Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Takeout containers from the local Indian restaurant littered the coffee table, and a movie played on the television. Every now and then Tam would snore softly, then press his face into Driver like he was embarrassed even in his unconscious state.
And every single time, Driver would smile. His heart swelled whenever he looked at Tam’s sleeping face, so peaceful. So beautiful.
So trusting.
That got to him the most. Trust was precious for Tam. What Driver knew of Tam’s life was barely a drop in the ocean. There was so much Tam hadn’t told him. The more time Driver spent with Tam, the more he needed to know.
He brushed a stray hair from Tam’s cheek and kissed his head. If he could, he’d freeze time and stay here forever. Except he knew better than anyone that forever was just a word.
Life consisted of moments. And moments vanished like smoke if you didn’t cherish them.
As much as he dreaded letting go, it was late. The credits were rolling and if they didn’t get the leftovers in the fridge soon, they’d spoil.
“Tam,” he whispered while stroking Tam’s hair. “You want to wake up?”
Tam grunted and rolled into a new position on Driver’s lap.
“The movie’s over.”
No response.
Forget it, he’d take care of the food himself. Driver carefully slid out from under Tam and straightened the blanket around his shoulders. Then he collected the trash, replaced the tops on the plastic containers and took everything into the kitchen. When he was done, he debated going across the hall.
He did. Honestly.
It wasn’t like he needed to sleep with Tam every night. He’d lived on his own since he was eighteen. He was used to being alone. Preferred it, usually.
But Tam was so fucking cute, and Driver couldn’t bear leaving him. Or rather, he couldn’t bear the idea that Tam would wake up lonely. Right, that was it.
Tam might have another nightmare. Last night, Driver had sensed Tam’s distress the second it transpired. Curiosity had gnawed at him ever since, but he didn’t want to pry. Actually, he was afraid of the answer, so he hadn’t asked. But if it happened again, Driver needed to be there.
Lifting Tam was no trouble even though he was solid muscle. Driver cradled him tight and made his way into the bedroom. It was chillier in there because the heater was turned low. He gently placed Tam on the bed, then began undressing him. He moved as quickly as possible and soon Tam was in nothing but those sexy little panties he liked, this time midnight black silk. Driver’s cock sprang to life at the view, but he ignored it as he tucked Tam under the covers.
He thought about sleeping on the couch, for about a second. Considered leaving his clothes on and sleeping above the covers, for less than a minute. Finally, he gave in.
Why fight it? Why lie to himself?
He wanted to be next to Tam, skin to skin. He wanted to sleep near him, hold him, smell him, touch him. Anything less would be torture. So, he pulled off his shirt and pushed off his jeans then crawled in next to his lover. As soon as he came near, Tam turned and tucked himself up against Driver’s front. As if it were expected, as if it were natural.
And Driver’s soul sighed.
Why had he worried?
Wrapping an arm around Tam’s shoulders, he closed his eyes and let the heat of closeness flow through him like a balm.
The question was, who was it healing?
* * *
Mister forced Tam’s jaw wide again. The bruises from last time had barely faded and Tam winced when Mister’s strong fingers gripped him in the exact same place. Tam closed his eyes but tears still leaked from them, tracking down his jaw as Mister’s cock slid to the back of his throat.
He loathed the taste of it, salty sweaty skin.
His knees ached from kneeling on the cold stone for so long—it felt like he’d been on them for years when in reality it’d only been an hour. Mister liked to keep him waiting—dreading. It was a game to him.
It had taken Tam a long time to realize that Mister didn’t get off on the act as much as the psychological torture he inflicted. Sure he came, always huge loads like he saved it all for Tam, even though they only saw each other once a month. But the glint in his eyes whenever he spotted residual marks on Tam’s jaw or on the occasion he caught Tam flinching, that was the real pleasure.
Tam coughed when Mister pushed too deep. He reached up to push at Mister’s thighs, to fight him off before he choked to death, but Mister didn’t budge. Tam thrashed as panic swamped him.
He was going under.
And the last thing he’d see before he died would be Mister’s smirking face and evil eyes.