Page 34 of Saving Pookie

"Dark room," he whispers back, lapping his tongue over the side of my neck.

I've heard of dark rooms before, but I thought they were a myth. The idea is that you go into a dark room to suck, get sucked, fuck, and get fucked—all anonymously. No lights, no cameras, no evidence. Under any normal circumstances, I would absolutely run. Unfortunately, I'm still carrying a heavy boner and a case of blue balls, and the ecstasy is shedding my inhibitions like clothing.

Outside, the Dave Audé remix of 'Neon Moon' begins to play. I only know the song because they're always playing it at Mr. Pinks.

The man in front of me pushes my shorts and underwear down my thighs and takes my leaking cock into his hand. His hand is smooth, a stark contrast to the ragged nature of his breaths. He nibbles on the lobe of my ear as he strokes me slowly, pulling moaning gasps from my throat one pump at a time.

A sudden flash lights up the dark room.

The man in front of me is younger than I would have guessed, probably about my age. Slender but with dark stubble.

There's a man on a bench on the opposite wall, his ass buried to the hilt on an older man's cock. He cocks his head over his shoulder as the camera flashes again. "Get that fucking camera out of here," he screams.

Just before the world goes dark again, I spot something—someone—that rips through the euphoria and sends me into a scrambling panic. I pull my shorts back up and shuffle past the guy giving me a handjob. As I round the corner of the darkroom, heading back into the crowd, I check over my shoulder to make sure I'm not being followed.

Fucking Cameron.

Why the fuck is he here?

He exits the dark room, dressed in a fitted suit. He's so out of place here, but that doesn't exactly matter. Not when he's chasing me through the crowd lining the far wall. I head back in the direction I first got separated from Braxton, but deep down I know there's no way in hell I'm going to find him.

It's even denser, even hotter than before.

The pink and blue strobe lights illuminate the faces in the crowd like fireworks, the haunting melody of 'Neon Moon' tearing holes through the fabric of the sex- and drug-fueled celebration of freedom.

And nobody is any wiser that I'm running for my life, running from my abuser.

I check over my shoulder again and he's... gone. I look to the right, to the left. There's no sign he was ever there. I consider the idea that it's just the drugs playing tricks on me. He'd never be caught dead somewhere like this. Right? A man of his status, of his tastes, of his reputation.

I turn around and bump into him.

Let out a scream.

But it's not him.

It's the other him.

My best friend.

"There you are," Braxton screams in my ear. "I got you a present."

"Yeah?" I question, breathless. "What's that?"

He steps to the side and gestures behind him where a pretty blonde woman and a shirtless hunk stand. "They're coming home with us."

CHAPTER TEN

POOKIE

It's been a long time since I've been awake at six in the morning, especially because I haven't even fallen asleep yet. By the time we left the club, the sun was already rising, and by the time we caught the train, it was already packed with normal people commuting to their normal jobs. And by the time we made our way back to the apartment with two new friends in tow, the party was only just getting started.

Dance music echoes off the walls of the apartment.

Andy snorts a line of cocaine off the kitchen counter, throws his head back, and pinches his nose. Andy, the hunk who's still shirtless and who came as a package deal with Braxton's girl for the night, Sienna. She and I sit on two of the three barstools parked in front of the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. Braxton and Andy stand on either side of us.

"You want some, Pookster?" Braxton holds his palm out with a lump of powder in the crux between his pointer finger and thumb. I must hesitate for a moment too long because he pulls away his hand and raises it to his own nose.

"No," I stammer. "Wait. I'll do it." The words leave my mouth before I have time to second-guess myself. "I mean, I can try it."