Page 81 of Texting Dr. Stalker

His fingers drifted like warm water droplets over my head, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.

My eyes closed.

In a few seconds, I was asleep.

* 22 *

Zander

Nothing Like a Cat Gift

I WOKE TO MY ALARM BLARING ITS horrible foghorn alert, injecting me with an unhealthy amount of adrenaline.

Everything ached. My brain ached. My body ached. My cock throbbed with morning wood. I couldn’t get my bearings. The light was all wrong. The scent far more floral than my usual clean laundry fragrance.

What the hell did I do last night?

“Oh my God!” a woman groaned. “What is that awful noise?”

I froze as last night exploded through me.

The kitten.

Sailor.

Her going to sleep on me.

I bolted upright, fighting to untangle my legs from hers and unthread my arm from beneath her shoulders. My fingers tingled with pins and needles, hinting I’d been sleeping wrapped around her for a while.

I’d been sleeping with Sailor.

Oh fuck!

Launching out of bed, my hands flew to my face.

My mask!

It’d fallen a little, clinging to the tip of my nose. Wrenching it up high enough to blind myself, I snatched my phone from where I’d placed it on the floor and killed the nasty alarm.

Six a.m.

I had surgery today. And I officially felt as if I’d been run over. Twelve times. By a train.

What with the kitten keeping me up, and then Sailor messaging me just as I’d gotten into bed, I was running on absolute dregs. Not to mention the fact that I’d put the blue-black rinse through my hair like Colin told me to, pinched a ridiculous fake piercing on my eyebrow, then fought my overwhelming dislike of wearing contacts to cover my bright green with muddy brown.

My parents tried to encourage me to use contacts after I got bullied at school for wearing glasses, but I’d never been able to put them in without causing myself serious harm. I didn’t like the scratchy feeling. And I didn’t like putting anything in my eyes—helpful or not.

Sailor sat up in bed. The covers slipped to her waist, revealing the same Sailor Moon t-shirt she’d worn when mixing her creams the other day. I’d found it sexy then, but now? Now, I found it horribly arousing. Especially with her hair tousled and eyes hooded.

Talking of eyes.

What if one of the coloured contacts had fallen out while I slept? What if she saw me in the light and saw past all the facial disguises that seemed utterly pointless but Colin seemed to think would trick all humans because we inherently sucked atlookingat people.

“I-I have to go.” Grateful that a lack of sleep coated my voice box with some serious gruff, I yanked on my boots and stumbled toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

No, you won’t.

This was the last time.

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