Page 17 of Quinton's Quest

He tongued my slit and then raked his teeth gently along my length.

“Coming is a distinct possibility.” I said the words through gritted teeth.Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t fucking come—

He deep throated me.

I came.

Spectacularly.

Hard. So hard, I banged my head against the door when I arched my neck back.

Waves of pleasure crashed over me—again and again and again.

I soared far above the earth and circled the mountains outside town. I looked down to see forests of green. Then, back in the office of the most arrogant surgeon I’d ever met, I gazed down into his deep-green eyes.

He continued to suck and, eventually, pulled off me with apop. Then he kissed my deflated cock, licked his lips, and rose.

Before I could react, he had me plastered against the door again with his tongue thrust into my mouth.

I could taste myself. So carnal. So fucking hot.

Finally, he pulled back. His eyes appeared unfocused.Because he’s not wearing his glasses?I didn’t know him well enough to begin to guess now nearsighted he was. Or maybe they were reading glasses.

He grabbed his crotch. “Good thing I have an extra pair of pants.”

I cocked my head.

“Patient threw up on me once, and I learned just to keep extra clothes in my office. I also have scrubs, of course—”

“I should get going.” I yanked my underwear and jeans up—tucking my very spent cock into them. I zipped up, gave him one quick kiss, and was gone.

Only when I was on the highway back to Mission City did I realize we hadn’t settled anything.

Chapter Six

Leo

I’d sweated through my scrubs and was happy to strip out of them at the end of my shift. I had a quick shower and redressed in my khaki pants and button-down shirt.

And breathed a sigh of relief.

A keen nurse in the emergency room had recognized the symptoms of a pulmonary embolism even before the harried doctor had a chance. Luckily, that woman didn’t question anything.

As soon as the patient was diagnosed, she was on my table.

I saved her life.

She was now in recovery—being watched over by the competent Quinton. How did I know he was good at his job? Aside from my own instincts, which were pretty good, about a dozen staff members had assured me he was the best.

As good as his mother, my anesthesiologist had piped up.

Apparently Mrs. Zhang had been a nurse in the hospital for thirty years. She was eligible for retirement, but chose to staybecause she loved her job. And everyone here loved her. Nothing but praise for mother and son.

Which made me feel even guiltier about my offhanded comment about lazy nurses. And the blow-job and hand-job debacle.

With Yulia Melnyk in recovery, I’d been able to breathe. The young mother had brought her family from Ukraine to avoid the war. If not for a quick-thinking nurse in the emergency room, she might’ve been a casualty and her three young children would have been motherless.

“Great job.” Dr. Lucia Maroni waved me down as I emerged from the change room.