Chapter Eleven

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Darcy wasn't there. He had tried every other location he had seen her at, desperate to put an end to this and hold her in his arms, before trying the apartment he knew she had been staying in with her new man. But she wasn't there!

He clenched the gun in his hand and swept her things off of her dresser, so angry at her it was unreal. She should have known he was coming to save her, should have stayed somewhere where he could find her but she had left.

He struck out with the butt of the gun and shattered her mirror. He just wanted to hold his Darcy in his arms.

He dug in the dresser with his free hand, finding the pair of red lace panties she had worn when she put on her show for him and lifted them up to his nose; inhaling the scent of her.

He was so hard inside of his jeans that it hurt and he unbuttoned them, shoving her panties inside of his boxers so it was like her touching him. He imagined her hand around him and he groaned, shoving his pants and boxers down to his thighs so that all that was left were Darcy's panties.

It only took a few tugs, the rasp of lace against his aching length adding to his fantasy, before he came with shout. White, milky liquid coated his hand and her panties and he wanted Darcy there so she could lick everything clean.

"Where'd you go, baby? Where'd you go?" he whispered, yanking up his pants and shoving the ruined panties into his pocket.

He had to find her. He just had to. He was going crazy without her. He loved her, and he knew she loved him back. She just couldn't accept his offer of a date because of the hospital's rules, that's why he had started leaving her presents in the first place. No one could get angry if he remained anonymous and only Darcy knew who he was.

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