pause, looking around. It’s quiet. Just the sounds of a slumbering church.
Only once, Ellsworth mentioned that he lived at the cathedral. That meant his room was here somewhere and fuck if I wasn’t going to find it. With a 50/50 chance, I choose a door and try it. Expecting to find it locked, I’m elated when it opens and relieved when it does so silently.
The hallway is dark. I give my eyes a minute to adjust and creep along, peeking my head in every door that’s unlocked. My heart is racing when I don’t find him on the first floor.
Finding the stairs, I climb as silently as I can, freezing every time they creak or groan under me. My heart is in my throat as I stare, knowing that if someone comes out at any sound, I have nowhere to hide. There is no good reason for me to be back here. None at all. My mind is too much of a scrambled mess to even come up with a good lie.
Not that a lie would convince anyone. Everyone would know I was here to find Ellsworth.
By some fucking miracle, I make it upstairs and stare at the doors that line the hall. The first few are open, and I peek in, already knowing that he’s not going to be in the room with one of the open doors. By the time I get to the one I'm convinced is his, I’m a sweaty mess. Terrified. Ready to burst into tears like I’m three years old and skinned my knee after falling off my bike.
I stare at the door, knowing that he’s there. Praying that he’s there. Finally, I gather the courage to knock.
I’m shaking now. Can barely breathe. I’m a fucking wreck as the light flicks on and reaches my feet from under the door.
Tears sting my eyes when I hear the knob turn. And then it opens, and I look at the man I’ve fallen in love with. That I have no business loving. A tear falls down my cheek as I look at him, just as much a mess as I am.
I don’t find any comfort in that. Not this time.
Six
ZAIDEN
“Zaiden,” he whispers, his voice strained. His eyes travel all over me and his face falls, reflecting the pain I feel. “What are you doing here?”
I don’t have any words. Instead, I blink, unleashing more tears.
Ellsworth makes a sound and reaches for me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me into his room. I don’t have time to look around as I wrap myself in him. His door shuts quietly and then I’m pressed against it as he holds me tight.
Although I know I’m trembling, I think he is too. Where it had once made me feel better knowing that he hurt as much as I did, right now I just want it to go away. I want something I can’t have. And I’m here to beg for it.
First I need to catch my breath.
He lets me pull away, but before I can speak, his mouth is on mine. Kissing me with such desperate abandon, I know he hasn’t been hiding from me easily. I can taste his pain. Feel how much he wants me. How his need burns as hotly as mine does. I can feel the holes in his heart as if they’re my own.
They are mine. We share those holes.
I pull my lips from his and say, “I need you, Ellsworth. I’m sorry, I know I said?—”
He doesn’t let me continue as he kisses me again. I need to tell him, though. I need?—
When his hands find my stomach under my shirt, the thoughts leave completely. This is what I need. His hands on me. His skin on mine. I frantically pull at his shirt, needing more. We stumble about in the small space as we strip each other. It’s a needy, feverish mess of wild touching, tasting, memorizing every inch of skin revealed.
Naked, Ellsworth has me on his bed as he climbs on top of me, kissing me deeply. I’m ready for him. Ready for him to touch me. To make me his in every way. I fucking need everything about this man to complete me. To heal me.
His mouth travels down my body, licking and biting as I writhe underneath him. “Ellsworth,” I quietly beg, knowing that I need to keep my voice down. No one can know I’m here.
“I know,” he says, licking up the length of my shaft and making me gasp as I clutch his hair. When my fingers tangle in it, I realize it’s not as short as it usually is. My mind swirls with that thought mixed with the feel of his tongue on my dick. The feel of his scruffy face on my balls.
And then I’m in his mouth and I buck up without meaning to. I try to apologize, but he sucks in the most expert way. I’m so fucking desperate for him that my balls are already drawing up tight.
