Chapter 4
John
John’s heart was ticking so fast he wondered if he was having a heart attack.
Because this was wrong, so fucking wrong, and he couldn’t stop it. He felt like he was swan diving out of a plane without a parachute. Lawson was brushing his gloriously hard cock against him, and all he could think was… more.
Please, fucking please, more.
But they had to stop. He couldn’t let this happen. John was supposed to be the responsible one, not Lawson. He was supposed to steer this ship and make smarter decisions than this.
Lawson was off limits.
He shouldn’t be touching him, he shouldn’t know what the imprint of his cock felt like against the straining of his own, and—fuck, he felt so Goddamned good that his vision blurred.
This is a heart attack, John.
You’re dying.
Lawson’s hot breath warmed his lips, and everything in his body told him to take—take what was being so easily offered. Not only was it offered, but Lawson wanted to take care of him. Jesus Christ, the mere thought had him shivering.
Take it, you stubborn old bastard.
The elevator slid open, and the resounding ding alerted him that they had reached his floor. He stilled, hating himself. He wasn’t sure if he was a coward or a fool. A coward for wanting to run, or a fool for wanting to take.
He pushed Lawson away, raking his fingers through his hair.
Unable to speak because of the achy desire that was pulsing through every part of his body, he practically stumbled out of the elevator, and once more he felt the younger man chase after him.
His heart, still thumping, began to stutter.
Lawson had demonstrated tremendous tenacity in the ED, especially after he had failed or made a mistake.
It was as if he were a man possessed to redeem himself.
He knew this about him, and knew he would pursue John to the end of the world if he had to.
Fuck. I’m so fucked.
He strode down the hallway, managing to stay upright despite the throbbing cock-stand that pushed against his slacks and painfully dug into the zipper.
“Dr. Donnelly,” Lawson persisted, right on his heels.
With a trembling hand, John dug out his room key, pressed it on the keypad, and the door clicked open. All he saw was a dark, empty room, and his chest burned. He felt the swoosh of the edge, that empty place, that void of nothingness, and he stilled.
Another dark night alone.
I can’t…
Swallowing hard, he turned to see Lawson, who jerked back at his abrupt turn.
They stared at one another, both waiting for the other to move or run.
Lawson looked so fucking… bright. His skin still seemed to glow with the warmth of sunshine from weeks ago, and his gaze leveled his own as an equal, not his resident.
“This is it, Lawson. End of the line,” John said as firmly as he could muster, knowing perfectly well that he was a damned liar.
Lawson, so observant, so damned good at reading him, narrowed his pretty pale blue eyes a mere fraction before he tilted his head. “You want me to go?”
No. Fuck no.
John’s jaw clenched.
“Tell me that you don’t want me and I will,” Lawson breathed, standing to his full height, taking up the space of the doorway as alarm slid down John’s back.
Lawson was much bigger than he had realized. He wasn’t as tall as himself, but he was broader in the shoulders and had incredibly muscular arms that he’d seen more than once easily lift or restrain patients.
John closed his eyes, feeling the resistance fall away brick by brick, weakening his resolve, and they both knew it.
Unexpectedly, he heard a rustle of clothing and his eyes sprang open.
Lawson, standing brazenly in front of him, chest heaving, reached for the belt at his waist and unclasped it slowly, his stiff erection pushing against the jeans.
John sucked in a breath, mesmerized. He moved with such confidence, such bold authority over this moment—over John, that he could only stare and marvel at the transformation of this young man.
Lawson’s eyes were hooded and intent, heavy with desire, and he unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. “Tell me to stop.”
Jesus Christ.
Pulse roaring in his ears, John’s tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.
Lawson continued, unzipping his pants, loosening them, dragging his other hand up to reveal the sharp, smooth lines of his abs, the perfect, strong V-lines of his hips, sloping downward beneath the hemline of his jeans.
Fuuuck.
Fuck.
He watched the display of raw, masculine power, offering him the feast he was ravenous for. He was completely buzzed, and blamed his limited self-control at this moment on several very strong drinks. John’s fingers curled into his palms, refusing to reach for him.
“Tell me you don’t want me,” Lawson challenged, dragging out each word like a heated threat as his hand slipped beneath his jeans, cupping himself.
John let out a harsh curse.
A door down the hall opened, and Lawson stepped forward, pushing them both inside the room, and John went, heart hammering.
He touched the firm wall of Lawson’s chest, digging his fingers into the muscle around his heart, not sure whether to push or pull.
Lawson kicked the door closed with his boot, and it shut with a resounding click.
This is wrong.
This is so fucking wrong.
“Lawson…” John murmured warningly, pushing him against the door, not sure what the hell to do. He couldn’t give in. He knew he couldn’t. Yet his body and mind weren’t working together because his cock was thickening between his legs, causing him to let out a strangled moan of frustration.
“Tell me to fuck off,” Wyatt teased, biting his lower lip.
“Fuck off.”
Wyatt grinned, eyes dancing with seduction. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I know.”
Something passed over Lawson’s handsome face. Being this close to him, he could see the same bags under his eyes that were beneath John’s. And yet, the heat behind his gaze packed a punch to his gut.
John studied the usually smooth, chiseled outline of Lawson’s jawline that was already forming whiskered sprinkles of hair from his last shave.
He remembered how the nurses in the ED giggled excitedly over Lawson when he first started.
Blue eyes, classic, strikingly good looks, charming, and most of all, polite as hell.
He had the best bedside manner among his new team of residents and went above and beyond for every patient in his care.
The nurses were in love with the kid. If only he had a Southern accent and they knew he was actually a cowboy, he’d have nurses actively swooning whenever Lawson walked by or smiled.
Because, fuck, his smile was blindingly handsome. Boyish and sexy all at once.
And now, this cowboy, soon-to-be-doctor, with the most perceptive gaze he’d ever seen, wanted to take care of him…
John shivered.
Lawson pushed him deeper into the room, flipping on the lamp, which illuminated the youthful beauty of his face, making John suddenly feel self-conscious about his age.
“I can keep a secret,” Lawson breathed.
Fear and excitement bubbled up in his chest as he let Lawson crowd him, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
The sudden reality of them doing this hit him hard in the gut, and he stiffened.
Lawson didn’t know that John had never had sex with a man other than with his hands and mouth.
So if Lawson stayed—if he consented to this—he would be surrendering more to him than he would ever know.
Because he didn’t want his sexual inexperience to affect this moment.
This rare, wonderful, stupidly impulsive moment.
“No one can know,” John said in a dry croak.
Lawson’s eyes darkened as though the hunter had just been given permission to kill. Except that wasn’t it at all. Lawson was offering to give, not to take.
“I know,” Lawson murmured. “Can I kiss you now?”
Buzzed, reckless, and wanting to forget the tension in his shoulder, to forget the dark, empty void in his soul, John moved, capturing the strong, stubbled jawline with his fingers and tilting him upward into a crushing kiss.
Lawson let out the sexiest goddamned moan he had ever heard, and his cock responded painfully, pushing with such demand his knees nearly buckled.
He forced open Lawson’s mouth, slipping his tongue inside, tasting the whiskey and fiery need that was burning him alive—and fuck—fuck!
He tasted too good, and it was his turn to groan.
John hadn’t been unaffected by Lawson’s presence in the ED.
He’d seen how handsome he was, how natural he was at soothing certain patients.
He was talented when he was confident, and a bit of a mess when the spotlight was on him.
His nerves sometimes got the best of him, and John had seen it often.
It was why he pushed Lawson, why he was at his side, encouraging him to take more risks.
And Lawson responded eagerly, almost hungrily, to John’s praise.
He saw it but ignored it. He’d had plenty of teacher-pet types try to get on his good side, but this—this was something else entirely.
Something more.
Goosebumps erupted down his back, and his hands went to work, capturing Lawson behind the neck, holding him close while he greedily took from his soft lips and hot mouth.
Lawson's hands were busy as well, fastening themselves to his hips, locking them together as the young man arched into him, chasing the sensation and friction of their hard cocks against one another beneath their clothing.
Another reason he had been craving tonight with paramedic Ben was that John didn’t want to bear the weight of responsibility.
Not in the bedroom, at least. He was looking for someone else to take control—to lead him.
To give him the permission and freedom to lose control, just here in the sanctity of bed play.
Because he needed somewhere in his life where he wasn’t there to give but to receive, and better yet, be taken care of.