Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I can feel I’m getting too close, so I force myself to slow down.
I need to let him come first. Need to train my body to service his needs.
His body jerks and twists before he blasts across himself—this toy’s good, so I’m gonna have to be better, a challenge I accept willingly.
“Can I come?” I whisper.
“Please do it,” he begs. Fucking begs.
And it hits my ear just right. I growl and call out as warm cum covers the side of my hand.
“Fuck yes. Fuck yes, Leif…”
I gasp as I catch my breath, coming down from the intensity of my climax.
I think about the fucking mess we’ve made, and how I want to make this mess with him in real life. And as grateful as I am that he gave this to me, I’m also pissed as hell because it’s a cruel reminder that I can’t have his ass tonight. And that every hour that passes until that moment is an hour I’ll resent.
That pretty smile rushes across his face as his gaze is on the camera. “That was nice,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
A quake rushes through my body, and I wipe my boxers across the mess to clean up until I have a chance to get in the shower.
Leif sits up and gazes into the camera. “Night, Zane.”
“Good night, Leif.”
He ends the FaceTime, and I figure he’s heading for the shower, so I toss my boxers into my laundry hamper, take a shower, and as I get out, I glance around my room, noticing what a fucking mess it is.
I head back to my desk and pull up the screen I’d been on before Leif distracted me with that delicious video call.
I’m even more fixated on it after the call. Like some primal part of me sees Leif as my mate whom I must protect.
My screen shows a live view of the Chelsby Hill Public Library.
Since Leif mentioned going there, it’s become a bit of an obsession.
“You at the library again?” I ask Mike.
“You bet. Been reading some Proust and Faulkner.”
“You have not!”
“Okay, maybe just some King and Robb, but hey, it’s better than nothing.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s more like it.”
Mike spent a lot of time there, and now I know Leif did too, both when they were going through a rough patch. What if this was where whoever’s behind Mike’s disappearance picked out his victims? Saw these vulnerable men, and something about that turned them on?
What if Jason Kilbourne frequented this same library?
Not that this abductor’s pattern needs to be anything so obvious. And there’s the possibility that this is all some random connection I’ve made, like I did with Isaac Tolle.
It’s probably nothing. Don’t know how many times I’ve had to keep telling myself that, but I know by how it’s rattling around my brain that I won’t be able to let it go.
Now that Leif’s parents are home, this is the perfect time.
I return my attention to the surveillance footage.
I don’t want him out of my reach, but if there’s a chance I can get a lead that can help take me to Mike—and maybe preemptively save Leif—wouldn’t that be worth it?
*
As I enter the Chelsby Hill Public Library, I’m already feeling like this is such a stupid idea. But I’m so fixated on it, I knew I’d regret if I didn’t. I didn’t tell Leif what I was up to, just asked that he stay home with his parents while I ran an errand for a few hours.
I’ve been in plenty of bookstores, but I’ve maybe been inside a library twice in my life.
It’s about the size I would’ve expected for the area—not massive. There are two rows of maybe a dozen computers, with only three kids who look like they’re either students at the community college or the high school down the street. Mike used to say he preferred coming here over the library on campus because it wasn’t as crowded.
Mike never liked being around too many people.
Beyond the computers are several aisles of books, and a sign indicates there’s another story above us, where their fiction section can be found. As I take a lap around the place, I notice various seating areas throughout. It’d be easy for some stalker to sit at any of these and get a view of whomever they might be watching around here.
This dumb idea’s rolling around in my head that I’ll see some mysterious figure. Maybe a guy in a hoodie, tucked away, acting shady enough that I’ll just know he must be the guy.
I know that’s not how shit works in real life.
And as I’m looking around, I’m struggling to figure out why I’m really here. Is this like with Tolle? No, I feel lucid and clearheaded. And I have a reasonable amount of suspicion in my theories, which wasn’t the case when I was chasing that lead.