A/N: Several issues come to a "head" (so to speak - ha!) in this chapter, some good, some not so good... Combination smut/angst alert ahead...!
Brian's Loft – 30 minutes later
"Okay, tell me again why I let you talk me into this." Brian grunted as he toted in two heavy paper grocery bags and unceremoniously dropped them onto the kitchen island.
"So I could pay you back for driving me over to the hospital," Justin reminded him as he stood up on his tiptoes and peeked inside one of the bags to retrieve the package of boneless chicken breasts. "I know we got cornstarch," he said, frowning slightly as he began to rummage through some of the other grocery items in search of the small-sized bag.
Brian watched in amusement for a few moments before he easily retrieved the small container of cornstarch at the bottom of the other grocery sack and placed it down on the countertop. "Here you go, Emeril," he said teasingly as Justin glared at him. He curled his lips under before adding, "I'm sorry – would you prefer Florence instead?"
Justin rolled his eyes. "Just find me the Swiss cheese, okay? And I need the ham – you should be familiar with that."
Brian chuckled softly at Justin's impertinence as he pulled out the bottle of white wine first, and then located the two items Justin needed. As he handed them to his companion, he grimaced. "A screw top on a wine bottle, Florence? Have I taught you nothing about good taste?" He reached down and possessively squeezed Justin's cock through his jeans as a soft moan erupted from the perfectly-formed pink lips in response. "I thought I already demonstrated the proper use for a screw, and it's not for a wine bottle."
Justin flushed as a heated sensation flooded his body. "Well, I'm sorry if this disturbs your sensibilities, Mr. Kinney, but I didn't see a need to spend fifty bucks on a bottle of zinfandel for chicken cordon bleu." He pulled away slightly from Brian before he forgot how to make his dish completely and deliberately concentrated on retrieving the rest of his ingredients from the two grocery bags instead, walking over to place what he would need on the counter area next to the stove.
Leaning his long body against the kitchen island, Brian unscrewed the top of the wine bottle and took a presumptive swig as he watched Justin preparing to fix their dinner, fascinated at how graceful and fluid the other man's movements were, even while performing such a mundane task. His mind couldn't help wandering to a vision of how 'graceful' his guest had been last night, also, while their bodies had rocked together as one in the throes of several rounds of passion. Now that he and Justin had finally made love, he was finding it hard to keep his hands off him when they were anywhere near each other; it was like some sort of sickness, some addiction that he had. He could feel his cock twitching with appreciation as Justin bent over to pull out the metal drawer located beneath the oven to look for a large pot in which to prepare their meal, providing him with a perfect vista of his incredible ass.
"Uh… How long will it take to prepare this masterpiece, Chef?" he managed to say finally. "And, by the way, where in the fuck did you learn to cook, anyway? I wouldn't think someone on your salary – at least your old salary – could afford such extravagant dishes."
Justin flicked his wrist to turn the knob on for the front burner of Brian's stove as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at him and smiled. "My mom's a really good cook, and this is her signature dish. She's served it so many times, I know it by heart. It's really not that hard; it'll just need to simmer for about 30 minutes after I get the chicken prepared for the pot." He reached over to the bottle of olive oil nearby and poured a small amount into the preheating pan.
Brian put the wine bottle down on the counter to slowly approach him from behind and slide his arms around the slender waist, inhaling the musky, enticing scent of his lover as his breath on Justin's neck created a slight shiver in the other man. He could feel Justin's initial jolt of startled surprise before he leaned back willingly into his arms. "Well, that may not be hard, but something else is," he whispered in Justin's ear as his tongue came out and began to lick a circular, leisurely path around the fleshy lobe; he knew Justin wouldn't have any problems ascertaining just what was hard as he pulled the blond's body firmly against his. "And I don't need any simmering – I'm already on full boil right now."
Justin couldn't help snickering at the outright sexy but humorous statement; he was at once highly amused and enormously turned on as his body temperature began to quickly rise along with the burner's. "Yes, I can see that," Justin replied a little breathlessly. "Or should I say feel that." Trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand but finding it extremely difficult with Brian's body practically plastered against his, he struggled to ask, "Where are your tongs?"
"Thongs?" Brian asked cheekily.
Justin flushed merely at the thought of Brian wearing something like that; of course, it still paled next to his lover wearing nothing at all, but just the idea of peeling a pair of skin-tight thongs off his glorious body that was presently glued to his was enough to ramp up his temperature even more. "No, you asshole, I said tongs," he struggled to say as Brian chuckled, obviously proving he had heard him correctly the first time. "I need something to pick the chicken up with."
Brian didn't move as he merely told him, "Top drawer to your right. Don't mind me, though – I'll just stay right here and watch the master chef at work." He was enjoying the feel of Justin in his arms too much to break off their embrace just yet.
Justin grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself. Now that he had a brand new job with a brand new salary, and best of all had the attention of an incredibly sexy man to boot, he was feeling almost delirious with bliss. Perhaps he would need to go to the hospital himself to be checked out… Later, though… Much later.
He reached over to pull open the narrow top drawer to the right of the stove and locate the tongs. Placing them down next to the package of fresh chicken breasts, he smiled. "Uh… I need a couple of medium-sized bowls now," he told his companion. "I don't suppose that's within reaching distance, too?"
In response, Brian silently reached over his head with one hand and opened the top cabinet directly above the silverware drawer, snagging two white, everyday Corelle mixing bowls and placing them down next to the carton of eggs.
Justin shook his head in amazement; Brian had managed to do that with one hand still firmly wrapped around his waist and had barely moved from his position. He supposed there was a definite advantage to being tall and lean. He tried once more to concentrate on his culinary task as he felt Brian take his free hand and slowly slide it down his right shoulder and arm, his touch feather light but creating goose bumps on his skin. He quickly flipped open the egg carton's top and reached in to grab one of the eggs and crack it against the counter edge to open it and pour the contents into the bowl, throwing the shell back into the container.
He was about to open up the package of flour and mix it in the other bowl with the paprika when he felt Brian fidgeting behind him; every time his crotch moved side to side against his ass, his own cock sprung more and more to life. He sighed in exasperation. "Brian," he whispered in amusement, his voice catching despite his irritation. "Your dick keeps getting in the way of my dinner."
Brian chuckled in his ear as both hands began an exploration of his ass cheeks now. "Well, maybe you'd better just take care of it first so it will behave for a while." He began to nuzzle Justin's neck now, his lips roaming softly over the pale flesh as Justin found himself arching his neck away from his pursuit, subconsciously allowing Brian easier access to his target.
He couldn't help reaching back to place his right hand against Brian's cheek as he snorted. "I don't think it knows how to behave." He heard Brian chuckle slightly as the other man's lips slowly traveled up to his other cheek to give him a kiss there. "Can't it wait for just a few more minutes? Then it will have my ass's undivided attention."
"Promise?" Brian whispered against his ear as his hands began to knead the ass in question; Justin had a feeling that any second now those talented hands would be snaking inside his pants to get an even more up close and personal inspection.
He shivered at the hot breath against his skin. "Yes, I promise, I promise!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "Now, go make yourself useful somewhere else so I can concentrate here," he chided him as he pushed back against him to jar him loose.
Brian laughed softly. He gave Justin one more kiss on the cheek before he finally removed his hands from his companion and sighed. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly. "I'll go make some calls to Kinnetik to make sure nobody's fucked up my accounts. You, though, have fifteen minutes before I promise you WON'T be standing…" He walked over to a drawer directly to the left of the kitchen sink and pulled out a white, circular-shaped timer, turning the knob to set it at precisely fifteen minutes. Justin gave him a puzzled look, no doubt wondering why he even possessed such a contraption; it certainly didn't appear that Brian had a culinary bone in his body. As the device began to tick off the time, his companion arched his eyebrows at the blond and in his best scolding, schoolmarm voice explained to him, "Just in case you want to cheat or something."
Justin grinned as Brian walked toward the kitchen island nearby and, picking up his cell phone, ambled over to the living room couch and promptly plopped down with his long legs on the coffee table. A few seconds later he heard him speaking to someone on the phone about one of his accounts.
He sighed in contentment; he felt so damned lucky. Not only did he have a wonderful new job working with the children that he adored, he had somehow managed to attract a man who could have anyone he wanted, and he wanted him. His pulse began to race in anticipation as he heard Brian calling out to him shortly afterward, "Tick, tick, tick, Florence."
Justin laughed as he quickly secured a piece of Swiss cheese and ham slice to each chicken breast with toothpicks and coated them with the egg and the flour mixture, dropping each piece into the oiled pan. He stood there for a few minutes, waiting impatiently for one side to brown and then the other before he located the matching lid in the drawer underneath and covered it. He turned the heat down for it to simmer for the next thirty minutes just in time to hear the timer's bell going off, not only signaling that his preparation time was up but also no doubt signaling that something else was about to heat up instead.
Sure enough, no sooner had the bell gone off than he heard Brian say from close by, "Ding, ding, time's up."
He turned around and his heart stopped in his throat; Brian was leaning lazily against one of the loft's massive steel beams from a few feet away, wearing nothing but a smirk on his face as his eyes bored into his. Justin's gaze couldn't help roaming downward to admire Brian's impressive cock at full attention as he subconsciously licked his lips in anticipation, the chicken cordon bleu quickly forgotten. Brian slowly walked over to him and smiled at his reaction. He reached out to firmly grab Justin by the wrist to begin walking him backward toward the bedroom. "Finally," he whispered huskily; Justin watched with widened eyes at the predatory, lust-driven look on Brian's face as he growled, "If I don't fuck you in the next five minutes, I'm going to explode," he growled. The two reached Brian's raised bedroom in record time as Justin unexpectedly bumped up against the step behind him and began to stumble; he was saved injury, however, when Brian deftly reached out to grab his shoulders and slammed their bodies together. Justin gasped at the feelings that coursed through him as Brian molded their lips together and began to plunder his mouth hungrily; tired of waiting any longer, he reached down while they kissed and roughly pulled Justin's shirt apart, the buttons flying across the room as he proceeded to yank the fabric off the slender shoulders. Justin managed somehow to lower his arms enough for Brian to pull the shirt all the way off before his lover threw the now- tattered garment to the floor.
An absurd notion entered Justin's mind that he wouldn't have any shirt to wear to work tomorrow before all rational thought quickly escaped him as Brian broke off their kiss long enough to help Justin step up onto the raised bedroom floor and push him down onto the mattress; he bounced off the bed slightly and lay there, holding his upper body up with his arms as Brian reached down and pulled his shoes and socks off. The two locked pregnant gazes for a moment before Brian knelt on the bed in between Justin's legs and leaned down on his arms to tower over the slim body. "I'm going to fuck you until you see stars in the back of your head," he vowed.
Justin flushed a deep shade of pink at Brian's tone of voice as the brunet leaned down and swiped his tongue over his lips possessively before raising back up on his knees to urgently unbutton the fly of Justin's jeans and pull them down the slender hips. Justin managed to raise his legs just enough for Brian to pull them along with his briefs all the way off as finally he succeeded in divesting his lover of all his clothes. He remained still for a few moments to simply admire the beauty beneath him, watching as Justin blushed adorably under his scrutiny. It had taken them some time to reach this point of no return – including a persistent campaign of persuasion on his part that he really did care for this man deeply – but now that they had come to an understanding, he couldn't imagine his life without this man in it. He knew he had a lot yet to learn about Justin, having known him for a relatively short time, but boy was he going to enjoy finding out. For now, though, he would be content to demonstrate to him just how much he meant to him.
He smiled reassuringly at him as he leaned in to support himself on his arms, push-up style, to bestow a slow, scorching kiss on Justin's open mouth, snaking his tongue in to imbibe in a full-bodied taste of what was inside.
Justin's heart was hammering in his chest as Brian languorously attacked his mouth with his lips and his tongue; he could feel his lover's cock hanging between them, leaving a wet trail of patent desire across his belly as it swept across his skin. He reached up to firmly cup Brian's face as the brunet finally pulled back just enough to stare into his eyes, his face leaving no question that he was about to make good on his previous promise to fuck him to within an inch of his life. "Brian," he whispered urgently, knowing he wasn't going to last very long from the sensations rushing through him if Brian didn't move on soon, and he didn't want to come this way, not after what he had experienced last night; he knew the best was yet to come – in more ways than one. "I need you inside me," he urged him as he gazed into his darkened eyes. "I can't wait any longer; fuck me," he entreated softly, his voice full of need as well as want.
"My pleasure," Brian drawled in that silky tone of voice that set Justin's blood on fire. He lingered long enough to kiss and lick a wet trail with his lips down Justin's face, starting with his eyelids and moving on down to his nose and mouth before moving southward to the side of his neck and his shoulders, while his hands began a downward journey along Justin's arms, reveling in the smooth skin under his touch. He could feel Justin's heart beating rapidly underneath him and was surprised to realize his own heart was beating at the same frantic rhythm; never before had another man caused his own body to ramp up the way that this man did, not when it came to his fragile, vulnerable heart. The heart that, with the exception of his son, had never been so exposed before to anyone else; it was a testimonial of just how deeply this man had affected him in such a short time, and it both scared and excited him at the same time.
Justin squirmed under the exquisite sensations being generated by Brian's body and his touch; every slight movement of his lover's hands, lips and legs set his body on fire. Ironically enough, now that Brian had him in his bed where he wanted him, he was the one impatient to get on with it; Brian, on the other hand, seemed to be deriving extreme demonic pleasure in prolonging the event as long as possible. He gasped suddenly as he felt one of Brian's hands firmly latch onto his cock finally and proceed to slide up and down it like he was fine-tuning a well-loved instrument while the other hand began to fondle his balls lightly back and forth in his palm like a warm, curved, heated blanket. "God!" His body instinctively arched off the bed and he cried out in part agony, part pleasure as Brian briefly flicked the tip of his cock back and forth playfully with his thumb before he resumed his up and down motion on the shaft, slowly picking up speed and pressure as Justin's body threatened to explode in torment. "Bri-an," he pleaded desperately, his heart now pounding with anticipation; he could feel his body tensing as it cried out a warning of imminent release. "Fuck! I… I can't last with you doing that!"
Brian chuckled softly, his lips vibrating against Justin's belly as he slowly raised his face to peer into the pleading blue ones. "I was just trying to make sure your chicken didn't burn," he helpfully pointed out as he smiled lazily up at him, watching Justin's eyes narrowing, clearly broadcasting a silent message that could only mean he was calling him an endearment along like the lines of asshole or fucker, no doubt.
"Fuck the chicken," Justin snarled as he reached down and grabbed a fistful of Brian's hair to yank his head upward to force him to look at him.
"Sorry, Florence, I'm not into bestiality," he snarked as Justin huffed out an exasperated breath. He smiled. To Justin's great relief, he let go of his cock and, placing his hands on Justin's waist, he slowly slid back up until they were face to face with each other. Brian grinned, enjoying himself thoroughly. At that moment, he knew where they were heading and he couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be, other than lying here on top of this beautiful blond. He licked his lips and grinned at Justin's look of frustrated aggravation, unable to keep from nuzzling his nose like an Eskimo briefly before he captured the lips once more in a searing kiss; at first Justin refused to kiss him back but that lasted all of a couple of seconds before he felt the soft lips underneath his open up like an enticing flower and he once more drunk eagerly from what he was offered.
Several seconds later, he broke off the kiss and raised back up onto his knees as he peered down at the panting, sweaty body lying below him, impatiently waiting to move onto what they both knew was inevitable. Under the soft orange glow of the lights nearby, Justin's body was even more beautiful as the blue eyes gazed up into his expectantly. He found a soft smile slowly spreading across his face at the look of impatience on Justin's face. "Don't worry, Florence," he murmured as he reached over to the contemporary, sleek night table to retrieve a condom and a small tube of lube from a silver-colored, shallow bowl. "We both want the same thing – trust me," he assured him as he tore open the condom package with his teeth, noticing Justin never taking his eyes off him.
As Brian slid the condom down over his cock and rubbed a dollop of the slippery gel in his palms to heat it up to room temperature, he found to his shock that his earlier promise of fucking Justin hard and fast was quickly beginning to be replaced with something much more tender in nature. He was astounded that he could be feeling those sorts of emotions for another man – any other time, it would just be out-and-out fucking – a quick, efficient way to satisfy his urges and derive the utmost in pleasure, the same as most other queers. But as he locked gazes with Justin, he knew things had changed - he had been changed by this fiery, beautiful blond anxiously waiting for him to fuck the daylights out of him. And he would – gladly; it just wouldn't be the rough and tumble way he had imagined earlier, at least not this time...
Justin frowned slightly at the almost hesitant way Brian was acting; had he done something wrong? "Brian?" he asked softly, momentarily forgetting his body crying out for release. "What?" he pressed.
Brian shook his head imperceptibly. "Nothing," he smiled gently, as he reached down and ran his fingers slowly across the soft, full lips; he wasn't quite prepared just yet to expose his deep emotions to his lover just yet. He curled his lips under, assuming a typical devil-may-care expression. "Just admiring the view before I fuck you into oblivion."
Justin flushed at the compliment. "Well, I'm admiring mine, too, but I'd admire it a lot better if you'd move in a little closer – much closer," he said almost shyly. He was still getting somewhat used to having this glorious-looking man all to himself. At least, he hoped that was the case. He certainly knew that Brian hadn't left his side in the last several hours, not even to go to work. He wasn't naïve enough to think that Brian would only be exclusive to him – not yet, anyway – but he silently resolved to work toward that goal somehow. For now, though, he was definitely going to enjoy the one-on-one time he had with him.
"A very good idea, Mr. Taylor," Brian told him as he reached down to spread some of the lube around his lover's wonderfully-tight hole; he could feel it pulsing around his fingers as he poked one inside tentatively, eliciting a distinctive groan from below. Taking that as a positive sign, he pushed one more finger inside, spreading them to open the hole wider as Justin bent his legs and spread them apart to allow Brian greater access. He blushed as Brian smiled down at his eagerness, but moaned loudly as Brian hit just the right spot to put him into sensual orbit. An intelligible grunt emerged from his lips as he cried out, "Fuck me, Brian!," unable to take much more before he shot his load all over his lover prematurely. "I need you inside me now!"
"Can't think of a place I'd rather be," Brian responded with a feral smile, almost afraid he was giving too much of his feelings away. He grasped Justin's legs, lightly skimming his hands over them before he raised them to his shoulders as Justin linked them behind his head and licked his lips eagerly; Brian saw that as an invitation and leaned down for a brief kiss of heaven before he at last lined his cock up and slowly pushed inside, never taking his eyes off his lover's. As he felt the tight warmth welcoming him there, he couldn't help thinking, heaven indeed…
"Ah, fuck, Justin, you feel so good," he murmured as he waited for the blond to adjust. After a couple of seconds Justin placed his hand on Brian's thigh in silent signal for him to go deeper as he pushed in more, an involuntary groan of exquisite pleasure escaping his lips as he finally went even deeper, ramming full hilt into Justin's body, marveling at the smaller man's resiliency and strength as Justin pushed against him in perfect synchrony. "So good," he kept repeating as he began a steady, sensual rhythm while Justin pushed his body off the bed as much as possible to heighten both of their pleasure. "God, Justin!" he growled as he felt his body tensing, crying out for relief. He picked up his tempo, knowing by the feel of Justin's muscles clenching harder around his cock that the end was approaching for both of them. Continuing to stare intently into the eyes that were now darkened with lust and need for him, he reached down to pump Justin's slickened cock with his sweaty hand as he thrust in and out faster and faster…
"Uhh… Brian - God!" Justin cried out abruptly as he clutched Brian's biceps tightly, his fingers digging into the firm flesh as he climaxed, spilling the milky, sticky mixture all over their glistening, hot skin. He managed somehow to keep his feet linked behind Brian's back as the brunet's face contorted into the throes of ultimate passion and he, too, shot his seed in copious amounts into the condom, filling it to capacity in short order.
Breathing heavily, Brian couldn't help collapsing onto his lover's chest as Justin's legs dropped to intertwine with his own, his hands coming to rest on Justin's shoulders as he nestled his head in the crook of his lover's neck and nuzzled his cheek with his nose, breathing in the scent of a sated Justin in post-coital bliss. He could sense Justin's body struggling to return to normal as he felt the slender hands wrap themselves around his body and slowly stroke his sweat-soaked back, both for anchor as well as a need to remain linked together in body as well as soul.
As Brian continued to lay there, draping the smaller body like a warm blanket, he knew there would be no way to ever separate the two; just as he was currently cradling the body beneath him, Justin had just as securely wrapped himself around his heart. He felt his dick softening as he reluctantly twisted his body to the side to remove and tie off the condom, tossing it down on the floor next to the bed. He lay there, bracing his head with one hand as his other hand reached over to push back some strands of soaked golden hair from Justin's forehead. He reached out to gather up some of Justin's quickly-drying come from the pale belly and bring a taste to his lips as he whispered, still a little out of breath, "I dare you to come up with a better cream sauce than this."
Justin's face reddened considerably; if he hadn't had his hands draped across Brian's back, he would have covered his face to hide the flushed cheeks that suddenly appeared. The other man's eyes, his voice, conveyed so much without him actually saying the words that silently went along with them – I care for you, I want you, I feel happy with you… The same exact feelings he was experiencing himself at the moment. Instead, he kept his hands on Brian's back as he smiled shyly up at his gorgeous lover and just relished in the feelings washing over him.
Brian smirked back lazily in that look that drove him wild before he reached one hand up to Justin's face and curved it alongside his cheek and the top of his head to cradle it. He reached down to steal one additional, quick kiss from the fully ravaged, pink lips before he sighed softly in regret. "As much as I'd love to continue this, Emeril," he whispered in a sexy tone of voice, "I think someone's chicken's about to burn."
"Shit!" The blond cried out; he had promptly forgotten about their dinner – something had 'come up' to divert his attention elsewhere. He began to push up against Brian to get up, only to find his body firmly held down in place. "Brian… You want burned chicken for dinner and a fire alarm going off?"
Brian grinned at the beautiful, anxious-looking face. "It would be worth it," he found himself admitting as Justin couldn't help blushing in return at his response. "But smoke in my designer furniture? That would be a real bitch to remove." He reluctantly rose from his lover and twisted off the bed, walking toward the bathroom. "I'll be right back," he promised, as he looked over at the small, spherical alarm clock he kept on his night stand. "You've got a few minutes yet." He returned shortly afterward with a warm, dampened washcloth.
Justin watched in fascination from his place on the bed as Brian came back over to sit on the edge of the mattress and proceeded to tenderly wash the remnants of their lovemaking off his chest and belly.
"I remember when you did this for Gus," he recalled softly. "Although for a much different reason," he added with a smirk as Justin smiled in recollection. "But I was struck by how gentle you were with him that night," he confided, curling his lips under a little self-consciously; he was unaccustomed to exposing his feelings to anyone else and found the sensation just a little disconcerting. Nevertheless, he lifted his gaze from his task to stare into the intense blue eyes. "I'll never forget that, Justin," he told his companion softly. "That meant a lot to me."
"Brian…" Justin replied quietly, touched by his lover's declaration. "You already thanked me before; besides, I like to think I treat every child that way," he murmured in protest, not wanting to take extra credit for what he did.
Brian finished up his ministrations and laid the washcloth down on the floor for the moment, not quite wanting to part just yet. He reached over to grasp Justin's hand, rubbing it softly between his fingers. "I'm sure you do," Brian told him. "That's why you're going to be perfect for this new job. And why they're damn lucky that you said yes instead of telling them to kiss your ass instead."
Justin's eyes twinkled. "I thought that was your job," he said impertinently, watching as Brian grinned in return.
The brunet leaned in to whisper, "If you weren't about to have a catastrophe in my kitchen, I'd be more than happy to take care of that right now." Justin's face once more flushed in response as Brian grinned at his predictable reaction. "We'll just have to save that treat for later, though; someone promised me dinner first."
Justin grinned as Brian reached over to kiss his nose playfully before he released his hand to stand up from the bed. Snatching the washcloth from the floor, he said, "I could use a shower, though," His voice lowered an octave as he suggested helpfully, "Why don't you go check on our masterpiece first and then join me?"
Justin grinned as he said in mock protest, "I thought you said you were going to wait for dessert; now you want another fuck before dinner?" He quickly scooted off the bed, however, as Brian began to walk away, turning with an almost 'come hither' look as he curled his lips under and waggled his eyebrows at him.
"So I changed my mind," he replied with a shrug. "Fuck convention!" he cried out, raising his hand as if he were Julius Caesar delivering a mandate. Just before he disappeared out of sight, Justin heard him say, "Don't make me start the timer again," before the blond heard the shower start up.
Laughing, he turned back to the kitchen to check on the chicken; a wondrous aroma assailed his nose as he lifted the lid approvingly. All he had to do now was prepare the sauce, but that could wait a little while – he had much more pleasurable activities on his mind at the moment, and his cock was quickly rising to the occasion.
Turning the burner down to its lowest setting, he placed the lid back on and, smiling, hurried over to the bathroom to join his lover. Right now, at that moment, he thought life couldn't get any better than this.
Next Day – Mid-Afternoon
Justin twisted his hands nervously as he stood in the elevator, waiting for it to emerge on the fourth floor. He was grateful that Dr. McKenzie had agreed to see him around 2, because that had given him enough time this morning – with a lift from Brian – to rush over to his apartment and change into business casual clothes for both school and his meeting here. After his and Brian's frenzied lovemaking last night – and this morning – the shirt he had been wearing was practically in tatters now. He felt his face warm as he recalled the multi-faceted bouts of combination fucking, lovemaking, kissing, sucking, rimming and ramming both he and his tender ass had endured since last night at his lover's hands; Brian had definitely demonstrated his range of skills and techniques last night on him and in practically every conceivable position as well, some of which he didn't know were even anatomically viable ones.
"Shit," he muttered, feeling himself harden just at the recollection. He purposefully began to count to a hundred, imagining buckets of ice cubes being thrown on top of his head, and anything else that might damper his ardor so he didn't embarrass himself once he arrived at the Chief of Staff's conference room to meet with both McKenzie and the other members of the staff he would be working with. Somehow, after his previous 'indiscretion,' he didn't think it would behoove him to show up with a woody. He sighed – all he had to do with think about Brian and it made him crazy. He made a promise to himself to make sure going forward he thought about some other topic while he was at work, even though he knew that would be quite difficult.
Fortunately by the time the elevator had reached the fourth floor, his body had calmed down sufficiently that he could hide his lascivious thoughts from his coworkers. He straightened his shoulders as he got out of the elevator and turned left toward McKenzie's suite, trying hard to keep his pulse at a normal level. His palms were sweating with nerves, however, and inside he could feel his stomach roiling in waves of trepidation the closer he got to the Chief of Staff's main entrance door. He let out a deep breath before he steeled himself and turned the knob to go in.
Kelly, the doctor's assistant, smiled politely this time as he entered, now able to recognize the new art therapy department employee. "Mr. Taylor," she said coolly with a nod. "The doctor and the others are waiting for you in the conference room. He said for you to go on in when you got here." She motioned to her right. "It's the last door at the end," she told him.
He nodded his gratitude as he slowly trod down the hall. As hallways went, it was quite short – only about 15 feet or so – but his feet felt like they were made of lead and it seemed to take an interminable time to reach the heavy wooden door indicated. He wiped his palms on his dark gray linen pants before he took one more calming breath and turned the brass knob to open it inward.
As soon as he opened it, every head and pair of eyes turned to gaze upon him, increasing his anxiety even more. It had been hard enough yesterday to come here and speak to the most important doctor in the hospital, but that was nothing compared to this – he recognized several other important members of the staff, including a couple of psychiatrists who he knew from what others had told him had been on staff there for several years, along with a couple of the head charge nurses. He nodded in relief as he recognized Cathy McDonald from the ICU – she had always been quite congenial around him and had treated him as a unique person, not just another orderly. She smiled and nodded in greeting before he swept his gaze around the rest of the conference room. His face lit up with a big smile as he noticed Daphne sitting among the rest of the members. She flashed a bright smile of her own as she met his gaze, making him feel enormously better.
"Justin," Dr. McKenzie greeted him warmly from the opposite end of the table as he stood up. "Come on in and I'll introduce you to everyone."
Justin nodded as he quietly closed the door and entered. Dr. McKenzie walked over to his side and announced, "Staff, some of you already know this young man, but for those of you who don't, this is Justin Taylor, our assistant art therapist for the newly-created department that we are implementing effective immediately. Justin, I'd like to introduce to you the other members of the advisory committee who will be assisting in formulating an effective game plan for our new department. Some of these individuals will be providing only initial feedback," the doctor explained, "while others will be conferring with you on a regular basis regarding their own patients." The doctor stood next to a dark-haired, middle-aged woman to his right to begin the introductions. "Justin, this is Dr. Marla Meadows, our chief psychiatrist on staff. She will be a permanent committee member."
Justin reached down to shake her hand; the woman nodded politely and grasped it firmly for a few seconds before letting it go. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Justin. May I call you that?" As the blond nodded, she added, "I've heard some excellent things about you, both from other employees as well as parents of several of my patients. I'm very intrigued about incorporating art therapy into my patients' recovery."
"Thank you," Justin told her humbly. "I'm looking forward to the challenge."
The doctor proceeded to introduce Justin to each member in attendance as the blond received at the very least a polite acknowledgement from some and a more enthusiastic welcome from others who were more familiar with him. By chance Daphne wound up being the last person to be introduced. As the doctor approached her chair, she rose from the conference room table and impulsively gave Justin a firm hug. As she pulled back from him, Justin could actually see tears in her eyes as she whispered in his ear, "I'm so happy for you, Justin. The hospital is very lucky, too."
Justin beamed at her. "Thanks, Da… Uh, Dr. Chanders," he corrected himself, not wanting to embarrass her with too much familiarity, especially in front of the Chief of Staff. "I'm really excited about my new job."
"You're buying lunch next time, by the way," she teased as Justin chuckled softly.
"You got a deal," he whispered back, not sure how much to reveal to the others about just how close their friendship was. He nodded at Daphne before turning his attention back to Dr. McKenzie.
The older man motioned to the seat next to the resident. "Have a seat, then, Justin, and we'll get started."
Justin nodded as he pulled out the office chair and sat down. He turned to smile at Daphne as she quietly reached out and squeezed his wrist in a silent indication of congratulations and happiness for his good fortune before he turned his attention back to the group at large to begin their preliminary work regarding formation of the new art therapy department.
Thirty Minutes Later – Second Floor
"Is Dr. Swanson in?" Kelly asked as she marched into the chief surgeon's office suite on the second floor. "I need to speak with him right away."
"He's on a conference call," the doctor's assistant, a classically-attired, elegant-looking blond woman by the name of Rosalie Sanders, told her.
"I'll wait then," the younger woman told her firmly as she turned and plopped down on the visitor's couch located by the opposite wall.
Rosalie nodded, placing a neutral expression on her face, but inside she was fuming. She would have liked nothing better than to tell this haughty bitch to come back some other time, that she had no idea how long the conference call would take, but she knew better. She realized if she showed the least hint of exasperation or rudeness with the girlfriend of her boss's son she would wind up paying for it. As highly paid as she was to be Swanson's executive assistant, she also knew that he could be a downright prick when he was annoyed with her. And she also knew from past experience that this young woman was excellent at creating havoc where her own job was concerned; one day she had forgotten to tell Swanson about a message the other woman had left regarding some family barbecue he was supposed to attend at his son's home and the man had threatened to actually fire her over it. She bit back the retort she wanted so badly to say before she nodded and told her instead, "I'll let him know you're here just as soon as he gets off."
Kelly crossed her hands impatiently over her arms and huffed out an aggravated breath, crossing her legs as she swung them back and forth in aggravation. She had been able to get someone from the temporary pool to take over for her for a half hour or so while McKenzie was in his conference meeting, but she knew she had to get back soon or he would notice she had left her desk for an extended period of time. As much as she didn't always agree with what McKenzie did policy-wise, she also knew it was the best-paying job she had ever had, and she didn't want to risk losing it. Of course, it hadn't hurt that she personally knew Swanson's son intimately; it had certainly helped her when McKenzie's previous assistant had retired and they were looking for a replacement. She realized that normally such an important job would be reserved for someone who had worked their way up through the ranks of the hospital, rather than an outsider, but Swanson had strongly insisted she be seriously considered for the job when it had become open. Partly in deference to her business credentials and office skills, in addition to his recommendation, she had managed a few months ago to snag the job. Now she felt like perhaps it was time for a little thank you payback to her boyfriend's father.
She glanced up as she heard Swanson's assistant pick up the phone and report to her boss that she was waiting to speak with him. A few seconds later, the older woman advised, "You can go in now, Ms. Hutchins."
Rising with a perfunctory, cool nod, Kelly turned and strode to the door, firmly pushing the door handle down and striding into the familiar room. By courtesy of her relationship with the man's son, as well as previous visits for various hospital matters, she was quite comfortable by now in the prestigious man's inner sanctum.
Rosalie waited until the woman had turned her back to leave before she rolled her eyes, silently resentful of the other woman's presumptuousness. Huffing out an irritated breath, she forced herself to return to her laptop to work on her next project, all the time wondering just what the other woman wanted now with her boss.
Swanson gazed over at Kelly as she entered and smiled politely. He knew this young woman was both manipulative as well as headstrong, but he actually saw a little of himself in her attitude and could identify with her ambition. Besides, for some inexplicable reason, his normally timid son appeared to be in love with this assertive young girl, so he was willing to put up with her. "Kelly," he said, motioning for her to sit down in one of the stainless steel chairs directly in front of his sleek, contemporary glass topped desk. Unlike most of the more stodgy professionals at the hospital, he much preferred the modern, clean lines of newer designer furniture, rather than the archaic-looking, bulky wooden office pieces that so many of his peers seemed to gravitate to. "What's on your mind?" he asked curiously, peering at her from over his wire-rimmed glasses.
Her eyes flashed. "I'll tell you what's on my mind," she reported in a clipped voice, her face scowling. "You know the new art therapy department the hospital is creating?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I heard about it; there was a long e-mail sent out with all the details this morning. I didn't really pay too much attention to it, though, since it really has nothing to do with my own work." With his schedule, he barely had time to sleep, let alone pay much attention to attempts by the Chief of Staff to placate the artsy, touchy-feely crowd. "What about it?"
She stared back at him smugly. "Well, you'll never in a million years guess who the new art therapy assistant is. Justin Taylor."
Swanson frowned; why did that name sound familiar? "Justin Taylor… I've heard that name before. But again, Kelly, why the fuck should I care who they got? It doesn't have anything to do with me. I'm not going to have anything to do with that function."
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Well, I'll tell you why you should care; Justin Taylor is the orderly who was recently suspended for kissing that other man in public. Apparently not only is his suspension over now, but he's been rewarded with a new job – and a hefty raise to boot. Some punishment."
Swanson's face darkened in anger. "Tell me you're playing some sort of sick joke here," he growled with deadly calm. "If you are, I don't find it funny at all."
"I wish I was," she reported, her lips drawn tightly together. She and Swanson may not be buddy-buddy with each other, and may never have a warm relationship, but they did agree on one thing – the perverted behavior that Taylor had engaged in had no place in the hospital, and neither did he. "But I saw him and overheard the whole thing, plus I had the pleasure of drafting the email that went out this morning, specifically mentioning him by name – if you had taken the time to read all of it. In fact, he's meeting right now with the members of the advisory board to brainstorm ideas for setting the art therapy program up." She recalled how she had been forced to plaster on a polite greeting when the young blond had appeared earlier today; it was all she could do not to throw the man out when he had walked in, ready to assume a job that some other, well-deserving, normal person should have been given. She had been brought up staunchly Protestant by her minister father, and he had firmly ingrained in her what was right and normal, and this man's lifestyle was neither.
She watched as her words sunk in and the Chief Surgeon's veins stood out on his neck; she could almost see the other man's blood pressure rising as he replied, "You have got to be fucking kidding me! The man was suspended for a week and shows up now with a new job?" He brushed his hand through his hair in fury. "I don't fucking believe this bullshit! He should have been fired, just like I told McKenzie!" he snarled as he rose from his chair. "Come on! I've got to see this for myself!"
She nodded in righteous agreement as she turned and Swanson followed her out the door. "I'm going out," the doctor told his assistant cryptically as he abruptly rushed out of the suite behind the younger woman.
Rosalie sighed in irritation, knowing she would now have to try and figure out just how long the man intended to be gone so she would know which of his scheduled visitors to call and reschedule. She should be used to it by now, though; the man was extremely exasperating when he left without giving her enough information. It certainly didn't make her job any easier. Shaking her head, she booted up her desktop computer and began to scan the calendar for the day before picking up her phone to start making the necessary calls of apology.
Reaching McKenzie's office suite, Swanson hurried along on the heels of the other man's assistant, not even bothering to slow down as he stomped down the hall toward the conference room. Without any preamble, he grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open as Kelly chose judiciously to quietly return to her desk as if nothing was amiss. Several pairs of eyes turned to look curiously at him, wondering why they had been so unceremoniously interrupted, before Swanson's gaze settled on the young blond man he instantly recognized from the other day, the same one that had been cavorting with an older brunet, totally uncaring of whoever saw what they were doing. He had hoped he would never see the man again, but to his total disgust apparently his son's girlfriend had been correct.
"What do you want, Swanson?" McKenzie asked him wearily from his end of the table. "I'm conducting an important business meeting here."
"That's what YOU think!" Swanson roared as he stared over at Justin, who flinched at the vitriolic tone of his voice. "I want to talk to you, McKenzie – NOW!"
McKenzie sighed, a little embarrassed to be so rudely interrupted in front of his staff. But somehow, he wasn't surprised his arrogant, pompous chief surgeon had found out who the new art therapy assistant was and had put two and two together. He knew he would probably have to deal with the man's wrath at some point, but he had been hoping it would be later rather than sooner. It seemed, however, that it was not meant to be. The chief of staff pushed back from the table and rose from his chair. "Very well, Doctor," he replied calmly, the title being spoken with a definite tone of disdain. "I will speak with you. Privately." He eyed the other man intently, refusing to back down. He had no intention of airing their dirty laundry in front of the entire room's participants, nor did he think Justin, specifically, should be subject to what was no doubt going to be an extremely tense interaction. As he walked toward the other man standing near the exit door, just before he reached him he turned to Justin with a polite smile of reassurance and said, "Justin, why don't you and the others continue our discussion while I'm gone? You can fill me in on the details afterward."
Justin nodded, but he couldn't stay completely silent; he instinctively knew what the other man wanted to speak to McKenzie about and it filled him with a profound sense of dread. "Doctor…" he began, his voice asking an unspoken question.
McKenzie turned to shake his head as if to say not now. "It's okay," he told him firmly. "Go ahead. Everything will be fine." He nodded at him as if to say I can handle this before he turned and followed the chief surgeon out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
The entire room stood there in stunned silence for several seconds, unsure how to proceed or what to do. Some of them had no way of knowing what was afoot, but for others such as Cathy McDonald and Daphne, they knew exactly what was about to be discussed and both women were extremely concerned for their friend. Daphne reached over to squeeze Justin's leg as he turned to look at her. She smiled, nodding. "Go ahead, Justin," she urged him softly so only he could hear. "It's your show. Don't let that asshole get to you."
Justin swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and glanced at the other faces surrounding him. While some of them were noticeably confused and curious about the heated exchange that had just taken place, to his relief none of them seemed hostile or resentful regarding his presence there; in fact, they peered over at him with what appeared to be a combination of both interest and politeness.
He took a calming breath and glanced at Daphne for further bolstering of his confidence before he turned to face the rest of the group gathered around him. He exhaled, feeling just a little of the stress roll off his shoulders before he said professionally, "Shall we continue?" As one of the doctors present began to present her ideas for the new department, Justin forced himself to listen to her and paste a professional look on his face, but inside his heart was pounding so hard he felt like it would burst from his chest. Was there even going to be a need for the information they were gathering from this meeting? When McKenzie finished his meeting with the other man, would there even be a new art therapy department?
Despite his previous vow from earlier, he found his thoughts wandering to Brian, who had steadfastly believed in him and helped to keep his spirits up through some of the darker periods in his life recently. Right then and there, the only thing he wished was that he could feel Brian's strong arms surrounding him protectively, and his voice murmuring soothingly in his ear that everything would turn out all right. Brian… I need you, he pleaded silently. But as he stood there and forced himself to listen to the other members of the committee, he knew at least for now his wish would remain unfulfilled.