I tried to start every shift calm and unhurried; I found it set the pace for the entire night. Even if a crisis occurred in the next twelve hours, I'd carry that initial composure with me.

But on this particular evening in early November, I was running late through no fault of my own, and my tardiness prompted me to rush. Swearing under my breath, I broke into a sprint to reach the exterior door of the in-law suite. Path lights fended off the darkness and illuminated my way.

Freya, the nurse who covered the day shift, opened the door before I could let myself inside. I slipped past her into the living room. Though I'd already called her earlier to explain, I again apologized. "I'm so sorry I'm late," I said in a low voice. Eunice's room was just down the short hallway to our right. "I gave myself twenty extra minutes to get here, but there was a roadblock a few miles from my apartment—"

"Arlo, it's not even ten after seven." Freya gave my arm a friendly pat. At forty, she was more than five years my senior, and I admired her easygoing manner. "You're fine."

"And Drew knows the reason I'm late?" I asked in an even lower voice. Freya had assured me she would fill him in on the situation if he stopped by.

"Yeah, I saw him a few minutes ago," she said as we headed toward Eunice's room to complete the handoff report. "He was totally cool about it."

Less than a month ago, Drew had hired me to care for Eunice, his terminally ill mother. During our initial meeting, he said I'd been highly recommended as a private nurse, though he didn't mention which former client referred me. I was well aware that showing up late didn't make the best impression.

Once Freya left, I took over caring for Eunice. Some nights she was restless, requiring close monitoring of her medication to ensure she wasn't in severe pain. On other nights, she seemed almost placid. This evening, she was sleeping soundly. Every moment of rest was a mercy. Not only had the elderly woman suffered a debilitating stroke earlier in the year, but she'd also recently been diagnosed with cancer.

Freya had been working in this house as a private nurse for months now. Initially, Drew had employed two other nurses, but they now worked on a PRN basis, so Freya and I were the only ones here around the clock. Though the twelve-hour shifts were tiring, Drew paid us an astonishing amount of money for our constant availability.

The night of my very first shift, Freya gave me only a vague hint as to why Drew had such a small nursing staff. The man was clearly wealthy enough to afford more.

"Our boss is..." Freya had looked around as if someone might overhear, even though we were alone in the in-law suite's kitchen. "Drew's selective about who he allows into his inner circle," the nurse finally finished. "So your main job, aside from taking care of Eunice, is to keep your head down and not snoop around. You might notice people coming and going at all hours, or maybe Drew is out for most of the night. It's not your business."

She'd told me this as calmly as she would inform me of a patient's vital signs. It was her seemingly untroubled demeanor that made me put all concerns about my employer out of my mind.

At least at first.

Tonight, Eunice remained asleep even as the time for my first break approached. I slipped out of the room and down the hall, on my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

I stopped short when I saw Drew in the living room. He often entered this wing of the house to see how Eunice was doing, and to visit her in her more lucid moments. We all knew the end wasn't far off. But he'd never lingered in the suite once he'd gotten an update from Freya or me, or after he'd spent time at Eunice's bedside.

Now he sat on the couch with a drink in his hand while a single lamp cast its glow upon him.

As we greeted each other, I tried to read his mood. Freya had insisted he wasn't upset about me being late, yet I couldn't help but apologize to him as well. 

Drew held up the hand not holding a rocks glass. Offering an easy smile, he said, "Arlo, it's okay. Freya let me know why you were delayed. The reason was beyond your control."

My shoulders lost some of their rigidity. "I really appreciate your understanding."

I sneaked a glance at his outfit. He'd rid himself of the suit coat and tie, and his collar was loosened. No business dinner tonight, then. While I followed Freya's advice not to snoop, I couldn't remain entirely clueless about what went on in the rest of the house, and I knew my boss frequently invited guests to join him for a late meal.

I guessed Drew was around fifty, but his dark, wavy hair had very little gray. He was lean and fit without being overly muscular. This massive house had a home gym, so working out was convenient for him. More than once, he'd offered me the use of that gym when my shift ended at seven each morning. I'd never taken him up on it. Despite his efforts to be gracious, I didn't feel totally at ease here.

Drew took a sip of his drink, then said, "Freya told me it's been one of Mother's better days."

"One of her better nights, too. She's gotten a lot of rest." Though I already knew my scrubs were pristine and wrinkle-free, I couldn't resist looking down to reassure myself that my uniform was in order. 

"Arlo..."

The way Drew said my name made me snap my head up.

"There's something I'd like to discuss," he told me.

"Of course." I started toward a nearby chair.

"Not here." 

Again, he smiled even as it sounded like he was issuing an order.

Drew must have discerned my consternation, for he nodded toward the monitor on a nearby table. It allowed us to see and hear Eunice in her room. "Bring that with you," he said.

I followed him out of the wing and into the main part of the house. I noticed the lights were dimmed here as well. We walked in shadows, past the helical staircase that led to the second floor, and then down a hallway lined with closed doors.

Finally, Drew and I reached his office. It was the room where he'd interviewed me. Though I sat in the same wingback chair, my boss chose a nearby settee rather than his usual place behind his desk. I set the monitor on a table to my right.

Drew studied me for an uncomfortable amount of time. Our eyes met, and I quickly looked away, only to glance at him again. He smiled while lifting the glass to his lips.

It was a relief when he finally spoke. 

"I trust you'll tell me anything... pertinent about my mother's condition."

"Absolutely," I said. "And I keep Freya informed as well."

He nodded, as if in agreement. The gesture lulled me into a sense of security.

A false one, it turned out.

"I thought so." Drew set aside his drink and then leaned forward, clasping his hands before him. "Because that's what I emphasized when I hired you. The need for transparency and open communication."

"That's right." 

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. Not quite a full smile now. "Freya recently told me that when Mother grows restless, she tends to... ramble about the past. Her words are mostly nonsensical, but sometimes she's coherent enough to be understood."

Shit. 

"Uh..." My stare darted around the room in hopes that I would spot a means of escape. "Freya hasn't included that information in any of her handoff reports. And when I'm caring for Eunice, she speaks very little. She expresses when she's in pain, or—"

Drew shook his head. Just once. And that was all it took to silence me.

"You do a wonderful job tending to Mother, so I'm willing to overlook many things, Arlo, but dishonesty isn't one of them." His expression hardened until he appeared nothing like the employer I knew. "Now, let's try this again. Has she disclosed anything of a sensitive nature to you?"

I wiped a hand over my face. My fingers came back damp with sweat. "She's not herself," I quietly insisted. "The medication..."

Drew raised an eyebrow. I understood the unspoken question: Do you really want to lie to me again?

I became very still. I forced myself to meet his stare. "You can trust that I'll never repeat anything Eunice might have revealed in a moment of delirium."

"What did she reveal?" The emphasis he placed on each word let me know he was out of patience.

I tried to shrug, but my shoulders were stiff with tension. "She... she said some things about your late father, and his business. Which is now your business. I didn't pay her any mind. Patients say all kinds of things in their final days." I realized I was speaking much too fast, so I snapped my mouth shut.

As Drew searched my face, another lengthy silence fell between us. I refused to squirm in my chair or grovel for the sake of my safety. I merely sat there, awaiting his decision.

"I need to know you're trustworthy." His tone was coaxing.

"I assure you I am," I said. "I'll keep Eunice's confidence. And yours."

His gaze moved from my face to my chest, and then to my hands clasped in my lap.

"But you weren't forthcoming before," he reminded me. "I had to pry the truth out of you. So why should I believe your assurances now? I know I have Freya's loyalty. How can I be certain I have yours?"

My thoughts returned to that first discussion I had with Freya, when she told me to keep my head down. All along, she'd known the potential minefield I would be navigating by working here.

It was strange, the way Drew's words served as a subtle rebuke while his expression contradicted everything he said. His eyes were almost... playful.

I then understood how I could prove my loyalty. Maybe I'd always sensed it in the interactions between us. I'd certainly fantasized about it while jerking off.

I cast a guilty glance at the monitor. Eunice was still sleeping; I could hear her deep, even breaths. 

Then I rose from the chair and approached her son.

He lifted his eyebrows as I advanced. My steps were slow but purposeful. I wanted to make him wait.

When I finally stood before him, he uncrossed his legs. I recognized that movement for the invitation it was.

Holding his stare, I sank to my knees. Beneath me was an area rug that probably cost more than my monthly rent. I should have been terrified. Anyone with a strong sense of self-preservation would have been shaking. But I'd now slipped into my natural element. I could never resist inching closer to the cliff's edge for a better look at the abyss. A little farther, and farther still, until I poised on the precipice, scrambling to maintain my footing.

I was bold in placing my hand on Drew's thigh. "I can make promises," I said, "or I can show you just how loyal I am."

In response, he gave the slightest nod. His legs spread wider, enabling me to slip between them.

With steady fingers, I unbuckled his belt. Once I'd pulled it from its loops, I caressed the fine leather, then placed it on the cushion next to him, within easy reach. I knew he could grab it up in an instant. He could use that belt to whip me, or he could wrap it around my neck. It was a weapon I offered him, though I was almost sure he wouldn't employ it.

I set about unbuttoning and unzipping Drew's pants with a brisk efficiency. It was only when I freed his cock from the briefs he wore that my face flushed warmer, and my own dick stiffened. 

He let out a contented sigh at that first intimate touch, while I regarded him with undisguised appreciation. In my grasp, he was hot, still flaccid. As I stroked his length, I had to admire the girth he offered even when soft.

Again, our eyes met. Though Drew's smile was faint, I recognized the triumph in it. This was indeed what he'd wanted from me.

Leaning forward, I was shameless as I buried my face in his crotch. He must have heard my eager inhalation. I liked that he didn't shave but only trimmed his pubic hair. Many of my past lovers preferred to be completely smooth, so I'd fallen into the habit of opting for the same.

My lips and tongue explored every inch of him, from his sac to his tip. When I licked and teased his prominent meatus, I was rewarded with a moan. My efforts soon had him hardening to a full erection.

And how glorious it was! I planted kisses along a clearly visible vein in his shaft, then traced it with my tongue. Though my teasing made him restless, I refused to be rushed. Instead, I stared up into his face while getting him nice and wet. His eyes, normally a deep blue, had darkened until I could barely distinguish the irises from the pupils.

I had him hard and twitching in my hand, beneath my lips, before he broke and seized hold of my hair. Without resistance, I let him push me down so I was forced to take him in my mouth. 

His groan was louder now, and his hips gave a shallow thrust. I suckled his glans, moaning with my own arousal, while I fondled his heavy balls. Like Pavlov's dog, I began salivating, and I used my spit for lubrication once my lips moved farther down Drew's cock.

"Ah, that's good!" he whispered. No longer rough, he loosened his grip on my hair and let me set the pace. I took him deep in a fairly smooth glide, then withdrew to try again. I felt a heady rush of victory as my lips reached the root of his dick and his tip pushed past my tonsils to lodge in my throat. The ache fed my longing. I used my free hand to stroke my own erection.

After Drew realized I could easily control my gag reflex, he let me pull off for a breath, only to guide me back down. Even when his entire length disappeared between my lips, he held me firm. My eyes flooded with tears, and I made an unflattering sound, like I was trying to expel his dick from my airway.

"So hungry for it, aren't you?" His question had a taunting edge, yet I proved him right by readily offering up my mouth for a fucking.

He showed mercy by allowing me another lungful of air. Spit dribbled down my chin; I'd left his erection coated with it. This time, when he entered my mouth, he began bucking his hips. I became a wet hole, used solely for his pleasure.

In such a state, with me reduced to an object he toyed with and then brutally handled, I lost track of time. I might have given him head for hours or less than twenty minutes. It was blissful, surrendering control to another. I had no agency, nor did I desire any.

Toward the end, when Drew's cock appeared almost angry in front of my face, he tilted my head back. The way his features twisted with need made him look a little angry, too. 

"I'm gonna come in your mouth," he warned.

"Please." My voice was hoarse. My throat felt scraped raw.

Again I was brought down, and again I accepted his dick. He pumped hard and fast, driving his tip into my gullet. More tears leaked down my face; snot poured from my nose. With someone else, I might have been embarrassed, but I understood my boss wanted me just like this.

Even as my lungs screamed for air, I didn't struggle. Drew grunted and moaned, as if fighting for his orgasm. I felt him pulse while buried within me.

Then he let go, so deep inside that I didn't taste a drop until his hold on me slackened and I could pull off. Hot semen flooded over my tongue. Some leaked past my lips and down my chin before I could swallow.

Sitting back on my haunches, I panted like a sick animal. My hair, a lighter brown than Drew's, was a mess when I ran my fingers through the strands.

My employer leaned back against the settee, the picture of satisfaction. His smile morphed from one of orgasmic elation to a softer contentment. His cock took a similar journey, its hardness fading before my eyes.

Though neither of us spoke, Drew noticed my disheveled state and grabbed several tissues from the box on a table by the settee. When he offered them to me, I wiped my face and blew my nose. He set about putting away his cock and straightening his clothes. The belt remained untouched beside him. 

Climbing to my feet, I placed a hand on his knee for balance. I still felt a bit lightheaded despite my breathing having returned to almost normal. My erection strained against my uniform. Drew's stare lingered on it for a few seconds.

Then he said, "I've kept you from your break long enough. Tomorrow, late morning, you'll be at your apartment?"

I licked at my swollen lips. "Yes, I'll be home then."

"Good." Drew reached for his drink, now watered down by melted ice. He took a sip, making it clear it was my turn to wait. "I'll stop by before noon. I think we have more to discuss."

My dick actually jumped at that, for I was certain I knew just what kind of conversation Drew wanted to have. Yet I only nodded, then moved to retrieve the monitor from the table where I'd left it.

The screen showed me that Eunice was now half-awake, stirring free of the pain medication's sedating effects.

A fresh wave of guilt dampened my arousal before extinguishing it altogether. I practically ran from the room, anxious to return to my work.

Though Eunice's son paid me, my duty here was to my patient. And tonight I'd failed her, if only for a few moments. 

A last look over my shoulder at Drew, still lounging on the settee, let me know he shared none of my remorse.

*****

When Freya showed up a few minutes before the start of her shift the following morning, I felt a flash of anger licking at my insides. She could have done more to warn me. At the very least, she could have let me know she'd told Drew about Eunice's half-coherent ramblings.

I wanted to nurture my fresh grudge even as I realized a warning wouldn't have mattered. During my shift last night, I did what she'd cautioned me against. I'd snooped around Eunice's room, and the rest of the suite. I discovered the entire place was under surveillance. 

I never had a chance of hiding anything from Drew.

As Freya and I now went through completing the handoff report, I held her stare. I was daring her to look away as I said, "Eunice rested for several hours yesterday evening, but as the night went on, she became agitated. She began talking of... strange things." 

Freya's eyes widened, just a little. She was a smart woman and instantly figured out my meaning.

"Mostly nonsense," I continued with a cold smile. "I couldn't understand much. When she complained of pain, I adjusted her medication. If she grows restless again today, you might want to..." I paused and leaned a little closer. "Inform Drew about it."

I left without so much as a goodbye to her. Though I knew it was stupid to feel betrayed, I'd considered us friends. Still, I'd never held any illusions about us staying in touch once our employment here ended.

It took some time to reach my apartment, as morning traffic was terrible. Once there, I showered and then got busy preparing for Drew's visit. Hours later, my bed had clean sheets, and my ass was filled with a sizable plug. I'd skipped breakfast, not even allowing myself a cup of coffee.

He knocked at my door just after eleven. Busy man that he was, I knew better than to keep him waiting. Never mind the fact that my dick was already half-hard from anticipation alone.

I answered quickly, wearing just my briefs. My neighbors were mostly single professionals, at work during the day, so I had little concern about being spotted.

Drew had on one of his fine suits. As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a smile. I felt his stare move over my skin like warm fingertips.

"Seems I'm overdressed," he said, looking down at himself.

"I can fix that." 

When I extended my hand, Drew stepped into the living room. He granted me only a moment to close and lock the door.

Then he grabbed me. The day's cold clung to his palms, making me shiver. Pressed firmly to him, I had no choice but to lift my head.

He lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was sure, without a hint of hesitation. I encouraged him by parting my lips. 

Again and again, his tongue grazed mine before retreating. I actually whined in frustration. Finally, I wove my fingers through his hair and kissed him hard, as if I were the aggressor here.

Drew's hands wandered down my sides and along my lower back before settling on my ass. He groaned upon feeling the plug's base.

Breaking the kiss, I managed a single word: "Bedroom."

My apartment was small, with fewer than a thousand square feet, so Drew certainly didn't need directions. Instead, he practically hauled me off my feet. I was surprised by his strength, for I wasn't small in stature. During the short journey, I wrapped my arms and legs around him. My mouth worked eagerly at his neck.

He stopped upon crossing the room's threshold. Stretching out my foot, I managed to kick the door closed behind us. Once we were shut inside the small space, we had only a lamp, turned to its lowest setting, for light.

"It's quite dark in here." Drew looked around, his face curious.

"Blackout curtains," I explained. "They help me sleep during the day."

He focused his attention fully on me. "It could be any hour. Outside those windows, it could be anywhere."

I didn't know if he found the situation exhilarating or unsettling. "And in here," I said, "we can be anyone."

Drew smiled then. Our mouths melded, tongues dancing while he carried me to the bed. He was unexpectedly gentle in setting me down upon the plush comforter. 

Lying back on the pillow, I lifted my hips so he could tug down my underwear. My cock was now fully hard, and I made a point to spread my legs wide and give him a better look at my prepared hole. 

What he saw had him quickly stripping free of his clothes. The tie and suit coat were thrown over a nearby chair. He nimbly unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled the undershirt over his head. Plenty of hair covered his broad chest and tapered into a line leading down his stomach toward his groin. I couldn't wait to follow that trail with my lips.

In moments, he was completely naked and stroking off. I reacquainted myself with the delicious sight of his erection. When he joined me on the bed, I felt no apprehension. This could have been a hookup playing out. It could have been the conclusion to a date with an older man. It was true, what I'd said: Drew and I could be anyone.

Without warning, he seized me by the hips and flipped me onto my stomach. Only then did I remember the risk that accompanied any encounter with my boss.

I ended up with a pillow under me, so my ass was elevated. Drew was in no rush while spreading my cheeks and inspecting the plug. He gave my buttocks a firm squeeze.

"I'm glad you knew what to expect today," he said. As if I could have had any doubt.

When Drew grasped the plug's base, I immediately relaxed my muscles. He was careful in removing the toy. The moment it popped free, I felt my hole gaping. 

I heard him moving behind me, getting comfortable. The feel of his tongue at my opening made me cry out.

He kissed and licked me there. With his face buried between my cheeks, he probed me with his insistent tongue. 

"Ah, fuck!" I clawed at the comforter. Unable to resist, I started thrusting backwards, trying to take even more of him inside. 

"You little slut," he teased.

Lifting my head, I allowed him to see my profile. "Would you prefer I play hard to get? Is that what gets you off?"

"You know better than that, Arlo." He gave my right buttock a nip that bordered on painful. "I've never forced you to do a thing. I want you willing."

"But..." I craned my neck even farther, looking back at him. "There's such a power imbalance here, with you being my boss. Of course, I also can't forget the fact that you'd need to make just one phone call, and I'd never leave this apartment."

Instead of offending him, my remark made him laugh. Which was my exact intention.

"Oh, is that right? You're offering your ass to the big bad man in order to ensure your safety?" As he spoke, two of his fingers, wet with spit, slid into my hole.

"That's right," I said through a groan. "The lube..." I nodded toward the small bottle I'd left on the nightstand.

"What an enthusiastic prisoner you are." 

As Drew slicked up his cock and worked the lube into my ass, I wondered if he would use a condom. I'd purposely neglected to provide one of those.

I started to roll over, but his hand on my back stopped me.

And when he lowered his weight onto my body, pinning me to the bed, I realized he understood my need even better than I did.

Again, I lifted my head and angled my face in his direction. He kissed my mouth and the side of my neck. The muscles in my belly quivered as he suckled my earlobe.

I felt his tip at my entrance. He pushed in a little, then paused. Another push, and his cockhead was inside. The invasion sent a jolt through me; my toes curled while Drew worked inch after inch into my hole.

There it was, that painful stretch I craved. My ass throbbed like a wound, yet I smiled and begged for more.

Finally, he bottomed out with a groan. I sensed that for all my talk, he'd done his best to remain careful. I took several deep breaths as I adjusted to the deep penetration. I caught the scent of his sweat, fresh and clean.

Drew was thicker than many of my past fucks; I felt dilated to my very limit. Still, I choked out, "You'd best fuck me hard to... ensure my silence."

"That's how you want it?" 

I readily nodded in reply.

Drew didn't ask twice. Once he began thrusting, his rhythm literally fucked the breath out of me. The pressure on my prostate felt relentless.

"Oh my God," I kept saying. I didn't care that I sounded like a fool. Beneath this man, in this position, I had no ability to participate in the act. He lifted himself up, only to slam down into me again. The bed squeaked in sync with his frenzied movements.

And this was what I wanted. To relinquish all control. When I stretched my arms above me, he grabbed my wrists in a bruising grip. When I cried out, he cupped a hand over my mouth.

The fuck hurt like hell. And I was harder than I'd ever been. 

"Shh." His lips were close to my ear. Despite his constant rutting, he planted a sweet kiss on the side of my face. 

My muscles tensed. From the sound of Drew's moan, I knew he felt my ass clenching all around him. He fucked me through my full-body orgasm, even as my vision swam and I screamed into his palm.

He didn't stop fucking me even after I went limp. I lay there, reeling from the climax. I felt disembodied yet weighed down. "Come inside me," I pleaded. 

His thrusts grew erratic; he almost withdrew before sliding back inside me to the hilt. I was so sensitive that I easily felt him twitch within my walls. 

Drew came with a roar, sounding almost outraged to have surrendered to the climax. Afterward, he collapsed upon me so I was covered in his warmth. I felt his lips on my hair.

Neither of us said anything as he finally rolled off of me to lie on his back. At his side, I closed my eyes and listened to my breaths, fast at first, then slower once I relaxed. I'd turned up the heat in the apartment, so I wasn't cold even while stretched out naked.

I expected my boss to offer some excuse as to why he needed to leave. I waited for him to climb from the bed and start getting dressed.

But he stayed right where he was. Glancing his way, I found him staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sure you wonder," he said, "about my relationship with my mother."

I had, actually. Plenty of times. Though Drew spared no expense in caring for Eunice, there was a strange formality between them even during her lucid moments. 

Yet I said, "I understand that feelings toward family can be... complicated. Especially when we're facing a loss."

The corner of Drew's mouth ticked upward. "You sound like a shrink."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I guess I do."

He surprised me by reaching for my hand. When our fingers were intertwined, he placed both our hands on his chest. 

"Mother had love for only one person in her life," Drew said. "And that was my father. I mean, she worshiped him." He paused, and I noticed his jaw moving a little, as though he were grinding his teeth. "I don't think she ever wanted children," he went on. "But my father was desperate for a son who would follow in his footsteps. So..." Drew shrugged. "She gave him one."

I lay there for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. I was tempted to say that of course his mother loved him. I could have claimed I'd seen the affection in her eyes when he sat at her bedside and read aloud from her favorite novel, Ethan Frome.

But I didn't say any of that, because I knew the man would instantly recognize a lie.

Rolling onto my side, I pressed my free hand against his cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

He turned his face to me then. "You got married in your mid-twenties. Your husband filed for divorce less than a year later. Why?"

I bristled at his words. When I pulled away, he didn't try to maintain his grasp on me. Nor did he avert his eyes in a display of regret for digging into my past.

Of course he'd run a thorough background check on me before I was hired to care for his mother. He had to know who he was allowing into his house. 

Into his secrets.

I was the one to look away in an attempt to hide my shame. The warmth in the room seemed to ebb.

I knew refusing to talk about my past wasn't an option. So I stalled for time. "Is the reason for my divorce important?"

"It is to me," Drew said.

Despite myself, I inched closer to him, and he pulled me into an embrace. With my fingertips, I traced indecipherable patterns on his chest as I spoke. "I guess you could say I had a penchant for self-sabotage. I didn't know how to love, not then." I took a deep breath and let it out in an unsteady rush. "I was so relieved to get out of my parents' house and start college. I no longer had to hide who I really was. But once I was on my own..." Swallowing hard, I shook my head. "I took a lot of risks. I put myself in some dangerous situations. It's a miracle I got out of them unscathed. When I started nursing school, I told myself all that was behind me. And I met the love of my life."

Though the memories had to be handled carefully, like sharpened blades, I managed to smile. "He and I took it slow and did everything right," I said. "We lived together before I proposed. I'd never been so happy."

"Then why did it end?" Drew asked quietly.

"Because I cheated." My smile turned bitter. "Because I started feeling that contentment was a prison. Peace and calm made me... claustrophobic. And I broke free the only way I knew how."

The honesty of what I'd revealed left a sour taste in my mouth. I could smell that sourness in my own sweat. I wouldn't have blamed Drew if he'd told me I got just what I deserved. I half-expected him to berate me, the way I so often berated myself.

What I didn't expect was the tender kiss he planted on my forehead. I didn't expect to feel his lips against my skin as he said, "I'm sorry, too."

*****

He didn't leave until early afternoon. Once I was alone in my apartment, I was far too keyed up to sleep. I lay in bed, with the blackout curtains providing near-total darkness, and I thought of all Drew and I had said and done. I couldn't stop thinking about it.

After another shower and several cups of coffee, I drove out to Drew's house to start my shift. As Freya completed the handoff report, I sensed her searching my face, but I made a point to avoid her eyes. 

"I've let Drew know it won't be long now," Freya spoke in a whisper. "Eunice's blood pressure has dropped, and her heart rate is slowing. She's not as responsive as she was just yesterday."

I merely nodded as I studied our patient, who lay sleeping before us. She appeared so small in that bed. 

Something in my expression made Freya pat my shoulder. "Best to stay close."

I knew she meant nothing by the remark. Still, I shrugged off her touch and retorted, "I always do."

Except for when my boss ordered me to his office so I could prove my loyalty.

After Freya left, I sat with Eunice in her room. More coffee kept me alert and focused on her at all times. I stayed vigilant for signs of discomfort, and I read aloud from Ethan Frome in case she could hear me. 

I did everything I could to lessen my guilt over having left her alone the night before.

Drew entered the suite at half past ten. I heard his approach; by now, I recognized the tread of his walk.

When he appeared in the bedroom doorway, our eyes met. My boss had that raw, open look of a man close to tears, yet he didn't cry upon seeing his mother. 

"She's been resting since I got here," I told him quietly, and he nodded before sitting in a chair near mine. 

I watched him stretch out his legs and cross them at the ankles. With his hands clasped over his belly, he glanced at the book I held. A faint smile graced his lips as he said, "I think I have that novel memorized by now."

I couldn't resist staring at his mouth. The mouth that had kissed me just hours ago. 

"I read it when I was in school," I said, "but I'd forgotten a lot of it."

"Keep reading," Drew said.

So I did. I read until my mouth was dry and my throat ached. Yet I paid little attention to the words I spoke. I was too busy thinking of the man who sat just feet away. My voice shook a little when I dared to remember how hard he'd made me come.

Eunice began to stir, and I sat up in my chair, ready to tend to my patient. With her eyes still closed, she moaned and turned her head, as though listening for a sound no one else could hear.

She called out. Not for me or Freya. Not for Drew. But for her husband who had died a decade ago.

Drew's expression grew stricken. On my feet, I rushed to calm Eunice as best I could. It took just a few minutes for her to settle.

Yet Drew remained rigid, with his hands clasped together in one large fist.

"Arlo, I'd like some time alone with my mother," he said.

I hesitated, not trusting what I saw in his face. "But she might need me—"

Drew fixed his stare on me. It was terrifying in its coldness. "Get out."

I lingered at Eunice's bedside for a moment longer, then ducked my head and left the room. I told myself I'd be just down the hall; I'd check on her soon.

In the living room, I sat on the couch and held my coffee mug with both hands. I willed myself to stop trembling. Though I listened for any suspicious sounds, I heard only the usual ambient noise of the in-law suite.

A little after midnight, I rose on stiff legs and returned to Eunice's room. I found that Drew had pulled his chair to her bedside. His arms were folded on the side rail to make a pillow for his head.

He didn't look up when I entered. He didn't even move. As I tended to Eunice, I noticed that her hand lay just a few inches from Drew. How I wished she could find the strength to reach for him.

But the woman remained as still as her son.

*****

For the rest of my shift, I gave Drew the privacy he demanded. By the time Freya arrived at seven the following morning, I was both exhausted and wired from too much caffeine. She and I completed the handoff report, with our employer sitting nearby. Every so often, I glanced his way, trying to gauge his state of mind, but he was unreadable. Freya's presence served to harden him. The vulnerability I'd witnessed the night before might as well have been a dream.

On my way home, I binged on a fast-food breakfast but skipped the coffee. Once I reached my apartment, I mustered up just enough energy to strip out of my clothes before climbing into bed. The blackout curtains made my room as dark as a cave. When sleep tugged at the corners of my mind, I realized my age was catching up to me. I used to be able to stay up for 24-hour stretches with little trouble.

I slept through my phone's chime notifying me of a new message. I didn't wake until my shrill alarm sounded at four that afternoon.

It was then that I read the text from Freya: Eunice passed away just after eleven this morning.

I tried to call Drew but got his voicemail. While I realized he would be busy making arrangements for his mother's funeral, I still wanted him to know how sorry I was. My message was brief. I fumbled for the right words.

I wondered if Drew felt a sense of regret, or if he was past that now. Maybe he felt only relief that Eunice was no longer suffering.

The following day, I heard from him via text. He shared details about the upcoming funeral and expressed his hope that I would be there, as I'd meant a great deal to his mother.

Of course, I went. I recognized only Drew and Freya among the mourners, so I did my best to stay in the background. When I finally approached him to offer my condolences, he pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you for everything," he whispered.

I hated the way my body responded to his touch. It seemed disrespectful somehow, even dirty. But sadness did nothing to dim my attraction toward the man.

With my temporary employment now finished, I figured I'd never see him again. I already had another job lined up, this one offering a shorter commute.

Not long after the funeral, Drew again knocked at my apartment door. He'd given no indication that he was stopping by, so I couldn't hide my surprise at seeing him.

"Drew, please come in!" As I opened the door wider, I self-consciously ran a hand through my tousled hair. I'd been lounging on the couch, watching some trashy reality show, and I hurried to turn the television off.

"Sorry to show up uninvited," Drew said from right behind me.

I spun around to face him, almost losing my balance. He placed a steadying hand on my arm. 

"Easy." His smile looked sly. "I won't hurt you."

I stood up a little straighter. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. "I know you won't," I replied.

He lifted his eyebrows. "Good. Then let's go to bed."

In the lamplight of my room, we stripped each other naked. I sensed his weariness when he slipped beneath the covers. After joining him, I seized the opportunity to kiss my way down that alluring line of hair along his belly.

I took his cock in my hands, and in my mouth. I inhaled his scent, stronger now. He rested a palm on my head, and I heard his shuddering breath. I knew he was fighting back tears.

So I comforted him in the only way I could. Straddling his hips, I reached to guide him inside me. I hadn't prepared for this; the pain made me suck in air through clenched teeth.

Yet I relaxed enough to take him inch by inch. The friction of fucking without lube chafed at first. That familiar burn intensified before subsiding into a dull ache.

Drew slid his hands along my thighs. Our eyes locked, and I smiled down at him.

"My God, you're gorgeous," he said. 

I remained hard while being penetrated. My dick swayed and bounced with my rhythm, as if beckoning Drew to touch it. I moaned at the feel of his fingers sliding over my tip. When he began stroking me, I bit back a cry.

His face had that same look of raw vulnerability I'd seen only once before. It felt like a privilege to witness it now. I wondered if he ever showed it to anyone else.

I ended up leaning back, with my hands braced against his legs. Our fucking grew frantic, as though a clock were ticking down right beside us. As though the minutes were being swallowed up by a void we couldn't fend off.

"Come," Drew begged, his hand rough at my cock.

Even after I'd obeyed and left thick globs and streaks of semen on his chest, I kept riding him. My shallow breaths provided a soundtrack for his groans.

Moments later, he flooded my insides. Though I didn't feel the spurts of cum, I sensed his dick pulsing within me. His body tensed under mine.

I lay upon him, mindless of the mess. We'd take a shower later. Right now, I was eager for a kiss, and he readily returned it.

"You don't have to stop working for me," he said. "I could find a role for you in my business."

I shook my head and smiled. "I'm a nurse, not... whatever you need."

"You don't have to be a nurse." He lifted a hand to caress my cheek. "You could try something new."

In my younger days, I might have been tempted.

"I chose this job to help others," I said quietly, "but in doing so, I'm saving myself."

The hopefulness in Drew's eyes gave way to understanding. "Then I'd never want to lead you from that path."