Not His Kiss to Take (13 page)

Thank God. Same boot, probably. Jamie relaxed a little until Evan proceeded to get a handle on his soft cock. “Ah…um?” he sputtered.

Gently, Evan stretched him. His dick gave the tiniest twitch of interest. Instead of the usual words of encouragement he’d been using so far, Evan muttered, “Beautiful.”

“
Oh,
come on
, Evan. Don’t go all pervy on me now. You were doing so good.”

For a second, Evan froze, and then a lazy smile curved his lips. “I’ll try not to, but to be honest, I’m finding it hard separating my…my…ah…”

So.
Evan was aware of his own duality? “Your two halves?”

Evan frowned. “I was an emergency room physician, not a proctologist. Generally, there’s only one reason I have another man’s cock in my hand.” At that, Evan did look at him. His eyes were bright and lively. “Although I did have to suture one once. Irate girlfriend settling an argument with her manicure scissors.”

“
Ouch.”

“
I felt compelled to keep my legs securely crossed the whole time, even though the cops assured me they had her locked up far, far away and had taken away all her pointy nail files so she couldn’t get back out.”

Curiosity and Jamie kept close acquaintance, regardless of time, place, or propriety. Questions crowded his sleepy head. “Does this turn you on?” he asked without thinking.

“
Yes,” Evan answered, his gaze unwavering. “And I’m sorry for that.”

Well. What could be done about it? Evan liked cock. “I guess that probably makes you an expert on all things dick. Is it…does it look…okay?”

Evan slid his hand along the underside, stretching the loose skin and shining the powerful little light on his soft, shy length. “Yes,” he affirmed. “Still sore, though?”

Not as much as the boys. “A little. But it almost hurt as much this one time I wiped out going down the handrail on my board at school. Honest to God, I saw stars. My friend Eddie helped me get home after. No way was I gonna get caught like that by Big Betty, the school nurse. You shoulda seen her moustache. Gave me the total creeps.”

Evan just shook his head. “No pain on urination?”

“
None.”

“
And how’s it working in the morning?”

“
Huh?”

“
Do you wake up with an erection?”

“
Ah…um…” Jamie cringed. The flush crept upward from his neck, heating his face. Annoying pasty-white skin hid nothing.
Why does he want to know that?
And what should he answer? “I—I’m not sure.” Fuck. Maybe it
was
broken?

“
Well, then.” There was a touch of the orderly’s voice in those two words.
Bad news.
“Turn around.”

Wasn’t like he didn’t know this was coming. Big deal. Except…what if…it felt good? Like when the nozzle rubbed inside? Evan would know.

He’ll know if I like it. Fucking hell. What if he catches me liking it? I’ll die.

“
On your hands and knees on the bed.”

“
What! I thought I just had to, you know, bend over or something.”

Evan took him by the hips and turned him. “You’re still weak and shaky—it’d be easier for you. But if it makes you uncomfortable, just lean forward and brace your hands on the bed. This’ll be a more invasive than before, more like the enema nozzle. I want to check your prostate, and for that, I have to slide my finger in deeper.”

Prostate. Jamie paused in mid movement as it came to him.
That’s what it was—what the nozzle rubbed against. But why did it feel…so good? Is it supposed to? Is that why gay guys like it up the ass so much?

Except I’m not gay!

Evan nudged him forward, and he hit the mattress. “Brace yourself.”

Jamie pushed up onto his arms and locked his elbows. Unease churned in his sore stomach. Twisting, he looked over his shoulder at Evan behind him.
Fuck.
Bastard was enjoying his position waaay too much. Their eyes met.

“
I can’t help it. I think you’re beautiful.”

Well, fuck.
Wasn’t like he didn’t know that either. Evan said it all the time.

“
Would you prefer that Dr. Sharpe do this?”

Not in a million fucking years. “Go ahead. At least that way one of us will enjoy it.”

Evan gave him an odd look. Then he went for the lube.

This time, Evan’s finger slid right in.
’Cause I’m getting used to it, damn it.
He didn’t clench. But,
holy fuck
, he felt its presence far more. The strange ache flared to life as the fat knuckle of Evan’s long finger pushed in. Surprised, Jamie grunted.
Ignore it!
Trying to, he screwed his eyes shut.

“
More sensitive?” Evan asked in a husky voice.

“
Goddamn you,” he snapped. Bastard knew it would feel like this and purposely kept his mouth shut. He twisted his finger then, and Jamie almost fell forward on the bed, the rush of sensation such a shock his abdominal muscles clenched and his thighs tensed. The ache expanded, strange and elusive and…
pleasurable.
Evan eased his knuckle part way out, but then, to Jamie’s horror, he felt the tip of a second finger rubbing at his entrance, sliding easily in the slippery lube. “Hey!”

“
Relax for me,” Evan breathed. “Just two for a few seconds, and then it’ll be all over.” Evan leaned in closer and rubbed the small of his back with his other hand. “Take a breath, and then I’ll push in.”

No! This couldn’t be right. But his loosened hole gave against the insistent pressure, and Evan stretched his way past the tight ring of muscle.
Too thick! Fuck—that burns.
But it…felt good too. Amazing. How confusing was that? Wet with lube, he could feel the slickness as his hole stretched. His ass easily accommodated the extra finger squeezing inside him. Evan caressed his back and, at the same time, pushed both digits in deep. That fucking burned. Stretched. But kinda felt good. Jamie’s tense thighs trembled.

The room spun and then disappeared from sight. Like before, during the enema when every thought in his head scattered, all his concentration shifted to what was happening inside his ass and the flood of confusing sensations radiating out from that one central point of heat.

His cock twitched.
No, no, no!

Then his cock did more than twitch. It stiffened. The loose skin stretched, grew taut, and filled with blood and urgency. Evan petted him low on his back, just above his crack. His thumb crept lower, sliding into the crevice where he rubbed gently. Felt like his ass had been lit on fire, every nerve sparking at once. Evan’s fingers inside him moved—twisted. With that movement, the angle changed dramatically, and Jamie couldn’t help the gasp that escaped, loud and startled.

“
Evan,” he choked out, “don’t—” But his words fell apart on his tongue. Heat rushed in to fill up his head, blinding and incapacitating. The pulsing knot of nerves buried deep inside awoke violently under Evan’s stroking fingers. Intense pleasure—was it even pleasure?—crashed over him, the impact brutal. His heart lurched with the shock of it. His breath hitched. His cock expanded, filled, and caught in the blankets beneath him. Sudden warmth infused all his limbs. The thickened flesh between his legs throbbed evilly.

Yes, oh yes, it
was
pleasure.

The deft fingers buried in his ass stroked, once—twice. Against all belief, Jamie found himself pressing back onto Evan’s fingers, aching for more sensation, wanting more—desperate for more. God, if Evan would just move them
faster
he could…he could…o
h God, oh God, oh God.
Whimpers bubbled up out of his chest and escaped his gasping mouth. As he jerked back, his cock escaped the entrapment of the bedding and sprang up, rigid and pulsing, curving toward his belly with mindless abandon. His nipples tightened and ached in harmony, all puckered and needy. Would feel so good if he could just touch himself…

Behind him, Evan’s panting breaths grew harsher and blew hot—
hotter
—across his skin. Some part of his mind sensed Evan’s growing excitement, and for an instant, a mere breath, the haze of confounding pleasure parted, allowing a whisper of sanity to rush in. His eager cock bobbed heavily. Tender or not, his balls tingled and tightened. “No!” he gasped.
Stop it, stop it! Stop!
“Evan!” he cried. If Evan didn’t stop this right now, he was gonna make him…

…
come!

The stroking ceased. His ass sang a song of fire, and his stretched hole burned with both pain and sinful pleasure. “Out,” he whimpered. “Take them out!”

Evan did, sliding his fingers out slowly, carefully. He felt them retract through the walls of his rectum. His sensitized channel immediately missed the fullness, the emptiness as aching as the strange, inexplicable pleasure had been. Evan’s caressing hand on his back moved upward again, out of the cleft to land on his spine, patting comfortingly. Throbbing hotly, his cock remained stiff and erect, pointing proudly straight out in front of him.

For several seconds, he shook in confusion and hovered on the edge of climax.

Mortification prickled his eyes in the form of humiliated tears. His voice shook as he cursed, “You bastard!” at Evan, who’d backed away, taking his cruel and wicked hands with him. “You fucking bastard!”

Evan’s voice sounded no less shaky than his when he answered. “I’m sorry. If I’d told you what would happen, what I had to do, you wouldn’t have let me do it. But I had to make sure you could get and maintain an erection. I had to make sure everything works like it’s supposed to. That you weren’t damaged.”

Rage turned everything to shades of red in his eyes.

You had no right to do this to me! No right to make me hard, to make me feel this way…to make me wanna come.
“Get out!” he yelled.

For once, Evan didn’t argue, didn’t fight him. He turned away, paused at the door, and said, “I really am sorry, but I needed to confirm you were okay more than I need you not to hate me for it. And least now we both know you’ll be fine.”

“
Bastard!” he yelled again, but the door was already closing behind Evan’s departing back.

Humiliation scalded his face and neck. Evan did this on purpose. Took his revenge for that stupid little bit of attempted manipulation. Or was it that, somewhere in Evan’s bent and twisted mind, there lived a need to make him like it?

Furious, exhausted, and overwhelmed, Jamie flung himself down on his once longed-for bed and yanked the covers over the still-hard evidence of his humiliation.

I trusted you, Evan.

You bastard.

Chapter
Eight

Two a.m. and Jamie was up again. And angry again, judging by the noises coming from the kitchen. Wondering when his door would open and Jamie’s head would appear through the crack, hair framed by the hall light, Evan rolled onto his side and tried not to fall back asleep in case his furious houseguest wanted to talk this time. As he waited, he tried to think of something else besides Jamie and the unremitting pull the kid had on his every thought.

Like his own health.

How many days had it been since his last headache?
Don’t get your hopes up—don’t. It’ll only end in disappointment like it has every other time.
Hard, though, not to dream of freedom, even if it had been more than two years since he’d gone this long without that relentless hammering inside his skull.