I turn into a zombie, and they heighten my anxiety. I become overly conscious of every joint in my body; I can feel every muscle move and each breath I take in a heightened sense.
I’d rather have this darkness, this lingering agony living inside of me than have my own body turn against me. It’s not like I’m suicidal, so how bad can I truly be?
Plus, I have moments of reprieve. Like the other night, as I was coming undone while impaled on Nate’s dick.
Oh, wait. Is that the solution? If I keep having regular sex, maybe the darkness will recede more often!
While moving in time with Nate’s body, I was so light, so free, that the darkness couldn’t eventouchme.
That’s the answer then. I have cracked the code. I mean, of course I have. I’m brilliant.
Ushering Uncle Benji off the phone, I throw on something nice and get into my car, heading to City Central, the closest club. The one Nate found me at—the one where I hid in a back hallway and punched him in the face.
Good times.
Nate—wait…
Am I… am Iobeyinghim right now? Calling him Nate instead of Nathaniel, even in my own mind?
“You call me Nate or nothing at all,”he had said.
That fucking prick. How dare he boss me around? How dare he do itso wellthat I listen even as he’s not around to hear it?!
Nathaniel is in for a rude awakening the next time I see him. I’ll call him Nathaniel, and he’ll fuck me anyway. Asshole.
After paying the entry fee, I walk into City Central with my head held high. The fog is licking my loafers, music filling the air as the bartenders call out to each other, and several couples lean against opposing walls as they lock lips and grind against one another.
It’s perfect. Now I just need to find someone to take home.
Eyeing the dancing crowd, I search for a specific kind of man. One who is similar to me in build and height, who looks like they’ll fight me for dominance before bending to my will so beautifully.
And this is California, so it doesn’t take long.
I see him within minutes. A bit into the fray, dancing with some girl—probably a friend of his, if the way they’re dancing is any indication.
They’re laughing and twirling each other around, but notdancing. Not how I’ll be grinding against him soon.
And my eyes must hold a weight—a desire so thick and heady the man can feel it—because he looks up, peering around the room before his gaze collides with mine.
His eyes are brown and big, though hooded as he takes me in. Hard muscle lines his biceps and his thighs, which are trapped in a tight pair of black slacks. His chest is stretching the button-up he’s wearing, damn near popping the buttons as he rests his hands on his hips and gives me a slow, easy smile.
Which, of course, is code forcome and get me.
Don’t mind if I do!
I head across the room, approaching him within seconds.
“Well, hello there, sweetheart,” he purrs, his blond hair matting his forehead as he cocks his head at me. “Can I help you with something, or do you want to stare all night?”
I can feel the smirk stretching my lips, my body vibrating with tension. “You candefinitelyhelp me with something. What’s your name?”
“Phillip,” he replies. “But ‘baby’ is fine.”
“Landon.” I introduce myself, extending my hand. As soon as his warm palm is pressed to mine, I yank him to my chest, whispering in his ear, “But ‘sir’ will do for the remainder of the evening.”
Phillip laughs, the sound resonating through my body and making me tingle all the way down to my toes. It’s a promise of what’s to come.
“Oh, a cocky top, then,” he jokes. “No chance I can get you to change your tune, just for a bit?”
