"Pack your stuff," Wilson ordered, handing me a towel. He was waiting when I got back to my room. "One of three things is going to happen tonight. can go back to the loft and stay with me for a couple weeks, maybe more. 2. I can come and live with you at your place for a while. 3. I take you to the hospital and tell the admitting doctor what I just saw you do," he threatened. I might be a great liar but shrinks are trained to see through even the best bullshit. It'd be exactly like when I was in Mayfield. I could be stuck in a padded room for months. It's not like there's a cure for what I have, I thought. They could keep me locked up for the rest of my life.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," I attempted to explain, but I knew there was no sense in arguing. It's impossible to pacify Wilson when he gets into one of these moods. "I'm not going. You can't make me." It wasn't like he'd locked me in a castle. The room had a door, a bathroom, and, if necessary, I could always dive back into the pool. Jimmy started advancing on me. He tackled me, and dropped us both onto the mattress. "Get off of me! What do you think you're gonna accomplish here?"

"I'm trying to keep you from killing yourself!" Wilson straddled my hips, securing my hands to the headboard with his tie and belt.

"Okay...fine. Whatever. I'll stay at the loft tonight." I knew I was in for the conversation Jimmy had been trying to force me into all week and he wasn't taking any more chances. I couldn't walk away this time; I had totalk to him. At least I thought the plan was to make me talk…until he unbuttoned my shirt and took my pants off.

"No good enough," he told me in a serious tone, and then slapped my ass. "I am not going to sit back and watch you self-destruct. Are you ready to leave with me or do I," he paused, wiping his eyes. "Or do I need to prove I'm more fun than you think?

"What makes you think I'll go where you want? Just let me up already. Face it, I'm smarter than you are and no plan of yours will ever get me to listen to anything you have to say, let alone convince me to go along with something you think I should or shouldn't do."

"But now I've got options. I could call 9-1-1 and get you arrested before institutionalizing you. Or I could just gag you, hang the do not disturb sign on the door, and leave you like this for a day or two" "Or," he feathered a trail of kisses from my chest to my pelvis. "You can come back to the loft, and let me keep an eye on you for a while."

"I don't need anyone to keep an eye on," I started to say but Wilson's cock shut me up. He slipped it inside of me, and took my dick in his hands.

Shit, I thought as he played my body like a concert pianist on a Steinway. He's just as good as Bonnie said.

"Wilson? Why are you…what the Hell?" I was stating to think I had lost my mind again. The situation was way so surreal to actually be happening.

"If you don't like it, I could stop," he offered. Threatened.

"No," I cried out, more enthusiastically than I'd intended. Now he knew I was hooked. Addicted to him. To this. It was that good. "How'd you know this would work?"

"Well...I didn't. I thought you would really enjoy it or you would kill me as soon as I let you up. Either way, I'd be able to relax and worry a little less." I tried to open my mouth. "You are not fine!"

"I don't care how worried you are or even if you cry, or keep me tied up for a month. I don't want to talk about—ooh wow! Do that again? Yes! Yes! Oh Jimmy!—me and Cuddy." Wilson's thrusts became faster, more erratic, but he was working his ass off so I'd cum first. He succeeded.

After I caught my breath, I told him, "I'm not going to any stupid plays, romantic comedies, or musicals with you. Now, or ever."

"And I'm keeping Sarah so don't "accidentally" leave the window open. Oh, and you have to do your own laundry."

"So, except for the sex, nothing's really gonna changed between us?" I watched as he packed up my clothes and stuff. Jimmy was smiling.

"If you wanted to sleep in the same bed, and use the bathtub…on your own or together, I wouldn't hate that. But otherwise—why mess up a friendship that's lasted longer than every relationship you and I've had put together? He had a good point, not that I'd say so out loud. "Ready to go home?"

I took one last look around the hotel room, shrugged and said "we should sleep in and go to Mickey's tomorrow."

"Sounds great," Wilson said as we walked towards the car together.