Read Online Not His Kiss to Take by Finn Marlowe - Free Book Online

victories. Only Evan looked extra smug. Not a favorable sign. He knew something and wasn’t saying; curse him, the dirty rotten cheater. As the evening turned to night, and the cramps started in earnest, it dawned on Jamie that Evan knew something because…because he was a fucking doctor . Not just an arrogant prick. A doctor.
    After spending an hour curled in pain and sweating buckets, Jamie accepted defeat. No Playstation. No zombies. No scaring homo-doc with naked girl boobs. It wasn’t fucking fair. I guess it’s an enema—whatever that really is—and a meeting with the bony-fingered dick doctor for you, Jamie-boy . All things considered, he’d kill for this enema thingy—anything to make the pain go away. I shoulda stayed in Bremerton and let Derek smack me around. At least I had friends there. And none of them even know what the fuck quinoa is.
    But he didn’t crawl as Evan predicted. Hurt too much. Rather, he knocked over the lamp again, trying to get comfortable, which never happened for even one damned second. Evan heard—he always heard—and waited in the doorway, widened his stance, crossed his arms, and looked smug.
    “ I hate you,” Jamie groaned.
    Not looking as smugly victorious as he could, Evan didn’t say anything. Instead, he crooked his finger. Come here, boy. Jamie heard it plain as day. Giving up, he rolled off the bed in humiliated defeat. He couldn’t figure out which was worse, losing the bet in the first place or knowing Evan was gonna get off on sticking something up his butt, the perv-o. What happened after the up-the-butt part, though?
    The incredible marble bathroom used to be his favorite place after the kitchen. He remembered that warm bath Evan had given him that first night, how that might have been the thing that saved him. Clean…
    Now that same room seemed kind of scary.
    “ Strip,” Evan commanded.
    Okay, he was already enjoying this, the jerk. “Why do I have ta be naked?” That made no sense. Yeah, he could see ditching the pants, but it was fucking cold in there.
    “ Do it.”
    T-shirt. Jammie bottoms. Socks. Jamie missed his socks; actually, they were Evan’s socks, but so what, he missed them.
    As Jamie shivered in his naked wretchedness thinking unkind thoughts, Evan alternated between organizing equipment and leering at him. Yeah, he was enjoying this. Bet his dick is hard. Jamie couldn’t really bring himself to care. He wanted to die.
    Apparently, torture by enema involved a lot of shit—he laughed mirthlessly at his own pun—and a comfy-looking foam pad for lying on that Evan covered with a towel warm from the heated rack. Tubes, a bag he filled with water and crap—Vaseline. Jamie almost bolted. The cramps, though—couldn’t.
    Pointing to the makeshift bed between the walk-in shower big enough for six Evan-sized guys and the toilet cubicle, Evan said, “Make yourself comfortable.”
    “ Do we really have to do this?”
    “ You need this, so yes.”
    “ I’m cold,” Jamie complained bitterly. “And you cheated.”
    Because the huge bathroom occupied its own time zone, it also had its own heating systems, and Evan turned them all on. Then he waited. Jamie slunk over to the padded bed and lay down, glaring at Evan as he hung the bag from a hook on the wall behind him. Yeah, he’d done this many times before. But to who? If Jamie lived through this, he was gonna ask about this mysterious, kinky, and oh-so-very-dirty boyfriend.
    “ Face the other way, Jamie.”
    Oh right. He only wants my ass. With a grimace, he rolled. Ashamed and feeling strangely vulnerable, Jamie buried his head in the crook of his arm and breathed shallowly, waiting for the burn of whatever it was Evan planned to shove up his backside. Could a person actually die of humiliation? And how much would this hurt?
    “… like that, pretty boy? Yeah, you like big things up your ass, don’tcha…”
    Jamie squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Fabric brushed his naked back as Evan knelt