Page 22 of An Unholy Affair
Jack took the tumbler straight from the tray and downed it.
‘Going to be that kind of night, is it?’ Finn asked.
He nodded. ‘I need to get wasted.’
5
Jack dreamt he was in a windowless and grey hospital room. The only furniture was a bed containing his father hooked up to an array of beeping machines. Jack had to be there with him, but wanted out.
His father opened his eyes, and the beeping intensified. Now, skin-crawling terror replaced the low-level panic. His dad wasn’t dead after all.
Jack glanced around. No door.
His father rose from the bed, his eyes pitiless black holes. A heavy, inescapable inevitability cloaked his movements. Feet hitting the floor, he stepped forward.
Jack backed up against the wall, his hands running along the paintwork in a fruitless search for a way out. He felt something under his fingertips—the faint indentations from lines scored with the point of a pair of scissors.
He knows.
The beeping reached an ear-splitting volume, tearing Jack from the nightmare. He cried out, sweating and gasping for breath. The beeping continued.
Throwing back the tangled covers, he grabbed his phone and silenced the alarm.Fuck!He’d set reminders for when to put his mother’s eye drops in and had overslept.
Leaping out of bed, his head lanced with pain from the sudden change in pressure, and his stomach cramped.You drank too much last night, you dick. He didn’t have time to put clothes on, so ran out of the room in his boxer shorts. Thundering down the stairs towards the living room, he yelled to his mum that he was coming.
Jack threw open the living room door and stopped dead.
His mother was sitting on the sofa, her head resting against the back as Simon leant over her, administering the drops. But that wasn’t the worst part of the tableau.
Perched on a sofa, directly facing the door he’d just rushed through, was Eveline.
Colour rose in her cheeks and her mouth opened as she stared at him. It seemed she was as unable to look away as he was. Her nostrils flared and her eyes dilated. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and his cock twitched.
Now, you decide to work?
A loud harumphing from Simon broke the spell.
‘Ah, the prodigal son. So glad you could make it.’
Jack’s gaze passed by him on its way to his mother.
‘Mum, I’m sorry I overslept. Give me five minutes to get dressed.’
He didn’t wait for a reply, but bounded back up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Standing under a cold shower, the part of his body that had let him down so spectacularly two nights ago was now reporting for duty with head-bobbing enthusiasm.Seriously?He’d thought he needed to see a doctor, but it was clear the issue was psychological, not physiological.
Scrubbing shampoo into his hair, panic gripped him. Could he ever get it up for another woman again? Without his cock, he couldn’t do his job. And without his job, he had nothing. After flunking his A-levels, he’d left education behind. He’d done no further courses, learnt no skills, had no career.
Fuck!He rinsed the suds from his body. He was clean, but in no fit state to exit the shower. He stared at his cock. No way could he touch himself, thinking about the untouchable woman downstairs.
Really? So who’s been in every fucking fantasy of yours for the last year, then?
Resting his head against the tiled wall, he closed his eyes. He couldn’t get away with a lie that big, even to himself.
As an escort, his cock may have been the star of the show, but his mind made everything happen. Before meeting Eveline, he’d never had an issue finding the women he was with attractive. If he needed a little help, his brain stepped in with erotic images to jumpstart the process and keep it going.
But since meeting Eveline, everything had changed. No matter how he tried to force himself to think of another woman, his thoughts recoiled immediately, springing back to ones of her. And now, with his clients, he was closing his eyes more and giving even more oral. Doing anything to trick his body into believing he was with the redheaded woman he’d met one night in a bar.
