Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I get up from the couch and straighten my legs. Walking across the living room, I draw the curtain aside and peer through the window.
There’s a lone form right outside. My heart skips a beat—could that be one of the junkies Luca mentioned today?
Peter never mentioned any trouble with drug users. But then again, he also insisted he was fine and told me not to come home because he was “just a little sick.”
Liar.
I lean forward until my forehead sticks against the glass, letting my shadow cover the faint reflection of my living room.
It’s Luca.
He still likes to run shirtless, I see.
He has his back to me, which means I can gawk at him to my heart’s content.
Luca treats his skin like a canvas, covering it with black, green, and red ink. He once told me every single piece was etched into his flesh either by a close friend, or by a famous tattoo artist at one of the conventions he frequented.
His tattoos seem to dance under the yellow street lights now, rippling as his body strains to maintain his steady, controlled pace.
I remember doing just this when I was a young, impressionable teenager. I’d run to the window at the sound of heavy sneakers pounding the pavement outside. On my luckier days, I’d see Luca outside, his upper body bared for me to see.
Not for the first time, I praise the god who sculpted that body into life. I’m not religious, but damn . . . the strong lines of his body, the ropes of muscles underneath his skin, the curve of his ass . . . Luca could convert a girl into a believer.
I lick my lips, wishing I could lick the salty sweat off his skin instead.
I don’t need to see him from the front to know he still has those glorious six-pack abs on that lean body. And I know his sweatpants hang low enough to expose the V-shaped ridge stretching from his hips down to his bulge, which no doubt is also outlined by the soft fabric.
I imagine myself on my knees, rubbing my face against his package, my cheek brushing over the soft cotton that covers the hot, hard man meat underneath. I’d worship that cock and let him toss me around, do whatever he wants to me, use whichever hole he wants.
Except, Luca’s off-limits.
Yes, my brother’s gone now, and there’s no friendship for me to potentially wreck. But, I don’t need any complications. And I don’t want him to feel like he has to step in and be Peter’s replacement, now that I’m on my own.
If it’s a warm body I need, I can get it elsewhere. I’ve just been so busy making funeral arrangements I haven’t had a chance to try.
I was planning to spend the night researching how security systems work and which companies to call in the morning, but the tingling between my legs demands my attention right now.
The past few days—no, weeks—have been rough. And I need some release.
I can’t get that from Luca. I have very . . . particular tastes now.
No matter how hot it was when Luca screwed eighteen-year-old me, that wouldn’t be enough to scratch this itch.
No, I need something darker. Something more dangerous. I need a bigger thrill to satisfy this craving.
I watch Luca until he disappears into the darkness. I think he might’ve turned his head around to look at me at some point, but that’s probably just my imagination.
Letting the curtain close, I walk back to the couch and make myself comfortable, sprawling back and pulling my legs up onto the cushion.
The browser on my phone displays the Google search results for “veterinary security.” That can wait.
I open a new tab and start to type the URL. As soon as I enter the letter “k,” a bunch of drop-down options appear at the top of the screen. I tap on the top one, and a familiar page loads.
As I write my post, dark desires fill my chest thickly, almost choking me with their intensity. It only makes me hope someone will choke me for real. Just thinking about it makes my core clench. I can feel wetness leaking out of me, pooling in my panties.
I smirk as I click the “submit” button—normal verbiage for websites these days, but it takes on a new meaning here.
A chill runs down my arms.
It’s been so long since I indulged. I’ve actually been clean for a couple of years now, but I guess I don’t have what it takes to deal with my brother’s death and also keep my addiction under control.
Based on past experience, it shouldn’t take long now until I get a response from someone.
I’m not choosy. Anyone will do, as long as he’s willing to act out my fantasy.
Luca
Jesus.
When I installed the monitoring equipment at the clinic, I didn’t expect to stumble upon something like this.