“Do it,” I breathe, needing this.
A moment passes, and just when I think he may actually lean in and seal his mouth to mine, I hear it.
The heavy thud from feet on the stairs.
In a flash, William rolls back to an appropriate distance, putting some space between us seconds before my dad steps into my doorway. He grins when he sees us. “How’s it going in here?” he asks. “How’s the shoulder looking?”
Clearing his throat, William looks back at my father. “It’s looking good. Thankfully, I don’t think he pulled anything or injured himself further.” Glancing back at me, he adds, “But you got lucky. I wouldn’t suggest doing that again. I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t rush a recovery like this. I understand how frustrating this must feel, and how bad you want to get back out there, but you’re risking doing more damage the more you push yourself.”
I grit my teeth as I look away, nodding. “Got it, Doc.”
“I would continue using the heating pad as needed, and take it easy. This is a marathon, Colt. Not a race.”
“Thanks for coming out, Will,” my dad adds in.
Rising off the chair, William spares me one final glance before he leaves the room. “It’s no trouble,” he tells my dad as he brushes by him, patting him on the shoulder.
Staring at the spot in the doorway where they just were, I can’t help but feel both frustrated and elated at the same time.
He almost fucking kissed me.
13
William Andino
Memories flit behind my closed eyelids. A sultry slideshow displaying miles of smooth, toned, bare skin, rough, calloused hands roaming over my flesh, hot breath against my neck, goosebumps blooming along my limbs, and sweet, guttural groans, both mine and his. The feel of his body pressed up against mine, his cock hard and perfectly aligned with mine. His hand wrapped around us tightly, and the spit leaving his mouth to coat our lengths. The slick feel of his palm sliding up and down us both. Electricity pulsing just below the surface, soaring through my veins and invading my mind.
The darkness of the room, only the faint glow of the streetlights, the feel of the barely used bedding beneath my body, the hungry look in his eyes as he alternates his dark gaze between my face and where we slide in and out of his grip. The veins protruding from his forearm, the bulge in his bicep, the sharp point of his dusky nipples.Everything.The heavy beating of my heart against my ribs, the heat pooling low in my spine,the tingle through my limbs. All of it is so vivid in my mind, as if it were just yesterday.
“Look at you writhing beneath me,”he spoke through gritted teeth.“Your cock feels so fucking good against mine.”
Soapy and slick, I wrap my fist around my length, squeezing at the base as I slap my other hand against the cool, wet tile on the wall. My head hangs between my shoulders, water streaming over my head and sluicing down my back. I pump my cock the way I remember Colt doing it that night. I’m the one touching myself, but behind my eyes, it’s him. It’s always him lately. Since getting back into town, Colt plagues my mind, and I don’t know how to get him out of there. His cocky smirk, that damn backwards hat he always wears, the deep gruffness of his voice, his tight, tan body. Everything about him drives me wild, and I can’t seem to help myself. It’s like I’m twenty years younger and can’t seem to satiate myself fast enough.
I’ve made myself come to our time spent together more times than I can count in the weeks since my return. As with most adults, the older and more busy I’ve become, the lower my sex drive has gotten, but now it’s like I can’t get enough. I don’t understand what’s gotten into me.
That’s a lie. I absolutely know what’s gotten into me… So, here I am, starting my day by stroking my cock at seven in the morning in my shower, fantasizing about the man I shouldn’t be. I’m a fiend.
The room was dark; I barely even got a good look at him, but he’s burned into my brain. Every sharp line, every muscle and curve, even the filthy way he talked me through it all. Colt took control, and it’s something I wasn’t used to. All of my previous sexual partners, male and female, have always been on the more submissive side. It was always me making thefirst moves, calling the shots. Not with him. That night, I was wholly under Colt’s spell, and it made the entire experience that much hotter. He wasn’t shy, wasn’t intimidated. He was sure and steady, and it was sexy to experience.
A bolt of lust shoots down my spine, burying itself low in my groin as I fuck my fist faster. My heart is pounding, my blood is pumping hot, and my chest is heaving with my shallow, desperate breaths. I’m so close, my body’s on fire. I need to come. If I had it my way, my fist would be replaced with Colt’s lips as he kneeled before me in this shower stall. I allow myself to imagine how it would be to take him right here, knowing someone was downstairs. The risk of potentially being heard sends a molten heat to the base of my spine. Similarly to how I almost kissed him the other day, knowing his dad—my best friend—was just downstairs. The visual has my balls tightening into my body, and before I know it, my dick pulses, spilling my load down the drain. My release seizes my muscles, and I have to clench my jaw tightly to keep from crying out. Wave after wave rolls through me as I pump the last drop from my cock.
Disappointment floods my system almost immediately, like it always does when I allow myself to get swept away by the lust I feel from remembering that night.
Slapping my hand against the wall, I curse out under my breath before finishing up my shower.
I pull into the arena,checking the time on the dash and seeing that I have about a ten minutes before I need to head inside and start setting up. It’s the second free clinic this morning, and I’m excited for the most part. The first time was such a success that I can’t wait to see what type of turnoutwe have today. In addition to feeling excited, though, I’m also a little anxious. Assuming Colt comes today like he said he would, this’ll be the first time we’ve seen each other since I reassigned him to Doug. It was a shitty thing to do without notifying Colt first, especially since Meg told me he seemed upset about it when he found out. To make matters worse, I told Meg it had slipped my mind to tell Colt because of how busy I had been this week.
That’s a lie; it didn’t slip my mind. I purposely avoided telling him because I didn’t want to deal with the backlash, and in doing so, my staff has to deal with the brunt of it. The truth is, being near Colt intimidates me, which doesn’t make any sense. He’s nearly half my age; what he thinks, does, or says should have no effect on me, but it does.
The shower this morning barely took the edge off, and knowing I’m going to be face to face with him soon isn’t helping either.
When I can’t put it off any longer, I turn off my car and climb out. Once inside, I notice that Doug and Meg aren’t here yet, so I begin setting up by myself. I also notice that Colt isn’t here. Although, if the first time is anything to go off of, he’ll arrive closer to the time the doors open. Probably better that way. The less time we spend alone together, the better.
Over the next ten minutes, volunteers start trickling in, including Meg and Doug. We get set up, and it isn’t until a minute before the doors get unlocked that Colt saunters in, steps full of swagger that’s all him. It takes me a second to realize what’s different about him… It’s the sling; he’s not wearing it. Sitting behind the check-in desk beside Meg, he turns to her and smiles before they get started checking patients in. It doesn’t take long for a line to form, people pouring in as the minutes drag on.
As Colt checks people in, Meg takes them to one of the makeshift designated rooms, which is really just a hospital bed and a chair surrounded by a privacy curtain. It’s about five minutes before she steps out and hands the file off to me. Stepping into the room, I’m met with a woman in her early twenties.
“Good morning, Ms. Michaelson,” I greet as I take a seat in the chair in front of her. “I’m Dr. Andino, and I’ll be taking care of you today.
