Page 27 of Peep

Post-nut guilt floods me for the first time since we started these little shows. Why didn’t I just tell him? Let him in. I did what I always do whenever anyone gets close. I used my body and humour to avoid the painful truth. And look where it got me, alone with a bigger hole in my chest.

Chapter 13

Anders

Icouldn’t just stay away, could I? Even after I witnessed the horrors of what happened in that bedroom three nights ago.

When Jahmar realised I’d blocked him and he glanced up at the camera, I saw what I’d done. I may as well have cracked his ribs open, reached inside and ripped his heart out.

Despite the fucked up operation he clearly has going on, I had no right to boss him around, demand he fuck himself, and then leave him high and dry. I essentially used him to get off while watching him. I can’t help but feel icky about that. Although I’msomewhat reserved in everyday life, I’ve always taken a more dominant role in the bedroom, so I’m no stranger to safewords and aftercare. Even if I wasn’t there with him physically, I held control; I dominated him in every sense of the word, and then I blocked him because I’m a fucking coward.

Once the lust-filled haze had faded, images of him mutilating that man and smiling about it assaulted me, making me feel physically sick despite the amazing orgasm I’d had because of him.

How can I be enchanted yet disgusted by someone all at once? He’s an oxymoron. I want to kiss him, then punch him, fuck him, then kill him, love him, then hate him. Woah, hang on. Love him? Absolutely not, I definitely don’t want to love him. He’s just a scab I can’t resist picking. He’s not something I get to love…

I should’ve demanded he explain what the operation was all about, but instead, I thought with my dick, and now we’re in an even bigger mess than before, so messy we can barely see the floor beneath us.

I should unblock him, and apologise for treating him like a slut, only there for my entertainment. Yet, I’m torn; what if he actually is torturing and killing people? Is this good doctor performance all an act? There’s no way I want to get tangled up in that web. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I can’t keep jumping to conclusions. Guess there’s only one way to find out.

Hey, I’m feeling much better. I’ll be in later.

Femi

Bout time, mi miss yuh xxx

Every time the automatic doors slide open or the lift pings, I swear my heart gets trapped in my oesophagus. This feeling is fucking gross, not knowing if he’s here or at work. I could knock on his door—that would require a pair of balls, though, which I currently don’t have. Oh god, balls. I guess Jahmar could lend me a pair; he probably has some stored on the top shelf of his fridge. My insides twist.

Fuck, I need a distraction. I need to think of anything else but that. I log onto my security system to check the pool area and study rooms. I’ve somehow resisted the temptation to check Jahmar’s feed all day. I needed to get my head straight before we inevitably bump into each other again.

I swivel on the chair so Femi can’t see what I’m doing on my phone. Not that she’s paying me much mind; the chimes coming out of her phone let me know she’s playing Candy Crush. What is it with people over the age of fifty always having their phones on loud?

Knowing she’s not paying me any attention, my willpower snaps. My thumb moves over and clicks on Jay’s feed. All I see is blackness. He’s covered up the camera. My cheeks heat, and my stomach plummets. Fuck, is this how he felt when I blocked him? I do not like this feeling, not one bit at all.

I push away from the front desk, stand up, and snag the master keys off the side. I feel the disappointment etched into my facial features, so I flatten out my expression before speaking. “I’m going to lock up the pool and do the evening walk around,” I mumble, avoiding eye contact.

“Well awrite.” Femi barely lifts her head, grinning at the game she’s playing.

I don’t know which feeling is worse, watching Jahmar mutilate someone or being denied access to him. It’s fucked. I should be glad he’s backed off, but instead, I feel like I’ve been dumped and ghosted. We were never even together, yet it feels like I’ve lost something monumental. Jesus Christ, that can only mean one thing. I actually fucking like the psycho.

I make my way around the pool, collecting any stray towels the lazy fucks who live here couldn’t be arsed to put into the laundry basket. Once I dump them, I head to the sauna to turn it off for the night. As I step inside, heat assaults me, tickling my cheeks.

“Anders.”

I gasp, clutching my chest. “Fuck, you scared me.”

I already feel my clothes clinging to me, begging to be removed due to the suffocating heat, or maybe it’s because I’m around Jahmar. I go to step back and make my escape, but he pounces, snagging my wrist and halting my retreat.

“Please, wait.” His tone is soft for once, sounding almost pained. I hate that I did that to him. Made him subdued and nervous around me.

I huff, then stop tugging against him, and he releases my wrist now that he’s sure I won’t scatter like an antelope being chased by a lion. He keeps claiming I’m a little lion, so I need to stop acting like weak prey. We’re both dangerous in our own ways.

The lights are dim in the sauna, but my eyes flash to the bright white towel that pops against his dark skin. The contrast is exquisite. There’s a light dusting of curly hair trailing from his stomach down to his crotch, where the towel hangs dangerously low on his hips. An exasperated groan escapes me when I look up, and a devilish grin paints his stupidly handsome face.

“We need to talk,” he says, schooling his face to something more serious when he sees my frustration.

“Fine, meet me outside in five.”

“No, in here is better, more private, no cameras.” His cheek twitches, but he manages to suppress his smirk.