Chapter 20

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           Christianburststhroughthewoodendooroftheboathouseandpausestoflickonsomeswitches.Fluorescentspingandbuzzinsequenceasharshwhitelightfloodsthelargewoodenbuilding.Frommyupside-downview,Icanseeanimpressivecruiserinthedockfloatinggentlyonthedarkwater,butIonlygetabrieflookbeforehe’scarryingmeupsomewoodenstairstotheroomabove.

           Hepausesatthedoorwayandflipsanotherswitch—halogens,thistime,thataresofter,onadimmer—andwe’reinanatticroomwithslopingceilings.It’sdecoratedwithanauticalNewEnglandtheme:navybluesandcreamswithdashesofred.Thefurnishingsaresparse,justacoupleofcouchesareallIcansee.

           Christiansetsmeonmyfeetonthewoodenfloor.Idon’thavetimetoexaminemysurroundings—myeyescan’tleavehim.Iammesmerized…watchinghimlikeonewouldwatcharareanddangerouspredator,waitingforhimtostrike.Hisbreathingisharsh,butthenhe’sjustcarriedmeacrossthelawnandupaflightofstairs.Grayeyesblazewithanger,need,andpureunadulteratedlust.

           Holyshit.Icouldspontaneouslycombustfromhislookalone.

           “Pleasedon’thitme,”Iwhisper,pleading.

           Hisbrowfurrows,hiseyeswidening.Heblinkstwice.

           “Idon’twantyoutospankme,nothere,notnow.Pleasedon’t.”

           Hismouthdropsopeninsurprise,andbeyondbrave,Itentativelyreachupandrunmyfingersdownhischeek,alongtheedgeofhissideburn,tothestubbleonhischin.It’sacuriousmixtureofsoftandprickly.