Page 29 of Six
I move on to weights and squat reps. Ollie has his back to me again from where I’m standing, but I can see his reflection in the long mirror on the wall. He is studying my body very intently.
The grey sweats I wear are tighter than usual, and by the heated expression on his face, I think he likes them. The black tank top that shows off my chest also seems to get a lot of his attention.
After a while, he steps off the treadmill and rubs his neck and face with his tank top, displaying his six-pack abs and the start of a dark happy trail, while walking toward the bench press. The sweat has turned the skin on his arms and shoulders slick and glistening. Deliciously attractive. I wait for him to change the weights on either side of the bar and then recline with his back on the bench before approaching him.
“May I?” I point at the spot behind the bar, offering him my help.
He gives me another smirk while nodding. I move behind his head at the end of the bench with spread legs, my crotch almost looming over his face. This is my favorite position for face-fucking, watching the shape of my cock sliding inside the throat while the guy is choking on it.
His darkening eyes are zeroed in on my groin, and I can read the equally filthy thoughts going on in his head. I step closer, and if we were alone, I’d yank his face against my semi and make him breathe in the sweat on my balls. I know he’d love it, from the way his nostrils flare like he’s trying to inhale me. He’d nuzzle his nose and mouth deep in my pubic hair to get a taste. The bulge in my sweatpants is growing, and when he notices it, a low, “Fuck me,” leaves his mouth.
Ollie seems to suddenly remember where we are and turns his attention to the ceiling. He shoves the bar up before bringing it back down toward his chest, taking a deep breath with every push upward. He’s lifting an impressive amount of weight, especially for his lean body. His arms are bulging, veins popping, as he raises and lowers the bar without much difficulty. Low hisses leave his lips every time he lowers the heavy weights. I can’t stop my stares of appreciation. His chest seems to grow under the pressure, his long torso and strong legs splayed out in front of my hungry eyes.
On the next lift, his arms look unstable, so I bend my knees and grab the weight bar with one hand to position it back on the rack. My crotch gets much closer to his face in this position, and I see him tilting his head back toward it.
His voice is a soft, dirty whisper. “If you keep waving that gorgeous cock in front of my eyes, I won’t be able to stop my mouth from slobbering all over it.”
Jesus Christ!I grunt and grab on to the weight bar till my knuckles turn white.
He bites his lower lip while heat splashes across his face and aims his challenging, pupil-blown eyes at mine. “I want to bury my face in your balls and taste them while I feel the underside of your cock rubbing on me.”
I grunt. Damn sassy kitty.
He smirks smugly, and for a nanosecond, I hold my breath, contemplating the idea of giving him my cock right here and now. But I straighten and take a step back. Ollie makes my brain short-circuit.
“Get up,” I growl, grabbing the towel I left on the floor to cover my granite dick clearly tenting my sweats. I’ll show him what that filthy talk can get him—my dick all the way deep inside one of his holes.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he quickly stands up, and we both turn toward the locker room when I hear, “Oliver! Where the fuck are you?”
His lusty expression turns empty, and he takes a few steps away from me, making my mood nosedive.
“Fuck. I gotta go,” he says. I can see the clear reluctance in his eyes before he scurries away. My gaze follows him as Ollie stops in front of his father, Richard Truman. He looks just like he does in the picture Rami sent me: old, unfit, and mean-looking. He angrily grabs Ollie’s bicep and squeezes. I curl my lips over my teeth and take a step toward them with the intent of fucking breaking that hand. But Ollie says something to him, and his father lets him go.
Ollie’s body is as stiff as a board when his father says something else. They’re too far for me to hear, but Ollie jerks back. I want to go to him, but I’m helpless as I watch them leave the gym, pain invades my head. The dormant anger inside of me awakes and begins pushing against my mental barriers. I slap a hand on the wall, nostrils flaring, trying to keep control of my mind, to reassert my grasp on reality. Every muscle in my body is rigid, ready, and alert. I have to stop it.
My head is pulsing. Pain, so much pain. I feel it crawling under the skin of my arms, like a snake slithering inside me, rolling in my guts, piercing at my temples. I just want it to stop.
“Easy! I’m here,” I suddenly hear Rami’s voice next to my ear. Fuck, thank God!
I can feel the round-shaped scars behind my ear throbbing. I force my hands to unclench. I use the breathing techniques that Meg taught me. In through the nose for three counts. Hold for three counts, and out through the mouth for three more counts. As I continue breathing, I feel the pain easing away my body relaxing little by little. My senses begin to function again. I can feel the coldness of the bathroom tiles against my forehead, smell the sweat and pee, see the light coming from the small window on the far wall. Hear Rami’s soft and out-of-tune singing voice.
The phantom pain is slowly subsiding. More minutes pass.
“Shake It Off?” I croak, while slowly looking around the bathroom Rami must have dragged me into.
“I was listening to Tay-Tay in the car. Got stuck in my head.” He’s checking that the stalls are empty. When he’s done, he leans his hip against a white sink, a worried look on his face. “How do you feel? You haven’t had a near Hulk episode in years.”
AHulk episode,that’s what Rami calls it when the pain from those years comes back, giving life to a rage so strong, it possesses me, a red haze attack that turns me into a furious, mindless beast.
I look at my pale face in the mirror. My eyes look hollow, but some color is coming back in my cheeks.
“I’m okay.” I splash cold water on my face. The sharp sound of the paper towels being pulled out of the metal box on the wall makes me wince. I’m always hyper-sensitive after an attack, feeling overwhelmed, but I recover rather quickly. “Did someone see me?”
Rami shakes his head, making me sigh in relief. “What triggered it?”
I rub my fingers over the stubble on my cheek. One minute I was about to head toward Ollie and his father, and the next, I felt the phantom pain piercing my head.
I groan. Maybe Ollie’s reaction to his father reminded me of myself and the years I was experimented on. Or this whole situation with Lenny, of feeling stuck, caged, not able to take my revenge, is messing with my head.
