Page 9

Chapter 9

Benji Morrison

Being inside of Eli’s apartment felt equal parts right and wrong.

I’d been fantasizing about this since I started watching him. Wondered how the rest of his place looked. How he lived. Where he cooked breakfast, where he lounged during a lazy day, where he entertained friends and lovers.

It was pretty much just as I expected. Clean, modern, with some clear signs a gay guy lived there, considering the framed photo of a famous pop singer wearing only a jockstrap hanging in the living room. It smelled like fresh laundry, which let me know he was one of the rare few who could say they had a washer and dryer inside their NYC apartment. He mentioned his roommate, Fran, who was likely running errands or hanging out with her bingo club.

“Have you ever tried the drag queen bingo nights over at the Green Lounge?” Eli asked.

“I haven’t. Sounds like a good time, though.”

“Oh, it is. Every time someone wins, they have to get up and run around the bar while everyone else gets to toss their balled-up bingo sheets at them.”

I laughed at that. “Have you ever won?”

“Twice. The running is fun, but the free drinks you get after are even better.”

Drinks… I could use a shot or two of vodka right now, just to take some of the edge off. Being so close to Eli, in his sphere, with no one else around, was making me surprisingly anxious. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing or give the wrong impression. I had to toe a tightrope between being professional and being friendly without going overboard on either. I didn’t want to be creepy, either, which almost failed after my earlier slipup.

“So where should we set up these cameras?” He opened the bag and took out the three cameras we’d bought, setting them on a clean black dining table. It was pushed close to a window that looked out to the busy street. It was cracked open, sounds of the city leaking in.

Good. That would cover the pounding sounds of my beating heart.

“One needs to be outside in the hallway. I think another should be in the living room but aimed toward your bedroom.”

“And you’re sure we need these?” Eli asked. He was clearly nervous. I reached out, still spurred by the warm buzz of vodka in my veins, and rubbed his shoulder.

“I want to make sure no one’s been able to get in here and go through your stuff while you’re gone. This Nomad person has some kind of direct link into your schedule and plans. It’s likely that the hole we need to patch is digital, but I just want to make sure it’s not physical.”

Eli sighed. He leaned back on the table. Lucky had made himself at home by curling up on the blue-and-gray area rug near the front door. “I hate this so fucking much.”

“I know. It’s not ideal.”

“Not at all… What about the third camera?”

I turned to face him. “It should go in your bedroom.”

That made him pause, his fingers tightening around the camera. “In my bedroom?”

“Someone’s watching you, Elijah. They know your schedule. They know things they shouldn’t know. We need to make sure they haven’t gotten inside while you’re not here.”

He swallowed. He didn’t like it. I could see that much in the way his lips pressed together, the way his fingers flexed like he wanted to argue but couldn’t quite find the words.

I didn’t give him time to second-guess it. Instead, I grabbed the last camera and walked into his room like I belonged there.

And fuck, it really felt like I did. Like I’d been here before.

Dark green sheets still slightly rumpled from sleep. A half-full glass of water on the nightstand. A book facedown on the mattress like he had fallen asleep reading it. Clothes draped over a chair and—fuck me—a bottle of lube sitting right there next to that damn lamp that almost gave me away.

I clenched my jaw, shoving down the rush of heat flooding my veins.

Eli lingered in the doorway, watching me with those sharp blue eyes. Assessing me. “And you really think this is needed, right?”

I turned, placing the camera on the shelf across from the bed. It would capture the entire room from here.

“I do. And it’ll only be temporary. I hope I can have this solved soon.” It smelled like him in here. Like that Tom Ford cologne sitting on the dresser. “Now we just have to download the app and have these cameras go live. Then you’ll be able to keep an eye on everything at all times.”

“Perfect. Thank you for this, Benji. Seriously.”

I pulled up the app on my phone and started to set it up, using my email and information before I even realized what I was doing.

It should have been on his phone. His information. His log-in. I glanced at him. He sat on the edge of his bed, biting his nails and rubbing at his earlobe. It was an interesting tic of his, one that never showed when he was streaming. He looked equal parts relaxed and nervous. It tore me up inside. I had fantasized about this exact moment—being alone with Eli in his bedroom—and I had envisioned him as being completely at ease. His body unraveling for me as I explored it with my fingers, my tongue.

That was just a fantasy, though. The reality was that I was inside his bedroom under the guise of work. We weren’t here to hook up, no matter how badly I wanted it. This shit was serious.

I deleted the account name and password I just created.

“Here, finish up registering these cameras. Then you can download the app on your phone and just log in.”

Eli grabbed my phone and typed in his info. He finished creating the account and closed out of the app. He grabbed his phone and installed it on his. He logged in and was greeted with three different camera feeds, one of them showing our backs. I turned and gave the camera a friendly wave. Eli chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “This won’t be for much longer. I’m going to figure out what’s happening.”

“I believe you. I trust you.”

I trust you.

He might as well have said he loved me. I didn’t want to let him down, didn’t want to break that trust. I was going to show him I had his back.

Fuck. I wanted to kiss him. Wanted to throw myself against him, press my body on his, let him feel how fucking hard he was making me.

“Alright,” I said, “I guess I should be heading out. I’ve got some work to do.”

Eli paused. Shit. Was he going to ask me to stay? Would it be okay if I did?

“Let me walk you out,” he said. He stood, the space between us closing. I smiled, even though I felt my heart drop.

It was fine. We’d had a great day, one I hadn’t even expected to have.

Maybe more of those were in store for us? Maybe this was only the beginning.

* * *

I was wasted.

I had started drinking the second I got home, mind a tangled mess of obsession and paranoia, my thoughts spinning with Eli, with Nomad, with every fucking thing I had to do, all the work that was ahead of me.

I had spent hours combing through forum posts, dredging up every last trace of Elijah’s digital history, pulling archived footage, tracking down deleted accounts, following every thread that might lead me to the person threatening him.

Before I started taking the shots—scratch that, I was three deep before I even opened my laptop—I found a couple of accounts on different websites that might have been linked to the Nomad that was threatening and stalking Eli. One was a Reddit account that had the same exact username as one of the Nomad accounts. There were two posts: one was in a subreddit about Broadway shows, and the other was in a local subreddit about NYC coffee.

It was likely nothing. But could also very well be something . It seemed like a large coincidence that this person had a similar account name and also appeared to be located in the same city as Eli.

I leaned back in my chair. Lucky sat curled up on the couch. He seemed to be adjusting pretty well, even though I couldn’t help but feel sad for the little guy. I grabbed my glass, full of rum with a splash of Coke, and swirled it before taking a gulp.

My world was beginning to blur. My anxiety, my worries, they all started to disappear. I knew it’d be momentary, but I still welcomed it. Let the numbness drape over me like a nice, warm, cozy blanket.

I stood up from the chair, nearly tipping it over by accident. I stretched, walked over to the window. It was dark out. I glanced at the clock. Damn. Already eleven. I hadn’t realized how late it was getting.

Maybe it was time for me to stop working. I shut my laptop and shuffled to the kitchen, where I refilled my glass. I leaned against the counter, putting a hand inside my underwear.

I liked to work comfortably, so I had pretty much stripped down to my briefs once I got home. But even the briefs were starting to get annoying. I pulled those off, leaving them on the floor.

There. Better.

I took a chug of the drink and started to scroll through my phone. I wondered if he was online…

A quick check told me he wasn’t. That didn’t stop me from getting hard, though. Fuck. I’d been a leaking mess since I had said hello to him earlier today. He had no idea what kind of effect he had on me.

I wondered… did I have the same effect on him?

Maybe I didn’t? Maybe I wasn’t his type? Maybe I didn’t even have a chance with him?

I took another heavy chug. Stroked myself. Got harder.

If he wasn’t online, then I could just pull up one of his older streams. It didn’t have the same kind of thrill as him being live did, but at least I’d get to see him jerk off.

Or maybe…

My finger hovered over the security camera app. I hadn’t deleted it yet. It was still logged in to his account.

Had I done that on purpose? Installed it on my own phone before his? Couldn’t tell. World was spinning a bit, thoughts were difficult to untangle.

I walked back to the couch. Lucky lifted his head, giving me a judgmental glare before dropping it again and closing his eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t do this, buddy.” I scratched his head before I leaned forward, phone in one hand and cock in the other. “It’s just for a second.”

I opened the security camera app.

Three boxes appeared on my screen. One showed an empty hallway, the other showed a dark living room, and the last one…

My breath caught, the view showing a slightly out-of-focus but intimate shot of Eli in his bedroom.

He wasn’t naked. He wasn’t performing. He was just there.

Wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants and a tank top, sprawled across his bed, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware that I was watching him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was wrong. So fucking wrong.

I swallowed, my pulse pounding as I shifted on the couch, my cock throbbing between my legs. It was more intimate like this. More forbidden. Like I had cracked open a hidden window into his world, into the pieces of him no one else got to see.

My hand drifted down, palm pressing against the ache between my legs, heat coiling low in my stomach.

I knew this was wrong. I knew I should stop.

But I didn’t.

I wrapped my fingers around my cock as I watched Eli stretch, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of golden skin. He was so peaceful. Completely in his element.

Fuck.

I stroked myself slowly, my breath coming in shallow pulls, my eyes locked onto the screen.

I was so fucking horny. And drunk. And wrong. This was so wrong.

But I wasn’t doing it to hurt him. I was just a fucked-up man. Broken. Trying to heal something inside me that may never be fully fixed.

And right now, I was mainly trying to come.

“Fuck, Eli. I’m sorry.”

As if he could hear me. I continued to stroke myself, spitting in my palm and spreading it up and down my thick shaft. Eli chuckled to himself as he watched something on his phone. He put a hand under his shirt and rubbed his chest, showing more of his stomach.

So fucking hot.

So fucking wrong.

I needed to stop.

I had to come.

I needed another drink.

I jerked off harder, faster, leaning back and spreading my legs, cupping my balls.

The point of no return was near. I moaned, the coils in my gut tightening, my balls ready to empty my load all over the floor.

And then his phone rang.

I froze, fingers tightening around my cock.

Eli answered, voice slightly hoarse. “Hey, Zack, what’s up?”

I clenched my jaw, forcing my strokes to stay slow, controlled, even as my chest tightened with something sharp. This had crossed a line. I had to turn off the feeds and delete the app.

Zack was talking, voice muffled through the speakers.

My guilt started to cement into a nasty, toxic feeling in my chest. My cock—still rock hard and needy—couldn’t control me like this. I had to be a good guy. Had to turn off the feeds. Forget I ever even had access to these damn cameras.

“A party?” Eli asked. “A sex party? Okay, now you’ve got my attention.”

Just as I was about to delete the app, I froze.

What was he talking about?

“Invite only? Hold up.” Eli got up from his bed and sat on the edge. He reached for his laptop and set the phone down next to him, putting Zack on speaker. “What’s it called again?”

“Midnight Manhattan,” Zack answered. “It’s supposed to be a masquerade theme. The only thing you’re allowed to wear is a mask.”

“Damn… sounds hot.”

“I’m telling you, it is. You need to go.”

“Are you going to be there?”

“Possibly. I may have a date that night, but if that falls through, then I’m going.”

Eli typed something onto his computer. I watched this all happen as if I were in the room myself. A horny little fly on the wall.

“Do you think it’s smart for me to go? You know, considering everything going on?” Eli asked.

No. No it’s absolutely not smart. Stay home, Eli. Stay the fuck home.

“I think it’s smart for you to blow off some steam. Besides, you’ll be safe there. It’s invite only, and there will be a lot of other guys there. No one’s going to try anything. I’ve been to these parties before. Everyone is super respectful, super hot, and super fucking horny.”

Eli looked up at the ceiling. He glanced directly at the camera. I flinched. Felt as if he could see straight through it.

“Fine, might as well. Only live once, right?”

“Exactly,” Zack said.

Fuck.

I closed out of the camera feeds. This wasn’t good. Elijah shouldn’t be going to this. Not alone, at least. No. He needed someone protecting him. Watching his back.

I swiped over into my internet browser and searched Midnight Manhattan.

I’ll keep you safe, Eli.