Page 58 of The Silencer
“What can I say? He’s a control freak,” I explain, and Angel lets out a small laugh. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s skipping down the hall happily. Well, thank fuck for that. I didn’t want to have to explain what’s going on between Anthony and me. Not that I could explain. I literally have no idea what’s happening. Just that he has given me some hand jobs and seems far too possessive over me for a straight guy.
I move into the bedroom, Teddy hot on my heels.
“Gonna go shower,” I tell him as I walk into the bathroom and strip out of my clothes. I wash quickly, pausing only to smell the body wash that Anthony uses. God, it gets my dick hard. Not that I touch it, I don’t want Teddy to hear me jerking one off just on the other side of the wall.
So I am methodical about it—wash and rinse. When I step out, I shuffle through his drawers and grab some of his deodorant, spraying it on before grabbing his toothbrush and scrubbing at my teeth. I probably should have asked permission, but I don’t care. I just take what I want. He’ll never know.
I stride out into the bedroom, wearing only a towel and enter Anthony’s large walk-in closet. Everything is orderly and color-coordinated, even his socks and underwear are folded. It makes me want to mess it up, just a little. Maybe stick a shirt in the wrong place to see his eye twitch. But instead of pushing any more of his buttons tonight, since I’ve already pressed my luck, I just grab a shirt and pull it on, buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves.
There. All done.
Now I just need to wait for Anthony.
I crawl into his bed and feel Teddy’s eyes on me. Probably on my bare ass which is assuredly sticking out right now. Good thing I waxed before I went to that shady bar. At least it’s nice and smooth.
As soon as I think that, the door opens and Anthony walks in. I freeze and turn my gaze over my shoulder.
Anthony’s eyes land on me and one of them twitches. Seems I got that response without messing up his closet.
Win. Win.
“You’re dismissed,” he tells Teddy, his eyes never leaving me.
“Hello there,” I say with a wide smile, turning around and sitting on top of his covers. He doesn’t return the greeting, just starts toward me, his fingers working his shirt open as he goes.
Oh my god. Why is he taking off his clothes? I can’t peel my eyes away from him, from each inch of his chest that he exposes to me. My mouth is suddenly too dry, parched. My tongue peeks out, and I wet my lips.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, and I nod.
“Mhm,” I reply as he stops at the end of the bed and shucks his shirt off, tossing it onto a nearby chair.
I stare at his puckered nipples, at the tattoos across his chest. I want to lick him. I want to push him down, straddle his waist and slide my tongue across his body. Good hell, he’s a sexpot. How am I going to make it out of here alive?
I’m not. I’m going to die from sexual frustration.
His fingers wrap around my ankle and he pulls me to the edge of the bed. My shirt slides up my thighs and bunches at my groin, my hard cock evident through the fabric. There’s no hiding it, not that I want to. He knows that just looking at him makes me hard enough to hammer nails.
His fingers move to the buttons on the shirt, and he slips each one free until he’s pushing the fabric off my shoulders. His fingers skim my skin, and when I’m completely naked, he leans down toward me, inhaling.
“Better,” he says, and I bite back a moan.
Good fuck, he should not be saying this to me. He really shouldn’t breathe in my direction. I may come untouched.
He picks up the jar from the end table and unscrews it, and then his fingers are on me, massaging the ointment into my skin and making me pant. I have no control.
Zero.
Really, like negative one-thousand. I’m so far past control, I’m just pure chaos.
When he reaches around me and flips me over, I rut discreetly into the mattress as his hands glide all over me, but I don’t think I manage to do this unnoticed.
“Stop wiggling,” he bites out, and I huff in annoyance.
“I can’t.”
“You can,” he replies as he grips my hips and stills me.
I try my best to stop moving, I really do, but when his hands drag down the back of my thighs, I end up humping the bed frantically.