After I send it, I pull her picture back up and study it for far too long. It’s not until I hear another car coming down the gravel driveway that I realize my next appointment is in three minutes.
I stand quickly and refill my water glass, readying myself for another patient but knowing I’ll be thinking of the sad girl with gray eyes the entire time.
Present
The hot spike of arousal wakes me from a vivid dream. My hands grip the edges of the bathroom vanity and I groan, shuddering as my release pulses onto the counter. I pant as hot jets of cum splash over Francesca’s sink, hanging my head as one hand squeezes my rock-hard cock.
“Holy shit,” I hiss, involuntarily thrusting and spilling more cum all over my hand.
It takes me a minute to come to completely, and when I do, I realize the bathroom door is wide open.
“Fuck,” I mutter, grabbing the nearest towel and placing it over my still-hard cock as I close and lock the door.
The light of dawn is casting enough light into the bathroom that I can see the dark shadows underneath my eyes. I clean myself up before wiping the sink down, my hands shaking.
The medication I’m on is supposed to help, and most of the time, it does. However, being in a new environment—as well as chronic sleep deprivation—can make the symptoms worse. I’m not at home and I was up until nearly three in the morning, trying to exhaust myself so thoroughly that my body wouldn’t physically be able to walk around and fuck anything with a hole. Apparently, I was wrong.
Better the sink than my assistant.
At least, not on the first night.
After I take a quick shower and get ready for the day, I pull on a new suit. It’s barely past six in the morning, but I need to get out of this hotel room.
The temptation is too great, and I hardly trust myself around her. The masochist in me is regretting even putting myself in this situation.
Therewereother rooms available—I just booked them out.
I needed her to be here with me. I needed to see her in the flesh.
As I quietly exit the suite and make my way downstairs for coffee, I think about the first time I met Francesca over video. From what I gathered following our first interview, her friend had been looking for jobs for her that paid well and my listing came up on a popular job search site. Of course I did my due diligence afterward and looked her up online—everything from her social media to a complete background and medical check.
What started as an innocent curiosity turned into something so much more.
Being this obsessed with someone isn’t normal. You don’t need a doctorate like me to know that.
I know it shows a lack of boundaries, a shaky grasp on reality, and sociopathic tendencies—something I’ve always feared I had.
But I’d been waiting for this moment for two years, and I wasn’t about to waste it.
I wanted to study her, to figure out what made her tick. But also… to figure out why I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the day her picture popped up in my email.
After a walk through the city, I walk back into the hotel, taking a moment to calm my breathing as I type my journal into my phone. It’s something my therapist recommended years ago, and now I have hundreds of thousands of words about my day—usually having to do with the woman sleeping upstairs.
I promised myself I would only use this opportunity to get to know her. But why does it suddenly feel impossible to stay away? Why was I tossing and turning all night, thinking about how she was sleeping in the next room? I feel deranged, and I’m almost certain I’m going to fuck this all up.
The worst part is, I don’t care if I do.
She’s here now, and she’s not going anywhere.
I’d lay the trap, spin the web, and wait for her to walk into my lair.
If I am the devil, then she is an angel—and I’m going to corrupt her.
And if hell is my home, I’ll very happily drag her to the depths of the inferno, all for one taste.
March 5th
Finally, after all this time, she’s right here.
