Polar Opposites

Chapter 2-2

“You will pay. No one betrays me. No one.” The man’s face clouded in rage as he pointed a finger at Donovan. His eyes, flicking with anger, held a promise. One of retribution. Brutal retribution. “Mark my words. You will pay.”

Donovan jerked awake, the nightmare still fresh in his mind.

He sat up and scrubbed his face, trying to eradicate the images forever. But it never worked. They always came back. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough those memories would invade his sleep and send chills through his body.

“It’s okay. It’s over.” He knew the words were a lie. Relatively safe was more like it. As long as that man walked the earth, Donovan couldn’t be totally free.

The blast of wind through an open window drew Donovan’s attention. Curtains whipped around while thunder rocked the house. He jumped out of bed and hurriedly shut the window. Knowing others were open, he trotted out of his bedroom and sped through the house, closing all of them. The wind howled and the rain poured, but he was safe and dry in his house.

Out of habit, he checked the front and back doors, finding them securely locked. Except for the dead bolt, which he took care of. Content with the state of matters, he glanced at the clock, finding it nearing ten P.M. Donovan returned to his bedroom, flicking on the light as he walked past. Absently, he realized he was naked. Not totally abnormal as many nights he slept without clothing, especially during the hot summer months. Only, this time, he was in the buff with a white cream splotched across his chest and arms. He peered down, to find more of the stuff on the rest of his lower body, covering where the worst of the poison ivy rash had been. He blinked. The bright red patches had dissipated into dull pink, taking the itch with them. Even his little toe no longer insisted on a scratch.

Thank God.

Joyous at the lack of a constant, irritated itch, Donovan returned to sit on the edge of his bed. He turned to find a bottle of pills on his night stand, along with a note. Setting the medication aside for the time being, he picked up the paper and began reading.

Take two of these as soon as you wake up. Two in the morning and two tomorrow night. Then one tablet twice a day for a single day. Then one-half tablet until gone. Be sure to eat with it.

Okay. Easy enough. Donovan read the fine print at the bottom.

And stay out of the damned poison ivy. Doctor’s orders.

Donovan smiled at the crankiness and sheer command coming through loud and clear in the note. TJ was obviously a man used to being in charge. The role came through in person as well as in his writing. Definitely an interesting fact, one that Donovan found intriguing.

He folded up the paper and returned it to the nightstand, noticing a tube of cream leaning against the lamp. He picked it up, read the instructions on the label, then replaced it just like before. He realized that a few things had happened since TJ drove him to the pharmacy and Donovan fell asleep on the ride home.

TJ must have carried him into his small house, dropped him into his bed, and stripped him down. Then, he’d applied the cream to the worst of the spots, wrote out the note, and placed the meds where Donovan would definitely find them. Afterwards, he’d let himself out and locked up.

No small feat and a lot of trouble for a patient, especially a first time one.

Recalling the expression on TJ’s face, Donovan realized that the grizzly shifter wasn’t about to take ‘no’ for an answer. He knew what Donovan needed and ensured he received it.

Donovan rubbed his chin. Wonder if he’s the same way in bed?

The thought came out of the blue and lingered way too long, setting a small fire in Donovan’s blood. The resulting heat made a beeline for his randy c**k, filling it to the point of bursting.

Donovan groaned with the sudden, powerful need. He blew out a breath and tried to offer some rationalization into the situation. It doesn’t matter because he’s not about to look twice at me.

The comment didn’t faze his lust in the least. His shaft stood erect, the slit in the mushroom head already weeping a large dollop of pre-c*m. His balls were heavy and full, testifying to his need as well as the length of time since he’d found release.

TJ’s scent lingered in the room, adding to the heady mix of arousal and desire.

Without hesitation, he opened the bedside table drawer, pulled out a full tube of lube, and squirted a little on his hand. The cool sensation quickly receded as he spread the gel over his engorged d**k. Pleasure shot through him at the erotic touch. He reclined back on the bed and pulled up the memory of TJ bathing in the creek. That superb body. The generous package. That sexy as hell tattoo on his shoulder blade. Those dark, broody eyes. Even the five o’clock shadow gave TJ a roughness that appealed to Donovan’s base animal. Primal. Dominant.

The memory whetted his arousal by leaps and bounds. Add in the scent and he could have been surrounded by the man—at least in his fantasies.

Donovan stroked his c**k with rhythmic caresses. First, slowly and teasing, then with more gusto. Speed and grip strength increased as he writhed on the bed. A grunt escaped his lips as he imagined TJ’s lips wrapped around his c**k, sucking as if there was no tomorrow.

He rolled his balls with his free hand, planted his feet in the mattress, and lifted his hips. His strokes increased as did his breathing. Hot pleasure surged through him even as a sharp tingling began in his groin before spreading throughout.

A sharp cry tore from his throat as Donovan slammed into the c****x with a fury. Wild, rhythmic pulses punctuated the stark, glorious rapture. Liquid essence streamed from the head of his c**k, into the air, before sprinkling his chest.

The last wave passed, leaving Donovan panting and trembling with sensitivity. His pounding heart slowed back to a normal pace, marking the end of the quick hand job.

Donovan opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. The fantasy has dissipated like a tiny mud puddle in the Sahara. Unfortunately. Because he could live in that dream for a good long time to come.

Too bad the object of those imaginings was standoffish and didn’t seem the least interested in a hook-up.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try, though.”

Somewhat cheery and a heck of a lot more relaxed, Donovan wiped up with a towel, took a couple of pills out of the bottle and headed to the kitchen. A glass of water and a couple of crackers later, he returned to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Task done, he reapplied some of the cream to a couple of spots that appeared slightly irritated, then returned to bed, fulfilled for the moment. Dawn would arrive in a few hours along with work and a meeting with the good doctor. After all, he owed him for the prescriptions. And so much more.