CHAPTER 15 #2
“No,” she shakes her head and cries. “I looked everywhere for him at first, but then I came back to the table because this is the only place he knows we were at. What if he came back and I wasn’t here? Did I do something wrong?”
“You did everything right. Stay here; don’t move. I’ll go find him.”
I move as fast as I can until I reach the main bar.
“Damián!” Eddie, the bartender, shouts over the music while wiping down the counter. “You want the usual?”
“Not today.” I pull out my phone, bringing up a picture of Oliver, and pass Eddie my phone. “Have you seen him?”
Eddie looks at the screen, then nods, pointing toward the far end of the club. “Yeah, he went stumbling toward the left corridors.”
I turn my head to the left, but it’s impossible to see anything. There are just too many fucking people and too many flashing lights.
I look back at Eddie. “Can I step on the bar?”
He glances at his manager, then gives me a quick nod. “Sure, man.”
But before I get up, the radio beeps. “I’ve got eyes on a suspicious man with a guy who matches the description.”
“Where?”
“Northwest hallway, heading toward the private lounges!”
So I run, not caring who gets in my way.
I push, shove, and dodge until I reach the private lounges. My stomach drops. I see him. The guy in the Dior shirt has Oliver backed against a wall. Ollie’s beautiful hazel eyes are blown wide and glassy.
He is completely out of his mind.
Ollie pushes back, weakly trying to escape, just as the guy leans in to kiss him.
Not in this life.
I close the distance in a second, grab the bastard by the throat, and rip him away before his lips can even go near Oliver’s.
Without letting go of his neck, I catch Oliver and pass him off to Zara, who just caught up to me.
“You got him?” I ask, as she wraps her arms tight around Oliver’s waist.
“I got him.”
I shove the guy against the wall and hit him in the stomach. He groans, doubling over, but before he can even catch his breath, I grab his face and smash the back of his head against the wall. He instantly starts to cry.
“Stop fucking crying and tell me what you gave Oliver?”
Trembling, the guy reaches into his pocket and hands me a little bag of pills shaped like characters from Alice in Wonderland.
“You gave him Molly?!” I squeeze my hand over his jaw tight enough to make him gasp… he then whimpers and nods. “How many?”
He lifts a shaking finger, holding up a ‘one.’
I let go of him, and he falls to the floor crying, just in time for two security guards to arrive. The man on the floor scrambles backward, clutching his jaw and pointing a finger at me.
“Arrest him!” he cries, spitting blood onto the tiles. “He just assaulted me! Call the cops! I am pressing charges!”
But the guard pulls the man to his knees. “Sir, you’ve been permanently banned from the premises.”
“Here, thank you.” I give another guard my earpiece and the radio they lent me.
“We are so sorry, Damián,” says the security guard who took the radio, while the other one is restraining the man.
“It wasn’t your fault, just take this piece of shit out of here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Then I turn and carry Oliver. He nestles in my arms, and man, he looks so scared, his breathing shallow, his pupils completely dilated and unfocused, his forehead dropping against my shoulder.
“How long since he drank it?”
“Thirty to forty minutes.”
I look at Zara. “Are you okay to leave alone? Do you have a safe way home?”
She nods, adjusting her purse. “Yes, my ride is already outside waiting.” She looks at Oliver. “Just… Please take care of him.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got him
— ¤ —
I arrive at my apartment carrying Oliver, only now, his legs are locked tight around my waist, his arms clinging to my shoulders, and he is rapidly entering the drug’s second phase… the absolute euphoria and the extreme enhancement of physical sensations.
Mierda…
He is desperately kissing, sucking, and licking at my neck, clearly losing whatever control he had left. And it feels so amazing, it’s killing me.
“You feel so good,” Oliver moans against my skin. “Fuck you taste so good. Touch me, Dami.”
I walk us toward my bedroom, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache as he moans and grinds his hips against my stomach.
“You are high, nene,” I remind him for the tenth time.
“Please…”
“No. I’ll touch you tomorrow.” I carry him into the bedroom and place him down on my mattress. “Stay here. I’ll get you some water.”
I retreat to the kitchen, or more like I run the hell out of that sex-dream that’s currently on my bed.
I turn on the sink and splash cold water over my face, trying to cool down. I look down and glare at my own painful erection.
“Don’t get any ideas… You’re not coming out today.”
Feeling calmer, I grab the biggest water bottle I own, fill it up, and walk back into my room, only to find the most terrifyingly beautiful sight imaginable.
Oliver is completely naked on my bed.
Dios, why do you torture me this much?
Oliver is half tangled on my sheets, with his eyes closed, and his head thrown back, as he moves his hands, tracing lines all over his body.
My immediate, overwhelming instinct is to back the hell out, lock the door, and run for my life.
But I can’t…
He is too high, too stubborn, and very uncoordinated… If I leave him alone in this state, he’ll end up hurting himself. So I have to stay here and watch him.
Damn it… I curse as I stare at the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, moving in the sexiest way humanly possible… begging for me to touch him.
Mierda, mierda, mierda…
I take off my jacket and throw it on top of him to cover his body. Then I sit down on the edge of the bed and hold out the water bottle.
“No clothes, it’s so warm,” he says, as he tries to wiggle away from my jacket.
“Come on, nene. Have a bit of water.”
Oliver shakes his head, his hazy eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t want water. I want you.”
“Drink the water first,” I bargain, “and then we’ll talk about the rest.”
“God, you’re so handsome. Have I told you you are handsome?” he asks, the drug completely smashing his inner filter. “I want to lick your abs. Can I lick them? And your thighs too. Fuck… I want to slide my tongue from the base of your coc—”
“Oliver!” I cut him off, trying not to groan. “Drink some water… please.”
“Fine…” He takes the bottle and tilts his head back to drink.
A single drop of water escapes his lips, tracing a path down his chin, sliding down his throat, and pooling on his bare chest. It takes a terrifying amount of willpower to stop myself from lunging forward and licking it right off his skin.
Like, I deserve an award for having this level of willpower.
Oliver finishes drinking and hands the bottle back… but the very second I turn to set it on the nightstand, he strikes. Oliver throws his arms around my neck, pressing his naked body against my clothes, and starts kissing the nape of my neck.
?Santa madre de Dios!
I immediately turn back, grabbing his waist to hold him still.
“Nene, stop!”
But the Molly makes him restless, stubborn, and bendy. He slides right through my grip and crawls fully onto my lap, straddling my thighs.
“Damián, please… touch me,” he begs, as he grinds his naked body against my lap, letting out a moan. “Please fuck me.”
?Dios santo redentor!
Think something else, Damián…
One sheep, two sheep… three freaking sheep…
My hands clamp down around his upper arms, stopping his frantic movements completely.
“No, Ollie. You aren’t in your right mind right now.”
“Please,” he whimpers, dropping his forehead against my shoulder. “I want you inside me.”
I swallow hard, my entire body burning with the effort it takes to deny him.
“Tomorrow.”
“NO!” Oliver fights my grip, arching his hips desperately. “I want you. I need you inside me right now.”
“?Jesucristo, Oliver!” I grit my teeth, pinning his hips down to stop him from grinding against me. “Look at me, nene… nothing is going inside of you until you can consent.”
“I consent! I consent to you doing anything you want with me.”
“You are high as a kite, nene. You can’t consent to shit until you are completely sober.”
“I’ve wanted you inside me since the very first day we met… I was sober then.”
I burst out laughing at how damn cute he is. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Please! I need you.”
“That’s the Molly talking. Just breathe. Let it pass, and you’ll be okay.”
But he isn’t okay… The drug suddenly spikes, turning his trip into a bad one. Oliver’s face crumbles, and he bursts into tears, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably into his hands.
“Is it because I’m a…”