Page 67 of Inevitable Destruction

“Will that even work?”

“Anything that will cut some blood flow off and make my veins bulge will work.”

He grabs the very packet I was staring at then shuts the drawer. He places the foil between his teeth and tears it open easily. The sight has my half-hard dick filling with blood. I can’t help the images of his cock flashing through my mind—it in my mouth, my hand, my ass.

“Fuck,” I groan. Why does that make me feel something? Why do I now all of a sudden think of a man’s dick in my ass? I never even looked at a man twice until I was forced to suck Rhett off, and now I’ve kissed my best friend because I’m confused.

He’s fucking with my head.

There’s a snap of rubber as Rhett stretches it a bit before lifting my arm and wrapping it around my lower bicep. I watch with a heavy gaze as he twists the latex into a knot, effectively turning it into a tourniquet.

Once it’s secure, he lets go, and I smile. “See? Told you it’d work.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, running his hand through his hair again before lowering it and picking up the needle. He holds it with his left hand, and with his right, he takes an opened alcohol prep pad and wipes my inner arm again.

“To make sure there isn’t lube there,” he mumbles, and all I can do is smile. For this man saying all he wanted was my pain, he sure is acting like he cares. Though, I guess it’s not bad he’s being as sanitary as possible. I could have it a hell of a lot worse off.

My eyes catch on a bead of sweat trickling down the left side of his forehead as he brings the syringe closer to my arm.

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