Chapter 2
AREK VAN DOREN
I’ve been to Hush Anonymous a handful of times in the past eighteen months. I like to try all DIK’s businesses. Except Rumor. I was blocked from Rumor since I’m not the demographic. Apparently, there’s a kink for straight men going down on each other, and I just don’t have that one trait.
I wouldn’t say that I’m loudly gay. I don’t wear sparkles or rainbows or whatever. That’s an obvious stereotype, of course. Most people assume I’m straight when they meet me, so I thought I could pull off Rumor well enough.
The guys thought differently, and so I haven’t been there. I have recorded and edited their footage, but I haven’t been on the other end. I said I’d even fail out a couple times, just to keep it looking authentic. They didn’t even have to pay me.
Yep, still blocked.
Whatever. I starred at Confessions a few times.
I’ve starred at Hush a few times. But there’s something almost exciting about Hush Anonymous.
Not seeing who you’re fucking. Taking away one of your senses heightens everything else.
Touch seems to be charged. Taste is brighter, more potent.
I can hear the littlest sounds and smell the arousal between us.
It’s hot. Very little gets me excited, but there’s adrenaline in fucking someone you can’t see.
Who can’t see you. It feels like I can let go a little more.
They can’t see the cold emptiness in my eyes that unsettles everyone who looks at me.
They can’t see the emotionless expressions that rarely break.
They can’t see me. It’s exciting in a way I can’t truly express.
I’m first in the room for the second round to pick my key. As a member of DIK, I can bypass the outside line and wait in the foyer to enter. It means I get the first pick of rooms. Not that it matters. I don’t know who’s in each room.
Toby opens the door and meets my eyes. As with most people, his gaze drops right away, and he looks at the phone in his hand as an excuse. “Van Doren,” he greets.
It’s always funny that people don’t use my first name as often as they do everyone else’s. It’s as if they need to remind themselves and everyone else who I am, who my family is.
“Toby,” I greet, not caring for the practice.
In fact, I’m not sure I know Toby’s surname at all.
I hold up my Hush card. Nothing exciting.
It reads HUSH on one side and my name on the other.
DIK approves them individually once all the paperwork is finished.
Last I knew, they were even looking into doing background checks since we don’t limit access to the student body alone.
You must be part of Longwood U in some fashion, but you don’t have to be part of the student body.
You could be an alumnus, for instance. Or faculty.
Yes, that’s allowed. From what I understand, it doesn’t happen often.
My understanding is that they’re only permitted to be a part of Hush Anonymous and none of our other businesses, since that would expose our staff sexually engaging with students to the public.
Despite it being between adults and consensual, someone not involved at all will throw a tantrum.
I don’t know. I’d fuck a few of my professors. I bet I could get Dr. Foster to scream like a little bitch as I fucked him like a dog and pulled his hair.
The thought makes me smirk as Toby offers me the basket.
I shuffle around, unsure of what I’m looking for.
My hand snags on the green ribbon, and I pull it out.
I haven’t been in that room before, so that seems like a good enough reason to go with it.
Without comment, Toby puts me into the phone and then nods at Dean to lead me down the hall.
“You’ve been here before?” Dean asks.
I incline my head. “A few times.”
He nods. “Then I’ll only give you the highlights.
The door locks automatically behind you, and only the designated key or our master key opens it.
No unwanted interruptions. You have four hours before you are evicted.
No means no. No exceptions.” We stop in front of the door, and Dean flicks the red light to white, briefly illuminating the green ribbon on the door before returning to red. He faces me. “Any questions?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
Dean gestures for me to open the door with the key, so I do and let myself in, bringing the key with me.
I don’t know all the inner workings of Hush, but I know enough that we use the same key as the person who initially goes in.
By bringing the key with me, I’m assuring that no one else comes into the room.
There’s a hook just inside the door that I find and hang the key on, letting the door behind me shut with a quiet click.
Then I close my eyes and wait a minute for my vision to adjust. When I open them, I look around the room at all the faintly glowing lines to orient myself.
The headboard and footboard of the bed glow slightly. Like luminescent algae.
The tables, nightstands, and chair are also outlined, so I have a rough shape of them. The perimeter of the room, top and bottom, is outlined as well. And last, so are the digits on the clock over the door and the hands moving slowly.
Now that I’m familiar with the layout—which isn’t all that different from other rooms I’ve been in—I toe out of my shoes.
My right one falls to the floor with a quiet thump, and I shove it under the table with my foot.
The other follows. Then my shirt, pants, socks, and underwear are strewn haphazardly on the table beside the door.
My partner isn’t moving, but I hear him breathing. I smirk. Usually, that means this is their first time here. They’re nervous. I love that for me.
Moving around the bed, I grab the lube I prefer and a condom. Keeping them in my hand so I don’t lose them on the way to the bed, I climb on and move slowly. As soon as my knee touches the bed, I hear his sharp intake of breath.
Ohhh…. He’s very nervous. How exciting!
I continue my slow advance until my hand reaches his wrist, and he jumps, making a quiet, startled sound that he attempts to swallow. He doesn’t manage entirely, and I think I’m going to be grinning like a lunatic with all of his nervous energy.
For a moment, I don’t move my hand and allow him to get accustomed to my touch.
My hunger to swallow all those nervous sounds is strong, so I don’t keep still long and move my hand along his arm until I reach his side.
Leaving his arm behind, I flatten my hand over his stomach, feeling the way his muscles quiver and dance beneath my touch.
I’d truly love to just grip his dick right now and bring it into my mouth, but I don’t. He feels a little skittish. There’s no missing the tremor in his body that he’s trying desperately to hide.
The way his muscles dance under my touch has me humming in appreciation. So sexy. So beautiful. My hand continues to explore his smooth skin along his stomach, his chest, and pauses briefly as I wrap it around his neck.
He gasps quietly, body jolting. I feel the way his pulse spikes and a rush of adrenaline shoots through me. There’s nothing quite as intoxicating as holding someone’s life in your hands. Knowing you can end them. How very fragile they are. How easily they’ll go.
That’s not what I’m here for.
I slide my hand up the side of his neck and gently cup his face as I angle my body over his. Not quite touching him, but close enough that I feel his body heat. Close enough that I almost feel the tremor leaving his body and vibrating in the air before it dissipates.
His nervous energy is heady. I touch his jaw, throat, and lips with my thumb, painting a picture in my head of his face. He’s trembling.
“Are you okay?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet. Soft. He’s a skittish little fox, ready to bolt at a sudden movement. “You feel… scared.”
“I’m s-sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m nervous. I’ve never done this before—Hush, I mean.”
I nod and then tilt my head to the side.
I know this voice. Licking my lips, I lean down to press them to his.
It startles him, and he inhales sharply.
I wait for him to push me away and run, but as I kiss him, he doesn’t leave.
He doesn’t exactly return the kiss either. But he makes no move to leave.
“Do you have any hard limits?” I ask. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk. Maybe he just wants to fuck. My cock is excited about the prospect.
“Uh… d-don’t suck my dick. Please.”
I’m a little startled by the statement. Of all the things to say, I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not sure I’ve ever met a man who doesn’t crave their dick sucked.
More than that, I determine that I do know his voice.
I’m right to think of him as a skittish fox.
There’s no one more skittish than Kylen Whitaker.
A strange thrill of excitement rushes through my chest. I’ve also never met a man who blushes as hotly or as often as Kylen.
While I love to tease about blushing men being sexy, it truly is a weakness.
“Don’t suck your dick. Did I hear you right?” I clarify after a long beat passes.
He nods. “Y-yes. Uhm… no mouth… on my dick.”
There’s a story here. I’m sure. “No mouth on your dick,” I reiterate.
“No mouth between your legs.” That way, there’s no confusion.
There are oddities in the world that don’t enjoy a blow job, and that’s fine.
I’m not sure I’d consider it a hard limit, though.
In case it’s actually triggering, I decide I won’t go south at all. Remove the temptation entirely.
“Anything else?”
“No,” he whispers, and I’m sure beyond a doubt that this is Kylen beneath me. Knowing that makes me smile. I wouldn’t consider myself particularly attracted to him on any given day. Except for his fucking red cheeks.