Page 6 of Edge of Control

Today was stressful enough. I decided I needed to blow off some steam. And I knew exactly how I could accomplish that.

I pulled my cap down over my eyes as I stood in line behind two men, one breathing down the other’s neck, hands lost inside his shorts. I could practically smell the poppers andlube drifting out of the bathhouse whenever the heavy steel door opened.

A bouncer gave me a once-over before nodding me inside. I stepped into a dim corridor bathed in red light, the thrum of bass vibrating through the walls. A row of chains hung from the ceiling.

At the check-in desk, a bored attendant slid a key and a numbered wristband across the counter. “Lockers are to the left,” he muttered without looking up.

I made my way to the locker room, the air thick with steam and anticipation. I found my assigned locker and began to strip down. Shirt off first, the cool air hitting my skin. Shoes and socks tucked away. I unbuckled my belt, letting my jeans slide down my legs before folding them neatly on the shelf. Standing there in just my briefs, I hesitated for a moment, a flicker of self-awareness. Then, I shrugged it off—I wasn’t here to overthink.

I got completely naked. A man watched me curiously as he began to undress. He was attractive. Maybe we could play together later.

First, I wanted to do a lap.

I wrapped a towel snugly around my waist, the fabric rough against my skin. My belongings secured, I closed the locker with a metallic click and put the key around my wrist. The weight of the day began to lift, replaced by a different kind of tension.

Stepping into the main area, I was enveloped by a labyrinth of shadows and muted whispers. The bathhouse was a maze of corridors and hidden alcoves, each corner revealing glimpses of entwined, sweaty bodies. Red andblue lights pulsed overhead, casting everything in a surreal glow. Chains hung from the ceiling, clicking together as I walked through them.

A hand grazed my shoulder. I turned to see a man with a sly grin and hooded eyes. Without words, the stranger reached out, fingertips trailing down my arm. I allowed myself a half-smile but shook my head gently. The man shrugged and melted back into the crowd.

I moved deeper into the labyrinth, the sounds of soft moans and muffled conversations blending into a seductive soundtrack. In an open room, two men were lost in each other, their movements synchronized like a dark dance. Nearby, another trio was entwined in a complex choreography of limbs and desire. I watched for a moment, a voyeur to their anonymous intimacy.

Continuing on, I felt the weight of someone’s gaze. I glanced over to see a pair of eyes meeting mine—a silent invitation. Before I could respond, the man approached, bold and unapologetic. He knelt in front of me, hands resting on my thighs. I exhaled slowly, allowing myself to be pulled into the moment.

But as his mouth worked my cock, I felt a disconnect. It was physical, yes, but hollow—a temporary balm that couldn’t touch the deeper ache inside me. I gently pulled away, offering a nod of thanks before moving on.

The air grew thicker, the lights dimmer. My senses were heightened. I turned a corner and nearly stumbled upon a scene that took me aback—a man pressed against the wall, eyes closed in ecstasy as he was railed by one man while another sucked his cock. The raw intensity of it senta jolt through me. My towel twitched as my cock grew firm underneath it.

I continued on. Finding a quieter hallway, I leaned against the cool tile, closing my eyes. Suddenly, without warning, the faces of the victims flashed behind my eyelids—their lifeless eyes, the black feathers. The weight I’d tried to shed was creeping back in.

Maybe it was time for me to go. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to frequent a place like this.”

The voice was smooth, with a hint of amused curiosity. My eyes snapped open. Standing before me was the man from earlier that evening—the one who had pulled me back from the brink of disaster.

The night just became a whole lot more interesting.

Chapter 3

Theo Glass

The city’sheartbeat pulsed beneath my feet as I walked through the rain-slicked streets, the golden chain around my neck tight against my skin. It matched with the two gold earrings I had recently bought after spotting them in a window display.

Jace Holloway exited the building across the street. There was clear tension in the detective’s shoulders, hunched nearly to his ears. There was something captivating about him—a darkness that mirrored my own. I followed Jace at a distance, the thrill of the hunt sending a familiar rush through my veins.

And then the fool almost made himself roadkill.

Lucky he was being stalked.

But I wasn’t done with him. I was intrigued by those deep brown eyes and that crooked smile of his. Like a crow—a rave—finding something sparkly and bright to bring back to itsnest.

Jace walked past the subway station, down five city blocks, turning toward a street that was cramped between two large office buildings, leading me to an unmarked door with a subtle neon sign—Chained. It was a bathhouse known for anonymity and indulgence. I smirked.

The night was about to get interesting.

I paid my entrance fee, the man behind the thick glass giving me a subtle look of recognition. It wasn’t the first time I’d visited.

Inside, the air was thick with steam and the scent of musk, sweat, and sex. There were dark iron chains hanging from the ceiling. They clinked together as men walked through them. I shed my clothes in the locker room, revealing the tapestry of tattoos that adorned my toned physique. The phoenix on my left thigh seemed almost alive, wings outstretched as if ready to take flight. I wrapped a towel loosely around my waist, the fabric resting low on my hips, and adjusted the golden chain so it lay flat against my sculpted chest.

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