Derekica Snake My Hostage My Love [MM] (pdf)

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Your voice...too loud. I was too weak to even lift my hand
up to cover my eyes.
A cool wet towel was laid across my forehead. Ah, that was
nice. The sheets were pulled back to my waist, nice again to be
released from that tight swaddled bond, then fingers pulled the
buttons free from my pajama top. Hands began to smooth over my
skin on my chest and stomach. They were cold. Weren t they
supposed to be warm? Why weren t they warm?
I always thought your skin would freckle if you ever went out
into the sunlight. How do you stay out of the sun while on that
island , my boy?
What? Weakly I brought my hand up and pushed at his
hand. He shouldn t be touching me. This wasn t Erik. Only Erik
could touch me... Ber�hren Sie nicht mir!
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Derekica Snake
His hands left my chest. Dort sind. That will be enough for
now. Be a good boy, Tre-don. The MRI didn t show anything major
but based on what you survived before, I really don t think your
skull can take another hard knock. This includes bouncing it off the
floor.
Wer?
Later, boy. I do hate to have to repeat myself.
Wh...
Later. Telling myself to get up and get out of this new
prison was all fine and dandy but my body wasn t listening. Sleep
seemed to be the thing it wanted to do right now, so I let it pull me
down into nightmares I thought were far behind me.
Winter was a shitty time to try and pick up dates. You can
either be warm in a second hand puffy Michelin man coat or you
can show some skin. Either way you get passed by or you flirt with
frostbite especially on nights like this. There was a wind chill
warning but after the sixth car cruised on passed, I knew that I was
going to have to go for option number two dress-wise. No jacket
and exposed skin, especially my lower belly. Older fucks really like
that. Maybe because their paunch covered over that bit of them. I
was itchy down there too. That score three days ago had paid a
couple of hundred to shave me...no, that wasn t right, it was to
watch me shave myself. It was an easy date. He jerked himself. I
didn t have to touch him. Creepy took the razor with him. Different
strokes for different folks. I grinned then grimaced as the cold hit
my teeth. Unless there was a car idling in front of me, I wasn t
taking off my coat.
I wouldn t even be out here tonight but the damned rent was
due. I didn t care if the landlord was willing to take it in trade, I
wasn t letting that rancid bastard near me. Glancing up and down
the street told me my luck was running out. Snow had started falling
lightly. It looks great on TV, but it kills traffic. None of the closet
fuckers want to get into a fender bender and then have to try and
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explain how they got it down in fag alley. My stomach growled. I
still had the couple of hundred on me. It was supposed to go
towards rent but I wasn t going to make anything tonight.
Normie, a fellow hustler, had warned me not to make
installments on the rent. Rancid bastard had a habit of keeping it
for himself. No full payment of rent, no receipt. No receipt, you got
evicted all legal like. A hand written receipt on piece of the corner
of a newspaper meant shit.
My ears perked up as I heard a car crunching in the snow. A
long black sedan with tinted windows cruised past the intersection.
Fuck this. I stamped my feet. I was cold and I was hungry.
Everything I needed was on my back anyway. Maybe I should hop a
bus and head somewhere warmer. I didn t have to stay in this
godforsaken town. Dear ole mom fucked off after she dropped me
out of the womb. Why the hell am I hanging around here hoping
that maybe someone might recognize me? Right, like some thirty-
something woman would see a red headed male prostitute and fall
to her knees to re-claim me now that her life was settled. It was an
orphan s wish-on-a-star fantasy.
I was too fucking old to be wishing for things. I m all officially
legal now; turned 18 two days ago. Yeah, wishing is a waste of
energy. If I want something to happen, I m going to have to make it
happen. Nothing comes for free. I hunched my shoulders up to
attempt to cover my ears. I turned and began shuffling down the
street. Considering it was a city ordinance to have the sidewalks
clear, I guess nobody was enforcing it. Or, more likely, who the hell
cared what happened down in the core. The trendy stuck to the
suburbs and the well lit cafes. I was the last one off the street. The
others had gotten lucky or recognized a lost cause and hustled back
out of the wind, cold, slush and snow to a warm room somewhere.
Not me. I was made of tougher stuff. More likely, I had a warmer
coat.
There was a bar up the street a couple of blocks over that kept
their kitchen open till two a.m. I headed there, they knew me and
unless I tried to work inside or order a drink (Cause, quote I don t [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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