Ah, Brad, Colin thought, his heart pounding so hard it would have been alarming if it weren't so pleasant. He turned on the faucet and began rubbing the gel into his bare, wet body. The seductive fragrance and the warmth of the steam enveloped him like Lipski's hands and his breath, full of erotic tension. His eyes seemed to say just how much he wanted to take Colin into his arms, to pierce him with his passion.
A moan escaped the doctor's lips as he wandered over his body under the hot streams of water, guiding his hand downward, where his manhood was clearly demanding attention.
Colin closed his eyes.
It took no effort to convince himself that these hands belonged to Brad. That the rivulets of water caressing his face, neck, and shoulders were the lips and tongue of the dark-haired man with the deep, piercing eyes of a predator who now had his prey in his grasp. The man who, earlier today, without much thought—perhaps without thinking at all—had shielded him from a blow with his own body.
For such an act, he deserved a reward, and now he was taking it in the form of Colin's naked body, writhing under Lipski's touch, burning hotter than the water cascading over his bare skin.
"Oh…!" the doctor gasped as the fantasy took hold of him. As those tempting lips took hold of him… Lipski… Lips… He ached for those lips so badly… He pressed a finger to his mouth as if commanding his desires to be silent. But they refused to obey. He flicked his tongue out and touched his fingertip.
Oh, Brad, you naughty boy!
His other hand was already wrapped around his shaft. In his mind, in his heart, it was Brad's hand. He couldn't, wouldn't stop the motions that, gripping him, stroking him, made him swell, harden, rise proudly—ready to burst. And on Lipski's face, there was that satisfied smile, knowing his efforts were yielding exactly the effect he intended.
Oh, Brad, Colin moaned in his thoughts. Lipski smirked, fully aware of the power he had over Colin's body.
What are you doing to me…? Because of you, I…
"Oh, Brad," he repeated, letting out a moan of anticipation and pleasure. Lipski leaned over him along with the streams of water teasing his neck. Just a little more, just a little… and the fantasy would take him exactly where he wanted to go.
Oh yes, to reach that point in Brad Lipski's arms, under his touch, wrapped in the sensual scent of the dark-haired, wicked man…
Just a little more, just a little…
His wet body burned, and his heart raced with excitement.
Take me, he wanted to moan, wanted to beg, wanted to plead.
Ah, if only the real Brad were right beside him now, if only he took him passionately, without hesitation, unable to hold back his desire…
Ah, take me, Brad! Brad…!
The explosion came suddenly, sending a spasm through his lower abdomen. And another. He braced himself against the wall with one hand.
Fuck, that was… intense.
He panted, letting the water wash away the last remnants of tension. White traces of his release flowed down the drain—obscene, and yet…
His heartbeat slowly settled, but his cheeks still burned.
Colin stepped out of the shower with mixed feelings. He had satisfied his physical need, and he had done it well. His body had stopped screaming, soothed into a state of pleasant relaxation.
But beyond his body, something else stirred. His mind? His heart? Maybe both? He didn't know which one had started tormenting him. A strange unease crept in, bordering on guilt, as if he had done something wrong. Something immoral.
Because the truth was that, no matter how scorching hot Brad Lipski was, he wasn't gay. In fact, he seemed to be in a happy relationship with a fairly attractive (for a woman) woman.
So fantasizing about him felt… indecent. So unfair to Brad.
If he knew how Colin had used his image, he probably wouldn't be pleased.
And oh, how much he had been used. His hands, his face, his breath…
Drying himself off with a plush towel, Dr. Stone shuddered. Unconsciously, he twisted his lips into a grimace.
Why did such a beautiful, such a sexy man, who had stormed into his carefully laid-out plan to survive this year of exile without getting into trouble, have to be straight?
Why couldn't fate smile on Colin by making Brad gay?
Was this some cosmic cruelty? A test of his resolve? A punishment for what he had done to deserve this exile in White Shore?
God, tomorrow he'd have to somehow look Brad in the face. That was going to be so awkward.
He just hoped he wouldn't give anything away—that he wouldn't show what he had done with the fantasy of his landlord.
Because that would be just a little bit humiliating.
For them both, unfortunately.
He sighed.
And to think—he really, absolutely wasn't supposed to complicate his life!