Avery laughed. “Oh, my stamina will be up, and stay up, as long as you need it to, I promise.”

  Dirty talk…one of my favorite things in a partner. Hopefully Avery would continue to be more vocal in the sack.

  He caressed my ass when I walked past him, then the hostess smiled at us and asked if we had reservations.

  “We do,” Avery replied, giving her his name.

  “Right this way, please.” She grabbed two menus then walked away, her denim skirt swaying with each step, her cowboy boots tapping along the wooden floors.

  “Reservations, eh?” I asked, giving Avery a sideways glance.

  “Heard it got packed on the weekends,” he replied. “It’s a good thing I did make reservations. Otherwise we would have had to grab some fast food.”

  And get naked sooner. That might not have been a bad thing.

  Although something about Avery still made me uncomfortable, the meal was good. The conversation was…weird, I guess. Avery asked questions about my past, and interests, but he didn’t seem pleased with the answers I gave. I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, and when I asked him if he was expecting some other kinds of answers, he said no, that he was just distracted thinking about what he wanted to do to me later.

  I wasn’t an impassive lover. There’d be doing to each other or no doing at all, which was what I told him. I don’t hand over control to anyone. That’s not my thing.

  Whether or not Avery believed me remained to be seen.

  When I headed to his hotel with him, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, and I knew it. But I’d done a lot of questionable things—or questionable men, rather—and fucking Avery seemed in line with my hooking up with guys I’d never be able to have a relationship with. Unsurprisingly, I’d found Avery to be on the shallow side, but I wasn’t that deep myself, hence the sex we were about to have.

  In the hotel room, Avery pushed me forcefully up against the wall—again.

  “Hey,” I snapped. “Cool it or I’m walking out of here.”

  “It’s just that you turn me on so much,” Avery muttered before slashing his mouth over mine.

  That claim sent little shrieks of alarm through my brain. Then Avery’s hands were all over me, caressing, groping, undressing. When he teased his fingers over the leaking slit of my cock, I would have cried out if I could have. Avery was still kissing me, his tongue invading and pressing mine down over and over.

  “I’m gonna fuck you,” Avery said against my lips.

  “’Kay,” I managed, thinking we’d be headed for the bed.

  But Avery turned me around and yanked my pants to my ankles. I slapped both hands to the wall to keep from face-planting against it. I guess I was flattered that he wanted me so badly he couldn’t seem to think.

  Avery pulled my cheeks apart and spat.

  “Oh, no way,” I said. “Lube and condom.”

  Avery slapped my ass so hard I yelped. “I’m on PrEP.”

  “Good for you,” I snapped, trying to turn around. “I’m not. Put on a condom and use lube, or we’re done. I’ve got both things in my front left pocket.”

  Avery glared, but I wasn’t giving. I started to reach for my jeans.

  Avery beat me to them, digging into the pockets.

  “Don’t do me any favors, man. I think you killed the mood already with the attitude and hitting me,” I informed him.

  “It was a spank, a love tap,” he protested. “Spanking is what everyone is into now.”

  “Avery.” I turned around. My dick was only half-hard. “You spank me again, and I’ll use the lamp to clobber you with. You can pick pottery shards out of your scalp. You don’t just assume someone wants to be hit. Ask first.” Moron. And I should have walked away then.

  But Avery looked embarrassed. “You’re right. I like to spank, and I just—well, this is a hook-up, not a relationship. I can fuck without spanking. If you’ll just let me…” He leaned closer. This time his kiss was smoother, gentler, less dominant and more…well, tender.

  It melted my irritation away. His hand cupping my balls helped, too. By the time my dick was fully hard again, I’d forgiven Avery for being a dumbass, and I turned to the wall willingly. “Like this?” I asked. “You don’t want to lie down?”

  “Like this,” Avery said. He pushed two slick fingers right into my asshole without even teasing around the rim.

  I hissed. It hurt a little, but there was no big pain, certainly nothing I couldn’t handle.

  “So hot, tight,” Avery muttered.

  If he asked to ditch the condom, I was gone. He might have been on PrEP or he might not have, but I wasn’t taking chances with my life.

  Avery touched my prostate and my legs went wobbly. He laughed darkly and rubbed over it again, then again, and he kept at it until I was a panting, drooling mess.

  Then I heard the condom package being opened, and a few seconds later, the blunt, hard tip of his cock was pushing at my hole.

  “Come on,” I urged, ready to get pounded. “Fuck me!”

  Avery held me at the hips as he pushed into me. He was a little rough again—not that I minded this time. That stretch and burn could morph into the most glorious pleasure.

  Which might have happened except Avery suddenly became very rough, grabbing my shoulders, hands right on either side of my neck, and shoving his cock all the way into me. At the same time, he pulled my upper body back slightly, then pushed it forward, slamming me against the wall.

  I was dazed, totally confused. What was happening? He was fucking me, I had wanted him to, and he was getting violent?

  But then he nuzzled my cheek and neck, licked the shell of my ear. His dick was thick and hot, sawing in and out of me.

  I couldn’t tell what from what as he moved faster, grunting, canting his hips so his crown brushed repeatedly over my gland. Just as I felt my orgasm building, the bright, hot swell of it threatening to burst, Avery’s hands slipped up to my neck and he began to squeeze.

  “Tell me where it is.”

  Chapter Six

  Avery and his goddamned kinky streak! I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t tolerate breath play any more than I’d tolerate him slapping my ass, but he tightened his grip and I could hardly even breathe.

  Then I couldn’t breathe at all as he pounded into me, his cock rubbing that sweet spot inside me. He left off choking me but still had a too-tight grip on my throat. In fact, he got one hand on my neck centered and squeezed harder, as he jerked me off with his other.

  And god damn it all, much to my humiliation, I came like a geyser, body jolting, vision dimming, cum spurting out in jets so hard I could hear it hitting the door.

  “Where is it?” Avery asked, ramming in harder with each word. My vision was turning darker by the second. I really couldn’t breathe at all, and if he was playing some kinky game, he was about to kill me.

  My orgasmic haze vanished in a snap and I reached for his hand, his forearm, clawing and pulling to get him to let go of my throat.

  When I did, he roared so loud that my ears rang, and he came, his cum jetting inside me. It was hot, hot enough to be uncomfortable, spurting into my ass.

  I had lied to him about not being on PrEP. I was, but I didn’t skip condoms, ever, because PrEP doesn’t protect against other STIs. Chances were good I wouldn’t get HIV from him, but there were too many other things I could catch.

  I was still pulling at his arm, though he’d loosened his grip on my throat. He had his hips curled tight to my ass and kept grinding as he shot more spunk into me.

  “Avery—” My voice cracked, and it was barely more than a whisper. “Get—” I forced, using every twist and turn of my body that I could to get him off me. I was going to kick him if I needed to, or bite. “Condom broke,” I snapped, though I sounded like a three-pack-a-day smoker. My throat ached, my ass hurt and there was cum in me, something I’d never allowed a guy to do.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t remember feeling the rubber break. Then again, he’d been choking the shit out of me. I got mad. No, furious. The sex had been consensual. I’d wanted him to fuck me hard. The choking? No. I shoved him—

  And he slammed me back against the door. Avery grabbed the side of my head and face and pinned me there.

  Through it all, he was still grinding, coming, like some kind of freak who was able to orgasm endlessly.

  I didn’t stay still. I cursed and bucked, but he was bigger than me, stronger. “Get out of me!” I finally managed to rasp. He did pull out, and still I felt splatters of ejaculate on my ass, my lower back, dripping down my thighs. It was hot, too hot, and not in the fun, sexy way. The liquid felt as though it was burning me, inside and out. Not as bad as the stone. Just…too warm.

  I really must have been losing my mind—that was all there was to it.

  Finally, Avery finished, and I swear to God, I must have been covered in his semen. I don’t know how, but it seemed to be everywhere on my entire backside, and dripping from the hole between my legs.

  The sudden awkwardness and anger made me twitchy. I pushed again, and this time, Avery let me move a few inches away from the wall.

  Then he spun me around and I opened my mouth to blast him about the whole busted condom and choking bit, but he shoved two cum-covered fingers into my mouth.

  I gulped without thinking, then got even madder. I bit, and he bellowed. Motherfucker! I bit him harder, and he slapped me.

  That jarred me to my bones. It also sent me into a rage like I hadn’t ever experienced. I don’t remember it all after the first swing. I just tried to break him into pieces. I wanted him dead, as horrible as that sounds. He hadn’t sexually assaulted me—I’d been all for the sex—but the choking had been a physical assault. Then I remembered his stupid fucking question, Where is it? Like he couldn’t tell when he was nailing my gland?

  The guy was a fucking psychopath, sociopath—some kind of ’path that was bad.

  He was also a better fighter than me, and I soon found myself taking punches that made me want to vomit before Avery got me into a headlock.

  I thought he’d ask me why I’d flipped, so I started to tell him. “You can’t fucking choke someone just to get off—”

  Avery cut me off by tightening his hold, choking me all over again. “It wasn’t to get off. I didn’t intend to come with you. Look at you,” he said derisively. “You’re as dull as rusted metal.”

  Sure I was, and that was why he’d come so much I was dripping with his release. Still, the insult struck home a little. I knew I was plain.

  “But your ass was so tight, so hot and when I choked you, everything inside contracted. You made me come,” Avery continued. He slipped one hand up over my mouth and nose.

  And now, I was really panicked. I tried to kick and claw and hit, but he punched me upside the head and I was so dizzy, I didn’t know how to make my body work after that.

  This guy was going to kill me. He was obviously fucked up, and I’d been stupid, so damned stupid, to ignore my instincts and meet up with him. That was what thinking with my dick got me.

  Some small part of me wouldn’t give up, though, and when I managed to pound my fist against his dick and balls, Avery howled and let go of me. I got another shot in and saw through a haze that he was curled up on the floor, holding his junk.

  I didn’t hang around. I still had my pants on. I pulled them up, noting how wet my thighs were, my butt—my clothes were gonna smell like cum no matter what.

  I didn’t give two shits. I was out through the door, stumbling at first, then getting it together and running for the stairs. I needed to escape without being seen, hopefully.

  Every part of me hurt. Avery had not pulled any punches. I was sure I was a mess, but I’d deal with it later, once I was home.

  And if I ever saw Avery again, I’d run like my life depended on it. Because it probably did.

  Chapter Seven

  I don’t think I’ve ever scrubbed my body so hard in my life. Avery was some kind of damn freak, coming so much. And he’d come in me, by mistake he claimed, but I didn’t believe that. Not now. I ached all over. I was panicking about him coming in me, and being hit. Guys like me tended to be bullied as kids. I hadn’t been, because I’d hidden who I was so well, but later, yeah, people said hateful shit.

  But no one had ever hit me, not even my parents. To have been attacked, especially the way Avery had done it, was just…soul-scarring. Maybe I was being too dramatic, but in that moment, with the hot water scalding me and my skin bleeding in some places, either from the scrubbing or the fighting, I felt as if I was never going to be the same man again.

  They say violence changes a person. Whoever ‘they’ are, that statement is true. Whether that change would be as long term as I felt it would, remained to be seen.

  I scrubbed until the water ran cold, all the while replaying in my head what had happened, over and over. It seemed likely that Avery hadn’t been asking about my prostate when he’d been choking me and asking me where ‘it’ was. That had to mean the man was some kind of damn psychopath or something. Was there a serial killer taking out gay men in the region? Even with the advances made for equality, I wasn’t sure the news would pick up a story like that, or if the cops would look into it. Although, one of my friends was a police officer in town. He was straight as an arrow, but a good guy with younger twin brothers, both of whom were gay.

  They’d been smart and moved away to New York City.

  Then again, maybe there were more serial killers in New York. Probably. I shook my head. My thinking was scattered, erratic and all kinds of fucked up.

  I did my best to clean myself inside and out. When I turned the water off, even though it’d gone cold, I felt as thought I was burning up all over. I got out and toweled myself dry, and when I glanced in the mirror, I froze. Everywhere that Avery’s semen had landed on my skin, soaking through my clothes, was a dark purple-red. It hadn’t been that way in the shower, not that I’d noticed. Had I over-scrubbed?

  My ass burned like fire, too. Inside, deep inside, everywhere his cock had been in me. It had to be a psychological response. No one had burning sperm. I leaned closer to the mirror. I had bruises on my face, the skin under my left eye turning black, finger marks on my neck, a busted lip, scratches…and blisters where there’d been some spunk under my chin that had probably gotten smeared there as we’d fought.

  It had to be in my head. The brain can make the body do weird things.

  I felt hotter by the minute, painfully so. It definitely had to be my imagination or subconscious fucking with me.

  Leaving the towel on the floor—I’d deal with it later—I went into my bedroom. Each step was agonizing. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. “Shock.” That had to be it.

  Despite how much I hurt, I found myself detouring to the pedestal where I kept the jasper stone. I didn’t have a cat or dog to cuddle up to for comfort. I had the only item I’d kept with me when I’d lost everything else.

  The stone seemed to glow bright—probably another brain-fuck, or it could have been my vision blurring. Tears burned my eyes, a reaction that was utterly stupid. There was no reason for me to cry now. The sex had been consensual, though the rest of it had been unprovoked and unasked for, but I’d gotten away. I was home, safe. Avery hadn’t followed me. I’d kept checking my rearview mirror to make sure no vehicles were consistently behind me. I’d driven home in some kind of automatic survival mode.

  Shaking myself all over, I picked up the stone almost reverently. It was so cool in my hands now, so smooth and perfect. The glow around it increased and appeared to be coming from deep inside it. I’d take this kind of hallucination over the burning-skin-and-ass one any time.

  Something about the stone calmed me, as it always did. Closing my eyes, I brought the stone to my lips, kissed it and sighed. I was a weirdo but at least I wasn’t a violent one. I didn’t believe in hurting others. If I found comfort in a rock, well, that wasn’t anyone else’s business.

  Eventually, I opened my eyes enough to stumble back to the bedroom. I flopped on the bed and, still, I hurt in that weird way along with the places I’d been punched and choked.

  But the stone’s chill seemed to slowly seep into me, easing back the fiery pain. Eyes closed once again, I imagined ice covering all the places where Avery’s cum had landed, soothing the burn, cleaning away the traces of his semen.

  When I dozed off, I wasn’t hurting nearly as badly, and the dreams of running through the Texas Hill Country with my boyhood friends were a comfort, too. Good memories, leaving no room for replaying the night’s earlier events.

  I slept without nightmares, without waking, or tossing and turning, and in the morning, when I awoke, there was a lack of soreness anywhere on my body.

  It was strange, but what was even more strange was as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror again, the jasper stone in one hand, I couldn’t believe my reflection.

  Every bruise and cut, every scratch and mark, was gone as if I’d never been attacked.

  Chapter Eight

  Talk about a total mind-fuck. I stood, jaw dropped open, eyes bugged out and my heart pounding so fast my chest ached. Fear drenched me. I had to be losing my mind, I had to be. I knew what I’d looked like, felt like the night before. I knew what had happened to me.

  My cell phone started ringing but I ignored it. Reality was too much for me to handle at the moment. The stone in my hand warmed and I could have sworn it actually vibrated. The sensation snapped me out of my shock. I opened my hand, closed my mouth and looked at the stone instead.

  It was the same beautiful jasper it’d always been, at least since I’d found it. I raised it and held it closer to the overhead light. The stone was densely colored. There was no seeing through it, no shards of light or even hints of it seeping through the rock.

  Maybe it wasn’t the average jasper stone—I’d done some research. The colors were an unusual mix, but that didn’t matter. It was still just jasper, albeit miraculously shaped and polished.

  Again, the oval-shaped stone seemed to pulse. I shook my head, still staring at the colorful rock. Going back to bed sounded like the best thing for me to do today.