Bad Case of Loving You

Seagate threw marshmallows at him, then Andrew strode past me, muttering, “I’ve got twenty minutes, think we can manage it?”

I took off after him. “No problems,” I said, pushing past the gaggle of nurses at the cafeteria entrance.

Chapter Eighteen

The Rottweiler was painting her nails at her desk as I pushed open the door to the offices, Matthew right behind me. I took the handful of messages she thrust at me, tiny slivers of red crescents marking them, and said over my shoulder to Matthew as I led him to my office, “I’m not happy about this, Blake. I hadn’t planned on spending my lunch break dealing with your crises.”

“Sorry, Dr. Maynard,” Matthew said, plaintively. “It’s a family matter…”

I unlocked my door, ignoring the beady eyes that had followed us down the hall. “In you go,” I said, holding the door for Matthew.

There was a lock on my office door, but it only worked from the outside, presumably cunningly arranged by the hospital to stop its staff from having sex on company time, but I closed my blinds, then wedged rolled up photocopies firmly under the door. Of course, if I was a consultant, my office would lock from the inside, and then I, too, could disconnect the smoke detector and smoke joints in it.

When I slid my hands around the back of Matthew’s neck and pulled him close, Matthew said, “You’re not serious about this, are you?”

“Oh, yeah,” I murmured against his ear. “Completely serious. I’m not going to see you until Monday at the earliest…” I kissed his neck, sliding my lips across his skin, inhaling the scent of him. “Not that I wouldn’t rather be safely in bed with you, preferably at my place where there are no drunken housemates, but I’d settle for your place if I had to.”

Matthew’s hands pulled the stethoscope from around my neck and tossed it onto the floor. I made a mental note to tell him how much a Littman digital cost one day, then his hands were unbuckling my trousers, and I had to bite my lip to stifle my moan.

Fuck it. I could always buy another stethoscope.

He was hard, too, and I could feel the bead of his piercing through his trousers, then my hands were sliding inside his trousers, and he was there, rock hard in my hands.

He kissed me deep, long and hard, and I pushed his trousers and underwear down roughly, then picked him up and deposited him on top of the mess on my desk. Stuff fell off the sides, coffee cups and paper and books, and I bent down and rummaged around in my briefcase for lube and condoms.

He rolled his own condom on, easing it over the beads, then I took him into my mouth; deep, long, and hard, too, his moans muffled by his hand. This was good, more than good, and I ignored the footsteps in the hall outside and the sound of traffic coming through the window glass.

What mattered was this, and right then I would have given anything to really taste Matthew, for him to come in my mouth. I thought of platitudes, and discarded them, and eased my fingers between Matthew’s thighs, into the creases and grooves of his body. Over the acrid latex, I could smell him so clearly, his sweat thick and cloudy, and slick under my fingers.

He spread his legs, more than enough invitation for me, so I grabbed examination gloves from the box on my desk. They weren’t as good as sterile gloves, but I wasn’t planning on leaving the office to hunt some down. I cupped his balls, toyed with his raphe briefly, just a brush of a finger, then pressed fingertips against his ass.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Cecelia next door was singing ‘Killing Me Softly,’ and it occurred to me that Fox and Gimbel would probably kill her, and not very softly, for what she was doing to their precious song.

I wasn’t going to push my fingers inside Matthew, not without lube, and when I lifted my mouth from his cock he was holding the lube ready for me.

Fuck, he was so beautiful, lips parted, tip of his tongue showing, and I kept my eyes on his face while I pushed two fingers slowly inside him.

You think I’d be over the wonder of this, considering it was pretty much what I did professionally, but Matthew whimpered and pouted and kissed me, and I could have spent all day on that desk, finger-fucking him slowly until we both went insane, but we were under time constraints here, and the insanity needed to happen faster than that.

The feeling of the latex rolling down my cock was almost enough to make me scream, then Matthew smeared lube down the length of my cock.

“I’m ready,” he whispered, and he lay back across my desk Cecelia was murdering John Denver next door, proving herself remarkably sentimental for an oncologist. “…true yesterday la la tomorrow is open la la seems to la la just to be…” she sang, and I pushed slowly into Matthew, infinitesimally slowly, and then there was that moment where the head of my cock eased into him.