Chapter 20 James
Faith is the only one I’ve ever tolerated calling me Jamie. I don’t like it. Never have and thought I never would, but seeing the word form and roll from Cory’s sassy mouth, almost had me flopping face first into the floor. Doc was one thing. But him. Saying Jamie?
Yeah. That’s hot.
Throughout the six years it’s taken me to complete my training, I’ve seen and worked on dozens of attractive, near-naked men. None of them have prompted the visceral reaction Cory Malkovich doing nothing but sitting on the edge of my table, legs innocently swinging, has.
Hard as stone and struggling to breathe, all I can think of is an episode of Friends. Phoebe, a massage therapist, loses control of her unyielding desire, bends down and bites the plump ass of her client. Never in my life have I identified more with a straight woman.
I feel you, Pheebs. I feel you.
“Is there a problem, Doc?”
Yes. You. Inhaling through puffed cheeks, I raise my gaze stopping just short of meeting my off-limits patients’.
“Nope, not at all. Just giving that ice a little time to reduce any swelling, and the heating to warm the room up.” Liar.
“Does your movement feel any freer?” Grimacing, Cory gives his shoulder a slight forward roll.
“It does, a little yeah.”
“Good. Well, let’s get that shirt off and have a look.” The words are out there, but my feet aren’t listening.
After way too long, Cory gives a huffed laugh. “I’m no medical expert, but I think you need to come closer to do that.”
“I do. Yeah. It’s just.”
“You don’t trust yourself either?” There’s two ways to go here. One, be the dismissive jerk that comes so easily. Or two, be the person Cory has an uncanny ability to draw out of me.
“Little bit, yeah.”
Caught off-guard by my confession, Cory’s brows raise and his teeth sink into that bottom lip I keep picturing smeared in last night’s white pasta sauce. “Well, I trust you, remember? So we’re all good.”
Nodding, I release another ridiculously large breath and edge forward.
Honestly you’d think there was a crocodile waiting for me, not a young athlete I’m treating.
“Do you think you’re able to remove your jersey?
” His eyes say no but he moves his hands to the hem and attempts to lift, managing to raise it only slightly before wincing.
Placing my hand on his wrist, I hold him still.
“I can help lift it over your head, but you’d still have to raise your arm. Or—”
“Or you could tear it off with your teeth. Just rip into me like you did that bread last night.” Rolling my eyes, I tilt my head to the side.
“Or I could cut it.” Mel, the Bears equipment manager won’t be happy, but there’s no alternative.
After searching high and low all I can find is blunt scissors used mainly for cutting dressing.
They’re useless against the thicker knit fabric of the jersey, and with an exasperated grunt, I give up on them maybe an inch or two in.
Perhaps sensing what’s about to happen, Cory watches me silently, knuckles white as he grips the edge of the bed.
Praying for strength, I grit my teeth, fist the fabric on either side of the cut, and tear.
“Jamie, oh God.”
“Please don’t say, Jamie. Not now. Not like that.”
His upper body, still beading in sweat, smelling of man, is so fucking perfect I’m forced to close my eyes before I do something stupid like suck those pretty pink nipples.
Blind, I run my hands up, over his abs. Feel every rise and fall of his ribs.
Trace the lines of his collarbone and then slip my fingers beneath the fabric and slide it from his shoulders.
I don’t let go of him though, I just stand there, head low in shame.
I’m hard. So fucking hard I think I may faint.
“Look at me, Jamie. Please, open your eyes.” Instead of scolding him as I should, I do as he asked, blinking away my blurred vision until I’m staring at Cory’s crotch.
He’s hard too.
“It feels really good when you touch me, Jamie. Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” I choke out, voice thick with desire, “but not because you asked me too, but because this is my job. Touching you is my job.”
“And you’re so good at it. It feels better already.”
Christ, this is awful. Just so bloody horrible.
“Good. That’s good.” I force my lips to say. “Can, uh. Can you show me where it hurts?”
“Here,” he says, immediately snatching my hand.
For a split second I panic, thinking I know exactly what I’m going to be cupping.
But as he has so often, Cory takes me by surprise, placing my flattened palm to his chest. Right over his heart, then laying his hand atop it.
“Whenever you’re near me my heart races. Can you feel it?”
“I can,” I mumble, because I can. I feel the heavy, rapid beat in every one of my fingertips. “Mine is the same.”
“Show me.” Before I can reply, Cory tightens his hold on me and shifts our joined hands to my right pectoral. “Wow. It’s hammering.” He smirks. “Tell me, Jamie. Is that pulsing organ the only one I affect?”
“You know you’re incredibly corny for someone your age.”
“Horny, too, but that’s probably to be expected with a man like you wedged between my thighs.”
“I’m not—” I pause, look down and shit, I am. In fact, in this position, if Cory wanted, he would wrap his legs around my waist and frot against me until our hard cocks explode. “I need to check your shoulder.” It’s a reminder for me more than him.
“Fuck my shoulder.”
In one swift move, my hand is disregarded, my shirt is clenched and Cory is pulling me down onto his lips. “Jamie.”
“Oh, God.” I cup my hand around the back of his neck, tightening my hold until I feel my nails dig into his flesh. His fingers are caressing down over my shirt, rucking it up and fiddling with my belt.
“I want to suck you off, Jamie. Please, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I should say no. I should step back, walk out of here and never come back. But the whoosh of leather sliding through cotton loops, and the metal clang of my belt buckle hitting the floor knocks any good sense from my mind.
All I can think of is him. All I need is release.
“Fuck, Cubby,” I groan, lips ghosting over his while he’s sliding off the bed and pushing me back against the wall. “The door. I need to lock … lock the door.”
“Stay there.” Releasing his hold, Cory strides across the room, turns the lock and stalks toward me, eyes roaming. before he kisses me one more time, filthy and raw. I never want it to end and whine when he pulls away.
Then drops to his knees. My pants and boxers follow and fuck.
It’s been so long, so damn long since I’ve had a man’s mouth on me.
So long since I’ve had a tongue working me over, that I almost blow the second he licks the pre-cum from my tip.
As warm, wetness wraps around me, I weave my hands into his hair and grip.
“Yes,” he moans. “Fuck, yes.”
His eyes never leave my face as he deep-throats me, cheeks hollowing out ‘til my dick hits the back of his throat, where he contracts again and again.
“Jesus Christ.” Inhaling through my nose, I let my head fall back against the wall and thrust, my movements agonizingly slow in respect of my size.
Cory, it appears, cares not for such things as consideration and pace.
The hand he had resting on my thigh shifts to cup my ass and pull me in.
Hard. It’s all the permission I need. Every ounce of doubt and stress and tension see my hips pistoning.
There’s nothing pretty or romantic here. It’s just a sloppy and wet mess of want. A cut and dry race to the end. “I need this,” I huff. “I need to fill your pretty mouth.”
Gagging, blinking away the tears clinging to his lashes, Cory hums and groans, sucking so hard my kidneys may shoot into his mouth before my cum does.
Still watching me, he groans again and palms his cock.
The thought of him wanking as he gets me off is all it takes.
I tug on his hair in warning but all he does is takes me deeper, constricting more and I spill inside him, the sounds of him swallowing and slurping extending my release.
I’ve never come so much so fast. Or wanted to do it again so quickly.
I watch Cory lick me from tip to base, catching every last drop of cum before letting my softening cock fall from his lips, pressing his face between my thighs and balls and inhaling. “You smell so fucking amazing, James.”
“Everything about you is amazing.” I blush at my sappiness, but I mean it. Cory Malkovich is nothing like I expected but everything I need.