Page 58 of Brainwashed

But instead, he just smirked at me. “This is such a good idea! You can model your outfits before you try them on.”

I let out a secret breath of relief and chuckled. “Yea. He’s really helpful that way.”

His smile was still resting comfortably on his lips as he wandered over to me. And while I was trying not to embarrass myself, he kissed me.

He was definitely the more dominant one, and something about it felt soright. The way he held my face and kissed me until I was dizzy. The way he pushed us toward the couch, too impatient to try for the bedroom, falling on top of me and pinning me down.

“Felix,” he purred into my mouth, and I melted.

“Emmanuel…” My hips lifted to seek him out.

“You taste so sweet.” His hands were all over me, and I was burning alive.

I was so anxious for more of him, eager to find out if sipping him would finally quench that thirst inside me.

“I… I want you,” I rumbled in between him sucking on my lips, his tongue tangling with mine.

My eyes crept open, and I peeked across the room at Want the mannequin.

“Are you a top or a bottom?” Emmanuel asked, writhing his clothed erection against mine. “I’m a switch, so I’m good with whatever you wanna do.”

I didn’t really know what to say in that moment. The only other time I’d had sex, I was the top. So I figured that was what I was. Though a tiny frisson of excitement swam inside me at the idea of Emmanuel pushing me onto my stomach and spreading me open…

A little moan slipped out of me at the images in my head.

His hand slipped between our bodies, and he cupped my dick. “You’re nice and big. I’m happy to take this deep, baby.”

“Okay,” I sighed, giving in immediately. Despite my curiosities, I was going to stick with what I knew, since I was inexperienced as hell and didn’t want to humiliate myself.

So we began stripping, kissing and touching all the while. Emmanuel had condoms and lube, thank God, because I didn’t have any of those things. And when I sunk into him, we were face to face, our lips connected, our bodies joined. Our souls melting together.

I wasin love.

We fucked for hours that night, so many times I lost count, still kissing when the sun came up. I made him breakfast, we took a shower together, and he taught me how to make him come with my mouth.

We didn’t leave my apartment for two full days, and even when we did, it was just to take a walk for pizza. That entire weekend was the best time of my life. Emmanuel had stolen my heart in record time, and with every moment we shared, a fantasy was building in my mind.

A vision of us, and a life together.

I was going to ask Emmanuel to move in with me permanently.

He had a job as a waiter at a cafe in SoHo, but he barely made enough money to feed himself, which was why he spent so much time in the bars. He was sort of like an unofficial sex worker, hooking up with guys for a place to stay, for food and drinks and whatever he could get. And I hated the idea of him feeling like he needed to sell himself. He was too precious to me.

He wasperfect, and if I needed to find a way to support him, then I’d do just that.

My parents would understand. They had to. But as it was, they paid little to no attention to me. They wouldn’t even find out Emmanuel was living with me unless they decided to come for a visit, which hadn’t happened since I got the apartment, so I wasn’t too worried about it.

I was more worried about asking Emmanuel to stay, since it was clear that he was a free bird. He talked about it all the time. How he never wanted to be tied down; he didn’t agree with monogamy or marriage… He prided himself on being different and not fitting into societal molds, which I loved.

But I also lovedhim, and I knew I needed to keep him. I would do everything in my power to show him what we could be together… If he would just stay.

By Sunday night, Emmanuel was becoming restless. It was sending my stomach into knots of unease, desperation weaving its way through my chest. At one point, he was outside on his phone for almost an hour, while I watched him from the fire escape, listening to his conversation.

He was talking to his cousin, who wanted him to move to Miami. He told her he wasn’t sure, and that he liked being in New York, but by the end of it, I could tell he was considering it.

He was going toleave.

And I was frantic.