Not His Kiss to Take Read Online Free Page B

below—it burned really hot. His balls ached, his cock throbbed miserably, horrendously, and farther down, his ass burned…felt ripped inside…
    The sparkles flickered again.
    “ Jamie! Stay with me.”
    The white fizzled out, and the doctor’s sad eyes peered down into his. “They kicked the shit outta me,” he muttered.
    “ Yes. I know they did.”
    “ They…they called me a faggot and a cocksucker, and they kicked me. Punched me. Touched me…oh God, they grabbed me! Why’d they do that—hurt me?”
    The doctor leaned back on his heels and nodded. “They attacked you and hurt you because they’re assholes. But don’t worry about that right now, okay, angel? Right now I need to examine you. If you won’t let me do that, then I’m going to take you to the hospital myself, because I can’t leave you like this.”
    No fucking hospital! And no one is touching me ever again. “I’m g-going h-home.” Jamie’s ribs screamed in protest as he moved. You can do this—just ignore the stabbing and burning for a second…just a second. The pain will stop once you stand up again. Feeling unsteady and weak, he carefully rolled onto his hands and knees. The fire exploded, and a fireball shot straight up his spine. His head fell forward, barely missing the edge of a massive claw-foot bathtub. Get up! You gotta get away from here. You can do this…
    But he couldn’t.
    “ Jamie.” The doctor’s angelic tone disappeared on a wing and a prayer. The nasty, psych-ward-orderly voice that replaced it made his cold skin crawl. “Take your pick. I examine you right now and treat your injuries, or I take you to the hospital and they deal with you.”
    What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll take option three—my option. “Fuck you,” he groaned.
    Nasty orderly’s eyes turned frosty. “Hospital it is.”
    Jamie recognized that look. The “ don’t fuck with me, or else” look. Like the principal always used. Or Aunt Angelina. She’d been in the army. They’d made her mean. “No fucking hospital.”
    “ Then do what I tell you.”
    Arguing hurt too much and demanded energy he didn’t seem to have. The spreading fire crept up his body and into his throat and burned a hole there, charring his voice box. He couldn’t fight anymore. Too cold. And I’m so sleepy. I jus’ wanna sleep . Strange how heavy his head felt when he nodded in acquiescence.
    The orderly—he wasn’t really a doctor, the liar—tugged off his other shoe. Then his chilly wet socks. A strong arm gently slipped under his back and pulled him upright when he hadn’t even realized he’d lain down again. The hoodie fell away easily enough, but the shirt wouldn’t come off. Jamie simply couldn’t lift his arms high enough or endure the pain trying to get them there. A few seconds later and his favorite T-shirt gave way to the quick snip, snip of scissors. Shivers tore through him, and his teeth began to clack uncontrollably.
    You’re okay; it’ll be okay. Those familiar words of self-comfort became a silent chant, a habit he’d thought he’d left behind in Bremerton. And he actually believed himself until deft fingers snatched at the zipper tab on his jeans. No! Don’t hurt me anymore! The fire burned so fucking hot down there, molten, red, like a burner turned on high. They kicked me there…and that one guy grabbed me so hard—
    “ Like that, faggot? Bet you like it up the ass, don’t ya? Wanna feel something big up your ass? Yeah—fucking faggots, they all like getting reamed.”
    Oh God, the pain—the pain. “Don’t touch… pants . Don’t hurt me no more,” he moaned.
    “ I’ll fix it so you won’t hurt anymore, Jamie. Promise. But the pants have to come off. They’re filthy and wet, and I can’t see what’s wrong with you with them in the way.”
    “ Please…” he heard himself beg.
    “ Did someone assault you, Jamie? Sexually?”
    His breath hitched as a memory flared. A warm, wet trickle escaped