Learning-to-Feel (5 page)

"Ah, the painter... Trent Jamieson," he recalled. "How's the house coming along? Is he nearly done?"

I remembered the real estate lady telling me my housemate would only be staying in Belfast for as long as he was painting the house. "Still a bit of work to do," I said. "It’s a big old house."

Chief Peters launched into the history of the house and who'd lived in it for the last however many years. I didn’t pay much attention because my mind was stuck on Trent leaving town.

And I wasn’t sure I liked that idea.

"He seems like a nice kid," Chief Peters said, "a bit of a wanderer." Then he grinned. "The women of Belfast won't know what to do with
two
new youngbloods in town. Tongues are wagging, hearts are aflutter already," he laughed at his own not-funny-at-all joke, and I smiled obligingly, though I wasn’t about to tell him the women of Belfast were wasting their time.

He told me his daughter worked at the hospital pharmacy, and I thought I knew who he meant. My suspicions were confirmed when the mousy-brown haired girl I’d seen a few times today walked out and called him 'dad'. Chief Peters put his arm around her, and they walked out, her head was down as she mumbled something to him. I thought it was sweet.

The day wrapped up, nothing too strenuous, more administration than anything else, and I headed home. It was late and I didn’t expect to find Trent awake, but he was. He was watching TV with Bentley's head on his lap.

His eyes glistened, and he smiled his one-dimple-smile when I walked through the door. "So, how was your first day?" he asked.

He rolled his eyes when I told him how the entire female population stopped by to see what the fuss was about, but apart from that, nothing too exciting to report.

"Oh, I met Chief Peters," I said, taking a seat next to him. "It’s nice that his daughter works at the hospital."

He looked a little baffled by my comment, so I explained, "It was great to see placement positions for people with learning difficulties in small communities."

He huffed out a laugh, but still looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"The Chief's daughter, Danielle, Dani? Is that her name?" I asked, and Trent nodded. "She has cognitive impairment... doesn't she?"

Trent burst out laughing, scaring the dog. "No Nathan, she doesn't."

I thought back to every time I saw her that day. "Oh, but she... every time I saw her, she... " and then I got it.

Trent leaned toward me, but he was laughing. "Every time she saw you," he said through his laughter, "did she have a glazed-over look in her eyes with her jaw hanging open?" And he imitated the exact look, a thoroughly stunned look, the very look the Peters girl had when she saw me.

I nodded, and he laughed louder. "Oh my God," he croaked "That’s priceless! She’s totally hot for you. Please tell me you said something to the Chief about his daughter having diminished learning capabilities. What did you call it? Cognitive impairment?"

I pushed his shoulder, but started laughing myself. "No, thank fucking God I didn't."

He was chuckling at my expense and smiled brilliantly. "I don’t think he'd have shot the new doctor."

I got up and walked into the kitchen, leaving him still laughing on the sofa. He soon followed, still grinning. "So, did all the other women that came to ogle the new doctor have cognitive impairment?"

"It’s not that funny," I told him.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because you're cute," I answered, but I froze when I realized what I’d just said.

He grinned spectacularly, surprised. "Am I?"

I huffed out a breath and ignored his question, I opened the fridge and scouted for something to eat.

"Nathan," he said softly. When I finally looked back at him, he was still smiling. "Do you think I’m cute?" he asked in a teasing manner, but I couldn’t handle it.

"Look, Trent," I said exasperated. "This is a lot for me to take in, okay? This is all new to me, that you're a man, that I’m finally feeling
something
for the first time in my life. I’ve had barely forty-eight hours to deal with the fact I’m attracted to a guy, okay? I’m trying to get my head around what it means that I’m attracted to
anyone
, so give me a fucking break."

My words were louder and harsher than I intended, and I saw the sting of them in his eyes. I closed my eyes tightly and pulled at my hair with both hands.

When I opened my eyes to tell him I was sorry, he wasn’t there.

CHAPTER 6

When I got up the next morning, last night's outburst at Trent was heavy in my chest. I took Bentley for his morning run, fed him his toast - and mine - then got dressed for work. There was still no sign of Trent by the time I left, and I couldn’t say I blamed him.

I got to work and started with some paperwork, but the day soon turned busy enough with the usual admissions. I saw the Peters girl scurrying through the halls. When she was talking to other people, she was smart and witty, but she still got that glazed look every time she saw me. It made me smile.

When I got home that night, the house was dark and quiet. Bentley greeted me cheerfully, but I was disappointed Trent still didn't want to face me. I knew it was late, but it wasn’t
that
late. I knew him avoiding me was my own doing. He probably thought he was doing me a favor by giving me space.

But I didn’t want him to.

I sat and stared at the TV for a while, but I couldn't tell you what I watched. Finally I crawled into bed, hoping tomorrow would be a new day in more ways than one.

But it didn't start out that way. I got up to find Bentley was not in his bed or in the house, and Trent's truck was gone. He must have got up and left early to avoid me. I did my best to ignore thoughts of him and the hollow aching lump in my stomach, and went to work.

I was kept busy until mid-afternoon by two kids from a nearby town, who thought motorbike riding without protective clothing was fun. Nothing critical, just scrapes, cuts and bruises, and one had a torn cruciate ligament in his knee. But they'd both live to boast about it.

The Chief was there, of course, and his daughter was not far behind him. She was lecturing the two boys about the dangers and the stupidity. "Jeez Scott, what the hell were you thinking?" she scolded him. "Adam will tan your hide."

Then the other kid laughed. "Toby, it’s not funny," Dani chided, "you could have been seriously hurt."

They rolled their eyes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was then she looked at me and got that glazed over, stupid look on her face. I found myself smiling, and she blushed before scurrying away. I couldn’t wait to tell Trent because he'd think it was funny. Then I remembered that Trent wasn't exactly talking to me, and my smile drained away.

Goddamn it.

The rest of the afternoon blurred by, and all too soon I was walking up the front steps of the house wondering what I'd find. The house was dark except for the kitchen light, and the silence was deafening.

I threw my bag on the table, and with a defeated sigh, I walked into the kitchen. And he was there. He was standing with his back to me, wearing grey sweat pants and a black tee shirt. He knew I was there, but he still wouldn't look at me.

I quickly crossed the space between us and stood behind him. His chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing, but his head was down, and he was gripping the bench.

I leaned in toward him but didn’t touch him. His skin prickled where my breath touched him, and I whispered, "I’m sorry." His breath stuttered, but still he said nothing. I ran my nose against the curls at the nape of his neck, and he shivered. "I didn't mean what I said."

His voice was raspy. "Yes, you did."

I leaned my forehead against the back of his head, and my hands ghosted over his back. He knew he was right. So I amended, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He exhaled loudly, leaned back against me, just a little. For a long moment, we didn’t speak.

But my heart was pounding, and my stomach twisted with nerves. I felt his body heat, and it was heightening. The exhilaration, the thrill of just being near him... "What is this," I asked, "... between us? Is it always like this?"

He shook his head. "No, it’s never been like this."

My hands touched him with more certainty. He felt so good, so fucking good. My hands stopped at his waist, my fingers digging in to hold him tighter. His head fell back against mine. I pressed my lips to the exposed skin of his neck and whispered, "I don’t want to fight it anymore."

He turned in my arms and pulled me against him. All of him. His entire front was flush with mine. I felt his hardening length pressing against mine, and he kissed me. He wasn’t being careful or hesitant. He was demanding and urgent. His mouth devoured me, and I was lost. I gave myself to him in this kiss, as our mouths opened and our tongues collided, our bodies meshed together.

And I surrendered.

I didn’t want to fight this, whatever
this was
, again. I didn’t want to question my desire. I just wanted to allow myself to feel.

My whole body was on fire, burning deliciously, and my head started to spin. He pulled his mouth from mine and kissed along my jaw, up to my ear and back down my neck so I could finally breathe. He continued licking and sucking on my neck, and I realized I was groaning.

My arms were tight around him, and I loved the feel of his strong muscular frame, his broad shoulders. My hands pushed against his back, pulling him against me and it still wasn’t close enough. I pulled his shirt up and started pulling it over his head. He pulled his lips away from my neck as I discarded it. His eyes were wide, his lips were swollen and beautiful, and his bare chest was heaving in ragged breaths. "Nathan, what are you doing?"

I smiled at him. "I have no fucking idea," I told him honestly as I pulled at my tie, loosening it just enough to pull it over my head. Then I started on the buttons of my shirt.

I got most of them undone before he batted my hands away and undid the rest himself. I busied my hands on his chest, feeling the hard planes of his pecs under my hands, the feel of another man under my touch. It felt so good, and so fucking right. My hands continued down to his abs, not too defined but taut, perfect, and my hands kept going.

I needed to feel him, touch him, and so I did. I slid my hands over the fabric of his sweat pants and wrapped my hand around his long, hard dick. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing, and the sensation of pumping another man's cock was unusual, even through his pants. But I handled him like I'd handle myself; firm, sure, squeezing.

His whole body convulsed at my touch, and when he groaned the sexiest sound I’d ever heard, I knew I was doing it right. He kissed me, hard and urgently, while I pumped him the best I could through the fabric.

My shirt was hanging opened, and his hands were at the button of my pants. The next I knew, my fly was open, and his hand was down the front of my pants, skin on skin. His hand wrapped around my aching cock, and my kiss faltered as my mouth stammered in sensation.

It felt so fucking good, so real and so fucking right. I let go of his dick and slipped my hand under the waistband of his pants. He hissed beautifully when I wrapped my fingers around him.

His cock was like silk on steel as he thrust into my fist, and he groaned low in his chest. His tongue was in my mouth, and I sucked on it, making his hand pump harder on my cock. It was all I needed. My length swelled and twitched as I thrust into his hand, against his body. My mouth broke from his so I could tell him, "Fuck Trent, gonna come."

His lips were at my ear, his breath shivering down my spine, tightening my balls. "Come on me," he whispered and like his words were the key, my cock exploded in his hand.

Thick, hot come spurt violently onto his stomach as my orgasm sent white lights through my senses. My hand that still held his shaft reflexively squeezed and pulled as he rammed himself into my tightened hold. I felt his cock pulse and thicken as he shot his load onto us both.

He squeezed me as his orgasm sent his body into spasms, and he milked my dick of come. I continued to stroke him as he softened in my hand and slumped against me. We were sweaty and sticky, and I didn’t care. His eyelids were heavy, and his lips were curled in a post-orgasm smirk. I couldn’t help but kiss him.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured against my lips.

"Baby?" I asked.

"Shut up," he chuckled, "Baby."

I laughed and kissed his lips again. "Mmmm, shower," I said, and without waiting for a response, I took his hand and led him up the stairs.

CHAPTER 7

I turned the water on, and I knew he was behind me. I felt his eyes on me. I could sense him. My pants were undone, so I pushed them off my hips and collected them off the floor, folded them in half and hung them neatly over the rail. I shrugged out of my shirt and folded it too, while Trent peeled off his sweat pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. He smiled and shrugged as I grinned at him.

I stepped under the shower spray first, quickly scrubbing at the mess that was drying onto my stomach. I leaned my head back into the water, and when I opened my eyes, Trent was standing before me. His eyes were dark, and he hummed as he took me in.

I lathered up some body gel and pulled him under the spray, trading places with him. He leaned back in the water, and I took my time while I washed him down so I could admire his form. He was lean, muscular, his uncircumcised dick hung heavy and limp, and he had a star tattooed on his hip. I washed his abdomen, his chest and up to his neck. He was watching me watch him, and I wasn’t shy about it. He was beautiful.

As a doctor, I’d seen thousands of naked bodies. Granted, I’d never been naked in the shower with them, but the naked human body was simply anatomy to me. It always had been.

Until now.

I was naked, in the shower, with a man. A man who I’d just given a hand job to. A man who pumped me into orgasm. A man. I thought I wasn't anywhere near ready to be so intimate, skin on skin, with a guy. Guess I was wrong.