Suffocate

by Xavier Neal

  SUFFOCATE

  A SENSES SERIES NOVEL

  XAVIER NEAL

  SUFFOCATE

  Copyright© 2015 by Xavier Neal

  Cover photo by: HeatherLynn Portraits

  Cover model: Cole Butler

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chatper 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Dedication

  To the Universe for keeping love alive.

  Chapter 1

  Luke

  I’ve seen many things in my ER, but I never expected to see him.

  How is it even beaten up and bruised he still looks like something straight off an MTV beach special? Remember when MTV had those?

  “I’m fine,” Stuart, one of my closest friends, who is like family at this point, groans to Betty who’s trying to help him.

  “Sir, you cannot drive yourself home like this.”

  “I told you,” he repeats this time running a hand through his blond hair.

  You think it’s as soft as it looks? What? No. I just...I wonder what kind of conditioner he uses is all. Oh stop. You’re sounding like my sister. Trust me. That’s a bad thing.

  “And I told you.” Betty waves her coffee colored finger at him, moments from losing her professionalism.

  It doesn’t take much honestly. Yesterday, she went off on the chip machine vendor for shorting the machine one bag of potato chips.

  “Betty,” my voice politely cuts in as I rush over to the situation. “It’s alright. I’m going to take him home.”

  She gives me a stern look, her lips pursing together before a very blatant, “Mmmhmm....”

  With that she strolls away a very bitter expression on her face.

  Not the woman I want pissed at me at work.

  The minute her attention drifts else where my eyes fall into Stuart’s.

  Well damn. When did they get that bright blue? In a little less than a year, I’ve looked into his eyes over a hundred times, seeing the shade change depending on his mood, but I’ve never seen this bright ocean color. There’s almost a twinkle in them. Wait. Why do I sound like this? Did you slip Bailey’s into my last cup of coffee?

  “Nurse Man,” Stuart chuckles wetting his perfect lips at me.

  “Clever. Did you think of that all by yourself?” My sarcasm forces him to grin wider.

  Why? Why is he smiling at me like that? Why does his smile always look like he’s up to trouble? Hell, why do I want to be the trouble he’s up to. Shit. No. No, I don’t. Guys like him are the exact opposite kind of thing I need in my life full time, even if occasionally I think it might be nice. Or fun. I don’t need fun. I have enough work to outweigh the need for fun. What? What do you mean that sounds stupid? I didn’t ask you.

  “I think of a lot of things,” he quickly comments. In a slowed speech that is accompanied with his eyes roaming over my body he adds, “All by myself.”

  Is he undressing me? Why are you asking me do I like it? Look, we need to get on the same page here. This...him and me, no matter how much I may have wanted it once upon a time, or am currently consider wanting it again because his parted lips are calling to me, it just isn’t a good idea. Trust me.

  “I’m sure you do.” I clear my throat. “But going home with no one to take care of you isn’t the best idea, while getting behind the wheel after that many pain killers isn’t even an option. So, let me drive you home.” Stuart just stares at me still obviously hesitant. With a deep breath I push harder. “Please.”

  “Fine,” Stuart caves. “But no funny business Nurse Man.”

  I roll my eyes and nod my head towards the direction of my car. After only a couple of steps I notice the limp he’s trying to muscle through. Immediately, I wrap an arm around his lower back for support.

  “Shouldn’t you buy me a drink first?” The joke has my body tensing.

  Not the time...

  I don’t respond.

  I wish I had a clever comeback. Or any words really. He does a great job forcing me to snap my mouth shut. Do not make any jokes right now. I’ve heard them all.

  Stuart drapes his arm around my shoulder and allows me to lead him out of the building and towards my car in the parking garage across the street. Trying not to get lost in the intensity of how amazing he feels in my arms, I say, “So are you gonna tell me what happened?”

  “Do I have to?” he counters, his tongue sneaking out to touch his lips again, the piercing on it catching the light from the street lamp.

  Shit. I forgot he has that.

  “You can or I can assume.” I lead us to the elevator that I rarely take.

  What can I say? I’m a bit health conscious.

  “But in my experience people never assume the right things.”

  Stuart remains silent while we wait for the elevator to reach us. When the rattling sound stops, the doors ding open, inviting us inside. I help him in doing my best not to stare at his bruised face in the light.

  Without making eye contact he mutters in a low voice, “I was jumped.”

  Not able to keep my voice calm I shout, “You were what!”

  “Can you take the volume down a notch?” Stuart gripes.

  Sheepishly I apologize, “Sorry.”

  Stuart smirks, “It’s okay. I’d just rather you be shouting for a different reason.”

  My face immediately flushes and my body slightly wavers.

  Did he really just say that?

  “I was jumped outside a bar,” Stuart repeats this time as the doors open to the level I’m parked on.

  The two of us head to my car, the wincing from pain still clear. “Mugger?”

  “Frat boys,” he corrects.

  Cautiously I ask, “Were you...were you leaving a gay bar?” Stuart looks over at me with a sarcastic look. I snap quickly, “What? Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you have to go to a gay bar.”

  “And what kind of bars do you go to?” Stuart flinches in discomfort seconds before I lean him up against the side of my BMW.

  “I don’t,” my response is followed by me unlocking my car door.

  “Why not?”

  “They’re not...my scene.”

  “What is your scene?”

  With a stern look I open the door at the same time I clarify, “Work.”

  Stuart smirks and dips into the car, hiding his pain poorly. Once he’s settled I shut the door and walk around to my side, my head fallen forward the entir
e time.

  It is what it is. I’m an ER nurse. It takes a good chunk of my life and when I’m not caring for people there, I have an entire family to look after. Trust me. They need me for that. They need me to take care of them.

  Getting in, I notice the pain meds kicking in full swing by the way Stuart is leaning against my car door, eyelids half open. I stick the key in the ignition. “Before you fall asleep tell me where I am taking you.”

  “Well,” Stuart struggles to answer. “Pretty sure I lost my keys while getting thrown against the wall, or maybe that was when my back met that dumpster.” The description of the event causes my chest to ache for him. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a hold of C.J. on my cell phone that somehow survived the ass whooping with a few cracks, to give me my spare, but no luck so far.”

  A twinge of jealousy rolls through my fingers and they grip the steering wheel tighter.

  They’re best friends. That’s it. Not only is his best friend straight but he is dating my sister. They’ve been head over heels from day one even if neither will admit it. I know it’s nothing more than friendship between him and Stuart, but something inside me still hates the fact he has a key to his place. Then again maybe it’s not that big of a deal since it seems like everyone has a goddamn key to our house.

  “He’s not home,” I refresh his memory. “He surprised Erin with a trip out of town to meet up with Tony to see Lex play.”

  Tony is one of the other members of our oddly put together family. Lex is his rock star wife that no one saw coming.

  “Shit that’s right,” he groans.

  “Anyone else have a key? Boyfriend maybe?”

  No. No I wasn’t doing a boyfriend check. I was trying to be helpful. Oh stop that. Not everyone is boy crazy.

  “If you wanna ask me out Nurse Man just do it,” the comment is followed by me backing out of the parking spot, my cheeks heating again.

  Shut up. It’s just warm in Texas at this time of year.

  “It’s a nice color on you,” he compliments.

  “I meant—well I meant for a—a—a spare key. Or to let you um...in...you know, if you lived together.” I somehow manage to explain.

  “Not big into relationships nowadays,” Stuart confesses adjusting his seat.

  Trying not to show how bummed the thought makes me I ask, “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated,” is all he says, eyes now fully shut. Before too long there’s a soft, heavy deep breathing, a crystal clear indication he’s asleep.

  In disbelief, at the stop light I lean over to see him completely knocked out.

  Is this a joke? The first time I’m alone with the guy I’ve not so secretly crushed on for almost a year, he’s not only beaten and bruised but he’s hopped up on enough hard core pain meds that it knocked him out in my front seat. Well ladies. Welcome to my life. Never a dull fucking moment.

  Chapter 2

  Stuart

  Through a heavy grunt I reach over to my bedside for my cracked phone. With a push of the button, the cracked screen illuminates the entire room while revealing to me not only that it’s damn near 10 in the morning, but a location I’m unfamiliar with.

  This isn’t my bed.

  Rolling over onto my side I briefly flash the light catching a glimpse of a sculpted face.

  Did you know I was in Luke’s bed? Why the fuck am I here?

  After putting my phone back on the table, I immediately peel the blanket back checking to see if clothing is in place. If either of us is naked, I know I made a sweet mistake that I’ve spent months day dreaming about.

  Have you ever wanted something so bad that you weren’t supposed to have that it slowly drove you crazy? Wanting to be with Luke is like wanting that one cookie your mother told you that you could never have. That one cookie that sits in the cookie jar on the highest shelf in the house. God I’d love to taste his cookies.

  I watch Luke’s chest rise and fall clearly in a deep peaceful bliss. With a smile I continuing watching, a small twinge of jealousy over the fact that he has something I haven’t had since I found out that I’m going to be a father. Since I realized that my entire existence I’ve built here with these people I consider family is over.

  I miss sleep...I’ll miss them too when I move, but I miss sleep more at the moment. Oh come on. Like you don’t love to sleep?

  His bare chest is taut, cut, and more delicious in person than it is in my fantasies.

  And that shit is hard to be beat. I’m an artist for God’s sake. I can paint quite a picture in my mind.

  Unable to resist I carefully brush my fingertips across his lower stomach, desperate to know if it feels as soft as it looks. The minute our skin makes contact, my cock rises inside my jeans. Goosebumps spread across his skin like wildfire causing my tongue to wet my lips at the temptation to replace my hand with my tongue.

  Maybe I could? I mean who honestly complains about waking up to a blow job? I’ve never heard of such a thing. And if you have, you just...you keep that to yourself.

  I let my fingers stroll across his skin, noticing the peaceful breathing becoming staggered. A very real possibility this simple gesture is turning him on.

  With a smirk, my hand slides down further right across the crotch of his red silk pajama bottoms pleased at the feel of his dick as stiff as my own. Relieved that he isn’t rejecting me like I imagined he would if we had ever come down this road, I wrap my hand around his cock, giving it a strong but gentle stroke over his clothing. I wrap my hand around his cock, giving it a strong but gentle stroke over his clothing.

  “Oh...” is the sound that slips out of Luke’s mouth.

  Terrified that if I look at him in the eyes, he’ll make me stop, I keep my attention focused on my hand that is repeating the previous motion. Two solid strokes later, my hands bravely inch up to the waist band. On a hopeful feeling I give them a tug. Without hesitating his hips lift up allowing me to drag the pants down his legs freeing his cock for my hand.

  I’ve seen many in my life and none of them have ever looked this fucking amazing. This thing should be in porn.

  Before Luke can rethink giving me a shot, my hand curls around it and immediately starts jerking slowly. When another moan leaks out of him, my grip tightens and I slightly accelerate the speed. Pleased at the moans now increasing, I brace myself on one arm moving my lips to his ear.

  Still nervous I’m ruining our fragile friendship, I whisper, “Want me to stop?”

  “God no,” he groans, his hips lifting to meet each push and pull.

  “Good,” I respond before letting the ball of my tongue ring tease his earlobe.

  “God,” he repeats again this groan louder, freer.

  My tongue travels down his neck sucking the skin harshly, eager to mark him. The moment my teeth give his neck a bite it elicits a sharp gasp, forcing my tongue to massage the spot I’m now latched onto. I suck harder. Sharper. Faster. The entire time my hand mimics the speed of my tongue knowing that if I don’t stop there’s going to be a bruise.

  Is it bad I want him bruised? That I want him to remember this moment?

  “Stuart...” Luke whimpers his body stiffening in waves.

  My cock twitches at the sound of my name.

  You wanna break it to him that we’re not about to fuck Luke?

  “You have to stop...”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” the argument is made on a moan.

  “Means less when you’re moaning it.”

  “I need you to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Stop before I...” the end of the sentence turns into a moan instead. “Before I...”

  Pulling my lips back up to his ear I demand, “I need you to come for me now.” My teeth clamp down on his earlobe and a fierce roar rips out of him as his strong hand that was death gripping the bed wr
aps around my head holding me in place as his hot come covers my hand.

  The two of us lay there slightly breathless, all the energy I have focused on not yanking his pants down and shoving my cock inside.

  That’s bad etiquette right?

  Luke’s grip on me loosens to lightly stroke the back of my neck. I move to hover my face over his. With a soft smile I get lost in his gorgeous gray eyes that shimmer a blue tint when he’s pissed or when he’s elated.

  What can I say? I’ve spent a lot of time watching what I can’t have.

  Sweetly I sigh, “You know I could stare into your eyes forever?”

  “Then why don’t you?” he ponders and something inside me aches.

  You want to know why too, don’t you? Let’s just say the world isn’t as understanding as everyone in our circle of friends is.

  “Why does it not smell like pancakes yet!” His sister’s voice yells and there’s a faint sound of chuckles behind it.

  “Shit!” Luke rolls out of my grasp struggling to get his pants back up.

  Well there goes that moment.

  “Shit,” he grumbles more to himself than to me, spotting the mess that we created.

  Quickly he drops his pants and rushes to his dresser, grabbing a clean pair of black silk pajama bottoms that look identical to the ones we just made a mess on.

  Yeah. He’s one of those, one in every color kind of people. I think it’s cute.

  “Pancakes!” Erin yells again.

  “It’s not Ihop,” C.J., my best friends says after her. “Which, I wanted to stop at.”

  “No,” she continues griping while I watch Luke toss on a white t-shirt. In a way it feels like he’s completely forgotten I’m here.

  That’s not really an ego boost.

  “Martha Stewart promised me pancakes and I want them.”

  Getting up I start, “Luke—”

  “Don’t.” He holds a hand to stop me from talking. Tossing me a towel that looks out of his place on his floor he says sternly. “And nothing happened here. Okay?”

  I press my lips together and nod.

  Why would I expect anything different? I’m known for being that secret kept under the rug or in the closet. Yes. I heard it.