The wave surges and then falls within me and then circles again and again and again until it relaxes back to a glassy pond. My body is boneless from the assault of pleasure.
When I come to, he’s almost on the brink. My eyes go wide because I need to see it as well. I need to see him come too.
But he drops his hand from my chin and turns around, his hand flying furiously.
He’s not going to let me see him come.
It feels like an insult, but I keep my distance.
Shortly after he turns around, he lurches forward with a hiss, groaning.
I see nothing else. Maybe he’s hiding something. He’d probably say it’s none of my business.
And besides, I’m now wrung out like a rag. Standing in the middle of this near-empty room. Half naked. With a creature. Who isn’t human.
It’s safe to say I’ve never done anything like this with anyone in my whole life.
After a few seconds, he’s breathing hard, and then he turns back to me, wiping his hands down the length of his washboard torso.
Nervously, I glance up at the ceiling. “Well, that was unexpected, huh?”
But he just shakes his head. “Oh fuck, Jules. What’s going to happen to us?”
Chapter 16
Ihaven’t visited the fish forum in days.
I used to do it almost out of compulsion, as a way to push down other feelings. As a distraction from the darkness in my life. The almost humdrum isolation that I’ve put myself in.
But now that I’ve been with Mack . . . after our . . . experience together.
Now, I can’t seem to think about anything else. I haven’t even changed the water in my tank. Usually, I do that about once a week. A cleansing ritual of sorts.
But right now, I don’t feel the need to be clean.
If anything, I yearn for a particular kind of filth.
Kate would be so proud.
Still, normal life calls, and I have a deadline; one of my articles is due to my boss. The multiverse again. I’m honestly getting sick of writing about it, but nevertheless, I continue to renew my contract. So I can’t fall back into the fantasy of our encounters, or I’ll never come up for air.
Maladaptive daydreaming is the psychological term. I looked it up. But my therapist never mentioned it.
However, instead of finishing my assignment, my mouse is drawn to the browser. I click once, and before I can stop myself, I’m opening the Freemont Aquariumaniacs Forum.
I scroll, scroll, scroll through the list of new posts.
How to tell if my fish likes me.
Is my fish lonely by himself?
I dreamed about sharks last night, and now I’m worried.
Interestingly enough, there’s no FishKiller1234 in sight. Maybe the mods finally banned his ass from the forum. Good thing he has that Facebook group for people to follow. Fucking asshole.
I keep scrolling, but nothing quite holds my interest the way chatting with Mack on this forum used to.
Of course, Mack has a way of disappearing on me out of nowhere. Like shutting down just when we’re on a precipice. He did it after we sent the pictures on the forum.
He did it after I saw him IRL for the first time. Although I get that, it was understandable.
But hell, he disappeared on me even after we orgasmed together. Maybe he didn’t physically disappear, but he was just . . . gone. His eyes blank.
Jules, what’s going to happen to us?
The messages on the post pop up and roll down the screen in real time. My eyes follow the movement as my mind wanders.
Mack really does believe something bad will happen if we spend time together.
He thinks he can hurt me somehow.
I tap my fingernails against the clear counter of my desk. There aren’t any coffee cups splayed out from the last few days. I’ve been spending too much time thinking about Mack.
And that’s why I’m compelled to message someone else.
The very concept of Mack is riddled with complications. And I think I know someone who claims to have answers.
I open his profile and type out his handle: AverageJoeGuy
