Here’s chapter 48 of the new book, Dr. Clay, I’ve been writing since NaNoWriMo 2022. Enjoy reading. Let me know your thoughts in the comment section below.
Clay couldn’t believe what he saw when he entered this eccentric man’s cave house. He thought he had already lived in an expansive room enough to fit a town. Valon had even bigger. Probably more than two hundred square meters in size. It felt like he was in a different world for a second.
Dark academia and Gothic themes heaved through as far as his eyes could see. Yet, the tapestries draping across the room had a Moroccan-Bohemian feel. Unlike his empty penthouse, Valon’s private space looked more like an art museum than an Airbnb.
Exposed cave walls surrounded the whole living space. It had a sizable fireplace and an expansive patio space with tables and chairs suitable for six people. With a textured island counter and a nice countertop. He had a pantry filled with spices and a cupboard with cups, glasses, and plates.
He stood closer to the walls and pressed his fingers, feeling the tingling sensation in his skin. His eyes wandered, appreciating the walnut shelves filled with horse sculptures and paintings covered in an array hanging over him.
His senses returned when he heard Valon approaching behind him.
“Is that why you’re here? To prove you’ve done something great? For what?” Valon sputtered.
“It isn’t for what but for whom,” Clay replied.
“Thanks for reminding me how terrible a person I am, Clay.”
“Why would I do such a stupid thing if I don’t think you’re worthy of it? I lost everything for you. I lost Liz. I lost my family for you. Wouldn’t that be enough for you? To prove to you and believe how much I love you?”
Valon drew his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He pressed his lips as he flicked his head down, planting both hands on his waist. “You’re done with your job, and you’ve done so well with being my muse. But that’s it. It’s over.”
“It’s too late,” Clay replied.
Valon looked at him. “What are you—”
“Liz and I agreed to call the wedding off before we left the villa. And I bet, if you check the news right now, I’m on the headlines,” Clay interrupted and noticed how Valon’s face had changed from disinterested to worried, revealing his big, round, brown eyes he admired, “The whole country knows about what happened. So, there’s no turning back now.”
Valon grabbed his phone to check whether Clay was telling him the truth. But he continued shaking his head when he scrolled the news on the screen. He was taken aback by the magnitude of this situation the more he scrolled down and read the number of articles online. He couldn’t believe how much this issue became the country’s biggest shock, knowing everybody online knew about what Clay had done.
Dr. Elizondo: The Country’s Infamous Young, Runaway Groom
An Elizondo Runs Away, Calls Off the Biggest Wedding of this Century
Elizondo-Gutierrez Wedding: The Country’s Highly Anticipated Event Canceled
“This isn’t true, is it?” Valon asked. At the back of his mind, he asked himself questions and reeled possible events if everybody knew he was the country’s infamous mistress. He cursed.
Clay nodded. “What you see there, images and texts about me and how I ran away, is true.”
“Why did you have to create this mess?” Valon let out a loud exasperated sigh. “How about Liz? Is she okay?” He muzzled with both hands, covering the loud despair from his mouth. When he saw Clay nodding, he looked away. The news didn’t sink well with him. He clucked as he walked a few meters away ahead of him before he suddenly stopped and turned in Clay’s direction.
He looked more agitated. He wanted to scream but couldn’t. Before he could reach out to him and ease his urge to comfort him, he got distracted when he heard his stomach roar. “Haven’t you eaten anything yet?”
Clay shook his head and looked away. “No. Not yet.”
Valon cursed while his face softened. He shook his head in disbelief. As much as he wanted to lash out to ease himself, he couldn’t stop feeling bad for this man. Though Clay looked self-sufficient and confident from the outside, he realized he needed somebody who could take good care of him. It didn’t have to be him. But he could. He’d love to.
“I can’t believe this.” He expelled a loud sigh. “Fine,” he sputtered as he turned around.
“You’ll cook for me?” Clay asked, flashing a big smile that reached his ears.
Valon nodded while heading to his kitchen.
To fuck. Or not to fuck. Valon thought while watching Clay tilting forward in his chair, opening his mouth, and putting his lips around the spoon, taking the food whole. He was restless—pumped, itchy, and distracted. All he could think about was burying the hardest part of himself deep inside his body. He wanted him now.
Hazy images of Clay had him closing his eyes. He pictured him spreading his legs and saw himself opening them with his hands. Nudging them apart with his head. Kissing a path down to where he desperately wanted to be.
When he opened his eyes, he swallowed. His skin flushed, turning peach.
Valon’s nostrils flared as he bit his lower lip as Clay bit down. When some of the rice grain escaped his mouth, he hissed. “I want to lick that off,” he said coldly as he rose from his seat. He reached forward and grabbed his chin. Then, he lifted his napkin.
Clay put his hand on his. “You said lick. So, use your mouth.”
A low sound from deep inside escaped Valon’s chest. He leaned toward him and tilted his head.
Clay caught his lips opened, and his tongue came out. He closed his eyes when he felt his wet, soft, warm flesh stroke his skin. When he felt Valon pulling away, he slowly opened his eyes and saw him staring back at him.
Damn. Those eyes. Friendly but penetrating. Welcoming but mysterious. Loving but dominating. He thought if sex were food, he would have been morbidly obese.
Then, there was silence between them. It felt like the Lord had passed by and had given His blessing. Whatever played in their minds that moment had led to an undeniable sense of awkwardness.
If this was the kind of love Valon could offer him, Clay thought he liked it. It wasn’t dull. Valon had more than what people see on the surface. To think about it, he was the exact opposite of how he appeared to be. What’s inside of this man? Who’s the real Valon De Lara?
That was what he was looking forward to seeing, discovering the truths underneath his big smiles and friendly eyes, his friendly persona. He must have gone crazy, feeling desperate to know his own version of truths and experience his darkest innuendos.
Despite the peril, he loved the thrill. He loved the feeling of exposing layers of this man wherever this could head. It was as if he was betting against himself—whether this was his life’s purpose. At the same time, he had fallen in love with this new sense of adventure he had once sought. Regardless of what he would discover, he was kind of prepared for it. Anyway, after what he had done, being with him was the only fix he needed.
That thought danced with silence until they finished their meals.
After cleaning up, Valon moved his attention to him. “Come with me.”
“Where to?” he asked.
Valon held out his hand. “To my basement.”
Then, he took his hand and walked with him downstairs.
Author’s Note:
Thank you so much for spending time reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote this part three months ago. This chapter, in particular, reminded me of those times when I sat before my desk, seemingly prepared to type in words, but I struggled to keep it up.
It took an external motivation to get it through, and, at that time, the NaNoWriMo event was upcoming. At that time, I thought, “This could be a great opportunity to try and give this a shot one more time. You’d done an excellent job with ‘The Rival,’ so you could do it, Mecyll.”
You know, it’s easier said than done because writing a chapter with a clear intent to finish it requires more than just a skill. Since I started writing fiction, I realized how much this work demands my ability to be naked and the guarantees to answer whether I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared to face my fears, conscious or unconscious.
So, being able to write this down meant I managed despite the countless times dancing around with depression and enjoying the roller coaster rides my anxiety provided me.
This is why I don’t know how to thank you for your support, regardless of the scale or contribution size, from sharing my work with others or buying my books. It doesn’t matter because, for me, every small act you show is appreciated.
Again, thank you, and have a great day!
If you like to support my writing life, here’s what you can do:
- Get a copy of “The Rival” Uncensored Gay Romance Novel.
- Check out my upcoming book, “Non-Native Speakers Only.”
- Find more writing tips on my website (i.e., content writing, freelance writing, copywriting, self-publishing, novel writing, and many more!)
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