Chapter 9 #3
“I know, you already said that last night,” he cut in, irritated.
John tilted his head to the side, lips pursed, “Sorry.”
“Stop it.”
John raised his hands in defense and set his coffee mug down. “You’re right. Stopping.”
“I have a question…” Wyatt began.
“Shoot,” Dr. Donnelly answered, making him cringe and give an apologetic look. Wyatt narrowed his eyes, waiting for another stupid apology, but John shook his head. “I will resist the urge.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Good. Is talking allowed?”
“You mean, you want to talk to me, other than fuck me?” he asked, the tension in his shoulder easing.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said, grinning now.
John returned the smile with his own, dropping the back of his head into the headboard of the bed, looking possibly the most relaxed he had ever seen him. “Yeah, of course.”
His chest filled with an inexplicable warmth, and he licked his lower lip. “Kissing?”
John swallowed, “Yeah.”
“I wanna kiss you,” Wyatt admitted with a shallow breath.
John’s eyes darkened, “I wanna kiss you, too.”
He felt his cock stir and dropped his feet onto the floor, leaning forward. “Any other rules?”
John hesitated, clearing his throat. “I prefer hotels. Coming over to my place feels too…”
“Intimate.”
“Yeah.” John sighed. “And the obvious rule, no one can know about this. At least no one at work.”
“What about Samuels? He’s like us.” He said, referring to his sexuality.
“Yeah, well, he’s more of a stickler for the rules than I am about certain things.”
“I have a hard time believing that,” Wyatt countered.
“Samuels is more comfortable taking orders than I am.”
“I noticed you have a bit of an issue with authority.”
John snorted, “How could you tell?”
He knew it was a sarcastic statement and asked, “How come you don’t leave? Set up a practice somewhere?”
John reached for his coffee mug. “And what? Grow old and stale in some dungeon of my own making? No, thank you. I like my high-functioning depression, PTSD, and early-onset graying.”
He laughed, biting his lower lip. “Have I mentioned I like your gray?”
John let out a breath, scrubbing his beard, his voice oddly rough. “How old are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“27… this year.”
“Jesus.”
“How old are you?” Wyatt countered.
“47… this year.”
Wyatt whistled but continued to smile.
“Shut up,” John shot back.
“You ride like you're in your prime,” he drawled huskily. “Because you are. And I like riding you… a lot.”
John puffed out an exhale, once more blushing. “You’re going to kill me at this rate.”
“I don’t mind being rode either, just in case you need a break,” Wyatt said slyly, watching the blush turn bright red and his chest heave. Apparently, the good doctor was excited by the idea.
“This can’t happen more than once a week,” John declared abruptly, as though trying to squash the mood.
“Yeah, I get that. My wallet took a beating with this room.” Though he complained about the cost, he couldn’t imagine kissing, tasting, and tonguing John in anything less than expensive sheets and luxuriously large showers.
“I’m paying from here on out,” John said in a non-negotiable tone.
“I can manage.”
“I don’t care. My student loans are practically non-existent, yours aren’t. And I make more than you, so I’ll take care of this. Besides, this is my decision for hotels—not yours. You shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
Wyatt liked this side of John. It was the fiery, take-charge one who came out fairly often in the ED, especially when he could no longer stand back and watch, taking over because of his greater skill and experience.
“Anything else, Dr. Donnelly?” he teased.
John smiled, softening. “Not at the moment.”
“Give me your number,” Wyatt instructed, grabbing his phone off the charger.
John paused, and he arched his eyebrows. “You’re not allowed to stress about this,” he said forcefully. “I know how to keep a secret. I was a gay boy raised in a conservative household on a fucking horse ranch. Now, c’mon.”
John gave him his number, and he saved his contact name as "JD".
“Give me your phone,” he ordered. John gave him a reserved look, grabbed his backpack that was by the bed and unlocked his phone, tossing the hunk of metal at him.
John had his number, but no contact name associated with it. Wyatt saved his name as Sally with the cowboy emoji.
When he tossed back the phone, John frowned at the name.
“Mustang Sally. You said you like the blues.”
“That I did,” John drawled, impressed.
“So how about that ride?” Wyatt murmured.
“I’ve gotta be at work in a couple of hours. Don’t you need to go home?”
“Do you?”
John shook his head, “I always pack an extra pair of scrubs just in case I work a double.”
“Good habit, I’m stealing that.” Wyatt glanced at him, waiting. “So?”
John flushed, “Christ, I don’t know if I can…”
“I was talking about me,” Wyatt breathed, sliding his fingers over his pants. “I wanna feel you today, even if I can’t touch you.”
John sucked in a harsh breath, his voice raspy as he said, “Come here.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I think I wanna do it—right here,” he said, indicating the perfect armless, cushioned seat. Perfect for riding.
John got out of bed, his body relaxed and rested after a night of brutal releases. His shoulder was level with the other one, and his walk was tight. Wyatt smirked, licking his lower lip as John stood before him, naked, his cock already in the early stages of erection.
Dear God, this man was sexy with his tousled bed hair, sexy half-smile, and the crinkles around his eyes.
Wyatt quickly took a seat on the chair, grabbing Donnelly by the waist and taking him eagerly into his mouth again, tasting precum on his tongue and lapping it up.
John sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, guiding him up and over his erection.
Wyatt intentionally gagged and coated John’s dick with his saliva before drawing away and putting John in the seat.
John watched him with a hungry gaze as he stripped out of his boxers and black T-shirt, dick hardening under his gaze.
His heart skipped and he tried hard to ignore it as he straddled him, feeling his naked legs brush against John’s thighs, his butt cradled in his lap.
Wyatt was more muscular than John, but John was strong and took his weight easily, shifting under him. Wyatt leaned forward and kissed him.
John let out another soft moan into his mouth, sucking his tongue into his wet heat.
Their kiss went on and on, leaving both leaking and gloriously hard.
John pulled back and pushed his fingers into Wyatt’s mouth, wetting them.
Excitement spilled into his veins as Wyatt watched Dr. Donnelly take charge—his captain—his new lover.
John reached behind him, slipping those wet fingers over his hole, causing Wyatt to shudder and arch his hips in greeting.
“I’ve…got a confession,” John murmured.
Wyatt grated his teeth over his beard, “I’m listening.”
“I’ve never actually done this.”
He pulled back, surprised. “Done—what?”
“Been with a man,” John rushed out, cringing.
Wyatt leaned back, eyes widening, searching for the truth.
“That night we hooked up was my first time,” John confessed, surprising the hell out of him.
“Are you serious?”
“Very.”
Astounded, he glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
John tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raising. “I’m telling you now.”
Wyatt resisted the urge to sigh out his frustration and nodded patiently instead. “You still wanna do this?”
“Jesus fuck, yes.”
Relief eased the tension in Wyatt’s body as John bit sexily on his lower lip, slipping his finger inside him, and then another. Wyatt’s entire being lit up in flames, slowly sinking himself deeper into his hand, riding him.
“Fuck, Lawson…” John marveled, his eyes cutting across his body, clearly turned on by the display on his lap. Wyatt’s blood thickened, and so did his cock.
John slowly withdrew and took his cheeks in hand, guiding himself over his entrance.
John’s dick pushed through the outer ring and into him, edging in achingly slow, which Wyatt appreciated.
John’s cock was a bit of a sledgehammer, and it had been a while since he’d done this.
Wyatt clenched his jaw and lowered himself onto the impossibly hard cock, feeling his body meld and mold around him.
John’s head tilted back, panting. “You feel incredible.”
Wyatt leaned down and kissed him, feeling the scrape of soft beard and lips, and without waiting any longer, dropped himself into his lap, becoming fully speared by him. Both men groaned and cursed.
Wyatt lifted himself up and down, John moving in slow tandem rhythm with him. His legs didn’t feel the strain of the position; in fact, it reminded him of horse riding, and it felt natural. Everything with John felt natural—easy.
Stop, Wyatt.
Don’t think like that.
Not now.
Wyatt dropped down again, fully seating himself and shivering, his cock leaking messily between them, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. His feet pushed off the ground and he lifted, ass cheeks clenching, sucking him further in as he moved upward.
“Fuck,” John muttered. “You’re doing so good, Lawson,” he said with a hint of his Donnelly tone, causing Wyatt to fling his gaze onto his, see the glint of praise and… need. “I need you to pick up the pace.”
He gasped, pulse stuttering, and did as demanded. John’s hands went to his ass and they both rocked against one another. John shivered, groaning, “That’s it… just like that, Lawson. Keep going…”
Wyatt fucked himself on John’s dick, his own cock aching and throbbing, and yet, it didn’t matter that John wasn’t touching him; he was already so close and started thrusting down on him harder and harder.
“You ride me so fucking good,” John praised, sending electrical currents through his veins.
“Oh…fuck…” Wyatt groaned, addicted to anything this man would give him.
“Do you know how many times I’ve fucked my fist, thinking about what you did to me that night—about all the things I want you to do to me?” John rasped.
He trembled, his legs beginning to shake.
“That fuckin’ commercial…” he gutted out. “I envied the fucking horse…”
Wyatt sunk his hands into his beard, framing his face, needing more words. Needing more!
John seemed to understand and whispered, “I imagined this, too. Riding me—fucking me—using me for your pleasure.”
Wyatt moaned, wildly thrusting, hips undulating, and riding him just like he imagined—giving him that reality and creating a fantasy for himself.
John’s rapture was his. Watching him watch him was intoxicating.
Wyatt reached between his legs, finally granting himself the merciful relief of touch and palming his hard sex, stroking it upward using the precum as lube to fuck his fist.
“That’s it, cowboy,” John husked, panting and shivering beneath him, watching him stroke himself. “Fuck, yes…! God, look at you…”
Wyatt sucked in a breath, belly tightening with need and cock quivering. His orgasm was peaking, his body clenching around John, who let out a gasping sound, mixed with a long, drawn-out moan.
He sounded like pure fucking sex.
Wyatt grabbed the back of John’s neck, hanging on as he made one final push, and his cock burst with his seed, spewing hot, uncontrollable ribbons of cum onto John's chest.
John gasped and leaned forward, face buried into Wyatt’s chest, about to climax. But he refused to let him hide his face, his hand still around his neck and dragging him backward.
“I wanna see you…” Wyatt pleaded through panted breaths. “Cum for me, John…”
He shuddered and did, his lips parting and hips driving upwards, impaling Wyatt so deeply. He cursed, and his cock leaked a little more.
The sound of John’s orgasm ripped through him, vibrating him through his core and sending another heavenly blissful wave through him, cock spurting again. Wyatt held on tight, not realizing his body could do that—keep climaxing even after he thought he had finished.
“Fuck me, that was hot,” Wyatt panted, taking his mouth into his, kissing him thoroughly. John, breathing hard through his nose, returned the kiss, his body trembling.
He never thought sex could feel this good.
“I’m gonna need a nap or a double espresso to get me to work,” John grumbled, but smiled.
“You could just have a cup of hot motor oil from the break room. That’ll get your juices going,” Wyatt suggested teasingly.
“I need to buy us a new one,” John muttered. “Especially if you plan on killing me the night before.”
Wyatt laughed now, chest rumbling. He liked the feeling of John relaxing against him, holding him close. There was something so secure about it. John rested his temple against his chest as he caught his breath.
“Or the morning of…” Wyatt whispered, gently raking his fingers through his hair.
“That would be close to breaking a rule.” John kissed the base of his throat, his sexy beard brushing against his skin, affection sparkling in his blue eyes.
“Yeah, it would be.” Wyatt’s heart was practically beating out of his chest at the way John was looking at him.
Oh shit.
I think I just caught a feeling.