“It’s been two minutes,” Donnelly murmured in a shaky breath.
Wyatt’s fingers inched into his hair at the base of his neck, deliberating on leaning over and licking the taste off the side of his captain’s throat. Instead, he released him, taking a giant step backward and returning to his coffee mug.
Donnelly’s head snapped up, as though waking from a hazy dream, eyes clouded as he blinked rapidly.
“I…” Donnelly started and then stopped, confused. “I, uh—thank you.”
He nodded, sipping the motor oil coffee. “You’re welcome.”
They stared for a long time before Donnelly nervously glanced away and headed for the door.
“Dr. Donnelly,” Wyatt said, halting the doctor in his tracks, his hand on the doorknob.
The tension in Donnelly’s shoulder was already beginning to form upon returning to the ED. Wyatt frowned, and in a reckless impulse he rarely ever experienced, except whenever he was around this man, said, “Give me another night.”
Donnelly’s eyes widened, and his lips parted, about to protest.
Wyatt continued quickly. “Give me as many nights as it takes to heal your shoulder. No strings. No attachment. Just… enough time to rub you down thoroughly. And then we’ll stop.”
“Lawson…”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just relief.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“The same thing.”
This was true. Wyatt would finally get to have another night with Donnelly, and if he had to present it to him in terms of convenience with no strings attached, maybe the older man would feel more in control about crossing the line—again.
Donnelly scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and then his jawline. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Agreed. But sometimes the best ideas are the worst ones. Kinda like riding to the edge of the cliff just for the view.”
“Or for a car commercial,” Donnelly’s smile was slow and genuine, filling up the forgotten space in Wyatt’s soul.
“So?” Wyatt asked gruffly, trying hard to hide his need to keep doing this. He needed it far too much, and he knew this was dangerous, considering Donnelly was more interested in following the rules than breaking them. But with the way Donnelly was looking at him now, he didn’t give a flying fuck.
“So…” Donnelly drawled, eyes slipping back to the door and hesitating.
“Think about it.”
“I already have.”
Surprised, Wyatt stood on the balls of his feet, waiting.
“Meet me at the Four Seasons. I’ll text you the room number.”
Excitement thrummed in his veins, heart skipping like he just won the biggest prize at the fair. “You don’t have my number.”
Donnelly put his slutty black rimmed glasses back on, letting them perch low on the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows high. “I have all your pertinent information on file, Lawson. I’ll see you tonight at 9pm sharp. Don’t be late.”
Chapter 8
John
I’m late.
“Tanya,” John glanced at his wristwatch, patience zapping to a hard zero. It was 8:45 pm. He was going to be late with Lawson.
