by Turner, CJ
“And what are you doing out of the hospital? You’re supposed to spend a night of observation there.”
Brad shrugged. “I don’t like hospitals. The food is terrible, and the TV sucks.”
“I thought your fiancée was on her way.”
Brad caught Chase’s gaze and held it. “I don’t have a fiancée, Dr. Chase.”
“Your father couldn't be clearer on the point.”
“My father is used to getting his way. He imagined Terry was perfect to marry into our family. But she wasn’t perfect for me.”
Chase’s throat became desert dry. He grabbed the water bottle, twisted the cap, and took a swig.
“Sorry to hear.”
"The reason I broke up with my fiancée is that I like men, and that was an impediment to our marriage."
Chase grasped the water bottle too hard, and the liquid splashed from the bottle. He brushed the drops off his shirt and cleared his throat. “I can see where that might be a problem. Still, you left her in Miami.”
“I did no such thing. I was crystal we were done. If she harbored hopes, well, it was her wishful thinking, and my father’s misguided suggestions.”
“Still, if you made your orientation clear—”
Brad turned his head away.
“Oh, you didn’t give her that bit of information.”
Brad pursed his lips. “I haven’t—”
“Well, that’s a personal decision who to tell, and when.” Chase unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll go back to my seat now.”
“You can’t. The seat belt sign is still on. Besides, you said yourself that I should be under medical supervision.”
Chase shook his head. “I’m not your doctor. I left you in perfectly competent medical hands. What are you hoping to achieve here, Hunt?”
Brad took another sip of his whiskey.
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
“I’m sure.”
“Afraid of lowering your inhibitions?”
Yes. Exactly.
“No. Alcohol dehydrates you as does flying.”
Brad raised his drink. “Spoken like a mountain physician. It is also BS.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m calling BS. Plenty of people drink on airplanes.”
“Not people who have had two shots of a powerful amphetamine and should be watched for side effects in a hospital.”
“What side effects?”
“Chest pain, palpitations, fainting, vision changes, seizures, confusion—”
“I guarantee you, if I stayed in that hospital, away from you, I would experience chest pain.”
Did this sexy man make a pass at him? Chase sucked in a breath to break the shock that washed over him. Code Blue, Dr. Chase. Please report to the sensible parts of your brain.
“How can you talk like that to me? You don’t know if—”
“No. I don’t. But you walked away from me once, and I suspect if you do it again, I won’t get another chance. And you know what Shakespeare said about faint hearts?”
“I believe he was talking about maids.”
The flight attendant walked past them and Chase blinked, wondering if the woman heard this conversation. She must. This part of the cabin was not spacious.
“He did like the ladies. But the words seem to apply. Excuse me, miss, please bring a whiskey for my friend here.” Brad gave her a heart-shattering smile and for a microsecond, Chase hated Brad smiled at her. Damn it. The man could have anyone, but here he was hitting on Chase.
Words stuck in Chase’s throat and blood pounded in his ears. This can’t be happening. He never expected it, and now he didn’t know how to respond.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“What? You don’t find me attractive?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I was your doctor. And I shouldn't get mixed up with a patient.”
Brad gave Chase a heartbreaking grin, and a few fibers of Chase’s resolve broke.
“I’m not your patient now. You made that stunningly clear.”
“Still—”
The flight attendant brought the plastic glass with the whiskey.
“Here you go, sir. We have a limited selection of food items on this flight for first-class passengers. There is a fruit and cheese plate, or a chicken sandwich with Havarti cheese.”
“I’m good,” said Brad. “Chase?”
An electric jolt went through Chase when Brad spoke his name. It was right in ways it shouldn’t be. He shook his head to clear it and concentrated on food instead because that was a neutral subject. That should distract him from the sparks in parts south that he should not think about. Besides, Chase couldn’t remember when he ate last. “I’ll take the sandwich.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, do you charge for food?” Chase had no idea what a meal would cost in first class.
“Don’t worry. It comes with the seat,” said Brad. He nodded to the attendant that trotted toward the galley.
“I get the idea that you are paying for this seat.”
“I always buy two seats, to avoid exposure to peanut products.”
“That didn’t work the last time.”
Brad shrugged. “When you live with a deadly allergy, you do what you can. Some days your luck runs out. Or maybe it was my lucky day, because I got to meet you.”
The flight attendant returned with the sandwich. “Is there anything else, sirs?”
“No, thank you,” said Chase.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“This is wonderful service.” Chase inspected the sandwich. A rye and white swirled bread, lettuce, mayo, and sliced chicken. But he was so hungry he’d scarf any food. Brad usually took quick bites between shifts and didn’t expect much from food.
“Before you eat that sandwich, there is something I’d like to do.”
“Pardon?” said Chase. He glanced up and got locked into Brad’s intense gaze that pierced his soul. And he couldn’t look away even as Brad leaned forward and kissed him.
Brad’s lips pressed against his, full and laced with the sharp taste of whiskey. Chase sat there stunned as Bradley Hunt took possession of his mouth.
Chapter 6
Brad
The urge to kiss the alluring doctor overcame Brad faster than a California hills’ wildfire, and the need to possess the mouth of this man burst upon him with unreasoning desire. The taste of Chase’s lips exploded in his mouth, and he wanted more. This kiss was the most reckless and out of control thing that he had ever done, yet it felt more right than a thousand kisses with women.
Chase’s natural masculine scent, unfettered by colognes, laced with the clean yet faint aroma of soap, was a feast. Thoughts to explore every inch of this luscious man’s body consumed Brad. All the things he should have experienced when kissing a woman and didn’t—overwhelming desire and the need to touch the body of another—consumed him. It was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. It’s what he’d been missing all his life.
The scrape of Chase’s stubble surprised him, but he liked it. It prickled his skin in delicious ways and sent sparks through his body. Yes, he most definitely would like more of this, but Chase pulled away. It struck Brad that he may have been too aggressive. He grimaced and looked down at his hands.
“Sorry, if—”
Chase shook his head. His eyes appeared glazed, as if he experienced a shock. Damn it. Brad didn’t want Chase to feel terrible about his sudden burst of passion.
“No, don’t apologize. I just didn’t expect—”
Brad’s mouth became dry, and his chest tightened, so he took a sip of his whiskey. The sharp tang of the liquor forced him to breathe. But he regretted drinking the booze because it washed out the taste of Chase from Brad’s mouth.
“I just—”
Chase ran his hand through his hair. “No. It was great, but I can’t.”
Can’t. There was that damned word again.
�
�Why? Are you seeing someone?”
Chase put his hand on his mouth and then rubbed his chin. “No. Nothing like that. I told you.”
“Doctor-patient thing.”
Chase nodded. “Yeah.” And then he shook it. “No.”
No? What, no? Did Brad cross a line he could not uncross? Had he irredeemably screwed his chances with Chase?
Dear God, I hope not.
“What do you mean?”
Chase pursed his lips. “I’ve spent all of my time and energy first in my studies and my work. I dated no one.”
“Oh, thank God,” said Brad with relief.
“Pardon?” said Chase incredulously. His green eyes flashed with disbelief.
“Well, I thought that you might not be gay, and I offended you.”
“Brad, I’d be an unenlightened doctor if I took offense.” Chase spoke sternly as if driving home a point.
Brad took another sip of his whiskey, then continued to stare into the plastic glass. He never made impulsive moves because the results were uncertain. He pursed his lips because he overstepped.
“Sorry,” said Chase.
“Yeah,” said Brad.
“No, I meant I did it again.”
“What?”
“I used the ‘doctor voice.’ I do it to put distance between me and sticky situations. What I am trying to relate to you is that I don’t trust myself here. You’re incredibly attractive, probably the fulfillment of a million fantasies.”
“Yeah?”
“But I have zero clues of what to do.”
Brad sat back in his seat and blew a breath. “Wow, that was honest.”
“The doctor-patient contravention is a real thing.”
“Contravention?”
“Sorry. That’s another weird thing about me. When I get keyed up, I use seven-dollar words.”
“Are you telling me when you get upset, you use bigger words?”
“Yeah.”
“That is weird.”
Chase laughed. “At least you’re honest about it.”
Brad gave a quick shake of his head, not sure what to say to Chase. No one, Terry included, spoke the naked truth as Chase did. It was a little too much to take in. To deflect, he pointed to Chase’s sandwich. “You should eat that. It’s getting cold.”
Chase quirked the corner of his mouth in confusion. Brad thought Chase’s befuddlement was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Then Chase poked the bread with his finger as if to verify its existence.
“It’s a cold sandwich,” said Chase.
“Funny how that works out,” said Brad with a smile.
Chase snorted and then chuckled. “That is the driest sense of humor I’ve ever heard. If you were a martini, you’d be all vermouth.”
Brad laughed too. “Yeah, that’s me. Vermouth man.”
Chase laughed again, all sunshine and light, with a glint in his green eyes, and Brad sucked in a breath in total awe of this beautiful man. When could he get another taste of him? The idea sent a rush of anticipation through Brad that lit his insides with a breathless need that would not subside.
The flight attendant came by again with another cart. “We’ll be dimming the lights for the rest of the flight. Would either of you like a blanket or a pillow?”
“That would be great,” said Chase. He looked at Brad. “It’s a little chilly by the bulkhead.”
“Ordinarily. Yes, I’ll take the same.”
“Very good.” She handed the items to the two and went to the next row. Chase offered one half of the sandwich to him.
“Here. I can’t eat all this myself.”
“All? That’s hardly a snack.”
“Here, take it,” insisted Chase. “Besides, you don’t know what’s waiting for us on that island. Who knows what food is available after the hurricane?”
“Does your mind always race ahead?”
“Usually. A hazard of the profession.”
Brad set down his whiskey on the tray before him and took the sandwich. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Chase bit into his half of the sandwich, and Brad did the same.
“Little dry,” Brad said.
“There’s this cup of mustard sauce,” said Chase.
“Not worth the trouble. Besides, I am a mayo-on-poultry man. Mustard is for hot dogs, ham, and pastrami.”
“All high-salt foods,” commented Chase.
Brad scoffed. “Do you never put the doctor thing away?”
Color rose in Chase’s face. “I would be remiss in my physician’s duties if I do not spout the party line on nutrition.”
Brad smiled. “Something tells me you don’t have enough fun.” And I’d like to help you have it. This last thought, Brad didn’t speak aloud. He sensed he was at a critical point with Chase. He must be patient with the doctor if Brad wanted to get anywhere with him.
Chase looked ahead and munched on his sandwich, deep in thought. It would be better if the doctor suggested they’d spend time together when they reached St. Croix. But considering Chase’s objections so far, Brad couldn’t count on it.
Chase took the last swallow of his sandwich. Brad could not believe how fast the man ate. It reminded Brad of one of his cousins that had gone into the Marines. When he returned, it took him seconds to bolt a meal. It was a habit they trained into the soldiers.
“Your drink is waiting for you,” said Brad.
“I don’t drink liquor,” said Chase.
“Any specific reason?”
“Yes, a personal one.”
Brad fell silent. He didn’t want to pry, though he would like to know Chase’s personal reason. The man shot a glance at him. “It’s not what you think. In college, during a fraternity rush, a friend of mine died of alcohol poisoning.”
Brad took a guess. “In front of you?”
Chase closed his eyes. “Yes. I had never felt so helpless in my life. He just had this seizure, and there was nothing I could do. After the funeral, I changed my major to pre-med and never looked back.”
“You changed your major to pre-med just like that?”
“I had to take an extra year to make up the prerequisites courses I missed in my first year, but yeah. If I could save lives, I would. If I could help someone not make stupid choices, then I’d do that too.”
“You liked that guy.”
“Well, sure.”
“I mean as more than a friend.”
Chase turned a haunted gaze to Brad. “I’ve told no one. How can you guess it so easily?”
“I can also guess you never told him either. So you’ve been suffering from the ‘what-might-have-beens’ all this time.”
“Again, how did you get so perceptive?”
“You don’t sit across a conference table to make million-dollar deals without having insights on what motivates people.”
“Is that what you do for work?”
“Partly. I help my father run his company.”
“And that would be?”
Brad cleared his throat. “Hunt Enterprises.”
Chase gave him an incredulous look. “The biggest conglomerate in Colorado?”
“Well, yes.”
“Wow.”
“It’s not that big a deal. And what you do is far more worthwhile. You saved my life. I’d say that was supremely important.”
Chase sighed. “I’m glad I did.” He crumpled the sandwich’s plastic wrap and put it on the plate. The lights dimmed overhead, and Brad reached out and took Chase’s hand.
“I’m glad you did, too. But even before you did, you wowed me.”
“How did I do that?”
“You were ahead of me in the Denver security line. And when I saw you, I had to turn away, or I couldn’t speak. I was on a phone call with my father.”
Chase peered at Brad’s hand clutching his, and Brad heard Chase’s breathing hitch.
“What do you plan to do with that hand?”
“I have a few ideas. They involve a blanket.”
<
br /> “A blanket?” Chase said in disbelief.
“Well, you must be cold sitting against that bulkhead.”
Chase nodded. “I am.”
“Well, here.” Brad spread Chase’s blanket across his lower half.
“That doesn’t do much for the upper part of my body,” said Chase.
“I’m sure things will get hot soon.” Brad spread his blanket to give cover for what he planned next. “Just relax.”
“I shouldn’t let—”
“Ssh,” said Brad soothingly. “You don’t want to alarm the flight attendants needlessly.” He inched his hand under the thin blanket, and feather-touched Chase’s thigh. He liked how Chase’s muscles bunched at that touch. A small noise escaped Chase’s throat, but he didn’t push Brad’s hand away.
Brad slid his hand upward, and his small head tingled at the ideas running through his mind. What would it be like to touch Chase’s cock? How would Chase react? Sucking on his lips, Brad moved his fingers across Chase’s cock and found it filled and thick. Swallowing hard, he stroked it through Chase’s pants. Chase sucked in a breath.
Brad leaned in. “This works best if you don’t make a sound.” Chase sucked on his lips and nodded his head. Brad palmed the thickness, and Chase shivered. Brad enjoyed the expressions playing on Chase’s face. Then the flight attendant stopped by their row. “Let me take that trash for you.” Brad froze and thought his heart would stop.
Amazingly, Chase opened his eyes and coolly handed the plate and his full whiskey glass.
“Sorry. Not my thing. And Brad has had enough.”
If she thought anything was amiss, it didn’t register on her face. She took the trash, including Brad’s empty drink glass, and continued down the aisle.
“Oh, hell,” muttered Brad.
Chase chuckled. “Had enough?”
“Of you? I’ve just begun.”
“Well, then.”
Brad fingered the button open on Chase’s khakis and pulled the zipper, then slipped his hand under the band of Chase’s underwear. He found the head of Chase’s cock wet, which made the next thing so much easier. He palmed the head, and Chase took a deep breath.
“Remember, no sound.”
With his eyes closed, Chase nodded once more. Brad gripped the man’s cock, which throbbed within the cradle of palm and fingers, and stroked it.