“Hong-Wei.”
Hong-Wei shivered, sliding his lips along Simon’s chin, his neck, pressing a kiss on his lover’s delicate throat. He’d become so fond of the way Simon said his name, to the point he longed for the sound now more than the sound of Hong-Su calling for him. He had three names in his life: Jack, the Western name his parents had given him, his family’s private nickname for him, and Hong-Wei. His teachers and few friends, even the Asian ones he’d made in Houston, all called him Jack. Only at home and on trips to Taiwan was he Hong-Wei, the name wrapped in vowels Americans could barely hear, let alone pronounce. Hung-Wei would almost have been a more appropriate English spelling, but the true vowel was somewhere between o and u. Hong-Wei had always loved hearing his family call him by his name, like a secret they kept between themselves.
Now, though, there was Simon. Simon leaned on the o in Hong—Hooong Way, his American accent turning the o into a sort of foghorn, or the honk of a goose. If Hong-Wei corrected him, Simon would try to fix it, but Hong-Wei didn’t want to.
Simon was the secret he would keep entirely for himself.
It thrilled him how compliant Simon was now, how readily he let Hong-Wei undress him, arranging him on the couch in nothing but his briefs, arms back, legs splayed to let Hong-Wei fit between them as he towered over Simon, admiring the view.
“You keep yourself fit.” Hong-Wei ran his hands over Simon’s chest, skimming over his nipples before caressing the hard planes of his abdomen. His gaze took in Simon’s biceps as his hands roamed Simon’s thighs. “I suspected you’d look lovely without your clothes, but your scrubs don’t do you justice at all.”
Simon shut his eyes as Hong-Wei continued to stroke him, but after a few moments of this he glanced up long enough to sear Hong-Wei with a steamy gaze. “I want to see you too.”
Hong-Wei stripped out of his shirt. Simon’s hungry look of approval filled him with pride, and he stepped off the couch to drop his pants, peeled off his socks, and his boxers too. He stood before Simon completely naked, Chopin cascading and ascending behind him, and waited.
Simon reacted like a starving man who had landed before a banquet. His nostrils all but flared as he raked Hong-Wei with his gaze, then let his hands trail where his eyes had blazed a path, as far as he could reach. “Oh my God, I’ve wanted this.” His hand trembled as he reached for Hong-Wei’s erect and bobbing cock.
Hong-Wei stopped his hand. “If you touch me there, Simon, we’re going to explode.”
Simon squeezed Hong-Wei’s hand with a grip as firm as iron. “Then let’s explode.”
Hong-Wei picked up his phone, turned off the music, then caught Simon’s other hand to lift him off the couch so they stood side by side.
“All right.”
Chapter Nine
SIMON’S HEART beat a steady pulse in his ears as Hong-Wei took his hand and led him up the stairs. Vague details filtered through his awareness—four doors at the landing, one narrow, there appeared to be a closet and a bathroom on the right—then they were inside a bedroom, Hong-Wei’s bedroom. The door closed. Hong-Wei pressed Simon against it, and the world fell away as Hong-Wei peeled off Simon’s underwear, laced his arms over Hong-Wei’s shoulders, and pushed their skin together.
Simon gasped, tilting his head as Hong-Wei kissed his neck, his skin prickling with goose bumps. Thump, thump, his pulse beat, growing stronger, louder. He felt as if he were in his own private dance club, pounding in his ears alone. Or perhaps the bedroom was their island, a private place where there was nothing else, only their bodies and their desires, and Simon’s heartbeat was the drum.
Was it okay to escape like this, to forget everything and everyone and all the consequences being with Hong-Wei would bring? His conscience flared, interrupting the beat.
Hong-Wei’s hands cupped his backside, tickling the downy hairs near his crack, and Simon’s conscience evaporated in want and surrender.
“Mmm.” A chuckle reverberated against Simon’s chest before Hong-Wei smiled as he nuzzled Simon’s chin. “You make the best noises.”
He made noises? “What… noises?”
Hong-Wei’s hands kept traveling over Simon’s body, mapping the skin of his hips, ass, sides, back. He also continued to rain kisses along Simon’s neck. “Little sighs and gasps.”
Simon would have been embarrassed, except Hong-Wei was so… Hong-Wei. “I love your smile. It makes me dizzy.”
Hong-Wei stroked Simon’s cheek. “My sister nagged me that I never smiled anymore.”
Simon’s whole body was hot, an indistinguishable tangle of shyness and desire. “You smile at me all the time.”
Hong-Wei cupped Simon’s chin. “I know.”
This kiss was carnal—slow, but deep and penetrating, the kind of kiss promising Simon he was about to be made love to like he’d never been made love to before. He tried to answer in kind, but mostly he was lost under Hong-Wei’s assault the way he always was with this man.
In the end, all he could say in his kiss was, I’m yours, I’m yours, do what you want with me, over and over.
Hong-Wei seemed to know this without being told. He kept kissing Simon as he moved them toward the bed, tugging the sheets away with one hand, hitching one of Simon’s legs around his thigh before laying him on his back, mouth closing over Simon’s shoulder.
“Tell me what you want, what you don’t want.” Hong-Wei shifted Simon’s other leg into the same position, opening him, then slid his hands up Simon’s belly. “Tell me how to give you pleasure.”
Simon could barely open his eyes or breathe, let alone form words. Everything came out as high-pitched sounds.
Hong-Wei’s strokes slowed, and he kissed Simon’s chest reverently. “Soft and sweet? Hard and rough? Which way do you want it?”
“Yes,” Simon gasped, grasping for Hong-Wei, hands landing on his hair.
He laughed. “Which one?”
Simon threaded his fingers into the thickness. “Both.”
More laughter as Hong-Wei hefted himself onto his elbows so he hovered over Simon’s face. He traced Simon’s forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips idly as he spoke, smiling. “I was last tested in January. Everything negative. Last partner was March. He told me he was clean, but of course, people lie.” When Simon blinked at him and said nothing, Hong-Wei tweaked his nose. “You’re a nurse. You of all people should know sexual health is important.”
Simon shook himself out of his stupor, clamoring to recover so Hong-Wei didn’t continue to misunderstand. “No—I know. I’m surprised, is all, because usually I’m the one trying to ask and then getting made fun of for it.” He cleared his throat. “I was last tested in February. Negative as well. Last partner….” He blushed scarlet. “November.”
“You’re choosy as well as careful. Sexy.” He stroked Simon’s throat. “I’ll get tested tomorrow for general STDs, since I haven’t had the mandatory clinic test yet, but until then, we’ll use condoms for blow jobs as well as sex.” His fingers traced Simon’s collarbone as he took Simon’s earlobe between his teeth. “I want to keep you with me long enough for us to repeat the six-month AIDS test so we can ditch condoms altogether. I’ve never done that with anyone.”
Simon fisted one hand in Hong-Wei’s hair and clutched at his back with the other. “I never knew sexual history could be so erotic.”
Grinning, Hong-Wei kissed his way down Simon’s chest, lingering at his nipples. “I’d like to worship you, Simon Lane. Make you come apart so I can watch. I’ll give it to you soft and sweet, with an edge of dirty.” He ran a hand around Simon’s hip. “Then when you’re a shaking mess, when you’re completely undone, I’ll put you on your knees. You can hold on to the headboard while I give you a ride, until you can’t hold on any longer. What do you think?”
Simon couldn’t think at all. “Okay.”
All right, he had one thought left, and it was that Hong-Wei had to be some sort of sex god come to life, that he had done a residency in Pleasing Your Partner, becau
se somehow he kept kissing Simon’s skin—legs, thighs, belly, hands, arms, fingers—while he produced lube from who knew where, warmed it in his hand, then slicked it over Simon’s cock. The condom went on just as smoothly, and Simon gave Hong-Wei all the soft sounds he wanted as he spit on the outside and jacked him into a state of exquisite hardness. The only break in his sexual spell was when he began the blow job, then stopped, shuddering as he made a sound of disgust.
“Sorry. Clinic condoms. I’ll get better ones tomorrow.”
The mention of condoms and the alert of potential danger drew Simon out of his haze. “Don’t buy in town. Get them online. From Amazon or somewhere that isn’t going to say Condoms R Us on the label. Or I can ask Kathryn to get them.”
“Ah, the lesbian condom decoy.” Hong-Wei ran his thumb down Simon’s perineum and dipped his head toward Simon’s cock.
Simon arched toward him, clutching the sheets as Hong-Wei closed his mouth over Simon once more. Without slowing down, Hong-Wei kept up the blow job as he pushed a pillow under Simon’s ass, hooking Simon’s legs over his shoulders before working lubed fingers inside him. Hong-Wei’s other hand roamed his thigh, stroking him reverently.
Breaking away from the blow job, Hong-Wei lifted his smoky gaze to Simon’s. “Play with your nipples for me.”
He waited for Simon to comply, his index finger deep inside Simon now, stretching him, teasing his prostate. Simon shivered and moved his hands, pinching his already erect nipples, unable to tear his gaze from Hong-Wei’s.
“Beautiful. You’re so sweet. Keep doing that for me. I want to look up while I suck your cock and finger you and see you playing with yourself.” When Simon gasped Oh and turned scarlet, Hong-Wei’s grin widened. “Sweet and dirty, as I promised you. This okay?”
Breathless, Simon nodded, and sailed away on a sea of desire as Hong-Wei lowered his head.
He’d never done anything like this. He’d had sex, yes; he’d played games, yes, had guys tell him to do things, but it hadn’t ever felt this way. He’d never felt as if he were caught in a glass ball, spun into silk fibers and run through electricity, all while Hong-Wei smiled at him and told him he was beautiful. He felt like he could have come any second, but whenever he was close, Hong-Wei seemed to know and winked at him, whispering, “Wait for me, Simon,” and Simon went back into his suspension of pink lust.
Worshipped. Yes. He felt worshipped. He’d never felt like this before in his life.
He didn’t think he could have sex with anyone else again.
When Hong-Wei pulled out of him and turned him over, Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to get on his knees or hold on to anything. He was a limp noodle. He’d been worshipped into a puddle. But then Hong-Wei lifted him enough to wrap arms around him, Simon felt the thick hardness of Hong-Wei’s cock at his ass, and he began to reconsider his noodle-ness.
A hot kiss on the back of his neck sent electric shivers down his spine as fingers closed over his nipple. “Are you ready for your hard and rough?” Before Simon could try to form words, a hand gripped his hip, kneading, pumping heat into his blood. “You’re so ready I can slide right inside you.” He tugged at Simon once more, and when Simon gasped, he groaned. “God, your noises. They make me want to grab your shoulders, push you down, and claim you.”
Yes. “Hong-Wei,” Simon whispered.
He cried out as Hong-Wei bit his shoulder. “Yes. Say my name.”
No one had ever bitten Simon before. If he didn’t feel so underwater, he’d ask if Hong-Wei would do it again. All he could do right now, though, was what he was told to do.
“Hong-Wei.”
The next nip came at his back, accompanied by hot suction, and Simon answered the attack with a guttural moan. When Hong-Wei closed his mouth over him a third time, kneading his ass, Simon whimpered and pushed his hands to the bed. He was ready to get on his knees.
Hard and rough.
He shook as Hong-Wei helped him get into position, wrapping an arm around his waist as he lined himself up behind Simon. When he felt Hong-Wei’s cock at his entrance, Simon hissed, flexing and pushing back, trying to take him in faster, but Hong-Wei eased himself inside.
“Too pretty of a view.” He ran fingers down the bumps of Simon’s spine as the last inches of his cock fit into Simon’s ass. “I need a little more soft and sweet.”
Simon ached with want and desperation. “Please, Hong-Wei.”
Fingers grazed his shoulder, teased his nipple. “Again.”
Simon’s whole body shook. “Please, Hong-Wei.”
The thrusts were slow at first, but they were deep, and Hong-Wei hung on to Simon’s waist with a rough grip that thrilled him. Simon clung to the wood, calling out, “More, please, more, Hong-Wei,” until Hong-Wei had his hand beside Simon’s, slamming Simon’s body forward with each thrust.
Eventually Simon couldn’t keep himself upright, and Hong-Wei supported him completely as Simon dissolved into pleas and sounds while he was fucked. When Hong-Wei grunted into Simon’s ear, Simon came undone, shouting Hong-Wei’s name over and over, filling the condom Hong-Wei hadn’t ever taken off him, then stayed limp as Hong-Wei finished inside him.
When they were done, they collapsed onto the sheets together, a tangle of limbs, breath, and sweat.
Simon whimpered a complaint as Hong-Wei moved away, hissed as the condom was peeled from his body, then settled into peace as his lover spooned around him once more.
When Hong-Wei spoke, he sounded as drugged out as Simon felt. “If every time is like that, I’m going to have to start adding cardiac stress tests to my physicals.”
Smiling, Simon lifted Hong-Wei’s hand to his mouth and placed a weary kiss against his fingers.
WAKING UP next to Simon was almost as delicious as making love to him.
Hong-Wei vowed he would always wake up first when they slept together, because nothing was sweeter than Simon’s face, softened and relaxed with sleep. For a half hour, Hong-Wei did nothing but lie on the pillow and stare at his lover. When Simon woke, he was almost as cute, blinking into wakefulness slowly, turning to Hong-Wei with a sleepy smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Hong-Wei smoothed Simon’s bedhead. He knew he was grinning like a fool, and he didn’t care. “Sleep okay? As best you could get on four hours, I suppose.”
“Amazing. I think your bed is a cloud. And it was a great four hours.”
Hong-Wei couldn’t stop touching Simon’s face, hair, neck. “Hungry? I’ll make breakfast.”
Simon nodded, but he grabbed Hong-Wei’s hand, kissing it and holding him in place. “When are you going into the hospital?”
“I want to check on Zhang by one. It’s eleven now. I’ll call and get a report while I cook. He’s my only inpatient, though.” Hong-Wei laced his fingers through Simon’s. “Do you work this weekend?”
Simon shook his head. “Though my mother wanted me to go to something this afternoon for our church. Something she volunteered me for.”
“Want company?” When Simon’s eyes widened, Hong-Wei arched his eyebrows. “I’m not going to make out with you at the church picnic or whatever this is. I’ll come as a regular attendee of the event and make a charitable donation.”
“You don’t know what it is. It’s probably full of little old ladies.”
“I’m a big hit with little old ladies.”
He cajoled Simon until he relented, laughing, and then with a kiss Hong-Wei left him in bed and hurried to the kitchen, mentally mapping the best morning-after breakfast he’d ever made. It wouldn’t be hard, since he couldn’t remember making one before. What did Simon like, though? Of course, this endeavor would be limited to the time he had and his supplies. Which, given how long it had been since he’d gone to the store, would be grim.
Had he bought flour? Please, let him have bought flour.
No, he hadn’t, but in one of the mountains of gift baskets he hadn’t opened there was, along with vanilla, a highly serviceable set of mixing bowls a
nd a whisk. After blessing the Presbyterian Women’s Circle, Hong-Wei tied a towel around his waist—no one had sent an apron, which was a shame—and set to work. He had to step next door to beg a few things from his neighbor, but when Simon came down the stairs, he had coffee ready to plunge in the french press and a stack of steaming pancakes waiting beside a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs on the table.
The noises Simon made at the sight of the food were almost as good as the ones he made during sex. “Oh my God. Are you real? You’re not real. I’m dreaming I’m part of an Asian drama again, aren’t I?”
Hong-Wei kissed the top of Simon’s head as he poured him some orange juice—not the brand he would have preferred, but since it was borrowed, he wasn’t in much of a position to complain. “I wouldn’t know an Asian drama from a hole in the wall, so I don’t think so.”
“Asian dramas are the best dramas. Nobody tells more romantic stories. Hallmark would weep to be as good.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Hong-Wei sat beside Simon and offered him the plate of pancakes. “I prefer to make them with buttermilk, but I didn’t have it on hand. I was glad the neighbors had half-and-half and that the gift baskets had the right ingredients I needed to get most of the way there. I’ll make them properly next time.”
“You’re telling me you made pancakes from scratch? My own mother doesn’t make pancakes from scratch.” Simon slathered a pancake in butter and syrup, folded it in half, and took a bite. He gasped. “Holy crap, I want to marry you.” He dropped his fork, covering half his face with both hands now. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that.”
Laughing, Hong-Wei forked some of the egg and held it up to Simon’s mouth. “Eggs are best hot.”
“I promise not to propose after I eat them,” Simon whispered.
“I promise to do better next time, then,” Hong-Wei replied.
The entire breakfast went by in a delightful haze, until Hong-Wei glanced up and saw it was just after noon. Simon shooed him into the shower, promising to clean up and call Jared to collect him, and by the time Hong-Wei came downstairs at twelve thirty, Jared was in the kitchen, stealing the burnt remains of the bacon and making Simon blush. Jared didn’t linger as soon as he saw Hong-Wei was ready, ushering him out to his car waiting on the curb.
The Doctor's Secret (Copper Point Medical Book 1) Page 17