Rick Sexed Up the Doc Read Online Free

blankly. He had expected construction. “Chairs?” Then he swallowed, trying to clear the squeakiness out of his voice.
    Brian smiled largely at him. “Among other things. My family took to calling me Hickory because I talked nonstop about my job when I first got it.”
    Rick choked on his drink. He grabbed his maroon cloth napkin and wiped his chin. He decided not to tell Brian of his earlier thoughts when looking at the delicious color of skin. Brian looked at Rick inquiringly, standing up as if to help him further with the Heimlich Maneuver, if needed. But Rick waved him off. “Excuse me. Sorry. Please, go on,” Rick encouraged him when he could speak.
    Brian gave him a curious look, but continued. “I also began buying their furniture when I saw how they were made. Great company to work for, but I needed to be outside more so I joined a construction crew which travelled, and ended up here.”
    “How long you sticking around?” Rick hoped for an answer beyond a few days. The aroma of meat cooking, with that tangy, sweet, concoction Rick associated with Mexican food, permeated the air. He was hungry—not just for food.
    “Indefinitely. I signed on to work any contracts in this area. I’m overseer for the Washington projects the company has going on. What do you do?”
    Rick felt the twinge of fear of this strong, earthy man laughing at his own career, but still proudly told him. “I’m an artist.” Outside, he showed only nonchalance. Inside, he waited for the sneer, the coldness many of his ex-girlfriend’s friends and family had treated him. What he wasn’t ready for was Brian’s enthusiasm.
    “No shit? That’s great. I loved crafting the wood with my hands. Wished more of it was done by hand. Born in the wrong era for that. Course, in a different era, I may have been picking cotton whether I liked it or not. Quarter negro still counted as slave, back in the day.” Brian’s eyes were on him intently, studying his reactions.
    “A quarter? Really? I didn’t do so well in history unless it had to do with art,” Rick replied.
    Brian’s low laugh sent tendrils of awareness through him and he lost track of what he had been saying. Rick squirmed as his jeans pulled tight across his erection. Brian must have noticed Rick’s restless movement because his own eyes flared with sudden heat. Feeling like a teenager on his first date, Rick racked his head for something to talk about.
    Thankfully, their dinner came and the conversation flowed easily from there. Rick found excuses to touch Brian’s hands to see how at ease he would be. Rick was dominant. He needed a man willing to be submissive to him, or at least not try and control him.
    “One thing about this valley, you can get some decent Mexican food,” Brian said.
    “Yes, you can,” Rick said pointedly. Brian’s Hispanic roots were obvious to Rick who studied and painted faces all the time. Rick’s breathing increased and he enjoyed the way Brian swallowed hard. The small signs of sexual tension only made Rick hotter.
    “Do you follow orders well?” Rick asked him.
    “If I wish to,” Brian said without shyness. “I can be sub or Dom to answer what I think you’re really asking.”
    Imagining Brian laid out with his hands cuffed to the four poster bed at his house had Rick’s stomach doing flip flops and his jeans were now so tight, he could not have stood up for any reason without serious pain to his cock. Brian’s shirt pulled across his chest as he reached for the saltshaker and Rick’s mouth went dry. Definitely piercings.
    By the time dinner was over, he knew he wanted to sleep with Brian and didn’t see any reason to pretend otherwise. When they walked back out to their vehicles, Rick followed him to the truck. “Hey, I don’t live too far from here. Want to follow me home for a beer?”
    The sexual tension sprang up between them again. Both knew what he really wanted and it wasn’t a drink. “I haven’t been with a man in a long