“Handle it, Calder. I’m leaving.”
He smirks. “Alright. Go do whatever mysterious thing you’ve been doing.”
I head for the door without looking back. I need a shower, sleep, and Kelly. He told me I could come over again. It’s early so he’ll be leaving for work soon. Perfect timing.
By the time I get to his place, he’s already gone. Left at the same time like clockwork.
I pull my hoodie up, blood still drying under my sleeves. Brought clean clothes so I can swap out of these. I like the way he smells. Now I get to smell like him.
I take the stairs two at a time, bend at his door, and pull out my tools. Need to make a copy of his key; this is getting old.
The door clicks open. I walk in, lock it, then head straight for Clover.
She’s in her pen, blinking up at me. I pick her up, kiss the top of her head, then dig into my bag and pull out the carrot I bought at the store. Rabbits eat carrots, right? That’s what they do in cartoons. Should probably check what they actually eat so I don’t accidentally kill his rabbit.
That would be bad. He loves this thing.
I place her in her pen and head to his bathroom. Turn on the water and let it warm up.
This is crossing every normal boundary. That thought lasts two seconds before I remember I don’t give a fuck. I need his coconut-lime body wash saturating my skin. Want to smell exactly like him so when I leave, I carry a part of him with me. He’ll be on my skin all day, and he won’t even know.
I strip out of my bloody clothes and step into the shower. Water turns pink when it hits the bottom and swirls down the drain. I grab his soap and scrub everything twice. Hair, neck, hands, arms. Making sure his scent sticks.
I could live here. In his space, breathing his air, fitting myself into the shape he leaves behind when he’s gone. The idea of him walking in and finding me here does something to my chest. Would he be scared? He’d be smart to be.
Would he call the police? Doubtful. He didn’t call them when I pointed a gun at him. Didn’t call them after I drove him home the other night. He just keeps letting me in.
He trusts people he shouldn’t. That’s dangerous.
I feel myself getting hard just from picturing his face if he walked in right now. I press my forehead against the tile, cold against my skin. My hands drag down to my stomach, slow, almost annoyed at how easy this is, and wrap my fingers around my length.
I close my eyes.
Pulling the foreskin back sends this sharp little spark up my spine. Fuck.
Would that finally scare him off? Or would he stand there and stare at me like he does, all wide-eyed like he’s trying to figure me out.
The thought hits lower than it should.
I let out a rough sound. Barely a sound at all. More like air breaking in my throat.
I tighten my fist around my length and stroke again. Harder. My dick twitches.
Those sea-green eyes show up behind my eyelids. The way they lift when he’s confused. Those pink lips he keeps wet when he’s thinking; he has no idea what that does to me.
It hits so fast, my stomach tightens without warning. I jerk myself quicker. My grip gets sloppy, water sliding everywhere, heat building right behind my balls. My breath keeps snagging in my chest. I can’t stop thinking about him walking in, freezing in the doorway, seeing me like this. Seeing me lose it over him.
That pressure snaps hard. A hot pulse shoots out of me and hits the wall in messy streaks before the water drags it down. My knees nearly give out, forcing me to stay against the tile before I step out and dry off with his towel.
I wrap it around my waist. Clover’s still sitting where I left her, watching me. I sigh and pick her up again, carry her to the bed, and slide under the covers with her pulled against my chest, and give her a scratch behind the ear.
Turn my head and bury my face in his pillow to breathe in his scent. Would he notice if I took his pillowcase? The one that smells most like him, that his head rests on every night?
He might. But by then I’d already have what I need.
I shouldn’t have shown up at his apartment last night, but I needed to see him. Needed to be close. Got fucking pissed when we were interrupted and I had to leave.
Part of me wants to stay until he gets home, watch his face when he walks in and finds me in his bed. See the shock in his eyes when he realizes I’ve been here all along, that I’m always here whether he knows it or not. But I won’t. Not yet.
