Not His Kiss to Take (12 page)

For a tense moment, Jamie glared at him. Then he smiled crookedly and said, “Yes, sir!”

Sir?
Evan shuddered violently.
Oh my God.
This was a test, that’s what this was. “Don’t call me
sir
, angel. I already want to bend you over my lap and warm your ass to a nice shade of red—so don’t. Believe me, that’s one of my buttons you don’t want to push.”

“
You’re such a pervert.”

“
Shut up, James. I’m wet and annoyed, and you are going to bed now. If you can make it to the kitchen on your own, I’d like to get changed. There’s fresh orange juice in the fridge. Have a big glass and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jamie nodded but didn’t move.

“
Get out.”

“
Do it now.”

Now? Now was definitely not a good time. Unh-Uh. “No.”

“
Come
on
,” he pleaded. Dead tired and wrung out, he still fought him with a mule-headed obstinacy he’d never seen the likes of. Evan had never wanted to beat anyone more. “I don’t wanna have…
whatever
to look forward to tomorrow, ’kay? I just wanna get it over with. I’m so fucking tired of worrying about it. Besides, I’ve already had so many things up my butt tonight I probably won’t even feel it.”

Think so, smartass? You’ll feel it twice as much, my clever boy. Remember that sensitive part I mentioned?
Since that sensitivity could work to Evan’s advantage, he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from giving himself away. As part of the exam, he’d confirm Jamie could get and maintain a full erection and had adequate blood flow to every single inch of his penis. He’d see the proof with his own eyes and not just take Jamie’s word for it, because he’d probably lie to spare himself embarrassment. “
Deal.
Tonight, it is. While you have your juice, I’ll get dressed and clean up in here. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Tightening the belt of his borrowed robe, Jamie drifted off toward the kitchen. His gait had that loose, languid quality of a body utterly spent. Usually, Evan only saw that kind of walk after he’d fucked someone well and thoroughly. This had nothing to do with sexual satisfaction, just Jamie’s body adjusting to the aftereffects of the enema and the relief of being cramp-free.

Wish I’d made you walk like that because I’d fucked you senseless, lovely Jamie. Because I couldn’t drag one more orgasm from your sated, well-used, fucked-out body.

But that would never happen.

Frustrated, Evan yanked off his shirt and shoved his clammy, clingy jeans down over his hips and stiff cock. Freed at last, it sprang up impossibly high. That image of Jamie down on his knees before him flashed in his mind’s eye—a vision to haunt him forever—and he shuddered anew. He touched the silken tip. As he ran his fingers up the hard length and thumbed the head, his heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, strong and fast. A tight fist and a couple of rough strokes would send him spiraling into a powerful orgasm right then and there.

Not tonight.
Another lonely orgasm would break him to pieces. If he couldn’t share his climax with someone else, he’d simply do without.

I don’t want to live this empty life anymore. I want more.

Alone in the room echoing with all the silence of a marble tomb, Doctor Evan Harrison covered his burning eyes with his hand and let the sharp edge of despair take a jab at him.

Chapter
Seven

Brain freeze.
Goddamn and hell.
Jamie’s throat constricted painfully around the cold orange juice as it froze a path down into his stomach. Between shocked gasps for air, his eyes watered. Finally, he managed to suck in a gulp of warm air.
Shouldn’t have chugged it so fast, you dumb fuck
. But damn, the minute he’d reached the kitchen, he’d suddenly gotten so thirsty he could’ve hung his head upside down under the faucet and let the water pour down his throat. Except Evan said to have juice, so he had juice.

Fucking enema. His belly lurched weakly in remembrance.

Okay, it hadn’t been
that
bad. Getting shit-kicked by three linebacker-sized men in a public restroom had been worse, so yeah, in comparison, the enema had been fun. A riot. More slowly this time, he drank the rest of his OJ and washed it down with some lukewarm water.

Evan said he’d get his equilibrium back soon—but fuck,
when
? His head still felt kinda fuzzy. All trippy and spaced-out. Leaving stuff on the counter or in the sink instead of the dishwasher was a no-no, but Jamie didn’t give a shit. He had stuff on his mind.

Like that strange, achy itch inside his ass during the enema. What the hell? That nozzle rubbing there had felt…
good
. Disgusted with himself, Jamie snorted.
Made my dick start to get hard too.
Fucking embarrassing. Hopefully Dr. Dirty-Deeds hadn’t noticed. Christ, just what he needed—getting off on something pervy Evan got off on. Mortified, Jamie slumped against the fridge and closed his eyes.
I’m too weirded-out to deal with this right now.

But it had felt pretty amazing. Whatever it was.

“
Jamie?”

Startled, Jamie jerked away from the fridge and snapped open his eyes. His hand flew to his stomach as the muscles clenched in sudden alarm. “Christ, Evan!” he gasped. “Did you hafta scare the fuck outta me?”

“
Sorry. You looked like you’d fallen asleep standing up.”

Evan cornered him against the fridge. “What?” Jamie slid to one side, noticing Evan’s eyes seemed especially sinister and unreadable. Evan confused him at the best of times. This was even more confusing, his mood indecipherable and reminiscent of how he’d looked as he’d towered over him in the shower. On the edge.

Why are you pissed at me? You won. You love winning. I let you do unspeakable things to me, so you got no right to be ticked.
Before he could escape, Evan hooked an arm under his elbow and pulled him close, then, keeping a firm grip on the sleeve of the robe, dragged him toward the hall. “What are you doing? Let go! I wasn’t sleeping! I swear I wasn’t. I’m fine.”

A shame the shower had washed away all traces of sweat and cocoa from Evan’s skin. That darkly alluring scent had been replaced by one less interesting, the clean cottony smell of Evan’s new outfit of a dry T-shirt and baggy pants.
Bummer.
He’d smelled so…lickable
.

Lickable? What the fuck?
Stupid enema.

“
You don’t look fine. Even your bruises are turning white.” Ignoring his feeble protests, Evan pulled him along. “Come on, angel, sack time for you.”

“
I don’t feel so floaty anymore.”

“
Yeah, I know. It never lasts as long as you want.”

“
How long’s it gonna take for you to examine me?” Now that he thought about it, his ass felt a little sore. But no way did he want to deal with this again tomorrow. Evan had to get it over with
tonight
. Oh, but the guest bed would feel heavenly, all that decadent warmth waiting for his sore body. Way nicer than the crappy futon he slept on at home.

“
Forget it. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

No way in hell was Evan getting away with reneging on their deal.
Not after what I just went through!
Jamie planted his feet and pulled his arm from Evan’s grasp.

“
Oh, don’t go getting all stubborn on me. I’m really not in the mood.”

“
Go all PMS on me some other time. You promised.”

“
I didn’t promise.”

Okay, not
promised
, exactly. “Agreed.”

“
I’m starting to think you like my hand on your cock and my finger up your ass.”

As if.
“Forget it, then,” he huffed. This wasn’t worth the fight, not if he was gonna be such a prick about it. Besides, falling into that huge bed had more appeal. Jamie left Evan in the hall and almost made it under the covers before the man followed. “Fuck off, Ev. I’m tired.” More tired than he’d ever felt. Drained.
Hollow.

“
I always keep my word.”

Jamie wasn’t used to people who did. All talk and no action was what he usually got, blah, blah and then nothing. But not from Evan; he had conviction. Or maybe just a bigger streak of bossiness. Who the fuck cared? Tomorrow could begin with a clean slate if he got this out of the way tonight. He chewed the healing ridge on his lip and eyed his bed forlornly. “Then glove-up, Dr. Pervy-Fingers. My dick’s finally all yours.”

Evan snapped back into doctor mode, complete with rubber gloves and that icy stethoscope. Hot and cold. No—Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But which persona was the evil one? At least his fingers were warm as he prodded and palpated everywhere from the top of his head on down, lingering a moment at the scab on his temple. Missing nothing, he even stuck a finger in his mouth to check the inside of his cheek and peered down his throat with a little flashlight. Did he really have to look up his nose? It tickled slightly when Evan ran cool hands along his ribs and found new sore spots he didn’t even know he had. Fuck—he had bruises
everywhere
. They’d all turned varying shades of putrid, like he’d caught some weird frickin’ disease.

Wait. The disease actually had a name: homophobia.

While Evan checked him over, he muttered to himself, with “looks good,” and “healing nicely,” being repeated often. Evan probably didn’t intend it, but those little comments did wonders for Jamie’s peace of mind. The assholes hadn’t broken him.

And he was safe with Evan
.

“
Does this hurt?” Evan asked as he pressed his thumbs into his lower abdomen and groin.

Wincing, Jamie pulled back. “Well, it didn’t till you started poking me. Why do you doctors always do that, huh? Why? It’s fuckin’ mean.” Might as well forget about getting an answer; doctors probably had no idea themselves. Evan continued prodding him. A massive purple splotch on his hip courtesy of a size-twelve boot was the size of Evan’s hand. Ouch.

“
Bastards,” Evan muttered, and then his big hands slid down, one on each hip, then thighs. “Spread your legs a bit.”

“
Aren’t you gonna sweet talk me a bit first?”

“
That
was
sweet talk.”

Before Jamie got a chance to spread them of his own free will, Evan wedged a hand between and parted them for him. Then his balls were caught in Evan’s hand. By apparent mutual decision, they didn’t look at each other as Evan fondled him thoroughly. Still felt weird and disturbing having another man grope him so familiarly. Evan rolled one between his fingers, and Jamie winced.

“
Really sore? Or just tender?”

“
Tender,” Jamie answered. He’d crotched himself skateboarding more than once, although it had never hurt this bad. “No worse now that they’ve healed up than if I got nutted playing ball with friends.”

“
And this one?” Nimble fingers worked over the other one.

“
Same.”

The confident fingers worked their way up his groin and then slid into his pubic hair at the base of his cock. One side smarted under his prodding fingers. The little light revealed a nice eggplant-colored patch he hadn’t noticed before. But Evan reassured him with, “Just a bruise, Jamie, and healing well.”