Chapter 20 #3
“My ex and I fought,” John heard himself say.
“Not enough to divorce, but enough to hurt each other. We tried for a baby, ignorantly thinking that would fix the issues between us. And then she couldn’t have kids, and that was it.
All that time, putting our energy into hope only to have it be denied, killed whatever was left between us.
She left a few months later. The divorce was…
” he sighed heavily, “well, it was pretty gruesome even for an ED doctor.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I want to still believe in soulmates like my parents,” he murmured, his hand stroking Wyatt’s chest, smelling his faint natural scent mixed with fire and wine. “I do know one thing,” he said, voice unexpectedly shaking. “I’ve never felt like this with someone before.”
“Probably because I’m pretty fuckin’ incredible,” Wyatt teased arrogantly, rolling up to glance at him. The firelight danced over his beautiful face and John, at that moment, was in awe, smiling down at him.
“That you are,” he replied, swallowing the emotion.
“You are too, you know.”
Something quiet passed between them, and John kissed his shoulder, “Thanks.”
“Come with me to Arizona,” Wyatt said, surprising him.
He blinked, hesitating.
“Come with me,” Wyatt pressed firmly. “And then when we’re done, we’ll come home.”
Emotion, like a gut punch to his stomach, hurdled through his entire body. “Home?”
“Here,” Wyatt breathed. “Right here with you.”
John closed his eyes briefly, realizing that everything he just said to Wyatt was a lie. That he did believe in soulmates—not just because of his parents—but because of him.
Wyatt sat up, slipping his hands around John’s waist and drawing him close, releasing a long sigh.
“I don’t wanna go anywhere without you. I don’t think I can anymore.
You’ve ruined me entirely. I’m addicted to the crinkled laugh lines around your eyes, your half-hearted smile, your fuckin’ beardy kisses, and the way you look at me…
just me. I would imagine it’s the same feeling the moon gets when it looks at the stars.
Or when the sun looks at the flowers in spring. ”
John’s eyes watered and he laughed weakly, “Now who’s the romantic?”
“I’ve always been a romantic. You just gave me permission to actually be one.” Wyatt kissed him tenderly, lovingly. “Say yes, John.”
He nodded, heart aching. “Yes. I’ll come with you.”
Wyatt kissed him harder then, looking victorious for only a moment before picking up their wine glasses and standing up. “Let’s go to bed. We have an early flight tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Seriously?”
“I booked an extra ticket, hoping you’d say yes.”
He opened his mouth to protest when Wyatt cut him off with a firm head shake.
“You know all we gotta do is tell Steph and she’ll handle it.”
John stiffened, uncomfortable with the idea of—what? Asking for help? This had been his problem the last six months, and it took the people around him to remind him he wasn’t supposed to do everything on his own.
“Okay,” he released a hard breath. “Samuels isn’t going to be thrilled, possibly sharing shift time with Walsh.”
Wyatt frowned, “Did you catch what he said earlier about no one special back home?”
John stood and nodded. “You think he was lying?”
“If I had a you back home that I was in love with and couldn’t have—I would have to leave.”
Goosebumps erupted over his arms and he swallowed, envious of how easy it was for Wyatt to be so vulnerable with his feelings, and how the word “love” continued to roll off his tongue in reference to him.
Wyatt shook his head, “I feel bad for him. Something must have happened that made him move all the way across the country to avoid his, Dr. Donnelly.”
He blushed, “You think so?”
Wyatt’s pale blue eyes locked with his. “I know so.”
They walked back inside the house and Wyatt set their glasses down, slipped his hand into John’s, and led him to the bedroom.
John was oddly nervous as Wyatt flipped on the bedside lamp and began to pull off his sweater and the shirts beneath, revealing his beautiful chest, all soft skin and hard muscles.
“I want that ride, Dr. Donnelly,” Wyatt husked in that seductive voice, and John released the breath in his chest.
Fuck yes.
Wyatt stood before him, slipping off his buckle, eyes heated and low, chest panting already with desire as he stripped before him.
“Do anything you want to do to me,” Wyatt said almost pleadingly. “I fuckin’ need it, daddy.”
John nearly groaned, realizing what he was asking. He was asking for the command—the authority of Dr. Donnelly that was steady and sure, confident and—him.
He went to him, hand collaring the base of his throat and tilting him back, watching the excitement blaze up at him, hungry and needy.
Wyatt wanted to be dominated, and John wanted that, too.
“Undress me,” John ordered coolly.
Wyatt’s breath exhaled from his nostrils, and he complied instantly, hands trembling as he did so, slipping under his sweater, dragging it off his body and revealing his naked chest as he started to reach for him.
He let his cowboy explore his body, trailing grasping hands over his shoulders, pecs, and downward to his jeans, unbuttoning him quickly with an eagerness that was felt all the way down to his toes, filling his cock.
He slipped off his shoes, helping Wyatt with his jeans and briefs, and stood naked before him, his cowboy resting on his knees, hands cupping the backs of his legs and slowly moving upward.
John shook his head, knowing how much Wyatt loved to suck his dick, but not tonight—tonight he was in charge.
He moaned at John’s denial and defiantly grazed his face against his thickening cock, hands traveling upward to palm his ass.
John nearly choked out a gasp at the sight of Wyatt’s needy expression as he bypassed his dick, clearly wanting it but reluctantly getting to his feet, pouting.
He reached for his throat again, liking the feel of his leaping pulse beneath his grasp as he glared at him. “Do that again, but don’t open your mouth.”
Wyatt let out a rush of air and instantly dropped to his knees, brushing and burying his face against John’s cock and the hair nestled around it.
He’d never seen something so dirty—so sexy.
His cock was straining and beginning to leak as Wyatt desperately fought the urge to open his mouth, his lips tightening as he nuzzled and pushed John’s cock over his chin and lips, pressing hard and urgent kisses beneath his shaft, against his balls, into the hair.
Wyatt continued to push and press. The sensation he was creating was both arousing and frantic, and he liked watching him squirm with desire.
John lifted his leg onto the bed, widening his stance, and Wyatt didn’t wait to be told what to do as he pushed his face under him, hands opening his cheeks and kissing his tight entrance.
“Use your tongue,” John rasped.
Wyatt moaned and did, burying his face into his ass, tongue spearing hotly into his hole, and he rewarded him with a deep groan. Wyatt instantly reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them and grabbing the bulge that was tenting against the denim.
“Both hands on me, baby,” John ordered, and Wyatt didn’t protest, hands on his cheeks, widening him again, tongue lapping and thrusting.
John’s cock thickened between his legs, slapping against his thigh as he began to rock his hips over Wyatt’s tongue. This would’ve been easier on the bed, but he didn’t want to lose his position of power. He wanted Wyatt to be the one on his knees or back.
John reached behind him, grasping Wyatt by the back of his head, and arched into his face, shoving him deeper into his ass. The tantalizing sounds of wet sucking and groans filled the air as John felt nothing but his cowboy’s tongue and mouth devouring his entrance.
“Fuck, you do that so fucking good, baby.”
Wyatt whimpered.
“You like eating my ass?”
He whimpered again, shaking against him.
“Fuck yes,” John moaned. “Give me that fucking tongue.”
Wyatt lapped greedily until John’s tip was smearing all over himself and he finally couldn’t stand it anymore and yanked Wyatt off him. He fell back in a whoosh of breath and let out a stream of curses, grabbing his dick over his jeans, painfully aroused.
“Come here,” John commanded, and Wyatt did. “Take off your jeans.”
Wyatt nearly stumbled trying to get them off so quickly, and John could’ve laughed at how adorable he was, but he kept his expression composed, not wanting to break the spell of authority that Wyatt clearly had a raging hard on for.
When his dick popped free from the confines of his briefs, he was brutally hard, precum wet against his tip.
John reached for him, moving his hands over his muscled chest and down the sloping V of his hips, to the apex of his cowboy’s glorious dick. It was his turn to suck.
He dropped to his knees and Wyatt let out a surprised, breathy moan, followed by a stream of curses as John opened his mouth over him and drew in the thick, straining cock.
He tasted the salt, smelled the musk of his sex, and his cock twitched eagerly as he began to suck up and down the shaft.
The feeling of Wyatt moving in and out of his mouth was intoxicating and addicting, and he loved the feel of the thick flesh that filled him, sliding over his lips, nearing his throat.
“John…” Wyatt whispered hoarsely. “I—fuck…!”
John gagged on his dick, throat closing over him, making him shudder and blindly grab him with both hands around his head, fucking his mouth.
“Fuck, daddy,” he moaned arching backward, quickly spearing in and out, humping and moving down his throat and mouth as if he were fucking him, and John was so hard he couldn’t think, only feel.
But he didn’t want Wyatt to climax like this. He wanted to feel him shudder and break beneath him. John pulled back, ruthlessly tonguing his tip and causing Wyatt to buck before he slid off him.