Page 19 of Psycho
Lucas rolled his eyes but smiled like he couldn’t help himself. “Maybe.”
August grinned. “I’ll see you at one.”
“I didn’t say yes,” Lucas called after him.
“But you also didn’t say no,” August pointed out, turning and leaving before Lucas rectified that.
He had three classes before their ‘maybe’ date. He didn’t know if he could wait that long to see Lucas again, but he’d try. In the meantime, he needed to have Calliope deep dive into Laurence Kohn. Had he hurt Lucas? August would happily rip this Kohn guy’s tongue out if it made Lucas happy.
Was murder an act of service?
August was gone before Lucas really had a chance to look at the to go cup and realize there was writing on it.
I hope your day is as nice as your ass.
Lucas found himself smiling, ignoring the voice in his head screaming he clearly had a death wish. Maybe he did. It was no secret that August was dangerous. A killer. A man who had tortured countless men. He could decorate a stadium with all the red flags August had waved.
He’d broken into Lucas’s apartment—twice—watched him sleep, gone through his things, looked at his endless medication regimen. Lucas should have felt violated, indignant, angry. Instead, he was relieved. He wouldn’t have to explain himself to August. He already knew Lucas’s deep, dark secret and hadn’t run screaming in the other direction.
Because he’s a murderer.
Nobody’s perfect, right?
Lucas snickered at his own nihilistic thoughts. He had spent most of his life believing there were only two sides. Good and evil. Black and white. And all that thinking had done was leave him with a false sense of security and a piece of glass buried in his shoulder.
Now, he wasn’t sure what he believed. Kohn was out there. Kidnapping. Raping. Torturing women society had forgotten. When Lucas had done the right thing, gone through the proper channels, he’d almost been killed for his trouble. Women had lost their lives.
So, what was Lucas supposed to do now? When a person had exhausted every conceivable legal way to keep society safe, what was left except people like August? Wasn’t it better to kill one man to save a hundred more potential victims?
Maybe he was just rationalizing. Maybe he’d fallen so far into rock bottom he was willing to dismiss the crimes of a vicious psychopath just to feel normal in his own skin. He missed the person he used to be. Confident. Funny. Cocky even. A year ago, Lucas had thought he had the world figured out until one touch had confirmed he was a fool. Now, he had no idea what to think.
August was a depraved killer, who seemed to enjoy torturing people. But he also had a strict moral code. And yeah, he was weirdly honest and inadvertently funny and sexy as hell, especially when he had looked at Lucas with that raw intensity, like nobody else in the world existed but him.
But no matter how he looked at it, August was the villain, Batman or no. Still, the devil he knew had to be better than the devil he didn’t. Especially if that devil was on Lucas’s side. As much as Lucas hated to admit it, he’d already made up his mind about August. He’d let August do whatever he wanted, even to his own detriment.
There was no longer any part of Lucas that felt safe in this world. Kohn would come for him eventually. He’d made no secret of all the horrors he planned to inflict on Lucas for attempting to ruin his plans. He might as well enjoy his time on the planet while he could.
What did August think of Lucas? He’d gotten on his knees and told Lucas he’d wanted him, had pushed a knife into his chest just to be near him. Did he want to know the truth? He looked down at the cup August had brought him. One he’d held in his hand. One Lucas could probably get a read off if he dropped his shields.
Lucas looked out over the sea of faces. They all whispered about him, some more obviously than others, but none of them would dare say anything to his face, not when he controlled their grade in a much-needed class. Still, he’d be crazy to drop his guard there in the classroom just to get a peek into August’s head.
Fuck it. If August could go through Lucas’s medicine cabinet, he could go through August’s head. He gripped the cup in both hands, letting his eyes fall shut. He saw Cricket—the perky blonde cashier—heard her ask if Lucas was his boyfriend, and tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in his chest. Heard August say his idea of a compliment was saying he liked the way Lucas’s atoms were put together. He would have found that far more charming than what had ended up on the cup. Even though Cricket was right. Lucas did have a nice ass. It was after the goodbyes that things took a turn for the…steamy.
The images were far less detailed, flashes really, but still enough to send fire shooting through his blood. Lucas holding August’s wrists above his head. August kneeling, hands bound, head bowed, with Lucas looming over him. August on all fours with Lucas behind him. Lucas on his back with August riding him. He sucked in a gasp as he forced his eyes open.
There were a couple of startled giggles from the front row, but most people just looked at him like they were afraid he was moments away from snapping, when, in truth, he was rock hard behind his desk. Lucas could not teach a group of budding criminologists with an obvious erection. He’d be tossed out on day one.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about August wanting to submit…to Lucas. Fuck. He needed to maintain some objectivity, but having complete control over August—using him however he liked, knowing August craved that dominance—made him hot and shivery.
Lucas viewed sex with a certain amount of trepidation. It usually required laser focus for him because, if he slipped up, he might make the experience far more intimate than his partner wanted. Nothing ruined sex like accidentally letting his guard down and realizing the person he was with was thinking of somebody else, or had abhorrent sexual fantasies, or was actually a monstrous predator.
Lucas was hardly a blushing virgin but, with his clairvoyance, his sexual encounters often ended with hurt feelings or as a one night stand. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d been intimate with another human being and it hadn’t ended poorly. Or awkwardly. And, in one case, catastrophically.
But what was there he could learn about August that he didn’t already know? While he had no interest in seeing what he’d seen the first time he’d touched August, last night, August’s touch had brought nothing but an unexpected pleasure that had shot heat through his core. The truth was, August and Lucas already knew the worst things about each other, and knowing that was almost hotter than the thought of August on his knees for him. Almost.
Fuck, he’d looked so hot on his knees for Lucas. Maybe Lucas had already crossed the line into insanity because the thought of controlling and dominating August—an unconscionable killer, a psychopath who lacked an ability to feel remorse—had him rock hard. He wanted that. Wanted August. On his knees. On all fours. Hell, anyway he could get him.
Shit.
