Eli

Well, if this isn’t serendipity.

The man I’ve been thinking about for weeks on end is here, looking hotter than ever in his cashmere sweater, the sleeves meticulously rolled up to expose the dark hair on his forearms. He looks like he could grace the covers of GQ or an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch. Or the centerfold of Hot Doctors, Inc.

He’s my wet dream in the flesh.

Unfortunately, all the signs I’ve read about Dr. Mark Olsen is that he may not be 100 percent straight, but he’s definitely not out. And that’s a big problem for me.

When I came out in my mid-teens, I wasn’t ashamed of who I was. It never occurred to me to keep my sexuality a secret. That’s not who I am or what I do. Unlike others I’ve been with in the past.

I get it, though. There is a reluctance and fear to be queer by some. Those who are out can face a shitload of contempt from others – including most of the state of Indiana – for being different than everyone else.

That’s where my last relationship ended. He hid me away from his family, the friends he grew up with and anyone outside of our small gay, social circle of friends. I could take it only for so long but decided in the end, I want to be with someone who was mature enough to face bigotry and condemnation head on without hiding like a scared rabbit.

I’m done with that shit now and I’m glad to have this fresh start in Boston, away from all the narrow-minded fucks who think being gay is wrong. Immoral. A sin. Those hypocritical shits can all go fuck themselves. I will never be afraid to be who I am and live the way I want to live.

I need to remind myself to be careful with this one, as I flirt unmercifully with Mark, because I sense he doesn’t share the same ideology. I will not get caught in the same trap I was in with Cody, my last partner.

Sitting next to him now, and speaking to him in the hallway earlier today, my Spidey-sense tells me I’m right about Mark. There are certain “tells” that gay men have that straight men don’t share. Sometimes it’s the glance, the extra second they take to look at you when others would have turned away.

Oftentimes it’s just ingrained in their mannerisms and style that make you take notice in that extra special way. The one that says, “I’m down to fuck if you are.”

And now, with Mark staring at me wide-eyed, his lips curved in a sensual smile, I see a glimpse into my future. Whether it’s just for the night or maybe a little longer, I’m uncertain. But it’s there, nonetheless. Just as we know the sun will rise each day, I know that Mark is attracted to me and I want to see how far to push to make it happen.

“I’m no stranger to getting what I want,” I finally reply to his pointed statement. “If I want something, I take it. I learned a long time ago it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than not get what you want. It’s a sad existence if you only play it safe and live with regret.”

Mark nods, his eyes drifting over me, the heat in his gaze starting a fire in my crotch. His jaw clenches and I notice his Adam’s Apple bobs when he swallows. The dark shadows of his cleanly shaven jawline, dark and thick, the beard quickly returning with his sexy five o’clock shadow.

I wonder what he would do if I ran my fingers over his stubbled cheek, starting at the base of his ear and ending at the pout of his bottom lip?

His voice is low and heavy with arousal, as if he read my inner thoughts just now. The sound swirls between us like a hint of Kentucky Bourbon. Warm and sensuous.

“What exactly do you want, Eli?”

My pulse skyrockets because I’m not about to sugarcoat this. That’s not my style. I lean in close to his shoulder so that my chin hits the top of his soft sweater.

“You.”

It’s all I say as I wait for his response, scanning his features to determine if I’ve missed the mark.

Ha. Missed the mark.

He shifts in his bar stool, a flush painting a swatch of color across his neck and face. I wonder if he wears that same color when he comes.

When I make him come.

The silence between us stretches on, leaving me worried that I’ve misread things. Leaning away just slightly to give the air of propriety, I place my palm over his exposed forearm. The connection causes a multitude of sparks to zip through my veins; sharp, sensual and downright serendipitous.

His arm is warm and the soft wispy hairs covering his flesh make we want to bury my nose in it. Place open mouth kisses across his forearm, removing his clothing along the way to uncover whether the hair on his arm is the same thickness and shade as the rest of his body.

Hairy men are my thing. I love the texture of a guy’s hairy chest and the swatches of hair between their legs. Their pubes. Over their ass. All of it.

My erection comes to life like a beast in need of food.

In for a penny in for a pound, they say. I’ve already started on this excursion, I might as well see about closing the deal.

As I glance up at the base of his throat to where his collarbone is visible, I see the dark, thick shadow of masculinity there, giving me confirmation that I’d find it everywhere on Mark Olsen. I clear my throat and speak in a hushed tone that clearly states my intention.

“I think you might want me, too, doc.” I add a wink for good measure.

Mark’s irises, generally the color of green earth, are blown wide and now brushed darker with lust. He sucks in that lush bottom lip of his, his gaze landing on my hand that still caresses his arm. If I was incorrect about my assumptions, Mark would’ve removed my hand by now and maybe even taken a swing at me. But he hasn’t – yet – so I’m compelled to see what he does next.

With a nervous expression, Mark scans the room, his head shifting left to right, searching for something. Maybe looking for the date that came with him. Or to confirm whether we’re being watched.

I’m about to ask him if he’s looking for something or if he’s trying to hide this from someone, when he returns his gaze back to me, his eyes glazed with lust, and simply states very clearly,

“I’m going to use the restroom.”

He stares at me for a beat more, giving me the signal I know to be true, before he swivels in his barstool and walks toward the back of the crowded room. Not once does he look back at me.

But I know.

My gut instinct was correct.

He wants me, too.

And I’m not about to pass up this opportunity – whatever it might be.

The excitement reverberates through my body as I stand and walk in the same direction he went. I catch a glimpse of Addie in the crowd and I give her a wave when she smiles and waves at me from afar.

The hallway is narrow and dimly lit with no one else around. The private party is all up front in the main bar area, so it’s quiet back here. Down the hallway is the back exit with the red sign illuminated above the door and on either side of me are the restroom doors.

A second before I push open the door, I imagine Dr. McHottie Olsen behind this closed door, waiting for me to do delicious things to him tonight. My dick throbs against the pleat of my zipper at the sheer possibility. The secret rendezvous and the sly nature of this hookup about to go down.

I walk through the door and my gaze is immediately drawn to Mark, standing at the sink, staring into the mirror, his hand tightly gripping the counter. His profile is gorgeous, hair sweeping over his forehead, cropped on the sides that convenes into a tailored jawline. Under the dim light, his expression appears tense.

Mark turns when he hears me come in. His expression of uncertainty pummels me like a fist to the gut. I remain with my back against the door, the sound of the lock snicking closed the only noise in the dank room.

“I don’t know about this...” he says his voice hesitant and rough. “I’ve never really done this before.”

I’m standing next to him in a flash, and squeezing my body between Mark and the vanity, taking his face in my hands and roughly cupping his cheeks. Then without a second thought, I kiss the ever-loving fuck out of him.

He’s uncertain? Well, that’s not gonna fly with me. He’s either in or out and uncertainty has no room between us.

I know what I want, who I want, and how I want it. And it’s to taste this man. To get down on my knees and worship his cock with everything I’ve got.

Mark tenses, his hands at his sides, his lips parted as if in surprise. As I take control, he soon joins in, and our kiss is hot, urgent and demanding. Without question one of the hottest I’ve ever had, and he immediately opens for me, so I can sweep my tongue over his teeth with deep, probing flicks. A moan of appreciation rolls off his tongue.

Dropping an arm and swinging it behind him, I grab his ass hard, tugging him against me with a grunt. The fullness of his cock presses against mine and I sigh in relief. A dangerous need to fuck this man hard and fast swells inside of me as the pressure becomes almost unbearable.

Mark’s body, rigid at first, has now relaxed with the knowledge that this is going to happen and he begins a slow grind against my thigh, as if his body has taken over where his mind was initially resistant; we’re chest-to-chest, cock-to-cock, mouth-to-mouth.

Pulling back, I let go of him suddenly, nodding sharply to the open stall.

“In there, now.” I command, my tone brooking no argument.

His brows lift in surprise. “You’re pretty bossy, aren’t you?”

I chuckle and slap his ass as he complies with my request.

“If you only knew the extent of it.”

I love the reaction this gets me as he stares at me slack jawed. My chuckle is low and deep, as I adjust my aching shaft and stalk toward him. He looks like a caged animal – a little petrified for what’s to come – and I convey the calmness of the predator on the hunt.

When I step in the stall, I crowd his body with mine, caging him in, pressing him against the brick wall. It’s an old, Boston pub, probably turn of the century, with architecture that was made to stand the test of time.

Or the test of our sexual potency that’s about to combust from our explosive chemistry.

I reach behind him and grab one ass cheek, squeezing and plumping it in my grip. I throw the other arm around the back of his neck, so I have a firm hold at the base. I’m not letting him go until I get what I want. Until he knows how much I want him.

“You’re all I’ve thought about since I stepped into your OR, doc.”

I grunt, taking a moment to nuzzle my lips at the base of his neck and nip along the smooth expanse of skin there, sipping at every delectable inch until I reach his earlobe. I swipe my tongue around the shell of his ear and then bite at the fleshy soft tissue of his lobe. His moan reverberates off the walls around us and I nearly lose my load like an inexperienced virgin.

He arches into me, our cocks aligned and hard, both in search of the same thing. Friction. Relief. Satisfaction. The intensity of our need supersedes everything else clamoring for our attention outside these four walls.

I continue to kiss and nip while his fingers slide into my hair on each side of my face, guiding me to the spots he likes. Honestly, I don’t need help because his husky moans tell me exactly where he seems to enjoy my mouth. I drop my hands to his beltline, tugging at the soft material so neatly and carefully tucked into his pants.

I snicker to myself at how different we are. Mark, the prim and proper; the perfectly groomed image of an esteemed doctor. And me, a little ruffled, unkept, maybe even a bit bohemian for his taste.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, as his hand covers mine over his belt buckle that I’m working to undo.

Our gazes lock and I see there’s concern etched in his half-lidded eyes.

“Nothing. I’m just pleasantly surprised this is happening. I normally have a pretty spot-on gaydar, but I couldn’t get an accurate read on you. You sent me mixed signals.”

The buckle comes undone with a metal clank, as I pop the button and slide the zipper down to open the plackets of his slacks, exposing the place I want to be. Where he wants me to be.

When I run a fingernail over the hard bulge, Mark sucks in a breath between his teeth, a cross between pleasure and fear.

My progress is thwarted with a firm hold of my wrist.

“Eli,” he clears his throat and his body stiffens under my touch. “This...whatever this is...only happens here. Not outside those doors. No one else can know.”

Mark looks off over my shoulder and bites his lip guiltily, but still manages to look sexy. Using my finger to turn his chin back to me, I pin him with a stare.

“Hey man, I got you. Your secret isn’t mine to share. If this is just for tonight, that’s cool. I just want to be with you, okay?”

Mark seems to think about this for a second, his fingers sliding through the hair on both sides of my temple again. His touch elicits a feeling of intimacy, a physical connection I haven’t had with anyone in far too long.

If I didn’t need to get off so bad, I’d stand here all night and let them run his hands through my hair over and over again. For as long as he wanted. It’s intoxicating.

As if he’s reached a conclusion, Mark sighs, bending down to close the gap between our mouths and places his lips against mine. It’s gentle at first, with a few firm pecks until I open for him and he opens for me. His tongue runs the seam of my lips, finding my tongue as we move together in slow motion.

“Just tonight, Eli. Only tonight.”

While I may not agree with him, because this feels too damn good to give up, I know he has his reasons. Mark is not my direct boss, per se, but in terms of hospital hierarchy he is my superior and we have to work together. I’m not naïve enough to think that after tonight it’s going to be a thousand times more difficult to keep my hands off him or veer my dirty thoughts away from the hot doctor in the operating room.

Slipping a hand underneath his cashmere sweater and button down, I trace the trail of soft, fuzzy hair that leads up to his navel, circling around it twice, before flattening out and exploring the terrain of his chest. The man is a living-breathing-walking sculpture.

Who knew the hot doctor’s lab coat was covering up such fine torso all this time?

I bite my lip to keep from blurting what I really want to say, which is, “no fucking way,” but give in to his request. It’s the only way to prevent this from ending right now and Mark leaving me high and dry. Leaving me without ever finding out what sounds he makes when he gets off.

“Fine,” I capitulate with a nip of his swollen bottom lip. “Just tonight.”