Chapter 6: Eleven O'Clock

Dr. Vandermeer came at eleven exactly, and the first thing he did was cross the bedroom and check the window latch.

He tested it twice with his thumb, and then he drew the curtain across and stood with his back to the glass.

"Done?" Eli said from the bed.

"Done."

"You've been in here before."

"Yes."

"You know where everything is."

"Yes."

Eli lay on top of the covers in the lamplight with his hands folded behind his head.

He had showered and put on nothing at all, and the rain beat on the fire escape outside.

For six months he had lain in this bed afraid of the dark, and tonight he was not afraid of it.

He did not trust that.

"I can't sleep," he said. "You may have noticed."

"I have noticed."

"So you can help. That's what you're for."

"Tell me what you need."

"Take off your jacket."

The doctor took it off and laid it over the chair.

"The tie."

It slid out of his collar.

"Now come here and kneel. There." Eli pointed at the floor beside the bed. "Hands behind your back."

Dr. Vandermeer knelt on the rag rug.

He laced his fingers behind him without being told twice, and his face came level with Eli's hip.

From here, Eli thought, the man looked like a painting of someone praying.

He felt his own cock stir against his thigh, and the grey eyes went to it at once and stayed.

"You've seen this a lot," Eli said. "Through a window."

"Yes."

"Tonight you can use your mouth."

The doctor drew a slow breath.

"Only your mouth," said Eli. "Nothing else on me until I say."

"Yes."

"And you look at me. The whole time."

Dr. Vandermeer leaned in.

He did not rush.

He put his lips against the crease of Eli's hip first, dry and warm, and left them there for a long breath.

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