Not His Kiss to Take (11 page)

Running soap-slick hands over those muscles and that silken skin? A line just begging to be crossed.

“
God, I love your shower,” Jamie groaned, tilting his head back so the warm water pelted his face and raced enticingly down his bared throat and sparsely haired chest.

Captivated by the sight, Evan stared openly. Saliva pooled in his mouth. In love, his dick strained and throbbed against his jeans.
Don’t get excited,
he told it.
You know that love is unrequited. Stop wanting what you can’t have.
“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll wash your hair for you.” Couldn’t get into trouble if he kept his hands confined solely to Jamie’s head, could he? Then again…that beautiful blond silk caught between his fingers?
Damn it.

They kept their forearms locked as Jamie lowered himself to the floor. Evan assisted, ensuring he didn’t slip on the tiles. Jamie settled on his knees. Evan swallowed hard.
Heaven help me, he looks stunning kneeling at my feet.

Damn, damn.

“
Hey,” Jamie said. The dreamy softness of his voice excited the already stiff flesh between Evan’s legs. “You’re getting soaked.”

“
These jeans needed a wash anyways.”

Warm rain sprayed on his upturned face as Jamie laughed. “Good luck peeling those suckers off wet.”

“
Oh. Yeah. Damn.” For an insane second, Evan considered shucking them on the spot, then thought better of it. Probably couldn’t force them down over his hard cock anyway. “Didn’t think of that.”

Still laughing at Evan’s predicament, Jamie sat. Evan sighed.
Please don’t kneel before me again, angel. I’m not sure I can take it. I’d rather have bamboo splinters shoved under my nails.
Then, to Evan’s utter dismay, because it was worse than him kneeling at his feet, Jamie lay down on the stones in a wide sprawl, youthful limbs going every direction, every glorious inch of skin and lean body blatantly on display. Not even the mottled bruises and healing scrapes marred his perfection.

Mouth agape, Evan stared some more. Heat, followed by an alarming tightness, crawled over his chest.

I’m having a heart attack…

Water fell, beaded, pooled, and rolled off Jamie’s body and glistened on smooth skin, tiny pink nipples and the flaccid flesh of his beautiful cock. Jamie’s pale face shone under the dim shower lights, all the earlier pained furrows smooth now. With the brilliant cornflower blues hidden beneath closed lids and golden lashes clumping together as water caught in their lengths, Evan could stare all he wanted. Plumped from the heat of the shower, Jamie’s full lips ripened back to rose red. Evan braced a hand on the wall, unable to catch his breath. Chasing the drops, Jamie stuck his tongue out and let water slide into his waiting mouth.

Nothing about it was suggestive; it was purely and simply innocent.

Nonetheless, desire unfurled deep in Evan’s chest and then spiraled lower, urgent and demanding. He couldn’t think—breathe. His chest burned. Okay. Not a heart attack. No, that’d be less painful than this, than denying the overwhelming urge to simply reach out and…touch.

I’m in such goddamned trouble.

Gritting his teeth for control, Evan closed his covetous eyes. That ethical line he’d been skirting wavered in front of him. As yet, it remained unbroken.
But it’s kinda blurry now, isn’t it? Will you snap it with a careless touch? What the hell is the matter with you anyway? Yeah, he’s beautiful, funny, and smart, and so fucking alive he sparks something in your soul…but he’ll never see you or think of you that way—the way you already dream about. Never see you as more than a friend, if you’re lucky enough for him to even consider you that.

Face the facts. He’s as straight as that line that haunts you.

Jamie’s voice, soft though it was, broke through his reverie. “Doc? Evan?”

Still holding on to the wall for dear life, Evan dragged open his eyes. Better. He could almost breathe again.

“
You okay?”

No. I’m not okay!
“Yes, fine, Jamie.” Evan barely recognized his own voice. “You need some help?”

Sitting up again, Jamie squinted at him as water sluiced over his upturned face.

Clever as a fox, isn’t he? Sees right through you.

But Jamie let him get away with his pack of lies. “Could ya pass me the shampoo?”

Not sure I can.
That would mean letting go of the wall. Hell no. It was the only thing holding him up; certainly wasn’t those rubbery things called legs. Clinging to the illusion of support, Evan slid his hand along the slick stone until he reached the built-in shelf. He grabbed the first bottle his fingers fell on.

“
Not that one,” Jamie said. “The one that smells like bubblegum.”

Okay, then, the purple one. No wonder Jamie smelled delicious. That scent, completely organic, was too sweet for his tastes, but for Jamie? Just right. With shaky hands, he handed it over. “Can you manage yourself?” Evan asked.

“
Think so,” Jamie answered. “But how come my arms feel like fucking Jell-O?”

“
It’s temporary. You’ll get your equilibrium back soon.”
And God please, let me get mine back too.

“
I feel…weird. Like I could float away.” Jamie grinned sheepishly at him. “Like that point just before you have that one drink too many.” He shook his head. “Only better.”

“
Endorphin rush. Too bad we haven’t been figured out how to copy Mother Nature and turn that into a pill.”

Jamie clasped his arms around his knees. “I didn’t believe you, you know. When you said I’d feel really good after. I thought you were full of shit.” He laughed against his knees. “No pun intended.” Unwinding his long arms from his legs, he gave the shampoo bottle a twirl. “Could you…? I’ll think I’ll just get in my eyes.”

Evan sighed.
Might as well.
He was already doomed. “Sure.” The jeans offered some padding for his knees as he knelt on the wonderful solidness of stone and lathered up Jamie’s sopping hair. Yup. Wet silk. The last butterfly bandage rinsed away with the suds. The purple shadows under Jamie’s eyes were just that now, shadows. Another week and the bruises would all be gone.

Would Jamie stick around long enough for Evan to see him fully healed?

Dread slithered and coiled low in Evan’s gut. Jamie was going to leave. Sooner or later, he’d go.
Don’t think about it! He’s not gone yet; you still have a little time.
No doubt the impenetrable silence would instantly return once the door shut behind him.
I’ll miss you when you’re gone, Jamie. I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’d undo it if I could, but your company—just the sound of your voice—has been a gift to me. Wish I could figure out how to tell you that so you’d understand.

Wisely, Evan let Jamie wash himself. His two hands weren’t particularly trustworthy at the moment. When he finished, Evan helped him up, and Jamie…
clung
. Too delightfully close for comfort until Evan peeled him off. Since Jamie still wavered a bit on shaky legs, Evan had to hover close by as he toweled off and slipped into one of Evan’s spare robes from the hook. The powder blue suited him, matched his incredible eyes. Not something he needed to notice. But at least he wasn’t naked anymore…or clinging.

All he had to do now was ensure Jamie replaced some lost electrolytes with a glass of juice and fell safely into the guestroom bed. If he got a grip on himself, both things could be managed without his hands being involved in any way.

Except Jamie always had to be contrary, never doing what Evan wanted or expected. Instead of leaving, he slumped down onto the bathroom’s only chair and flashed entirely too much naked thigh. Damn it, he looked pale. For a second, Evan worried Jamie might faint—that could sometimes happen. “Jamie, are you feeling light-headed? Faint?”

Even the way Jamie shook his head seemed sensual. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Evan’s heart thumped madly all over again.
He’s gonna call me on it. On everything! Even though I didn’t touch him—afterward, anyway—he knows how much I liked doing that to him. How badly I wanted—want—to fuck him.
Expecting the worst, Evan squared his shoulders and dripped a puddle on the floor.
Not like I can lie about it.
Or would. Especially not with his cock still pressing against his zipper, only the cold, wet material discouraging further interest. “Go ahead,” he finally said.

Jamie’s eyes flicked over him, not pausing at his crotch, but he had to notice—
had to
. “I don’t want to see this specialist friend of yours.”

What?
Took a second for that statement to sink in.
This is about the specialist?
He’d been expecting to catch hell, not another argument. Not that Jamie’d be worming his way out of their deal. “We had a bet. I won.”

“
I know you won, okay? I admit it. It’s just…I feel fine.”

“
Look, Jamie. Forget about the bet. This has nothing to do with that. I just need to make sure you’re okay, that everything is all healed up and working the way it should be. This is too serious to fool around with, and I can’t seem to hammer that into your thick skull. I’m not an expert and he is, so would you just let him check you over? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Who do you think I go see? Believe me; I’m intimately acquainted with his bony fingers.”

Jamie’s brows knitted together. Then his eyes flashed with defiance. God, was he
stubborn.
“I can’t afford it.”

“
I’m paying.”

The defiance burned brighter. “What’s he gonna do to me that you haven’t?”

The brat sure had a busy mind, hatching up all these arguments. “I have no idea.” Evan could almost see Jamie’s brain working on a new deal. “But you’ll find out.”

“
You do it.”

“
What?
”

“
Come on. You do it.” Legs wobbling, Jamie stood. The robe gaped open. More naked loveliness. “You examine me. Do what that bony-fingered dude would do.”

“
Jamie—”

“
Please?”

One word. One simple word and Evan began to relent. He was such a softy. Those baby blues silently pleading with him weren’t helping either.
Could I?
Never mind that.
Should I? Really, what’s there to check? If his penis and prostate are healthy and he can get it up with no trouble, then, well, what else do I need to know?

Evan considered it.
Fine. If he lets me examine him and gets good and hard when I stimulate his prostate, then I’ll let him off the hook, ’cause face it, Dr. Sharpe’s fingers aren’t nearly as nice as mine. Besides, who better than a gay man to know how things are supposed to feel in there? I’m more of an expert than he’ll ever be. And if Jamie doesn’t respond appropriately, I can always drag him to Milton’s office.
Evan snorted.
Knowing Jamie, it’ll be kicking and screaming.

Guileless blue eyes continued with their appeal. Evan stared back. Good thing Jamie seemed to be healing well; otherwise, there was no way he’d overlook the kid’s subtle efforts at manipulation. It was quite well done, actually.
Sly boy. But we’ll see who’s slyer, shall we?
“Tell you what. I’ll do it. On one condition.”

Guile gave way to wariness. Jamie’s shoulders slumped. “What condition?”

Evan sighed.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust you; it’s that he likes to know where he stands.
Evan couldn’t fault any man for that. “If I don’t like what I find—any part, piece, or inch—you will see Dr. Sharpe. With no questions asked and no further attempts to negotiate. You will suck it up and do it my way.”