After Dark

Chapter 7

“Again,” I say to Jessa as I sit next to her on the folding bench I brought with me today; it’s larger and allows me to sit closer to her as she plays. I rub my hand over my cock. I don’t think there will ever be a time that I don’t get aroused while hearing her play; watching her extraordinary fingers slide over each ivory surface. I see her eyes glance down at my hand and I know she is nervous that I am going to touch her again; or make her touch me. The distraction causes her to hit the high F and G at the same time, absolutely ruining her melody.

“Focus! Again,” I command gently and her eyes shoot back to her sheet music.

She is off to a good start on her new piece. I’ve asked her to really challenge herself and I know she will shine, but she seems to have lost a bit of her determination since coming here.

I can’t blame her. I haven’t been around as much as I had originally planned to be. Even when I am here, my thoughts are often consumed by Bodhi. It’s been a few days since our kiss and I’ve been debating on whether or not to go back to his apartment and confront him. I know that he said he couldn’t, but his actions while we were lip-locked told me a completely different story; one that I am not going to give up on until more of it is written.

I stand up with a loud, frustrated groan as my cock twitches at the thought of how his knee rubbed up against my balls that night. The sound of Jessa’s melody ends as I turn away from the bench and start pacing.

“I’m sorry,” I hear her whimper from behind me.

“What?” I turn and ask her. “Oh. No, Jessa, it’s not you. You’re playing beautifully.”

I sit back down on the bench and take her hands in mine. I can feel her tense beneath my touch and I begin to massage her fingers to help her relax.

“I was thinking about Bodhi—he’s the man I was talking about the other night. I went to his apartment and watched him for a few days; just like I watched you. Like you, he pulled me in more and more each time I saw him. He discovered me in the alley across from his building and I thought he was going to be mad at me. I’m not used to making contact with those I wish to take. Not until the time is right. But with him, it’s different. I don’t want to take him, but I do want to claim him as my own.”

I look down at our hands, still caressing her fingers.

“He wasn’t angry, at least not at first. Actually, we kissed. I know that he was into it. I could tell as he pushed my legs apart with his knee to get closer to me; as he cupped my cheeks in his magnificent hands. Then, abruptly, he stopped it and practically ran away. I’m not sure why.”

I pause for a moment.

“Do you know why he would have run like that?”

I looked into her eyes, thinking I was going to see pity there; that she might feel sad for me. That she might offer some insight. But there was nothing. Her face was devoid of any emotion. It made me angry and that doesn’t happen very often.

I’m a lover and not a fighter, after all. When that side of me does come out, it’s like someone else is taking over and I have no power over him.

My eyes narrow as I feel him beginning to take over.

“Do you have any idea why he may have reacted that way?”

My grip on her hands tightens and I link my fingers with hers, making her breathing increase.

“Nothing?” I ask.

“I—I’m not sure. Maybe he was scared?” she cries out as fear flashes in her eyes.

I begin to twist her hands until her look of fear turns into a wince of pain.

“Oh, does that hurt?”

“Yes,” she cries.

“Well, it hurts me when you act like you don’t care about me. When you act like I haven’t been here, trying to help you get better; to be the best pianist that you can be.”

With that, I force her fingers backward, causing them to bend the wrong way. I push harder until I hear some of them crack as the bones under her perfect porcelain skin break. She screams out in pain as I let go and grab onto her throat, pushing her off of the bench and onto the dirty floor beneath it. It knocks the wind out of her, and her hands fly up, hit

ting the ground next to her head, causing them more pain. She lays there, crying, struggling to get a breath as I land on top of her.

“I have been nothing but nurturing and accommodating since you’ve gotten here!” I shout in her face as I lean over her.

“Perhaps I’ve been too nice!”

I wrap my hands around her neck and begin to squeeze. She fails horribly at loosening my grip. I am not sure how many of her bones I broke, but she surely won’t be able to use the majority of her fingers for a while.