Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Spencer
Holy fuck.
Did I just…?
Did he just…?
How is it we’re not in a bed excising each other from our systems?
I couldn’t answer any of those questions. Or attempts at questions. In truth, I had no idea what had just fucking happened. As I cycled back to my condo, the reality of what I’d just done sank in.
I’d kissed a guy.
Okay, no big deal. I was gay, he was—at the very least—bi.
We’d been in public.
Nothing against PDAs. They might not have been my thing, but Malik clearly had no issues with…getting involved.
I didn’t have his permission. Didn’t ask for it. Didn’t wait for it. Didn’t stop until way, way, way too fucking late in the process.
Yep. Had to own that one. Even the memory had my gut churning.
I was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. If anyone understood the concept of consent, it would be lawyers and members of law enforcement.
I might not deal in criminal law, but I’d taken the classes.
Had seen up close what victimization looked like.
Malik…
Well, he hadn’t appeared victimized. In fact, he’d been the one to haul us closer together. His tongue had parried with mine. He’d thrust his erection against me. We couldn’t have been closer. Hell, we’d been downright indecent.
And I would’ve stopped in a heartbeat if he’d asked me to. If he’d shown any sign of not being into what we were doing.
You know that doesn’t matter. Try and justify it all you want…it won’t make you any less guilty.
That knowledge sat in the pit of my stomach as I considered going through a drive-through for some dinner or something. I’d eaten some yogurt and strawberries before the meeting because I hadn’t wanted to feel weighted down and I didn’t want to feel hungry either.
Now? Ravenous. Like I could masticate an entire cow all on my own. Added to the queasy feeling and everything felt off-kilter.
I locked up my bike in front of the A&W drive-through on Broadway as I considered my options.
The veggie burger, of course, but then… Onion rings.
I deserved a side of onion rings. I added a root beer, made it a combo, and six minutes later, I was cycling home with my meal shoved into messenger bag.
Home these days was complicated.
When I worked at BioVale, with my very lucrative corporate salary, I’d bought a nice condo in the west end.
I’d enjoyed the nightlife on Davie Street.
I’d driven a nice car. I’d also donated to charities and had supported friends who were involved in politics and social justice.
Hands-off, though. I couldn’t risk my job.
I rolled my eyes as I locked my bike to the wall by my parking space in my Mount Pleasant condo.
I jogged up to the third floor and let myself into my rather tiny unit.
Sighing, I dropped my keys onto my little table in the front hall.
I toed off my shoes and headed to my high-top table.
I eased myself onto a bar stool as Moses leapt up to join me. “Shoo.”
He plopped down on the stool across from me and eyed me.
“Onions are bad for cats.” I sorted my drink, burger, and onion rings. “I’m not sharing.”
The cat blinked. Innocently. Then indolently.
I unwrapped the burger and tore off a sliver of the veggie goodness. “Just one bite.”
He snagged it off my finger.
I eyed the finger, decided I was too tired to get up to wash my hand, and dug into my food with relish. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until this moment.
A couple of times, Moses tried to steal more food.
In resignation, I tore off a tiny strip of lettuce and let him go to town. By the time he’d finished it, I’d polished off the burger, onion rings, and about half my root beer.
I gazed around my one-bedroom condo. I could’ve fit two of these into my old place in the west end. With room to spare. I’d also been on the twenty-first floor with floor-to-ceiling windows facing English Bay.
Here? Third floor—the top—with a nice view of the back alley and the building behind us. I had a casual wave relationship with the neighbor behind me. At least her unit faced south and got some semblance of sun. Mine faced north and was in darkness all day.
That said, when I had the migraines, I was happy to shut my blackout blinds, crawl into bed, and pray for death.
Huh.
I’d been okay today. Given how rough the last few days had been, that was saying something.
Moses eyed me.
I balled up my wrappers, put them in the paper bag, and tossed it into the recycling bin.
Well, attempted to. The shot—which was only a few feet—went long.
Moses leapt from his stool and tore across the condo. Clearly, he’d decided the paper bag was a new version of a ball, and he intended to have fun with it. Either that, or he was going to try to suck the residual grease from the paper. Not possible and, uh, gross.
Entirely something a cat would do.
With yet another weary sigh, I headed over to my desk. I plopped into my chair and tapped my laptop.
It awoke and demanded a password.
I obliged it and soon the background of Moses popped up. I smiled, as I always did. No matter how horrible or crazy my day was, I could always count on some sanity when I got home.
Moses jumped onto my desk and attempted to walk on the keyboard.
“Hey.” I gently shoved him off.
He glared.
“Oh shit.” I rose and headed to the kitchen.
Damn cat was hard on my heels.
“I’m sorry. I meant to come home before the council meeting, but I got caught responding to emails, and then it was time to go to the meeting.
” I offered this excuse to a cat who truly didn’t give a shit—just as long as I fed him.
“You know, you have perfectly good kibble right here.” I nudged the bowl with my toe.
He sat next to the bowl and stared at me, clearly conveying his absolute disinterest in the food. He wanted the wet stuff, and he wanted it right now.
“Yeah, yeah.” I put the plate down with the perfectly portioned wet food.
Without even bothering to thank me, he dug in.
Wearily, I headed back to the computer.
Hesitantly, I checked the website of the developer of the social housing project.
We have received Vancouver Council approval…
Well, fuck me sideways. That definitely hadn’t been there when I’d checked a few hours ago.
I checked the local news website, and an article confirming the go-ahead had just appeared a few minutes ago. I scanned it and…
My heart sank.
First, I located a quote from that busybody who truly would be no worse off. Her home was several blocks from the proposed site, and her enjoyment wasn’t going to be affected. If she was bothered by all the people who couldn’t afford to buy two-million-dollar homes, she could suck my dick.
Gross. Just…gross.
The reporter made it clear not everyone in the neighborhood was against the development and some saw the densification as a good thing. Also a tacit acknowledgement it might make the area marginally less white.
What really caused my stomach to go into freefall was the paragraph about the interruption of council proceedings by none other than Malik Forestal.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
Now, my name didn’t appear, so hopefully the connection to This Land is Ours would remain hidden. I scanned the comments after the article, and nothing had popped up yet.
Yet.
Moses leapt onto the desk.
Absentmindedly, I petted him.
His purrs soothed me.
My phone rang.
At ten-twenty in the evening. Not a good sign.
Bonnie.
“Hey.” Because answering with my standard professional greeting was just so not happening. I put it on speaker phone and dropped it onto the desk.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks…?”
“You don’t sound happy. Come to think of it though, you never sound happy.”
“Hey.”
“What?”
“I might resemble that remark.”
“There’s a moment of self-awareness.”
“Yep.” Then I rubbed my eyes. “I am capable of them.”
“You weren’t mentioned.”
“I never got to speak.”
“Malik was mentioned.”
I sighed.
“Right. Well, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” She cut the call.
Probably didn’t want to hear my gripe. I put the computer into sleep mode, shooed the cat off the desk, and headed to my bedroom.
I stripped, put my clothes in the hamper, then I headed into the bathroom.
I set the shower spray for the perfect temperature and got in.
Shit. I closed the bathroom door, right?
Poking my head out, and finding the door shut, I relaxed.
Moses had a habit of trying to jump into the shower with me.
He didn’t like water, and so usually scratched me a few times before I managed to get him out.
Cat didn’t have a knack for learning lessons he didn’t want to learn.
Hence the reason he was never allowed outside.
I could totally see him trying to jump off the balcony.
He had a cat patio that allowed him to go outside without actually letting him free.
He was, of course, disgruntled. And also still alive—so I took that for a win.
I washed my hair and tried to put images of Malik out of my mind.
Which proved impossible. Tonight, he’d worn dark-blue jeans, a button-down white shirt, and—of all things—cowboy boots. He looked both respectable and a little bad ass with the boots. Do rock stars normally wear boots like that?
Come to that, why did it matter?
Because you want a repeat of that kiss. You want to drag him to bed and let him have his wicked way with you. You’d been so tempted to get to your knees, right there in front of city hall and—
I tried not to continue that thought.
But the kiss… Yeah, that had been… Spectacular? Amazing? Noteworthy?
Exact words failed me. Which, as a lawyer, was a bad thing.
My cock stiffened as I remembered how good it’d felt to brush against him. How much I’d wanted skin on skin. How I’d dominated a kiss I hadn’t even obtained consent to initiate.
I grasped my shaft. Whether to try to stop the erection or to prolong it, I wasn’t entirely certain.
In the end, my body demanded satisfaction. A completion to what had started earlier this evening. Some kind of relief that only jerking off would bring. Bringing the image of Malik to my mind, and a couple of rough tugs, found me coming hard and fast.
I braced one hand against the wall while I milked myself through an intense climax. For once, I didn’t worry about using too much water. Didn’t worry about how much energy I was using and what that cost would be. Instead, I luxuriated. I drifted. I soared.
In the end, I cleaned myself up, ensured all the cum was down the drain, and got out of the shower. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I winced.
Not your greatest moment, Wainright. Did you really accomplish anything?
Perhaps one thing. Maybe now, I could get Malik Forestal out of my system once and for all.
Or so I told myself.