Emmitt’s line of sight dropped to Nash’s mouth. Nash swallowed and lowered his own view to Emmitt’s parted lips. After all that talking—a conversation that should have been awkward but weirdly hadn’t been—uncertainty finally washed through him. Attraction didn’t necessarily equate to chemistry.
“Yes,” Nash said.
Emmitt lifted an eyebrow as well as his gaze.
“We should…you know…make sure,” Nash clarified.
“That I’m gay? I assure you, just because I haven’t acted on it doesn’t mean I don’t know my own mind.”
Nash blinked. “Oh. No, that’s not what I meant. Hell, I knew before I acted on it, too. No, I mean…shit…uh, make sure we’re compatible before taking such a serious step.”
“Oh. You’re right, of course. I guess I don’t even know anything about what you like or don’t like.”
“I’m pretty versatile, though I prefer a more passive role.” Typically, Nash would wait and just see where the cards fell, but frank talk was working well for them thus far, so he might as well continue the trend.
Emmitt nodded, and the corners of his mouth hinted at a smile.
Nash waited, hoping Emmitt would make a move since he’d just spelled out his preference. He held his breath as Emmitt’s gaze dropped back to his mouth. A warm hand cupped his cheek, and Nash sighed and parted his lips as Emmitt leaned down.
The kiss started uncertainly, a feathery tease. Nash relaxed into it and moved his hands to Emmitt’s sides, tentatively caressing as the kiss went on.
After a minute, Emmitt pulled his face back and stared into Nash’s eyes. Assessing signs of involuntary response perhaps? Dilated eyes? No doubt his pupils were blown. Flushed skin? Possibly…definitely heading in that direction. Emmitt’s Adam’s apple bobbed, then he shifted his other hand to cup the back of Nash’s neck.
Fingers splayed through Nash’s short hair as Emmitt firmly, yet tenderly, drew him forward. There was nothing soft about their second kiss. Nash’s hands wound around to Emmitt’s back. Taut muscles shifted beneath his palms as his hands journeyed upward.
A faint noise escaped Emmitt’s throat, and Nash opened his mouth to a querying tongue. Nash’s hands tightened on Emmitt’s shoulders as he melted against the man’s wonderfully firm chest.
Emmitt’s lean frame was solid and strong. Tremors coursed through Nash’s body as they pressed close. One of Emmitt’s hands remained at the back of Nash’s head, holding it in place as he explored Nash’s mouth.
The other hand traced down to rest on Nash’s ass, then unyielding pressure pulled them together. Yeah, there was no doubt Emmitt was interested in men, and there was no denying the…hard evidence that he was attracted to Nash in particular. Nash might not have thought of Emmitt—Dr. Burlingham—in this way before, but damn, now that the self-imposed mental barrier against it was down, clearly the attraction was mutual.
Nash pushed his hips forward and immersed himself in the sensations bombarding his body, closing his eyes to focus on the other four senses. The touch of Emmitt’s unyielding and forceful, yet somehow gentle hands guiding him, the aroma of natural musk mixed with a touch of a citrus- and jasmine-infused cologne. The flavor of lingering pastries and coffee fused with a fresh, pure masculine zest, and the sounds of desire and encouragement emanating from Emmitt’s throat. These things combined to an overwhelming awareness that Nash did not want to stop.
With his arms wrapped around Emmitt’s back, Nash gripped whatever he found—shirt, shoulders, hair. The harmony of their moans merged together—surely this broadcast his own agreement. When Emmitt broke the kiss to stare, breathless, into his eyes, Nash gasped, “So, you wanna?”
Because, fuck, it had been four goddamned months, and after that kiss he didn’t have the strength to face another day of that seemingly endless dry spell. Besides, he’d just agreed to marry the man, so why the hell not?
A slow smile spread across Emmitt’s face, and he raised a satirical eyebrow. “You can’t tell?”
Nash laughed. The man actually had a sense of humor when he let down his professional armor.
Crinkles appeared at the corners of Emmitt’s eyes as his smile widened. “Maybe it’s time you got a tour of the upstairs.”
Nash nodded, maintaining eye contact, then stepped back and let his hands drop.
“Unless…” Emmitt’s eyes narrowed. “How adventurous are you?”
That was an interesting—and somewhat loaded—question. “More than my experience so far would indicate.”
Emmitt quirked a single eyebrow but remained silent. Damn. Apparently, he knew that trick for getting people to keep talking, too.
Nash cleared his throat. “Uh, I cover all the bases, but it’s otherwise been pretty vanilla. Sex is great, but sometimes I feel like something is missing.”
No change in Emmitt’s countenance. Damn the man…he wasn’t going to help out with any questions.
“Excitement, maybe? I’ve never been much of an instigator, though.”
He hated admitting that. Not the bit about wanting a little more of a thrill, but the part where he’d been too wimpy to speak up and make suggestions. The new Nash should make more of an effort. He straightened his back, pursed his lips, and stared at Emmitt. Dammit, he was about ready to turn the question back on the man.
After a moment, Emmitt replied, “Okay. That’s fine, but you’ll speak up, if I initiate something you’re uncomfortable with, yes?”
“Yes.” Even the old Nash would have done that. “I think my comfort zone is somewhere north of bland and south of paddles and floggers.”
Emmitt chuckled and lifted a hand back to Nash’s jawline, then leaned in for a quick peck on the lips before whispering, “Perfect. Wait here.” Emmitt stepped back and gazed intently into Nash’s eyes. “Actually, no. Wait for me in the kitchen.”
Then he turned and darted in a very non-Dr. Burlingham-like fashion toward the stairway.
The kitchen? Nash’s face warmed, and his entire body keyed up just thinking about it. Which was kind of sad, because on the wide sliding scale of kinks, sex in the kitchen was probably pretty low. Tough…it was exhilarating to him. He smiled as he walked past the dining area and stepped around the island counter to await Emmitt’s return. What did the man have in mind? Nash ran a hand over the smooth clean surface of the island. How would it feel to be bent over the unyielding surface, facing the gorgeous view, while Emmitt fucked him?
Emmitt’s return pace was only slightly more dignified than his journey up the stairs had been. He placed a small pharmacy bag and a couple plush washcloths on the countertop and took Nash’s hands in his. His features were blank, but not his eyes, as he regarded Nash with a spine-tingling passion.
Nash curved his lips into a grin and squeezed Emmitt’s hands. He met Emmitt halfway with a spirited kiss. When it broke, their hands roamed freely, unbuttoning, removing clothing, exploring, as they searched each other’s eyes and involuntary reactions for clues. The intensity of Emmitt’s expression should have been unnerving, but instead, the effect thrilled and empowered Nash.
He caught his breath as he took in the striking sight of dark body hair contrasting with pale skin. He ground against the firm, hairy thigh pressing between his legs. Control of his actions was something on which he’d always kept a tight rein in the past. He’d finally let down his guard with his former fiancé, but weirdly felt no need for self-censoring with Emmitt. The concentrated passion in Emmitt’s eyes, springing from the extreme scrutiny, made Nash feel he could trust the man with…well, with everything.
There was no faraway, glassy look. Emmitt stared like Nash was the center of his universe.
Clearly, Emmitt wasn’t simply using another man’s body to get himself off. Nobody was being pictured in Nash’s place. He fully focused on Nash, concentrating, learning, and silently encouraging the same. It was sexy as hell.
With his hands firmly settled at Nash’s waist, Emmitt backed him to the island. A slight lift to the man’s eyebrows clued Nash that he was about to be hefted onto the counter.
With Emmitt’s long legs, that would put his cock at just the right height to…oh, fuck, yes.
Nash grinned, placed his hands on Emmitt’s shoulders for balance, and leapt. The granite was cool against his bare cheeks. He wrapped his legs around Emmitt’s torso, linked his feet at that firm ass, and pulled the man in.
Emmitt kissed Nash briefly as he reached for the bag and upended it, spilling a bottle of Astroglide and a box of condoms onto the counter.
Watching someone pry open a package had never been so fascinating. Emmitt’s movements were as careful and exact in this as they were at the hospital. Whether he was wielding a scalpel, a bone saw, or a needle, or simply putting on sterile gloves, his movements were always precise.
“May I?” Nash asked once Emmitt had extracted a condom from its wrapper.
He silently handed it over. Nash pinched the air out of the tip with one hand and held out the other. “One drop, please.”
Snapping open the lid of the Astroglide, Emmitt carefully dispensed a single drop onto Nash’s fingertip, then watched as Nash reverently applied the lubricant to the head of his erect penis. Emmitt’s hands moved to Nash’s thighs, softly trailing fingers along the tingling muscle.
Nash sucked in his breath and completed his task. Afterward, he placed the latex coil carefully at the top of Emmitt’s erection and unrolled the condom down its length. Emmitt’s warm hands moved to Nash’s hips, then the right hand traced up his torso to cup behind his head.
“Lie down.” Nash relaxed into Emmitt’s guiding hand until his head rested on the countertop. He stretched his arms overhead and basked in the exhilaration of giving himself over to Emmitt’s painstaking ministrations.
Emmitt’s hands once again securely held his hips. “Scooch.”
Nash brought his feet up to the edge and slid his body forward, then hooked his knees over Emmitt’s shoulders. He arched luxuriously, gripping the far edge of the island and peered back toward the windows. He peeked at the outside world before returning his attention forward as Emmitt meticulously prepared him.
It was the sexiest fucking thing Nash had ever experienced. Emmitt was as focused, careful, and systematic as Nash remembered from working with him in the OR. Emmitt might not have had any experience preparing another man for anal penetration, but he’d for darned sure studied it.
Some people have fun with sexy doctor-nurse roleplaying. Nash was getting the real thing.
By the time Emmitt’s slippery hand finally glided along Nash’s cock, easing his abnormally fierce yearning, he was so relaxed that Emmitt was able to enter him smoothly and painlessly.
Nash was once again entranced by Emmitt’s thorough scrutiny, as if his every move and reaction, both voluntary and involuntary, was being analyzed and filed away for future reference. He shivered deliciously and trailed his fingers up Emmitt’s arms as the man’s hands came between Nash’s legs to explore his chest and belly, all the while remaining still, firmly seated, balls to ass.
With their eyes locked, Nash moaned when Emmitt found his nipples, and at the same time began a slow pumping rhythm. Nash writhed, clung to flexing biceps, and tightened his leg-lock around Emmitt’s upper body, pulling the man impossibly closer.
Their pace varied as their hands explored, never breaking eye contact. Emmitt knew exactly what he was doing and repeatedly zeroed in on Nash’s prostate until Nash felt ready to fall apart in anticipation. Then Emmitt eased up—even stopped for a moment—while his fingers traced up Nash’s torso, then arms, holding them still. He leaned over, nuzzling and nipping until Nash begged him to move.
When Emmitt’s tempo finally turned erratic, he took Nash’s aching cock in hand. Nash shouted in ecstasy, joined by Emmitt’s roar as his final frenzied movements mirrored Nash’s own.
Cum splashed over Nash’s chest, and Emmitt clutched his ass cheeks. Time stood still as they gasped for air.
When his breathing settled, Nash grinned up at his fiancé. “Yeah, I don’t think chemistry’s going to be a problem for us.”
Emmitt answered with a beaming smile.
* * * *