Need by Todd Gregory Page B

wasn’t leaving until the next morning. His leg kept brushing against mine under the bar, and I could smell his desire for me—he also desired Jean-Paul but didn’t think the odds of a three-way were in his favor.
    Eventually, the three of us walked out of the bar. It had started raining again, and I shivered. Dauphine Street was filling with water, and rivers of it were cascading from roofs and balconies. The wind had also picked up, and it had gotten even grayer outside.
    Jean-Paul nodded to me, and I allowed Matt to kiss me. He tasted of vodka, lime, and tonic water. I could smell the alcohol his body was trying to expel through his pores. I put my arms around him and closed my eyes. I could hear his pounding heartbeat, and in the gloom the big blue vein in his neck almost seemed to glow. He gasped when I sank my teeth into it, and as his blood gushed into my mouth, I could hear his thoughts.
    Oh my God, that feels so good. How on earth did I get so lucky two sexy studs going back to my hotel room with me this young one my God he is so gorgeous and that ass I can’t wait to taste it put my finger inside of it and the older one, his arms and chest, I want him to fuck me. I bet he can put me through the headboard—
    And then I heard Jean-Paul’s voice inside my head: “Don’t take too much, my little one. This was just a test, for you to get used to it. Now it’s time to stop.”
    I pulled my mouth back from Matt’s neck, and in my head I saw myself biting my thumb, rubbing my blood over the wounds on his neck. I looked at Jean-Paul, who smiled back at me and nodded. I bit my thumb and rubbed my blood over the holes. Matt’s eyes were still closed, and he was swaying back and forth. I watched as the holes closed, leaving only what looked like two small hickeys.
    â€œGo back to your room and sleep,” Jean-Paul said softly, “and dream of a beautiful young man and a muscular older one joining you—and when you wake in the morning, you will take with you a beautiful memory of the three of us together.”
    Matt nodded and, as I watched in amazement, turned away from us and ran across the street in the pouring rain, running away from us toward Canal Street.
    â€œAnd now you’ve had your first taste,” Jean-Paul whispered into my ear, “and tomorrow we leave New Orleans for good. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.”
    I didn’t know what he meant by that, but at that point I would have done anything he told me to do. I simply nodded and returned with him to the house.
    Back in those days, when all Jean-Paul had to do was snap his fingers and I would leap, I thought, shaking my head. I started to cross the street but waited for a blue Honda to drive past.
    I climbed onto the porch and pressed my face against the glass of the window where I thought I’d seen something. I could clearly see the shapes of boxes and sawhorses through the gloom, but there was nothing moving, nothing else except the usual debris of a construction site abandoned for the night.
    It must have been just my imagination. Again.
    I took a deep breath and started walking toward Bourbon Street. Several blocks ahead of me, Orleans Street came to a dead end where it met Royal Street. On the other side of Royal was the iron fence enclosing the yard behind St. Louis Cathedral. The shadow of Christ’s statue loomed over the back of the building. It always gave me a chill whenever I saw it. His arms were spread, and there was something almost predatory about the shadow on the gray slate. Jared had once called the statue “drag queen Jesus,” which had made me laugh, and I remembered that every time I saw the shadow at night or walked past it in the daylight.
    That memory always made me smile. No one had ever been able to make me laugh as hard as Jared could.
    And look how you repaid him for everything he’s ever done for you.
    I swallowed and pushed that