Chapter 13

After coordinatingwith the rest of the team, Dix set an alarm on his phone. They'd have time in the morning for a good breakfast before heading back to the airport. He also asked Jazz about the rooms she'd booked. She said everyone got a room with a King, because it was more economical, then asked if it was a problem. He assured her it wasn't, that he had just been a little surprised. So now he was in a room, with Doc, who was looking sleepy, and Dix wanted to tuck him in so bad.

I can do this. I can spend a night with Doc and behave myself.

Even if it was torture.

It was Doc's turn for a shower, and Dix lay in bed, listening to the sounds emanating from the bathroom and trying not to imagine how Doc looked with the water beating down on him.

Trying not to think about using his tongue to trace the path of a drop of water that slid down Doc's chest.

Trying not to picture Doc's widened eyes and sharp gasp when Dix tugged on Doc's taut nipple with his teeth.

Fuck, he was hard as a rock, and?—

The bathroom door opened, and Dix rolled onto his stomach in a heartbeat, wincing as the erection he was attempting to hide was crushed between his body and the super-firm mattress. Fuck, that hurts. At least maybe the damn thing would finally go down. He turned his head to watch as Doc walked around to his side of the bed, his slender form swimming in one of the hotel bathrobes. And just like that, his dick hardened even more, if such a thing were possible. He ached to prop himself up against a mound of pillows so he could watch Doc strip off the robe.

He'd probably do it nice and slow, maybe even seductive in an unwitting kinda way. A hint of pale skin, nothing more, revealed in Doc's customary shy, sweet, awkward manner.

And undoubtedly it would be the fucking hottest thing Dix had ever seen.

Doc drew back the sheets, still adorned in his thick, fluffy covering.

"You gonna sleep in that bathrobe, Doc?" Dix hated the way his voice croaked.

Doc stilled. "What? No. I didn't bring my pajamas, so I hope it'll be okay if I sleep in my underwear."

Pajamas? That wouldn't do at all. Too many layers to peel off.

For fuck's sake, will you get your mind out of Doc's pants?

"Sure, underwear is fine."

Doc bent over to retrieve his briefs from the floor and slid them on underneath the robe, his back to Dix.

I shouldn't be staring.

But God, he wanted to see. Then Doc removed the robe, folded it, and put it on the chair.

The sight didn't disappoint. He was skinny, sure. Too many missed meals would do that to a person. But his pale skin glowed after his shower, and Dix worried he'd swallow his tongue if he kept looking.

Turn over. Stop this. Right now.

He rolled onto his side, tearing his gaze away from the tempting sight. "Flight is at eight in the morning, so get some sleep." Then he pulled the blanket up to his neck, aware of the slight dip as Doc got into bed. "Good night, Doc."

Without waiting for a response, he flicked off the light, plunging the room into utter darkness, thanks to the drawn curtains. The place was surprisingly quiet, although a few voices drifted in from somewhere in the hallway. While Dix was relieved Doc had changed his mind about sleeping in the chair, the situation presented a challenge. He lay still, not daring to move, waiting to hear the change in Doc's breathing. Because there was no way Dix could sleep in his present state, and he wasn't about to rub one out if there was the remotest chance Doc would cotton on to what he was doing.

Try. Close your eyes and try to sleep.

It was better than the alternative, he supposed. He closed his eyes, willing his erection to die.

Fat chance—almost as fat as his cock.

He glanced at the soft blue glow from the clock on the nightstand. Nearly eleven, and sleep was still proving elusive. His dick was also proving stubborn.

Iron would be lucky to be this hard.

He could get up and go to the chair, but what kept him in the bed was Doc, so close that it was all he could do to not reach out and touch him.

So much for ignoring it and hoping it would go away of its own volition. Dix was left with one option—relieve some of the pressure.

He hooked his thumbs in his underwear and slid them down. He wished he could remove them completely, but that would require too much movement, which would be sure to rouse Doc. As soon as the fabric passed over his cock, it sprang up, solid and clearly happy to be released from its cotton prison. Dix reached down and stroked over the skin with his index finger, not surprised to find it slick with precum. He knew what he wished he could do—grab it and go to town, pumping for all he was worth, until he shot the massive load he knew was churning in his balls—but that was out of the question.

This called for patience, and Dix would be the first to admit that wasn't something he possessed much of. Still, if he wanted to get off, there were rules he needed to follow, and the first was?

Don't wake the good doctor.

Dix continued to rub, dipping his finger into the slit and coating it with some of the man-made lube, which he then spread over the heated flesh. The sheets got in the way, so he moved slowly, so fucking slowly, peeling them back until at last his cock stood upright. He had visions of the cool air reacting to his superheated flesh in a release of steam.

What is it about Doc that entrances me so?

He couldn't remember another person ever having this effect on him, but he didn't regret it in the least. He was proud to be the kind of guy who could admit to having feelings, but in the present circumstances, that made him more than a little nervous.

Think about that later. Something needs your attention right now, remember?

He reached down and stroked the stony shaft before giving it a gentle squeeze. Fuck, this was maddening. He wanted to moan Doc's name as he fantasized about the two of them in Dix's room, with Doc smiling at him.

Oh, Doc. If you only knew.

He curved his hand around his stiff cock, sliding it up and down, conscious of keeping arm movement to a minimum.

I shouldn't be doing this.

What do I say if Doc wakes up and asks me what's going on over here?

What if he flicks the light on while I'm jerking off?

How do I explain that?

This was the first time he'd been close enough that the sweet scent of Doc's skin filled his nostrils, and it had him achingly hard. Hell, he hadn't been this horny since he was a kid and saw Whit Abbott skinny dipping.

Please don't wake up.

Please don't wake up.

Please don't wake up.

Josh tracedthe vein in his cock, biting his lip to prevent even the slightest sound from escaping.

I shouldn't be doing this.Not when Dixon was so close. Dixon, who always seemed to know exactly what Josh was doing, even thinking. But it was Dixon's proximity that had Josh touching himself, stroking, pulling, tugging, and all the while his senses were hyperalert for any sign Dixon was not sleeping, but was in fact lying there and listening to minute sounds only dogs were aware of. The bed was huge, but Josh swore he could feel the heat radiating off Dixon's body.

Then Dixon inhaled, and Josh froze.

Oh God, please don't wake up. Please.

Josh held his breath, and Dixon fell silent again.

I can't do this. If I ignore it, it'll go away.

His damned erection had other ideas, standing proud, refusing to wilt even under the threat of discovery.

I could help it a little. Just this once.

It wasn't something Josh did, not even as a teenager. For the longest time, he'd believed himself to be a freak. Every boy he'd known had seemed to be on a mission to get into the record books with how often they jerked off. How did they not suffer from the shame and guilt that threatened to crush Josh when he so much as thought about the act, let alone carried it out? An act that held little interest for him, even if he'd studied the basics.

Then he'd done a little research, and the results relieved him greatly.

He wasn't alone. Some kids never masturbated. Both those who did and those who didn't had to deal frequently with the same shame Josh struggled with.

And right then, he had to do something.

Josh stroked and squeezed, stroked and squeezed, keeping his movements to a bare minimum, until a wave of pleasure crashed into him, and he shot hard, his fist jammed into his mouth. He froze, the come dripping from his fingers, listening for any sign he'd been found out, but….

Nothing.

His heartbeat slipped back into its normal rhythm. He couldn't believe he'd done that, but worse? He hadn't planned for a cleanup at all.

Now what do I do?

Hesitantly, he brought his fingers to his lips. He knew the facts: semen contained small amounts of more than thirty elements, including fructose, ascorbic acid, cholesterol, creatine, citric acid, lactic acid, nitrogen, vitamin B12, and various salts and enzymes.

So if nothing else, it should be healthy, right?

He girded himself for the taste, then gave a tentative lick.

Whoa.

It wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was both a little sweet and a bit salty, not unlike the candy he'd gotten on a trip to Australia. He lapped up every trace, making sure he made no noise. Beside him, Dixon slept on, oblivious to what had just occurred.

Thank God. At least Josh would be able to face him in the morning.

He closed his eyes and forced his mind to clear.

Well, now I know what I've been missing out on all these years.

Except there was a ton of stuff to add to that list.

Maybe it was time to work his way through it.

Dix grabbedhis underwear and used it as a rag to wipe the last traces of come from his stomach.

How long has it been since I last had time to jack off? At least a few weeks, since he'd been Doc's bodyguard that long. And this had been an amazing orgasm. Maybe there was something to be said for a little abstinence now and then. More importantly, it would help him fall asleep.

Then he froze.

Wait. What was that noise?

He strained to listen, certain he'd heard something in the quiet room. It had almost sounded like a moan. A stifled moan, sure, but….

Did I imagine it?

He didn't want to turn the light on, fearing it would wake Doc—and worse still, reveal exactly what Dix had been doing. He lay there in the dark, not daring to move a muscle, but concentrating, listening for any stray sounds. Doc rolled over with a soft sigh, which was followed by snuffles, then light snores.

And still Dix listened, even when Doc's breathing made it obvious he was fast asleep. After several minutes had passed, he realized why he was so focused on Doc's state.

Did I want him to hear me?

What if Doc had heard him and worked out what was happening?

Oh God. Now there was a thought.

Doc inching a little closer and whispering in the dark, "I could help you with that." Dix taking Doc in his hand, finally getting to touch that skin he was so enthralled with. Maybe it could have become more. Mutual blow jobs. Sixty-nine. Doc on his back, his legs wrapped around Dix, pleading for more.

Then he dismissed that idea. Doc was a client, and messing with someone you were guarding never went well.

But what if?

Dix hated what-iffers as a rule, but his mind had taken him on a journey that was too delicious to ignore. What if Doc had listened in? What if he'd been turned on too?

Oh Lord, the possibilities….

Dix closed his eyes. In his head he was on his knees, taking Doc into his mouth. He could almost feel hard flesh between his lips, on his tongue, could almost taste him. Would Doc enjoy it? Would he be repulsed? How exactly did geniuses view sex, anyway? A necessary evil? Something to study? Would he rate Dix's performance?

That stopped him in his tracks.

Oh God, would I be able to get an A from the teacher?

His mind went off on a tangent, taking him down several roads, each with a different destination: Doc as a teacher, Dix his unruly student; Dix as a cop, and Doc an unrepentant speeder, to be bent over the hood and taken, pants around his ankles; Doc as a pizza delivery boy, and Dix the customer who'd asked for extra sausage.

His cock was making a valiant effort to rise again.

Son of a bitch.

He had to do something or he'd go crazy. Getting laid was no longer a matter of fun.

It was now a matter of life and death.