Page 61 of Savage Seduction

We embrace and I feel his strong warm hand slide downby back, coming to rest on the small of it, just above my ass. I swallow hard and feel my tummy tighten as I imagine what it would feel like to kiss him. Quickly, my thoughts progress to tearing this gorgeous doctor’s clothes from his body, me dropping to my knees and filling my mouth with his thick cock.

He pulls away slowly, looking down into my eyes. Leaning in, his lips touch mine and my heart begins to race. My lips seem to part under their own will as his tongue slips between them and meets mine for the very first time.

As if dissociating entirely, I step back, catching my breath. “Wow,” I say outloud even though I didn’t want to.

He smiles and wipes dry his bottom lip. “Yeah… wow.”

We remain quiet for a few moments, but before we can resume our moment, the one I’ve been wanting to happen since Taco Caliente an older white lady walks past and says, “Get a room.”

We both chuckle and look about the ground avoiding eye contact until she’s out of sight. “Did that seem like we just got caught with our pants down?” I ask.

He nods. “I wouldn’t mind that so much.”

My face flushes and I can feel the back of my neck grow hot. I reach out and grab his hand. “Call me this week and we can set plans for a make-up dinner. If you’d like?”

“Definitely.” His eyes sparkle as he says so.

I get into the car and close the door. As I back out of the parking spot and put the car into drive, I can’t help but look back at Ben. He is a truly caring man, and we’d finally had a nice date, albeit short. But there’s something Ben isn’t telling me. The cop part of my brain where I detect liars and those not being forthcoming is twitchy.

My cellphone pings. At the stoplight, I check the text message. It’s London.

‘You won’t believe what I found! Call me!’

A few minutes later, I pull into a gas station parking lot and call her.

“Dude,” she answers on the first ring. “What took you so long?”

“I was driving.”

“Okay, whatever. You won’t believe what I found.” Her voice is high-pitched and excited.

This must be good. “Tell me. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Weird,” London says. “Do you hear that?”

I listen for a few seconds. There are a few soft clicks, but I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t mentioned it.

“Yes, I hear it.” I say. “We need to get off this line.”

“I think you need to see this for yourself. Meet me at my house in an hour.” London hangs up the phone.

I look out the window for a minute. London never sounds stressed when it comes to computers and hacking. She’s in her element when gallivanting around security systems and firewalls. I check the time on the clock, it’s getting quite late, and I need to work in the morning. There’s enough time to go home, grab some clothes, and make it to London’s place. I put the car into gear and speed toward home.

CHAPTER 24

Ben

The rays of sunlight filter weakly through the city smog as I step out of the Coffee Bean and Me, the surprising chill in the air a sharp contrast to the warmth I've just left behind. Inside, over two cups of coffee that went from steaming to tepid, Max had peeled back a layer of his past, revealing the jagged edges of his scars and the nightmare etched into them by The Butcher. My heart races, not just from the caffeine but from the weight of his trust and the burden of my own silence.

As I walk, my mind replays the conversation, every detail magnified. Max's hands, trembling slightly as they wrapped around his coffee cup; his eyes, dark and deep, holding back a reservoir of pain; the way his voice had caught when he finally spoke of the night that changed his life forever. He had laid bare his darkest moment in a way that spoke of deep trust and vulnerability. Trust in… me. And yet, despite the perfect opening he provided, I couldn't bring myself to confess that I was the surgeon that night, the one who stitched his life back together, thread by delicate thread.

The street noise buzzes in my ears, a cacophony that I can'tseem to tune out. People pass by in a blur, their faces unregistered as I grapple with my cowardice. I had rehearsed the conversation a hundred times in my mind, each version smoother and more reassuring than the last. But faced with the reality of Max's pain, I'd faltered, the words dying in my throat. The fear of altering the delicate balance of our burgeoning relationship had paralyzed me. I am a surgeon for fuck’s sake. I should be used to having difficult conversations.

Now, with each step I take away from the café, the urgency to make things right gnaws at me. This secret, a link between our pasts unbeknownst to him, grows heavier. It's a barrier of my own making, one that stands between us and a future that should be built on complete honesty and deep mutual understanding.

The warm breeze whips around me, and I unzip my jacket, trying to stop the rising flush of heat that’s no doubt reddening my cheeks. I stop at a street corner, waiting for the light to change, and my mind wanders to the possibilities of our next encounter.How will I say it?The words need to be precise, the setting gentle. I can’t blurt it out; the revelation deserves more respect than that. It needs to be a moment where Max feels safe, supported, not cornered or overwhelmed.

As the pedestrian light turns green, I cross the street, determined to make this right. I know what I need to do, and the clarity feels both terrifying and vital. I'll invite him over, to my place where he’s laughed and shown me fragments of his lighter side. I'll cook for him, create an atmosphere of warmth and care, then ease into the confession that has been burning inside me.

---