Page 21 of The Silencer

I’m panting like a dog in heat.

His hands move down to the back of my thighs and my vision almost whites out.

“Oh god, stop. Anthony. Stop or I’m gonna come. I swear I will.”

His hands suddenly move away from my skin, and I feel like I can breathe. Sort of. Mostly.

I’m wheezing.

“I made a mess all over your desk. I’m sorry, but I warned you and you didn’t listen.”

A tissue is handed to me, and with a shaky hand, I wipe up my precum. It smears and leaves a streak, but I can’t be bothered to do better. He’ll just have to live with his choices.

“Are we done?” I ask, turning to look over my shoulder, trying not to look at him too hard. But it’s not easy to not ogle. He’s sitting in his chair, his legs sprawled in front of him, one of his hands grasping onto the arm, the other touching his jaw.

“Yes. We’re done. Tomorrow, be here at eight.”

“In the morning?” I ask, turning around fully and grabbing the base of my hard dick. It positively throbs. It wants to explode all over his nicely pressed pants.

“Yes. I have work to do after that, and I want to make sure this gets applied.”

I nod and then reach for my underwear, pulling them on with a gasp. The ointment has definitely helped, but it’s not a miracle potion. I’m still ridiculously sore.

“What kind of work? Cutting people’s hearts out? Rubbing your hands all over unsuspecting gay guys?”

Anthony’s lips twitch once more and then his hand drops from his jaw.

“My business is none of yours.”

I sigh as I try to pull on my pants, nearly toppling over in the process. Anthony moves quickly, righting me and helping me step into my sweats. The way his knuckles drag up my skin as he pulls them around my hips makes me groan and gasp.

“Good fuck,” I say, my eyelids fluttering.

“Yes,” he says as he slowly ties the drawstring, his knuckles sliding over my cock in the process. He’s done this on purpose. I can’t prove it, but I stand by this.

He’s teasing me in his own way.

He may be straight, but he’s tempting me. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Tomorrow morning,” he says as he pulls my shirt over my head and I push my arms through the holes.

“Fine,” I say and then adjust myself before moving toward the door and tugging it open. “Tomorrow.”

“Teddy,” I say as I make my way back to my room. I’m shaking slightly, trying to will my dick to go down. If big-man Teddy notices it, he says nothing. Of course he says nothing. He says not one word about anything. Not that I’m deterred.

“Teddy, let me tell you what just happened to me in that office,” I say as I rest my body against the staircase railing. “Anthony put some kind of cream all over my naked body.”

Teddy’s chest heaves, and he eyes me for just a second before he turns his gaze forward.

“I mean, does he normally put ointment on dudes?”

When he doesn’t answer, I just continue my way up the stairs. “I mean, of course you won’t answer that, but his hand was on my butt. He grabbed it. Massaged it.”

I pause again and take a deep breath. Good god, I feel so weak. Either that or all my blood is pooling in my dick and not in my muscles where I desperately need it.

“How am I supposed to do this twice a day until my bruises heal, hm? Tell me this?”

He does not tell me this. He stays quiet. Just looms next to me like a gargoyle.

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