by JD Ruskin
“How about your full-time job is fucking me?”
I snickered as I carried him toward his bedroom. “I’d be a kept man, would I?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I squeezed his ass at the same time, and he shuddered instead, head back, breath catching as he clutched at me.
“Cy?” I teased him as I dropped him down onto the bed.
He looked drugged as he lay there, sprawled across the comforter staring up at me. “I like pointing at you in a crowd and saying that he’s with me. I want to keep you and put a ring on your finger and come home every night to your face looking at me like I’m an idiot.”
“I never look at you like you’re an—”
“Yeah, you do. When I’ve done something particularly stupid, you do.”
“Well, of course then.” I squinted at him. “That don’t make no—”
“You’re focusing on one part of what I said to avoid the rest, and I get it, I do. But last time you left, really, Web, my heart barely survived.”
I sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. “Well then for crissakes, Cyrus, why didn’t you just tell me to go on and not stop and see you?”
“Because,” he said, sighing, tilting his head to look at me, “one of these days you are going to let me love you, and you’re going to stay.”
I opened my mouth, but he lifted his hand to hush me.
“Or maybe it’s time I looked for a job in Texas.”
It took a second, but the weight of his words finally sunk in.
“Oh hell no!” I roared at him, getting up, staring down at him. “I gotta look for work in places that don’t got no hospitals or—”
“Fine, a clinic. I could open my own.”
I lifted up my hands. “Your life is here. Your family is here. The hospital where you work, that people know you’re at, is here! You don’t just—”
“You can find work; I can find work.”
“Oh for the love of—”
“No!” he yelled at me, rolling off the bed, pulling off one of his lace-ups, because, of course, the man wore dress shoes on his days off, and flinging it at me.
I leaned out of the trajectory as he came around the bed.
“You’re the thing I don’t have, Weber Yates. You’re what I miss. You’re the part I only have when I know I can wake up in the morning and see your face.” He finished, reaching for me, wanting his hands on me.
“I will not have you hatin’ me because you can’t be a surgeon no more,” I barked back at him, lifting my head away and back so he couldn’t touch me. “Bein’ a country doctor in some clinic in a little Podunk town ain’t gonna make you happy.”
“You make me happy,” he yelled, shoving me back hard, and being that close to the bed, I lost my balance and fell.
He was on me fast, straddling my chest, knees on my arms, pinning me to the bed. And even though we were fighting, the thought crept in that it was hot being manhandled, and his cock was right there, close to my mouth, just beneath a layer of denim and cotton.
“No!”
“What no?” I asked, because he was suddenly smiling, and his voice had lost the sharp edge and was instead smooth and silky, reminding me of velvet.
“I am having a serious discussion with you! Do not gimme that look like you want to fuck me because it won’t work.”
I smiled up at him, and I saw him shiver. Never in my life had I been the hot guy or the sexy guy, but for whatever reason, I had a drugging effect on Cyrus Benning. I melted him, and he did the same to me.
“You could undo your belt and them jeans, slip down your underwear, and bury your dick in my throat. Whaddya say?”
“I… you… I’m going with you when you leave, Web, make no mistake. I don’t want to live like I have. I’m miserable without you, and I won’t go back. I won’t.”
Why would I argue… why? Well, I would, but later… much later. Not now, not when he had lifted to his knees, releasing my arms from being pinned, and was unbuckling his belt and shucking out of his jeans like his life depended on it.
I pushed him off me and came down on top of him, feeling his hard cock pressed between us, hearing his loud, hoarse moan, and loving the scramble of his hands over my chest as he reached for me. The man was frantic to get a hold of me.
“Now it’s my turn to fill you up, Dr. Benning,” I told him, pulling off his other shoe and yanking his jeans over the long, sculpted legs. “And I ain’t using no rubber.”
He bowed up off the bed and ordered me to hurry in a voice that I had never heard before.
“Cy?” I smiled at him.
“Oh God, Weber, move! Get the fucking lube!”
No one ever wanted me the way he did, and for a second, before he screamed my name, I wondered if planning on leaving made me the stupidest man on the planet. But when I leaned back to him, lube in hand, he walked his sock covered feet up my chest, levering up off the bed, flipped back like he was doing one of those bicycle kicks in soccer, and held the pose. The only part of him touching the mattress were his shoulders, his pink puckered hole right there for me. All I had to do was bend forward and taste it. I put a hand behind his thigh to help with his balance before I ran my tongue over his crease.
“Weber!”
“Love how you yell my name, Cy, fuckin’ love it.”
“Please, Web,” his voice cracked with the strain.
Normally, I stretched him, licked him, prepared him, and made sure he was ready for my dick.
“Just fuck me!”
Tonight it wasn’t what he wanted. Sometimes he liked it rough. He liked me to use him and pound him and make him scream. He had missed me badly.
I shoved my jeans and briefs down together, slicked my hard, leaking cock with lube, smeared some between his cheeks, spread them, and shoved my way inside his quivering hole. His body arched against mine as I drove in to the hilt.
“Fuck!”
His thighs were shaking as I folded him in half, bent over him so his legs slid over my shoulders, and thrust hard and deep.
“Jesus, Cy, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”
“Web… Weber,” he rasped, eyes locked on mine.
I had never been inside of him without a condom. “You feel so good. God, so good.”
His harsh whimper tore through me, his arms flung out at his sides trying to hold on, fisted in the comforter, and all the time begging for me to fill him up. The chanting was an endless litany of pleading.
“Grab your cock,” I growled at him.
“Don’t have to…. Going to come with you just being inside…. All I need.”
True to his word, as I plunged into him, hammering, pegging his gland, making him cry out with every stroke, he came over my abdomen, his muscles clenching on my shaft like a vise, fisting so tight I roared his name. We were loud, and it was a gift that we could be, that we were safe in his house and could be however we wanted.
I emptied inside of him, flooding his spasming tunnel, knowing it was coating him inside, spreading everywhere.
“Only you, Web,” he whispered. “You’re the only one who gets this. Ever.”
Ever.
The man was mine.
Heart, body, soul. All mine.
I was such an idiot.
“Stop thinking,” he yelled at me, holding up his arms. “Kiss me. I wanna feel your heart beating.”
I eased his legs down gently and started to lean back, to slide free.
“Don’t. I need… closer.”
And I knew what he wanted, to be inside my skin, but I didn’t say anything, just rolled forward and wrapped him in my arms, skin to skin, lips locked together as I kissed him, taking his breath, his moan, everything.
I had never been held so tight.
Chapter Five
IT WAS really very simple. If I stayed and got a job working as a manual laborer or cashiering at Home Depot or learned a skill like being a barista, I would no longer be the man that Dr. Cyrus Benning found so alluring. I was a
bull rider and, barring that, a cowboy. It was not romantic in real life, but to some people it was. Cy fell into that category. If I stuck around, I would lose my luster, and he would tire of me.
If he left his life to follow me, he would hate me for what I let him give up. His reputation, his network of colleagues and friends, the amenities his life afforded him, and most of all, his family. It was not a choice he could make.
As I drove toward the hospital the following Monday morning, I told myself for the millionth time that I would leave when it was time, and hopefully, once I was settled, Cyrus Benning would come and see me if he had not, in the meantime, replaced me. The thing was though, a man like that—the pick of the litter—expecting him to remain unclaimed was just plain stupid.
After we parked in the garage, I led the three little boys to the information desk and asked where surgery was. We rode the elevator up five floors, found the nurses’ station, and I asked one of the women there to page Dr. Benning.
“Do you have a family member that’s a patient here?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Are you being admitted?”
“Oh no.” I smiled at her. “Dr. Benning just left his laptop at home and asked me to run it on over here right quick.”
She was a very attractive woman, and the sudden smile she gave me made her dimples pop as she flashed me rows of perfect, white, even teeth. “I see.”
I waited.
She studied me.
“Ma’am?”
“And the boys belong to who?”
“His sister.”
“He has a sister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Could you have a seat right there in those chairs, and I will page him right away.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her, herding the kids with me.
Micah and Tristan each had a Nintendo apiece, and Pip had something that looked similar but was chunkier and had a camera built into it. He already had lots of pictures of rocks, tires, clouds, and a blurry one of my ass.
As we sat there, I could not help but notice that the nurses’ station was beginning to draw a crowd. There were a lot of people in scrubs, a lot of white coats, and even one guy in a suit.
“Uncle Cy!” Pip shrieked and leaped off the seat beside me, streaking around the chairs and charging across the floor to him.
Cy bent and caught the little boy easily, kissing him and patting his back as chubby little arms were wrapped around his neck.
I got up, Tristan and Micah trailing after me, and met him halfway.
“Sorry it took me so long to get down here.” He smiled at me, his eyes warm and soft.
“No, we know you’re busy,” I assured him, holding up his worn leather bag. “I like this.”
“What’s that?” He smiled at me, reaching for and fiddling with the collar of my dress shirt under the sweater I was wearing.
“This bag. It’s nice. It reminds me of a briefcase my grandfather had when I was a little boy.”
“Well, there you go. They said it was vintage when I bought it.”
I smiled at him.
He took a breath and stepped closer to me, his hand sliding around the back of my neck. “So, I have a fundraiser to go to tonight that I completely blanked on. You want to meet me here and go with me?”
“You didn’t forget. You told me you had an event to go to while I was here.”
“No, that’s the annual Christmas party, and there are a few others as well, but this one never even made it into my calendar.”
“I see.”
“So?”
I squinted at him.
“I want you to go with me.”
“Oh hell no, Doc. You can go stag, and I’ll wait up for ya.”
“I would prefer if you came with me.”
I grinned evilly. “Not if ya paid me.”
“Please, Web.”
The eyebrow waggle I gave him made him curse under his breath.
His eyes narrowed, and I snickered. “You’re just—”
“Get home soon as you can. Me and the boys are makin’ stroganoff for dinner for their mama and we thought for you as well.”
“Oh, that sounds so good. Save me some, all right?”
“We’ll try.” I smiled at him. “Now put that boy down; we gotta go.”
“No, stay and have lunch with me.”
I laughed at him. “We ain’t eatin’ no hospital food. We’re goin’ to the wharf to get us some clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls before Micah’s appointment with his shrink.”
He made a face. “Kids don’t eat clam chowder.”
“You wanna bet?”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“Whatcha wanna bet?”
He smiled slowly, shaking his head. “I’m not going to bet you. Just… they won’t eat it.”
I shrugged. “Put your money where your mouth is.”
“Fine.” He laughed at me, putting Pip down before he leaned in close, hand on my chest. “I have this fundraiser tonight, but when I get home, if they ate, my ass is yours. If they didn’t, yours belongs to me.”
I scoffed. “Oh, you’re so under me the second you walk in the door.”
His breath caught then, and our eyes locked together like they did sometimes. I could stare at the man for the rest of my life, and he seemed of the same mind.
“Dr. Benning?”
It took a minute, but he turned and looked at the man there in the same kind of white coat Cy had on. The difference was, my doctor was wearing green scrubs under his, and the man had on a dress shirt, tie, and slacks.
“Could I get an introduction?”
Cy seemed confused, and when two other men and four women were suddenly there, all in white coats, clustered around us, he started scowling.
I felt bad; I didn’t want to embarrass him. That had not been my intention.
“We should go,” I said quickly, turning to the boys.
“No,” he snapped, arm sliding around my waist, anchoring me there, holding on. “Weber, this is our chief of surgery, Dr. Harold Swan. Chief, this is my boyfriend, Weber Yates.”
I didn’t swallow my tongue, which was really impressive. When I looked at Cy, the lift of his eyebrows, the steadiness of his gaze, all of it daring me to confront him, correct him, anything… there was no way. He’d said it. I let it lie.
“Weber.” The chief smiled at me, and it was not a little smile. It was huge. He was much more than simply pleased to meet me. He was stupidly happy. “Very good to meet you. It’s such a pleasure.”
I shook the man’s hand as Cy’s pressed into the small of my back. There were a lot of people then, meeting me, meeting the kids, asking questions, all of them looking at me like I was some amazing new species of animal at the zoo. When it was time for us to leave, when the chief ordered everyone back to work, they all said again how nice it was that I had come by. The man in the suit walked up then.
He turned out to be Donovan Allen, one of the hospital administrators, a man who sat on the board, and surprisingly, he too was thrilled to make my acquaintance.
“What the hell?” I asked Cy as he took hold of my hand with his right and Pip’s with his left and led us back toward the elevators.
He was laughing.
“Your boyfriend?”
“That’s what you are,” he assured me. “We’re more than friends, but you don’t live with me, so you’re not my partner. But if I see an opening, if you give me even a sliver of a chance, I’m keeping you, so that says boyfriend to me.”
I scowled at him.
“Lover would have been better?”
“Aww hell no.”
“Well then.”
“They were like vultures.”
He chuckled. “I’m a very private man, Web. I mean, they all know I’m gay, but I would never, could never, date anyone at this hospital or associated with this hospital, and since they’re a big incestuous mess, they don’t get that.”
I nodde
d. “Don’t shit where you eat. I get it.”
He grunted. “They don’t. And I don’t bring dates here. No one comes to pick me up or does anything like that. They see my picture in the newspaper on the society page or in the ‘About Town’ section or something like that. They see me at fundraisers, like the one I’ll be at tonight, but they don’t see my family or meet the man I sleep with, ever. I don’t share my personal life. I never have.”
“Don’t you have friends here?”
“I have colleagues. Most of my good friends, who are doctors, have private practices.”
I nodded.
“But my best friends aren’t doctors.”
“They’re the guys who came along with you on the trip to Texas, huh?”
“Yes.”
I had to think. “There was a dentist and a lawyer and the real estate guy.”
“He’s a land developer, and yes.”
“Do you still see them?”
“We’re supposed to take a trip to Cancun in February.”
I smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
“I’d rather stay home,” he said, eyes softening as he looked at me.
“I won’t be here.”
“You never know.”
But I did know.
AFTER WE had clam chowder and bread bowls—mine the spicy kind, the kids the regular—we headed over the bridge to Sausalito. Tristan had a cell phone, amazing but true, and used it to make the important call.
“It was really good,” he told his uncle on speaker phone. “We ate it all.”
“That’s awesome,” Cy praised. “I love it when you guys eat.”
I cleared my throat.
“I hear you,” he said, chuckling, “ass.”
“Yours,” I snickered.
He groaned and we hung up. I couldn’t stop smiling.
Spending time with Carolyn’s boys was fun. Going to the psychologist proved to be a surprise. I expected an office, a couch, everything I had ever seen in the movies. What I got was an older woman, Dr. Erin Watase, on a small farm in the foothills. She had a few chickens, horses, a donkey, one cow, and four ducks. I felt more comfortable than I had in days.