When he got a text message right before bed, his pulse thudded, and he practically ran Mister Doodles over in his haste to see who it was.
“Fuck,” he muttered after seeing it was Gerald.
He was asking Tom to come in tomorrow even though he wasn’t due back until Thursday.
Whatever.
Wasn’t like he had any other plans.
He confirmed that he would and went to bed. He still hadn’t heard anything from Cypress, and the mere thought of him summoned a plethora of phantom sensations. Tom could recall the sting of his skin when Cypress spanked him and the brush of his beard when they kissed, the scent of his cologne in his nose when they fucked and the deep shudder of climax.
His hands drifted down to his underwear, slipping inside to grab himself. He kept up the flow of vivid memories, letting them guide his strokes. He found himself back at the party with Cypress’s hot mouth around his cock, and God, he wished they could have finished.
Cypress’s mouth had been so slick and warm, just the perfect amount of pressure and fuck, he had taken every inch, right down to Tom’s balls, and his tongue, he’d started to do this little thing with his tongue—
“Mmm.” Tom grunted as he came, squeezing the head of his cock to milk every drop. He wanted it to last, but it was over in only a few twitches. He got cleaned up and trudged back to bed, hating how empty it had felt.
It wasn’t the same.
In only a few days, Cypress had completely ruined him.
He drifted off to sleep, his heart in his stomach, hoping some marvelous epiphany would come to him in his dreams. No such revelations came, and he found his phone devoid of new texts after shutting off the alarm.
He shouldn’t have been so disappointed.
Tom went to the funeral home and found himself up against four embalmings. He, thankfully, hadn’t seen any news trucks outside, but everyone was still in a foul mood. Their new infamy hadn’t stopped the calls from coming in at least, and Tom got to work. He stayed in the prep room all day, worked late into the evening, and went back home to find a nice pile of poop on the kitchen floor for his trouble.
He cleaned up, made a quick dinner, and went directly to bed. He got up the next morning for another rough shift, and the brutal cycle repeated until there was finally a break on Saturday.
Tom hadn’t gone home at a decent time all week, and he was grateful for the chance to get caught up on cleaning and stocking the prep room. Junior was back, sober for now, and Tom avoided him as much as he could. There had been even more burglaries over the past few days, bringing the total now to twelve. Aaron had mentioned Fox coming around the funeral home again, but he didn’t ask to speak with Tom.
Probably for the best since Tom wouldn’t be able to stop staring at his nipples.
Miss Edie was there doing hair for a deceased woman named Mrs. Mendez while Aaron and Junior had both left to take out funerals. Mr. Crosby was at a graveside service, and Gerald had come back from a funeral to get ready for another one that afternoon. Services tended to bottleneck on the weekends, and Tom was glad he had been allowed to stay hidden in the prep room despite how busy they were.
He was not in the mood for dealing with the living today.
Tom hadn’t had any contact with Cypress. He knew he’d been making his usual deliveries because Aaron told him, but since Tom had been stuck in prep all week, he hadn’t seen him. Not that Tom would know what to say. He hadn’t even been able to text him because he didn’t know what to type, and every time he tried, he ended up deleting the text and giving up. He needed to be honest with Cypress about what had upset him at the party, but it sounded so stupid.
Hearing someone scream? Really?
It was ridiculous.
Not to mention, he was still trying to work out how he really felt about the adventurous sex. Other than the obvious, that it was beyond mind-shattering, he had to decide if he could get over the inherent sense of deviance that came with it. Yes, it was dirty and a bit perverse, but wasn’t that exactly why it was so much fun? Wasn’t the forbidden element part of the thrill?
Did he really need to be blackmailed to enjoy it?
“What’s the matter, baby?” Edie asked, peering over at him with a deep frown. “Your face looks like a cat’s ass.”
“Huh?” Tom jerked away from where he’d been restocking eye caps and mouth formers in a drawer. “No, what? I’m fine. Totally fine.”
“God don’t like a liar, baby.” Edie wagged the curling iron at him. “What’s wrong? You can talk to me.”
Tom could already feel his face getting hot as he stammered, “This is, uh, it’s pretty personal.”
“Is it about your fella?”
“How do you…”
