Chapter 24 #2
Fine, I’ll surrender, but I’m the one on the table, so the way I see it, the victory is mine anyway. My cock has other plans, throbbing in painful surrender.
He needs to act. Now.
“Yosh.. ”
His lips are on my shoulder, soft and open.
“Want for me to stop? That’s always an option.” He keeps kissing me in all the right spots.
“Don’t,” I whimper. “Please, don’t.”
“Tell me what you want me to do, Tom. Use your voice this time.”
I tremble, his fingers following my hipbone torturously slow inside my briefs.
How could I be so stupid to play this game with him.
“Continue…”
“Continue, where?”
“Need… need you to take the pressure off.”
“Pressure, where?”
“You know...”
A grin of triumph sounds before flipping me over.
Squatting next to the table, he drapes one arm over my chest, face resting in the curve of my neck.
“Bad boys like you need taming,” he says, and I hear him wet his lips.
“Lucky for you, that happens to be my specialty.”
He smiles against my collarbone. “Should we… take this to my bed?”
I mirror his husky voice. “Yeah. We should.”
His lips hover close to my ear. “I owe you something for yesterday.”
“I think I’m the one who needs to make things right.”
He throws me a vicious look. “Exactly.”
Fuck.
His hand finds mine, our fingers lacing together like he has no intention of letting go. He pulls me up from the table and leads me to his bedroom.
Fuck the bedroom. Too far.
I turn us around and shove him back against the doorframe, pinning him to the wood with my body, letting him feel my wood.
We go at each other like we’ve been starving. My hands disappear under his shirt, finding his waist. I need to feel his skin touching mine. It feels like a necessity.
His hands are already at my shorts, unbuttoning them with greedy fingers.
I grab the back of his neck, pull him down to me, ready to dive in and devour his mouth—
And then, when I’m only an inch from his lips, his pager goes off.
The sound blows me back, my whole body seizing.
“Fuck,” he growls, reaching for the thing.
He pulls it out of his pocket, looks at it, and freezes. He doesn’t move or blink. He just keeps staring at the thing, a subtle tremble in his fingers.
I grab his shoulder.
“Yosh, you alright?”
“Yeah… I’m sorry.” His voice comes out rough. “I’ve— I’ve got to go.”
He sprints back into the treatment room, scrubs his hands before snatching his wallet and keys off the desk.
Ten seconds later, he's gone.
I stand there for God knows how long, staring ahead like I’m running on two and a half brain cells.
Then I glance down at my cock, painfully hard, pointing straight at the ceiling.
I close my eyes, trying to breathe through it.
Are you kidding me? Two times. Two times I blinked and he was out. He just fucking left.
Should I wait for him? What the hell am I supposed to do now?
We didn’t even kiss.
Welcome to the tragic circus that is Tom McKenna.
Right. Don’t be dramatic. Stay calm.
I open my eyes wide.
Screw that. I’m not waiting around for him. If he won’t finish what he started, I will.
In his bed. With my swampy arse on his perfectly folded, organic sheets. And I’m not holding back on any of the filth he planted in my head.
Dinner’s been a solo act for the past week, but tonight, my girl Stella is joining me.
I know her from the scene back home. Most nights she’s in the VIP at Joan’s club, snorting white gold off a key in plain sight. Discretion always magically disappears after that first blow.
She got here on Saturday and casually reminded me we once spent the night together. Six, maybe seven months ago.
I nodded like I remembered. I don’t.
Still, a familiar face is a familiar face, and right now I’ll take the distraction.
The day took a terrible turn.
There was a massive chain-reaction crash on the ring this morning. A bus flipped over and several vehicles caught fire. We don’t know much about what happened, everyone is constantly checking the news.
Apparently, someone from HR was on that bus. Samira’s mom too.
It’s why Yosh had to leave. They pulled all medical staff to the hospital the moment the call came in. The long table for fancy doctors has too many empty seats.
I texted Yosh earlier to check in on him, but he hasn’t replied. Not that I really expected him to, given the circumstances. I’m not a religious man, but tonight I said my prayers anyway.
Stella, on the other hand, is as bubbly as ever.
“Look, sweetie.” She nudges my shoulder, pointing to the fancy table. “That’s Terrence. He teaches me all sorts of stuff.”
Of course I remember the arsehole who threw me into isolation last week. I’m pretty sure he would’ve strapped me into a straitjacket if my hands hadn’t been so busted.
Maybe I deserved it after that little outburst.
Yosh didn’t see it that way. He was ready to go to war with the guy. In retrospect, I kind of like the thought that he was fighting for me. It was hot.
I dip a piece of salmon nigiri into soy sauce, choosing to ignore Stella’s comment.
“Who are you linked to?” she asks.
I chew slowly, waiting until I’ve swallowed before replying. “Doctor Aoki. He does things with crystals and needles. He handles the infirmary too.”
“Oh, you two getting on?”
I choke instantly, coughing and reaching for my glass of water.
“Sorry,” I manage between coughs, taking another sip.
Stella gives me a crooked little smile, resting her hand on mine.
“You know, Terrence told me today that I—”
“Stella, sleeping with your therapist isn’t the point of this place. You’re here for you, remember?”
Who the fuck am I kidding. I just liked saying that out loud.
“Yeah, who knows…”
She stares into the void for a second, then back at me.
“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t like being alone in a new place.”
Thanks, but no. I’ve already shot my load into some tissues. Yes, again. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s more than enough for now.
That ache’s been dealt with, what’s left is something she can’t have.
Still a great line, though. I have to give her credit. Maybe I’ll pull that card when Yosh gets back.
From the corner of my eye, I see Terrence heading our way. Stella notices him too, her excitement about to spill over.
“Tom, this is Terrence,” she announces brightly as he stops in front of our table.
Terrence gives her zero attention, treating her like background noise. His eyes go directly to me.
“Tom and I already met.”
I stay quiet. There’s absolutely nothing I need to say to this idiot. The fact that he’s here in Arcadia and not helping at the hospital tells me he’s a fake, uncapable of doing absolutely anything. They even sent the trainees to Saint Luna Medical Center.
Terrence offers me an appraising look. “How are your hands?”
“They’re fine.”
Stella’s eyes dart between us; it’s quite obvious that he and I have a history she isn’t aware of. I’d like to keep it that way. That girl is a walking tabloid.
“So,” he continues. “Are you okay? Is Yosh taking good care of you?”
An involuntary shiver races down my spine at the mention of his name. I flash back to this morning. Warm, oil-slicked hands, those soft lips on my neck. Brain, please. Not now.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mumble.
Terrence waits as if he’s expecting more. I give him nothing. I don’t even want to give him the satisfaction of my attention. He’s clearly up to something, and it’s carefully cutting into my thin line of patience.
“Yosh is lucky to have you,” he finally says, tone calculated and sinister.
“We all would’ve loved to guide you. But games get played at Arcadia, and not always fair ones. Some therapists know exactly who to befriend to get ahead.
Erin was meant to guide you, she’s a senior. Your family made sure of it. But Yosh took over. A troubled, well-known name like yours? That’s leverage, promotion material. He knew that. He planned it from the start.”
The grin he’s giving me tells me he’s more than pleased with himself.
I keep my mouth shut.
Meanwhile, adrenaline is everywhere, tempting me to lose my shit. I can’t even tell which thoughts are mine and which ones he’s shoved in there.
Let’s be real, I don’t trust the fucker. But what if there’s some truth to what he’s saying? Yosh did mention the position, only to accuse Terrence of sabotage. What if it’s the other way around, and I’m a stepping stone in Yosh’s career path?
No, that can’t be. I trust him. I know him.
Do I?
I think I do. I want to. God, I want to.
But is it real?
Why the bloody hell am I questioning that? He couldn’t do that to me, right?
He. Could. Not.
My jaw clenches so hard I feel my teeth grind. I don’t say a damn thing. That’s exactly what Terrence wants, he wants to see me crumble.
Fuck that.
He lays his eyes on me, probably checking how deep the knife’s gone.
“My door is always open, Tom.”
That’s it. So much for keeping my cool.
He turns to leave, I grab his arm. Hard. One twist and I could snap it.
He looks down at my tight grip around his wrist. His throat bobs. He knows.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do, arsehole. But it won’t work on me,” I tell him softly.
He tries to pull back. I yank him closer instead, close enough to see the flash of fear behind that smug, cockroach face.
“Now you walk away, and you forget this conversation ever happened.”
I rise from my chair and twist his arm, forcing him to bend. I’m too far gone to care about the gasp from Stella or the shocked faces around us.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know who I am. Or where I come from.”
Then I shove him back. He staggers a few steps, catching himself before he loses his balance.
I don’t say a word. I wait until he walks out of sight.
Only then do I allow myself to sit back at the table. Rage vibrates under my skin; I’m still boiling inside.
I grab my glass, and take a long, bitter sip of water.
Terrence is gone, but his words stick.
My head’s full of noise, anger, and doubts I’d rather not entertain. But I do. And I hate that I do.
Yosh wouldn’t use me. He couldn’t.
Except…he did bring up that position. He did take me from Erin, and he’s never really said why.
Maybe I’m just a challenge to him. A name that gets him ahead.
God, how stupid would that make me? Falling for someone who’s playing me like a fucking strategy.
Karma.
He should’ve told me.
He should’ve said something.
If there was nothing to hide, then why the silence? Why does he shut down every time it gets personal?
I clench my fists under the table.
The anger makes it easier to believe I’ve been played. Easier than admitting I might’ve let someone in who never really saw me at all.
And maybe that’s the worst part.
Not that he lied, but that I’ve given him all of me.