Read Online Patient Privilege by Allison Cassatta - Free Book Online
Authors: Allison Cassatta
Ads: Link
walk away.
Erik thrust deep inside him, rolled his hips, and pulled back before slamming home again. Each push had a new intensity to it, a new heat and desire. He wanted to make his lover come so hard he would never want to leave him. He wanted to be Marshall's addiction.
He let one leg fall and reached down to grip his lover's throbbing erection, and each time Erik dove inside, his hand met the same hurried rhythm—up and down, in and out. He pulled out, teased Marshall's opening until his ex-partner whimpered in agony and need, then thrust back in again.
They kept up that salacious dance, Erik stroking Marshall's body and his sex. Suddenly Marshall's back arched and he called out to God to help him. He panted and moaned, eyes closing as he cried out Erik's name. Erik couldn't have asked for better praise.
As soon as Marshall's body gripped his erection, Erik picked up the pace until he felt his own pressure about to explode. He pulled back and stabbed down with so much passion he couldn't hold back a moment longer. He came so hard his voice cracked as he cried out Marshall's name.
Panting, he let Marshall's legs fall as he slipped out of his body. Erik gathered his ex into his arms and held him tight. "I don't want to be without you," he rasped.
Marshall's arms wrapped around Erik's waist, and he laid his head against Erik's heaving chest. "I don't want to be without you either, Erik. Come back to San Francisco with me."
Erik couldn't respond. He would've killed to be back home with Marshall in their perfect little house with their perfect little lives. He would've given his soul to feel that love again. He opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang. It was the hospital. "I have to take this," he said as he reluctantly let go of Marshall's body.
"Dr Daniels," he said into the phone as Marshall stood and padded toward the bathroom.
"I'm sorry for bothering you," the voice on the other end said. "It's Jon. The hospital called you for me. I told them it was an emergency."
Erik frowned. "What's wrong, Jon?"
"He says he's leaving, Dr Daniels. Angel said he wanted to get high and no one could stop him. I told him I would leave if he did." Jon's voice trembled as if he were trying to hold back his tears. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want to see him do this to himself, but I don't know what else to do."
"Just stay there. I'm on my way." Erik ended the call, looked over at Marshall as he pulled his khakis up his legs and grabbed his shirt. He slipped his feet back into his shoes and said, "I have to go. Please don't leave town before we have a chance to talk."
Marshall closed the distance between them. He helped Erik settle his shirt into place then kissed him with a depth and passion Erik needed to feel. "I promise I won't. Please, think about what I said, okay?"
"I will." Erik kissed him again. "I love you."
"I love you too, Erik."
He tore out of Marshall's hotel room, his mind so lost in the throes of passion, lost in the urgency of helping Angel and Jon, that he forgot he'd ridden back from Starbucks with Marshall. He waved his arm in the air and the first taxi to zoom by slammed on its brakes.
"Take me to Starbucks on Wilshire and make it fast."
Chapter Thirteen
It took Erik maybe forty-five minutes to get to the hospital. He'd pushed his little import car to the limit and the damn thing whined in protest, but it got him there and in record time considering the never-ending LA traffic. In most cities, at almost one in the morning during the work week, traffic would've been nonexistent, but not in the city of lost angels where only the dead sleep.
His brown leather loafers pounded against the off-white linoleum floor as he ran toward Angel's room. He didn't know what to expect, didn't know if Angel would be subdued or convulsively sick or in the abusive stage of a junkie's detox. He hoped, for Jon's sake, Angel hadn't reached the latter yet. Jon seemed a little too fragile to go through
Erik thrust deep inside him, rolled his hips, and pulled back before slamming home again. Each push had a new intensity to it, a new heat and desire. He wanted to make his lover come so hard he would never want to leave him. He wanted to be Marshall's addiction.
He let one leg fall and reached down to grip his lover's throbbing erection, and each time Erik dove inside, his hand met the same hurried rhythm—up and down, in and out. He pulled out, teased Marshall's opening until his ex-partner whimpered in agony and need, then thrust back in again.
They kept up that salacious dance, Erik stroking Marshall's body and his sex. Suddenly Marshall's back arched and he called out to God to help him. He panted and moaned, eyes closing as he cried out Erik's name. Erik couldn't have asked for better praise.
As soon as Marshall's body gripped his erection, Erik picked up the pace until he felt his own pressure about to explode. He pulled back and stabbed down with so much passion he couldn't hold back a moment longer. He came so hard his voice cracked as he cried out Marshall's name.
Panting, he let Marshall's legs fall as he slipped out of his body. Erik gathered his ex into his arms and held him tight. "I don't want to be without you," he rasped.
Marshall's arms wrapped around Erik's waist, and he laid his head against Erik's heaving chest. "I don't want to be without you either, Erik. Come back to San Francisco with me."
Erik couldn't respond. He would've killed to be back home with Marshall in their perfect little house with their perfect little lives. He would've given his soul to feel that love again. He opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang. It was the hospital. "I have to take this," he said as he reluctantly let go of Marshall's body.
"Dr Daniels," he said into the phone as Marshall stood and padded toward the bathroom.
"I'm sorry for bothering you," the voice on the other end said. "It's Jon. The hospital called you for me. I told them it was an emergency."
Erik frowned. "What's wrong, Jon?"
"He says he's leaving, Dr Daniels. Angel said he wanted to get high and no one could stop him. I told him I would leave if he did." Jon's voice trembled as if he were trying to hold back his tears. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want to see him do this to himself, but I don't know what else to do."
"Just stay there. I'm on my way." Erik ended the call, looked over at Marshall as he pulled his khakis up his legs and grabbed his shirt. He slipped his feet back into his shoes and said, "I have to go. Please don't leave town before we have a chance to talk."
Marshall closed the distance between them. He helped Erik settle his shirt into place then kissed him with a depth and passion Erik needed to feel. "I promise I won't. Please, think about what I said, okay?"
"I will." Erik kissed him again. "I love you."
"I love you too, Erik."
He tore out of Marshall's hotel room, his mind so lost in the throes of passion, lost in the urgency of helping Angel and Jon, that he forgot he'd ridden back from Starbucks with Marshall. He waved his arm in the air and the first taxi to zoom by slammed on its brakes.
"Take me to Starbucks on Wilshire and make it fast."
Chapter Thirteen
It took Erik maybe forty-five minutes to get to the hospital. He'd pushed his little import car to the limit and the damn thing whined in protest, but it got him there and in record time considering the never-ending LA traffic. In most cities, at almost one in the morning during the work week, traffic would've been nonexistent, but not in the city of lost angels where only the dead sleep.
His brown leather loafers pounded against the off-white linoleum floor as he ran toward Angel's room. He didn't know what to expect, didn't know if Angel would be subdued or convulsively sick or in the abusive stage of a junkie's detox. He hoped, for Jon's sake, Angel hadn't reached the latter yet. Jon seemed a little too fragile to go through
Similar Books
It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age
Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton
