Page 49 of Play Room Actor

“Why are you washing your hands?” I asked, resting my chin on his shoulder with my arms still wrapped around his waist.

“Just like that,” he answered curtly, running his wet hands through his unruly hair.

“Ah, that’s why,” I commented, imagining him standing topless on the beach.

“Let’s go out again.”

“Do I have to let go of you for that?”

“Yep.”

“But I don’t want to. You’re so warm.”

“Your cock seems to be just as flaccid as mine, so it’s okay if you let go of me.”

“Hello!” I called out, waving my hands in surprise. “Where did that phrase come from all of a sudden?”

Dominic shook his head in disbelief. “God, I’m becoming like you.” Then he walked past me and opened the door. “Are you coming?”

With a broad grin, we headed back to the counter. “You’ve got it in you, babe. Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, and a little da Silva.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Okay, baby.”

“Kil.”

Before we ordered, we reviewed the large drinks menu that hung above the coffee machine.

“Call me Kilian,” I said, without looking away. “Otherwise I’ll drag you back to the bathroom right away.”

Dominic grinned and approached the counter to place his order. I never got tired of looking at him from behind. And, God, what was it about the guy that turned me on so much? I had a difficult time keeping my hands off him.

The fact that he had considered my suggestion didn’t make my situation any easier. I could literally feel the greed growing inside me and the desire was almost impossible to control.

I’m going to give it to you, I thought as he peered over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll buy you something” he asked. “What do you want?”

You.

“An espresso.”

14

–––––

Kilian

As I finished the last bites of my salad, my father poured more wine for my mother and Yaël. After placing the empty bottle back in the kitchen, he sat down again between Ma and me.

Since my last super-high, I’d pretty much stopped drinking alcohol. A beer or two now and then was fine, but anything over five percent had a disastrous effect on my brain. At least, the last time it triggered a war in my head that I couldn’t escape for weeks.

In fact, my family didn’t find out until the police informed my father I had been admitted to the psychiatric hospital. Even then, I still felt like I had everything under control.

It wasn’t until I was released four days later from restraints and isolation, and my mind finally cleared, that I realized I had been completely out of control. That was three years ago. Since then, I’ve mostly kept the monster in check.

“And?” my father asked, taking his glass in hand. “Any new projects coming up?”