into the gentle mockery in Max’s eyes, he felt like he’d just signed a contract in blood.
“So, you’re in for a penny, in for a pound, eh, Doc?” whispered Max. Licking his top lip, he winked, then rose to his feet, adjusting his cap to face forward again. He pointed to Crane’s open fly. “Plenty more of that, I promise.”
“You’re in a very promising mood,” Crane said, grimacing as he tucked himself away and zipped up. He felt dirty.
“I told you. I like you. And I’d like to show you something tonight.”
“On TV?” Crane asked. He stood, a touch shaky. A man had given him a blowjob. And not just any man, one that was possibly criminally insane. And it was the best blowjob he’d ever had.
“No TV. In person.” Max smiled up at Crane. The dirty, guilty feeling was already fading fast, replaced by a pathetic eagerness over seeing Max again so soon.
What had Max said? In for a penny, in for a pound. His traitorous mind was already pointing out that Mary had another graveyard shift at the hospital that night. She’d never know he was gone as long as he was back before she was.
“What is it?” he asked, wary.
“Well, that’d spoil it, n’est-ce pas?” Max grinned. “I’ll text you an address later and you’ll meet me there.”
Without waiting for an answer, Max spun on his heel and waved back over his head as he opened the door. “See ya, Doc. You’ve given me plenty to swallow. I’ll think about it at length later tonight and see what comes of it…” he said cheerfully, loud enough that anyone in the vicinity would hear.
Red-faced, Crane stood in the middle of the small office, knowing he was in over his head but wondering how long he’d suffer having to wait for Max to text him.
4
In for a Penny, in for a Pound
Monday, July 18th
Crane locked his bike to the parking meter and glanced around, paranoia hollowing out his stomach and making his pulse jitter and soar. It was only past ten, but Westmount felt deserted. A lone jogger, huffing out his breath in time to his strides, passed Crane on the opposite side of the street and was gone in a moment. After thumbing his phone awake, he checked Google Maps to orient himself. Two streets up, then a left, then through a wooded area along what looked like a walking path.
What am I doing? he thought, his mouth dry and hands clammy. What the fuck am I doing? But that didn’t stop him from walking with brisk steps along the mansion-lined street. He heard a small dog yap as he passed by a huge ivy-covered brick monstrosity and cringed, hoping he wasn’t drawing attention to himself.
Why? I’m just out for a late-night walk. Yeah, just strolling along. Nothing to see here. His phone startled him when it vibrated in his pocket, and he fumbled it out, nearly dropping it in his haste.
It was only a message from Mary: Don’t forget to start the dishwasher before bed.
He tapped out a reply to the affirmative, frowned, and then added: Hitting the sack now. See you tomorrow :) Have a good shift xoxo
Crane slid his phone back into his pocket and saw that he was nearing the wooded park on the map. Right then, the nearest streetlamp flickered off, plunging him into darkness. Startled, he tripped on the low sidewalk and stumbled a few steps, his arms wheeling to find his balance. With a hum, the light clicked back on, illuminating the narrow path. The empty path. He laughed a little breathlessly. For a split second, he’d pictured Max suddenly appearing ahead of him like a demon in a horror movie, somehow responsible for the streetlamp’s malfunction.
Shaking his head at being so easily spooked, Crane walked down the path, gravel crunching under his sneakers. Soon he came to a fork and stopped, looking around. It was nearly pitch-black because of the tree cover, and he could barely make out that there was a bench off to one side. He slapped at a mosquito.
This is it. His stomach was in knots from miserable excitement. He was early.
A moment later, Crane heard someone walking up the path towards him, and he tensed, squinting into the dark, trying to tell from the footfalls whether it was Max or not. The figure emerged from between the trees, dressed head to toe in black.
“Hey, Doc,” said Max. Crane saw a flash of white and assumed he