Page 41 of Broken Wheels

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.