Owning Corey (27 page)

“Have you never been attracted to men before?”

“No, never.”

“Well, we can’t choose who we love, son. I suppose every once in a while, someone comes along who resonates so powerfully with us that it doesn’t matter if they don’t fit our idea of an ideal mate. And that means this must be some kind of special man, so you might better hang onto him.”

*****

My talk with Blanche has me floating around in a daze. I almost can’t wrap my head around the fact that the words
I’m gay
came out of my mouth. It’s something I could never have foreseen.

Now I’m being forced to entertain the notion that it may actually be true. And ironically, my confession has come on the day Corey moved out. This life of mine is getting more convoluted by the day.

If it spins any more out of control, I might have to go away for a while just to take stock of things. I’ve got so much money from my inheritance and investments that I could quit work and just go to some tropical island if I wanted. I could ogle women in bikinis, drink so much I pass out every night, learn to dance the Merengue…

Mike’s voice coming over the radio startles me out of my head, and I listen carefully as he dictates Corey’s words.
“Elderly male patient with a history of COPD, presented with shortness of breath and mild chest pains, nitro administered, oxygen at three liters via nasal cannula. O2 sats ninety-six percent. ETA five minutes.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Julie says.

“I agree. Sounds like a COPD exacerbation, possibly some angina. Go ahead and call respiratory for a blood gas, and the lab needs to draw for cardiac enzymes.” I’m glad it doesn’t sound like some awful emergency, but my heart rate picks up just the same at the thought of seeing Corey, especially after the bomb I just dropped on Blanche— and on myself.

By the time the ambulance team comes through the ER doors, I’m wound up not from worrying about a medical emergency, but from plain, old-fashioned sexual tension. When I lay eyes on Corey, the sudden welling of emotion in me is staggering. Spilling my secret in such honest detail has had such a profound effect on me that all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and tell him he’s my man.

My man.

I feel sorry for the poor sap on the gurney. I don’t think he’s in any mortal danger, but it’s impossible to give him every bit of my attention.

Corey leaves Mike to wheel the patient to his bed and comes to stand beside me. “Ben, he’s doing okay. The chest pains are better, but he’s still short of breath. His sats are decent, hovering around ninety-six.”

When I see who they’ve got, I know instantly what the problem likely is. “Mr. Baker,” I call to the skinny elderly patient as they transfer him onto the bed. “Did you crank up your oxygen too high again?”

“I was trying to cut the grass earlier, Dr. Hardy. Got winded.”

“And what did you set your oxygen tank on?” I speak loudly, because I know he’s a little hard of hearing. “What number, Mr. Baker?”

He thinks for a moment, his breathing fast. His exhalations are especially long, even for him, and his lips are drawn tight as ribbons. “Uh… six, I think. Did I do bad?”

I chuckle as I place my stethoscope on his chest and listen to the symphony of crackles common in emphysema patients. “Mr. Baker, I’ve told you time and time again. Even if you get short of breath, you can’t turn your oxygen up that high, okay? No higher than three. When you get too much oxygen in your system, it causes your carbon dioxide to go up, as well. Remember me telling you that?”

“Yes, Doc.”

“That’s what makes you feel this way. Next time you get too short of breath, call us, but don’t turn your oxygen up.”

Mr. Baker’s eyes moisten visibly, and his throat works with emotion. “I just wanted to get over her to see you, Dr. Hardy. I knew you’d make everything okay. When I get so scared, I just need to see you. Then I can calm down, because I know you’ll take good care of me.”

His words are a heavy load on my shoulders. Why do people think I can magically take care of them? I’m just a weak, confused man who can’t even work out my own problems. I can’t imagine what they’re seeing in me.

“Thank you, Mr. Baker.” I clap him gently on the back. “I’m glad you have such confidence in me. I’m no wizard. I just do the best I can.”

He pegs me with his misty, yellowing eyes. “You care. That makes all the difference.”

Corey comes up close on the other side of Mr. Baker. “You’re right. Dr. Hardy is a very caring person, but he doesn’t like to let on.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mr. Baker laughs so hard he wheezes. “My wife always calls him
Dr. Hard-as-Nails
, but we both know he’s got a kind heart.”

“Why do people think I’m so hard, or cold, or whatever?”

“Because you never smile,” a wavering female voice says from the doorway. It’s Mrs. Baker, who has finally caught up to her husband. She shuffles slowly toward us, using a cane to support her weight on the left side, which has been weak since her stroke over a year ago. “You seem so glum all the time… and so particular. But nobody falls for that nonsense. At least none of us who have been your patients. All these other doctors are downright sycophantic with their charming bedside manner. If any of them are on duty and I have another stroke, I’ll send someone around to your house to fetch you. I don’t want anybody else working on me.”

Corey rushes over to help the tiny woman the rest of the way to her husband’s bedside. “Here you go, ma’am. Your husband’s going to be fine. He’s in good hands, as you just pointed out.”

He flashes his drop dead gorgeous smile, and I don’t know what it does to Mrs. Baker, but it gets my heart pounding like a war drum. I can’t help but wish it was directed toward me. He’s barely looked at me since Possum showed up at my house today.

“Corey,” Mike calls from across the room. “You ready to head out to the shack, bud?”

I can’t hide my disgust. “
Bud?
Are you two buds now, after one day?”

Corey rolls his eyes. “Of course not, Ben. I barely pay him any attention.”

Respiratory and the lab show up at the same time to draw blood, crowding us out. I glance at Mrs. Baker who is listening to our exchange with undisguised interest.

“Please excuse us, Mr. And Mrs. Baker… Corey, can I speak to you over here?” I gesture toward the corner of the room with the least activity.

“Sure, what’s up?”

In the corner we’re partially hidden by a curtain, but we’re not invisible, so subtlety is key. “How is everything going? Are you… okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I just saw you a while ago. Nothing has changed since then, I guess.”

So aloof. Is he over me already?

“So you talked to Allie? What did she think about everything?”

Corey leans in so close I can smell my body wash on his skin, and my mind is suddenly flooded with images of him in my shower. “What is this really about, Ben? I know you don’t care what Allie said about it.”

His nearness has me so flustered I can’t breathe properly or make eye contact. My dick has woken up inside my scrub pants, and I’m feeling so messed up I’m actually considering going home sick. There’s no way I can work like this.

He bends even lower, until his lips are close to my ear, and his voice dips down into that intimate register that makes my body hum with desire. “Baby, you’re as nervous as a kitten. What is it?”

I whimper. “Corey, I want…” The words won’t come.

He nips my earlobe with his teeth before straightening back up and stepping away from me. “Meet me in the doctor’s lounge in five minutes.”

He saunters innocently back over to the Bakers. “Feel better, Mr. Baker. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Baker. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll try to check on you guys later.” He pats the man’s frail, spotted hand.

All eyes are on him as he leaves, with Mike puppy-dogging him all the way out. That guy is pissing me off more than I’d care to admit.

By the time I rejoin my patient, the respiratory therapist and lab tech are both wrapping up their blood extractions and heading back to the lab to run the ordered tests. Now it’s just me and the Bakers.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Baker?” I auscultate his chest again, and he jumps at the feel of my cold stethoscope on his bare skin.

“I’ll be doing a lot better if you’ll get that cold-ass thing off of me.” His words are harsh, but he’s laughing, and his wife slaps him on the shoulder.

“Stop it, George… Don’t mind him, Dr. Hardy. The better he can breathe, the more ornery he gets. You can take that as a sign he’s getting better.”

“Alright, then. There’s something I’ve got to go do. Just call if you need me, okay? I’m admitting him for observation overnight, so don’t worry about a thing.”

Mrs. Baker touches me gently on the arm with her good hand. “Thank you for everything.” She drops her voice lower. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s interested in that big blonde fellow. Everything you need to know about a person is in the eyes, you know, and his were focused right on you.”

Mr. Baker struggles to sit up. “What are you talking about, woman? Is she running her mouth about all that eyes are the windows to the soul mumbo jumbo? She’ll run you crazy with that shit.”

“Oh yeah, he’s feeling really good now.” His wife rubs his arm, soothing him back down onto the bed. “You calm down, George. I was just telling Dr. Hardy that your eyes are looking a lot better.”

18

(COREY)

THE back hall is empty leading to the doctor’s lounge, thank goodness. An EMT sneaking in the back door and slipping into the doctor’s lounge would definitely arouse suspicion, especially among the nosy nurses in this place. Now I know what Ben was talking about. These women think they’ve got to know everybody’s business, and they’re not opposed to spreading it around.

Inside the lounge, it’s uncomfortably quiet. Coming in here alone feels a lot like breaking and entering, and unfortunately I would know.

“Hello?” I peek into the bathroom, but it’s empty as well.

I don’t know what’s gotten into Ben today, but there’s no doubt he’s different. The man is all over the map, stoic one minute, crying the next, but the way he was acting in the ER let me know beyond a doubt that it’s time to lay him down.

After a moment of pacing, Ben slips in through the swinging door. He freezes when he sees me, as if it’s some big surprise that I’m here.

“What a coincidence running into you here, doctor. I was just getting a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?”

“Forget the coffee. I had something hotter in mind.”

That’s all I need to hear.

The small round table is still between us, so I move left to come around it, but he moves right at the same time. I immediately dodge right, but he changes direction too, so we’re still no closer to getting at each other.

“Fuck it,” I growl, propping my hip on the table and sliding across. I make it to the other side, but the table tips as I hit the edge, clattering to the floor behind me. I don’t care. I’m going to have Ben if I have to tear the whole place down to do it.

We clash against each other in the middle of the floor, chest to chest, his arms winding around my neck. I widen my stance and band my arms around his waist, cinching him so tightly against me I can feel his cock pressing against mine. I shower kisses down on his mouth, quick and teasing at first, but turning frantic within seconds. His taste, his scent, it’s all overpowering me until I’m running on pure animal instinct.

I walk him backward, pushing him against the wall, crushing him with my weight, stealing his breath with relentless kisses. “Touch me,” I breathe against his cheek.

He snakes a hand down between us, squeezing and rubbing my dick through the thin scrubs, working my aching mass with a strong hand. “I want you, Corey.” He lifts up on his toes and runs his tongue along my bottom lip, covering my mouth in a deep demanding kiss. “I want you to fuck me.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I grab him by the shoulders and spin him around facing the wall and press my painfully hard cock right up into the crack of his ass. Our clothing and the lack of lube is the only thing saving his virtue at the moment, and those won’t be a problem for long.

Suddenly a voice at the door startles us back to reality. “…I think I saw Dr. Hardy come in here a minute ago. Maybe he’s already got—”

The door swings open, and one of the nurses pops in. Ben and I scatter like rats from light, and the nurse stops mid-sentence, her mouth gaping. She slowly takes in the tumbled table, our heavy breathing, the way we’re both standing half turned away from her to hide our erections, me rubbing my neck while Ben fiddles with his hair. If ever in the history of illicit gay love two men looked guilty, we do.

“Um… Is everything okay, Dr. Hardy?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little too coarse.

“Were you two…
fighting
?”

And suddenly we have an out, supplied by the nurse herself.

Why didn’t I think of that?

Ben waves a hand dismissively. “Just a little disagreement. Corey thinks it’s okay to shock a patient who has no rhythm, when clearly it’s not. I set him straight, though. Nothing for you to worry about, Linda.”