Page 28 of Mask and the Magnolia

No.

Not after wording it like that.

Now I want to survive long enough to bend him over this desk and claim him the way the universe intended whilehewears the muzzle and these fucking cuffs.

Soon.

It’s going to happen, there is no doubt in my mind, but we need the other pieces of the pack to fall into place first because I won’t bond with him if it doesn’t mean bonding with everyone.

I’m romantic like that.

“Mr. Hawthorne?”

Nodding, I try to slow my breathing as he places the instrument around his neck then he’s reaching toward the back of my head. I can see his hands tremble slightly before they disappear from view, Isaak’s fingers gently moving to the straps as he begins slowly working the buckle free.

This is the closest he’s ever been.

The closest, and it’s the first time he’s touched me.

It won’t be the last, not with how such a simple gesture has my focus shifting from how shitty I feel to how easy it would be to pull him into my lap and change the entire plan for our session.

“There.” Isaak tucks the restrictive piece of garbage into his pocket then his hands are on my face. “You feel a little feverish.”

“Do I?” My eyes slide shut, the feel of his skin against mine a beautiful thing.

The inside of his wrist on my forehead, his fingers prodding at my glands.

It’s all clinical, shit almost anyone would do if they saw someone who seemed sick, but this feels different.

It’s damn near erotic and if he’s not careful, I won’t be able to behave myself at all.

Isaak cups my cheeks, lightly pressing on my sinuses before his movements still, and I can’t help the way I lean onto his touch.

“You, uh,” he says as his thumbs slide back and forth under my eyes. “You don’t appear to have any other symptoms.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

My eyes open slowly, immediately connecting with his golden hazel colored ones as a grin spreads across my lips. “So, I’m just hot, doc?”

“Yes,” Isaak whispers and nods, his stare never leaving my own. “I… It seems to me… I think…” He swallows hard then shakes his head, dropping his hands and taking a step back as he clears his throat. “I’ll call down for something to aid in breaking the fever but otherwise?—“

“I’m the perfect male specimen?”

A flush races up his neck, stopping just under his glasses but the doc just shakes his head and quickly moves back to his desk, snatching his notepad from the top before he starts scribbling away in his shorthand. “The picture of health.”

Hardly, but that’s okay.

We both know I’m several cards short of playing with a full deck, same as we both know there’s something physically wrong with me.

I’ll be damned if I tell him what it is, though. Not if there’s potential for him to touch me again.

Until he and our sweet little flower are doing that of their own free will and as often as our situation allows, I’ll take what I can get.

SEVEN

WEARING THIN