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 Lawsonwantedto 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.
