Patient Privilege (11 page)

"No, I'm fine. I've already bent the rules too much tonight." Erik half-smiled. "I have a friend staying at the Palomar. I'll sleep there for a few hours."

"Okay," Jon said. "Hey, thanks for everything you've done for Angel. It means a lot."

"I know what he's going through and I hate to see anyone suffer like that alone. He'll be okay. We'll get him on the right track."

Jon smiled. "You're a good man, Dr Daniels."

"Thanks."

Jon got out of the car and Erik kept an eye on him until he disappeared behind his apartment door. In the short time he'd known Jon and Angel, he had become so protective of them both, and in a way, that kind of scared him. If Erik didn't take a step back now, this could become a problem. He was quickly becoming too personally invested in those two, tip-toeing on that gray line of ethics he'd been warned about as he'd sought out his higher education.

Shaking it off, he turned his beater around and headed straight to the Palomar, straight to Marshall. He didn't remember the drive, didn't remember any particular thought, and if that wasn't a testament to how exhausted he was, he didn't know what would be.

He hauled his body into the hotel, to the elevator and up to the third floor. "Shit!" He'd forgotten to call Marshall. Hopefully his ex would hear him knocking. Marshall always heard him banging on the door when he'd hauled himself home at three in the morning, too drunk to figure out which key unlocked the door. But back in those days, Marshall waited up, worrying about him until he saw Erik's face again.

With a sigh, he raised his fist and knocked on the door. His forehead pressed against the wood as he let out a hard yawn. He heard shuffling inside the room and silently thanked God for keeping Marshall awake.

The door sprung open and Erik nearly fell on his face, but Marshall's arms caught him. It shouldn't have been an awkward moment, even with Marshall standing there in all his male glory, in nothing but his boxer briefs, but it was—or at least it felt awkward. Maybe because his clumsiness in front of such a beautiful man was an absolute embarrassment. And for a moment, Erik lost himself to the feel of his palms against that incredible chest.

Heat rushed his face and he suddenly felt compelled to pull away. "Sorry. I'm so tired."

"I know." Marshall touched his cheek, brushing his thumb over Erik's skin. "It shows." He moved from the door and swept his arm in toward the room. "Come in. Relax. Rest."

"Thanks," Erik said as he squeezed by his ex-partner. He immediately peeled off his jacket and shirt and laid them across a chair before kicking off his shoes. With all the weight of two beautiful, but damaged boys on his shoulders and enough exhaustion to drop an elephant, he sank down onto the edge of Marshall's bed.

Marshall sat down beside Erik, rubbed a circle at the small of his back and kissed Erik's bare shoulder.

"They're really troubling you, huh?"

"Yeah, they are. The one who entered the program told the other one he didn't want to see him anymore. And to top it off, I think I am getting too emotionally involved with these boys now."

"Get some sleep, Erik. Everything will be clearer once you've rested."

"You know, my body is tired, but I don't think I could sleep right now."

"Like I said, relax." Marshall slid back on the bed, climbed under the covers. He patted the empty spot beside him and smiled. "You can cuddle with me. You always were the best cuddler."

Erik laughed as he slid back to join him. Setting his glasses on the nightstand, he curled around his lover, laying his head on Marshall's chest. He wrapped his arms around Marshall's waist and Marshall pulled the covers over their bodies as Erik pressed soft kisses to his pecs.

"I miss this," Erik whispered.

"Me too," Marshall said. He laid his head back against the pillow and brushed his fingers through Erik's hair. "I want to have this again, Erik."

Chapter Twenty

Those words stopped Erik's heart. They took his breath away and warmed him from the inside out. Was Marshall really serious about wanting to be with him again? Or did he just say that because he wanted to have that closeness with someone—
anyone
—again?

Erik suddenly remembered his ex asking him to move back to San Francisco. He hadn't had a chance to say "Yes" or "No" because of the phone call from his beautiful, tragic new friends. Could he honestly consider abandoning them, not to mention Chris, his thirteen-year-old meth addict? He closed his eyes as he tried to process everything. He tried to be the calm, cool, level-headed doctor.

"I want to have this again too, Marshall," he said against the muscled waves of his ex-partner's chest. The unspoken "but" lingered in the air. He felt Marshall's fingers rake through his hair and he had to fight the urge to look up at him. If he looked into Marshall's sparkling green eyes, he would melt and, most likely, give in to his every whim and desire.

"But… something is stopping you."

Erik let out a hard sigh. He still couldn't bring himself to look up. It just felt better that he didn't.

"I've always wanted the best for you, you know?"

"I know," Marshall said softly. He rolled his body which caused Erik to finally lift his head. Marshall turned over and wrapped himself around Erik, claiming his lips with an intensity that made Erik's heart and sex swell.

Marshall's fingertips lightly glided over Erik's ribs, tickling his flesh in a beautifully tender way. His tongue brushed the roof of Erik's mouth, swirling and licking and thrusting. He moaned against his ex-partner's lips and rolled his body so Erik could feel just how badly Marshall had missed him.

Erik pressed his palms against Marshall's shoulder, easing them both out of the kiss. His eyes opened slowly, meeting Marshall's confused stare. "What are we doing?"

"Making out. Maybe making love if all goes well," Marshall said with a smile as he leaned down to finish the kiss.

"No." Erik stopped him. His tired brown eyes searched Marshall's face, back and forth, back and forth again. "You tell me you miss this. What do you miss, exactly? Fucking me? Being near me? What?"

"I miss you," Marshall said. He brushed his thumb over Erik's lip. "I miss what we had. I… I want to have a home with you again." He pressed his lips to Erik's forehead. "I never stopped loving you, baby. I didn't want you to go, but we both needed that break."

Erik held Marshall, hugging him with everything he had. That was exactly what he needed to hear. He needed this to be about more than just sex, just rekindling the lust they had for each other before it had ever ignited into full-blown love.

"Nothing would make me happier," he whispered. "I've felt so incomplete since I left."

"Why won't you tell me what the 'but' is that you insist on omitting?"

"I can't leave Los Angeles, Marshall, not right now. I have patients who need me."

"But that's not a 'no', just a 'not right now', right?"

Erik smiled, stroking his thumb back and forth over Marshall's lips as he stared up at those incredible, intoxicating, green eyes.

"That's exactly what it is."

"Make love to me, Erik. Make love to me like you used to," Marshall begged, drawing the tip of his lover's thumb between his lips.

Erik slipped out from under him and Marshall lay face down on the bed, the dark, silky sheets twisting around their bodies. He kissed his ex's back as he reached for the lube they'd left on the night stand. His erection brushed the perfect curve of Marshall's bare bottom and that only made him throb harder.

"I only wanted us to be happy," Erik whispered as he lubed his hand.

"We'll be happy again," Marshall breathed.

Closing his eyes again, Erik swallowed back the excitement and lust and love and fear that had formed a hard knot in his throat. He'd never stopped loving Marshall, but he'd taken his heart back long ago. He wouldn't give it away so easily again.

After slathering the lube all over his shaft, he eased down and slipped his firm length between Marshall's cheeks. The head of his erection teased at the warm opening. Marshall hissed and let out a breathy "Oh God", prompting Erik to push a little harder.

As always, Marshall felt amazing and welcomed everything Erik had to give, as if it were meant for only him. His body spread-eagle on the soft, silken sheets of his five-star hotel, Marshall arched his back, thrusting his ass in the air as Erik fell into rhythm.

Erik's bare chest pressed against Marshall's back, hips wedged between his thighs. Keeping his arms around his lover's waist, he thrust inside and pulled back slowly. His sac tightened, cock pulsing as the pressure became stronger.

Marshall's excited moans rumbled through his body and—though it might have been his imagination—Erik swore he felt the tingle against his lips. Moments like this, with Marshall beneath him while he made love to him, it made the idea of leaving Los Angeles even more appealing than it might've been before. To be in Marshall's arms every night, to wake up beside him again, it would be a dream come true. Hell, the offer alone was more than he could've dreamed of.

"That's it, baby," Marshall rasped.

Erik's hips rolled again and again. He picked up speed, thrust a little deeper. His fingers splayed over Marshall's pec, fingers toying with the man's hardened nipple. He kissed the back of Marshall's neck. Marshall tilted his head forward and Erik laved the sensitive skin with his soft tongue.

"I love you so much," Marshall cried.

"I love you too," Erik panted as his erection throbbed harder. "Oh God," he cried out. "Oh, God!"

"That's it, baby. Come for me," Marshall begged with the same airy voice.

And that was all it took. Erik came hard—toe-curling hard. He gripped Marshall's hip as he growled his pleasure into the air, but he wasn't finished because he hadn't shown Marshall the same exquisite, thunderous pleasure.

Pulling out of Marshall's warm body, the hand that gripped his lover's hip gave a hard shove and Marshall rolled onto his back. Erik lowered his head, took the pleading, aroused cock into his mouth. He licked away the silky drop teetering on the tip of Marshall's erection, then ran his tongue up and down the shaft. His hand massaged Marshall's sac and Erik's tongue threaded over the sensitive ridge of that beautiful, hardened member.

Marshall arched, pressing himself deeper into Erik's mouth. His eyes rolled back and he bit down on his bottom lip. The moan that filled the air sounded as if it had started in Marshall's groin, twisting and turning up his body until it found an escape through the curve of his plump lips.

"Erik, I'm close," he rasped, but Erik already knew. He felt it in the pulsing of Marshall's shaft, in the tightening of his sac. His head bobbed faster. His tongue stroked harder. "Holy shit!" Marshall screamed out as he filled Erik's mouth with hot, bitter cum.

Erik swallowed down his lover's release. The softened cock slipped out of his mouth and he laid his head against Marshall's thigh. He was absolutely spent, and now, hints of sunlight spilled through the dark curtains. He hadn't had the first wink of sleep, but it had been completely worth it. To pleasure Marshall the way he had, to see the pure felicity on his lover's face, in his slightly parted lips and fluttering eyes, the sacrifice had been completely and totally worth it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Less than forty-eight hours had passed. Angel watched the clock tick away the minutes and it'd been like watching grass grow. In twenty-two minutes, he could mark another day away, but it hadn't been an easy one. In fact, it'd been a hard, kick-in-the-balls sort of day with nothing but the walls to keep him company, nothing but the voices in his head to talk to. His body felt like one used and abused, vapid waste of space.

Already, he hated every motherfucker in that God-forsaken hospital, clinic, rehab center… whatever they wanted to call it. They were all out to make him crazy, he just knew it. Probably laughed behind his back while he suffered. No one wanted to help him. No one wanted to ease his suffering.

And why the hell hadn't Dr Daniels been by to see him yet?

He lay in that lonely, uncomfortable twin bed, sweating and swearing to God the walls were closing in tighter around him. He knotted his fingers in his spiky black hair and pulled hard at the matted sprigs as he fought the urge to scream out or cry. Shivers ran down his spine. This place was almost scarier than the worst of the fleabag motels he'd stayed in.

He hadn't slept since he'd arrived. Oh, he'd tried closing his eyes, but the shit he'd seen behind his lids had been far worse than the four threatening off-white walls. He wasn't going to survive ninety days in this place. No way.

"Luke?" The blonde nurse who'd been taking care of him called from the door.

"Don't fucking call me that!" he growled, jerking his head up from the pillow. "My name is Angel!"

"Sorry, Angel," she said. "Can I come in?"

"What do you want?"

"It's time for your meds, and trust me, you want what I have in this cup."

She held a little paper cup of green liquid in her tiny hand. Angel's nose curled. The shit looked like something from a bio-chemical spill, like it would make an arm grow out of his forehead.

"What is that?" he asked, nodding at the cup.

"Liquid methadone. It's a small dose. For the heroin withdrawals."

Angel reached his trembling hand out to take the cup, but she didn't give it to him. It stayed locked in the safety of her calm fingers because she obviously didn't trust his ability to keep the little piece of paper in his hand.

"Want me to do it for you?" she asked, giving him a soft, understanding smile.

Shamed, he lowered his head and nodded. "Please."

The nurse lifted the cup to his lips. Her other hand rested on the back of his neck. Together, he tilted his head and she tilted the cup. The green goo rolled down his tongue and the taste of it curled his features. His eyelids clenched and he shook his head.

"That shit's nasty."

"I know, but you're going to feel much better in a few minutes." Giving him a reassuring grin, she patted his shoulder. "Dr Daniels should be in here to see you soon."