Page 63 of Brainwashed

He glances up from the notepad. He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s considering whether he wants to answer me or not. But eventually he says, “None like you.”

Three words. That’s all it takes for me to soar.

I push my glasses up my nose to distract from the hearts in my eyes that are probably super obvious. This is all I could have asked for in being arrested for my crimes…

I know I sound narcissistic, but that’s kind of the name of my game. I can’t deny how good it feels to be fawned over. It’s the attention I’ve been craving since I was a little boy following my dad around his office.

I watch Dr. Love closely, not even trying to be coy, while his pen moves on the paper. Today he’s wearing a maroon button-down that really brings out his eyes. It’s actually almost the same shade as this odd couch I’m sitting on, and his standard black pants, which I swear must be tailored to fit his physique.

The way that dress shirt hugs his muscles ishypnotic. The sleeves are rolled up his thick forearms, allowing me to see that he has tattoos. Lots of them, from the look of it. Lines of dark blue weave all along his brown skin, tracing the cords of muscle disappearing inside his shirt.

I desperately want to see how far up they go. I want to know if he has more… maybe on his chest, or his stomach. That area of his pelvis that slopes into his pants.

The V. I bet he has a killer V.

“Felix, do you need anything?” His voice startles me and I flinch, eyes popping up to his.

“Hm?” I ask, giving him my most innocent,I promise I wasn’t just thinking about your naked bodyface.

He places the notepad back on the table. “Anything to make your stay more comfortable.” I’m sure the look I’m giving him is one of pure shock because his lips do that little purse thing again. “It’s in my best interest to keep you content while I’m here examining you. If you’d like anything… Another book, perhaps? I’m working on getting you some better food. I can’t help but notice that you don’t even have any underwear on.”

That last bit causes me to choke on air and start coughing hysterically. He simply stares at me while I get myself under control.

“Um… yea.Underwear.” My blinking becomes rapid. “Well, word on the street is you can get whatever you want around here through the guards.” I smirk teasingly. “I have no problem spending ten minutes on my knees to get some boxers.”

I gawk at him for any sign of a reaction. It’s really a shameless attempt at making him jealous, but I can’t help it. He just mentioned my underwear… meaning he’s been thinking about what’s inside my pants.

Maybe?

It’s a stretch, especially because of how stone-faced he is right now at my little joke about trading sex for goods with the guards.

“Felix, you’re a serial murderer,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure whichhuman, let alone correctional officer, would willingly go near you for any sort of sexual favor.”

I can’t help the offended gasp that flees my lips, though I do have to chuckle. Once more, he looks simply illuminated.Does he really like making me laugh? Even when it’s by making fun of me?

“What are you trying to say?” I rumble through my grin.

He leans in. “I’msayingthat someone would have to be exceptionally stupid to let you anywhere near their dick.”

A spark inside me sizzles, my heart pumping faster by the second. It feels like he’s flirting with me… And even though he’s still his buttoned-up, seriously professional self, I can’t fight the urge to spar with him. I really like it already, and I think he might like it, too.

“Some people like to dance with danger…Doctor,” I rumble back to him.

His gaze narrows. “Just tell me what you want, Felix. I don’t have all day.”

This. This is exactly what I want.

The flutters in my gut are rapacious as I lift a shoulder, feigning disinterest as part of my little game.

“Why? Like I said, I could just get on my knees—”

“Because I’m offering,” he cuts me off with a growl. I think he’s becoming frustrated with me, and I don’t know why, but it’s electrifying.I guess I like pissing him off as much as he likes doing it to me.“You’re not getting on your knees, Felix.”

My eyes widen. “I’m not…?”

“No.” He squints. “Absolutely not. Now answer the question so I can get you out of my office.”

The dominance in his tone flips some kind of switch in me. And my head bobs.