by Lily Harlem
An image of Malik hovered before him—his hot, strong body working at the block, sawing, hammering, building up a sweat. The image was erotic in the extreme, not least because Leo was imagining Malik naked. Absolutely naked. Every muscle shimmying beneath the surface of his skin—his back, his arse, his thick thighs all beautifully defined— the perfect male.
Leo dragged his hand to his root. His hips twitched upward for more of his own touch. For a moment he wished he’d brought his butt plug for times like this, but he hadn’t, he couldn’t risk it getting hunted out by Kenyan customs. But still, a man had needs.
“Mmm…” he moaned. With his free hand, he skimmed his fingers over his arsehole. It trembled and the vibrations from his muscles tapped right through his pelvis.
Again he tugged his cock upward. He was almost brutal in his tight hold. He shut his eyes, drew his legs up and quickly spat on his left index and middle finger.
It was no good. He needed both.
He set up a steady pace with his right hand, treating his dick to just the speed and pressure he liked. Although his eyes were shut, the flickering candlelight played on the insides of his eyelids, blood red with shadows twirling this way and that.
He tensed then relaxed his buttocks. He had to curl his spine forward a little to reach his hole. He poked one wet finger inside, teasing himself with the slowness of the entry. He then added another, stretching his sphincter wide, wider and some more, loving the burn that combined with his already aroused state.
On and on he masturbated, yet now he’d also found his prostate. His belly was a row of bricks. It was getting harder to breathe. It felt so damn good, so fucking awesome to be grinding against that gland, getting it going from the front and the back.
“Ahh…” he breathed.
He was in control. He wanted to come now, hard and fast. He also wanted to delay the moment and think about Malik for just a few more seconds—think about Malik and not Hans. Hans needed replacing, if only in his fantasies.
He saw Malik in a wide, clear river. He was walking out of it, not a scrap of clothing on and a great big cock jutting from pubic hair that was as tight and wiry as that on his head. The water was running in streams down his body, carving its way over delineated muscles and skin as smooth and hard as granite.
Leo imagined Malik walking up to him, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him fiercely. It was a kiss that screamed passion, demanded satisfaction and had not an ounce of patience in it.
Leo pushed higher into his arse, pulled out then fucked himself with his fingers. He was imagining they were a stubby little cock banging in and out. He wasn’t gentle, and he’d no doubt feel it tomorrow when he clenched, but that was the fun of it. Leo liked it rough, whether he was alone or with a partner. He liked it slow and gentle, too, but it was wild passion that really stole the show for him.
The bed creaked. He gasped, opened his eyes and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer. The sound of skin-on-skin, the friction of his arm on his belly heated him, sent him higher. The candle flame shivered, agitating the dull shadows that stretched over his body.
Eventually he had to give in to it. The first ropes of cum shot from his balls, raced up his shaft and landed wetly on his abdomen.
He hissed, gritted his teeth and kept up his assault on his body. There was more, and it was coming.
“Ah, yeah…” The next powerful pulse-wave of cum was as wonderful as the first. His arsehole spasmed around his fingers. He rammed into his prostate harder. It was good, so good.
“M…” The word Malik formed on his lips but he clamped his mouth shut. He wouldn’t go that far. Couldn’t. It was shameful enough wanking off with the image of a straight, married man as his fantasy fodder, he wouldn’t gasp his name too.
Yet another, less powerful slap of cum dripped from his cock and as the feelings eased, he slipped his fingers from his back passage. He was panting hard.
“Jesus,” he said, looking at the sticky mess on his stomach. He reached for the tissues and mopped it up. After flicking the net aside, he headed into his bathroom. He dropped the tissues in a bin then washed his hands with some of the hospital soap he’d brought to his room earlier.
His heart was still beating fast and his skin tingling with the intensity of his climax when he went back to the bedroom. Happily, he flopped on top of the covers and pulled the net around himself. His cock was softening but his arsehole still simmered with the occasional pulse of pleasure.
Malik. Walking naked from a river. Taking him, claiming him. Fuck. Was that really the image that had done it? Taken him over the edge? It seemed it was even though he shouldn’t have let it. Perhaps it was the jet lag and the stress of his new appointment. Either way guilt was an emotion he didn’t want to entertain. It could take a hike. He’d done nothing wrong. Masturbating was healthy and perfectly normal. But shouldn’t he be thinking about the hospital a bit more? The dire conditions he was expected to treat these poor people in? And what about that ‘pirate’ Namrin that Sister Afua had talked of? Shouldn’t he be worried about him? About him visiting Cagaha Buurta tonight? Coming to the hospital and stealing the supplies he’d brought all the way from London?
He shut his eyes, touched his cock that was now curved over his thigh, and let his worries float away. There was no point in stressing about all that. Mental energy was limited and he needed it for the job at hand, the job of being a Medic On Hand.
Plus, physically he was satisfied, which was good. So he’d sleep now. Sleep well, and that meant tomorrow he could do all the good doctor things he’d been sent here to do.
Malik was out of his system. He’d beat the goat, yanked the sausage—whatever he wanted to call it—and now he could get back to being Doctor Leo Rotherham, senior registrar from St. Barts with a specialty in tropical diseases. He was efficient, highly trained and not distracted by beautiful men with bodies that screamed to be licked, sucked, bent over and fucked.
He shivered a little, not that he was cold, just at the thought of having Malik doubled in front of him, legs spread, arsehole quivering for his touch.
“Leo,” he muttered with a frown. “Stop it.”
No, he was strong. He would resist all unwholesome thoughts about Malik from now on. He would. It was the only way forward. He had to get a grip of more than just his cock and perform his duties to the very best of his ability.
Chapter Five
Leo stared at Malik who stood before him with his hands on his hips. His jeans sat low and his gray T-shirt had ridden up. Leo could make out just a hint of his belly and the neat strip of short hair that ran from his navel to below the waistband of his black boxers. In appearance he was the least nurse-like person he’d ever seen, yet that was exactly the role he was in.
“So,” Malik said, his voice low and a little gruff. “It seems we’re split in half for this, Doctor Leo.”
“Er, yes. It does.”
Leo tore his gaze away to smile at Sister Afua, who was protecting the small vials of tetanus and measles vaccine with her body. She stood between them and the long line of people who were all waiting patiently. The morning sun sent elongated shadows across the village square and over the well.
“Where is the polio?” Leo asked.
“Here.” Sister Afua set her hand down on a blue cool box beneath the table. “It is all here. I will keep records of who gets it. Some of the older children were given this course two years ago. I don’t want them to have it again. The same goes if we are lucky enough to get another consignment in two years’ time. It has to be fair. People will just keep taking it, even if they don’t need more than one dose. They don’t understand.”
“Okay,” Leo said, “so is the plan Malik takes that queue and I take this one?”
“Yes, that is perfect. I split them in half from the beginning. Call the name to me before you vaccinate and I will double check and say yes or no. If it is a yes, I will cross their name off the list and we will know where we are.”
>
Leo pulled on a pair of latex gloves, adjusting them so they were comfortable around his wrists, then reached for the first needle and syringe.
“Let the crazy begin,” Malik said, doing the same with a pair of gloves.
“Do you think it will be that bad?” Leo asked, glancing at the winding rows of villagers that led backward from the hospital entrance.
Salim had rigged up some awning so that they were standing in the shade, but the people waiting for their turn were in the sun, and it was already a blistering heat, even this time in the morning.
“Yep, all day. We’ll be at it all day.”
Leo bit his lip and reached for a vial. Quickly, he drew up the small amount of liquid and flicked away an air bubble. “Come forward,” he called to the first woman in the line who had three children around her legs and another on her hip.
“What’s your name?” Leo smiled, hoping to put her at ease. She must have been up since before dawn to be the first in line.
“Barangai,” she said.
Sister Afua heard, checked her clipboard and nodded. “Yep, all of them.”
Leo pinched the youngster’s arm, and administered the first dose of many.
****
Six hours later, the vaccinations had all been doled out. Thankfully the line of people had also faded away, so the estimated quantities that Medics On Hand had surmised had been spot on.
“Phew,” Leo said, wiping the back of his arm on his forehead. “That was hard going.” His mouth was dry and his stomach complaining. The section of awning that he stood under was no longer in the shade. The sun had crawled across the baked ground then up him, starting at his feet and ending at the top of his head.
“Yes,” Malik said, not appearing in the least bit ruffled or hot. “But a lot of good comes from one small prick.”
Again Leo pressed his lips together. Was Malik doing it on purpose? Several times he’d said things that had pulled Leo up. Ordinarily, back on his home territory in London, he’d have laughed and joked at the innuendoes, made a fun comment back or chuckled like a conspirator. But he couldn’t do that with Malik. Malik was a straight Kenyan nurse who he barely knew. He’d have to put it down to the language barrier. Malik spoke perfect English but there were many undercurrents and complexities to the language that were usually only played with if one had grown up a native speaker.
“Malik. Malik.”
Leo glanced up at the sound of a light, sing-song female voice.
“Burta,” Malik said with a grin. His face softened and his shoulders relaxed.
The woman from last night walked up to him. She had a bright smile and even brighter eyes. Her jawline was strong and defined and she held her chin up, almost regal-like.
“Doctor Leo, please, meet my sister, Burta.” Malik held out his hand and gestured to the woman at his side.
“Your…your sister,” Leo said.
“Big sister,” Burta said, holding out a small brown bag to Malik. “Here. Your food.”
Malik took it with a grin then tugged off his gloves. “Thank you. I am hungry.”
“I knew you would be.” Burta glanced at Leo. “There are two patties in there. One for you, too, Doctor Leo. Are you hungry?”
Leo nodded. “Yes, very, it’s been a long day.”
“But finished now,” Malik said. “Come. We should get tea and sit in the cool for a while. Thank you, Burta. You are very kind.”
Burta touched the material wrapped around her head then fingered her necklaces. She smiled at Leo and swiped her tongue over her bottom lip.
It was a gesture that Leo recognized as being a habit of Malik’s.
Yes, they were very similar. Brother and sister similar. He should have guessed that last night when he’d seen them talking.
“Maybe you would like to join our family for dinner one evening, Doctor,” Burta said.
“That would be very kind. I’d love to.”
Malik stepped up into the hospital. “Salim will tidy this up, with Sister Afua. Come this way, Doctor Leo.”
“Oh, okay.” Leo smiled at Burta then followed Malik indoors. He tried his best not to admire the other man’s arse, but it was hard not to. He was tired, hot and bothered and his willpower, it seemed, had been sapped by the heat. And damn, it was a nice arse, high and pert. Shame not to give it the admiration it deserved.
They wandered into the small office. Malik set about making tea and Leo sat in a chair. He dropped his head back and shut his eyes. The heat was oppressive and his skin tingled.
Something touched his cheek.
He opened his eyes.
Malik loomed over him, his expression curious and his lips slightly parted. “Your skin does not like the sun,” he said quietly.
“I…er, no.” Leo resisted straightening or jerking away or, in fact, moving at all.
Malik gently stroked the back of his index finger down Leo’s face.
Leo could tell by his eyes that he was watching its journey as though fascinated. He then floated the caress back up again. Slowly, softly, sweetly.
Leo hardly dared breathe.
“You have gone pink.” Malik paused and tipped his head, frowned. “Your white skin is so delicate.” The last words were almost a whisper.
“Yes. I suppose it is.” Leo finally pulled in a breath. It was laced with Malik’s seductive outdoor scent. He was hot, too hot, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate Malik’s body heat radiating toward him. He could take more of that type of heat any day.
“I should have thought more,” Malik said. “I am sorry. We should have switched sides when the sun came in or I should have reminded you to get your hat.”
“It’s fine, really. Nothing a bit of aftersun won’t sort out.” He reached up and touched the very tips of his fingers to Malik’s forearm. He held them there, still, hardly pressing, just a sharing of flesh. Their gazes fixed together.
A flash of surprise crossed Malik’s eyes right before he snapped his hand away and turned back to the tea.
Leo drew his head level and sat upright. He felt dizzy, not from the heat now but from what had just happened. It had been intimate and gentle yet a sensual connection that had seared through him.
Had Malik felt it too? Had he wanted to touch Leo as much as he wanted to touch Malik?
These were questions Leo couldn’t answer. And now Malik was handing him a patty and a drink and the silence between them was acutely uncomfortable.
“So where do you—?”
“How long have you—?”
They’d spoken at the same time.
Not knowing what else to do, Leo grinned at Malik. He was treated to one of Malik’s big smiles that showed all his teeth and stretched his sinfully beautiful lips wide. The tension broke instantly.
“I’m sorry. You go first,” Leo said, relieved.
“Okay.” Malik took a sip of tea. “I just wondered where in England you are from?”
“London. Well, just south of it. But that’s where I’ve always lived. Though I’ve had the urge to travel for a while now. I’m really happy to be here.”
“We are happy to have you.” Malik bit into his patty, chewed then swallowed.
Leo did the same and enjoyed an explosion of spices on his tongue. But not chili-hot spices, they were fragrant and rich and he hummed his appreciation.
“My sister makes the best patties,” Malik said. “And she will have made them extra good for you, the new doctor.”
“That’s kind of her, and they are fabulous.”
“She is serious about you coming for dinner.” Malik gestured at the door, as though pointing to his home.
“Yes, that would be nice. I’d like to meet the rest of your family, Malik.”
“We are poor. We have very little to offer guests other than a small share of food and our company.”
“It is the company I would be going for.”
“Burta’s company?”
“Pardon?” Leo couldn’t keep the s
urprise from his voice.
“You like my sister?”
“She seems very nice, but…”
“You would not marry her.” Malik tutted and shook his head.
“Marry? What. No. I mean, no I wouldn’t marry her. I don’t even know her.” Leo fumbled to find the words.
“But if you did know her? Would you marry her?”
“No, I still wouldn’t. What I mean is, I don’t want to marry a woman at all. That’s why I’m not married. The whole wife and kids thing doesn’t work for me and it’s not in my future.” Leo bit his bottom lip. What the fuck was he talking about? Saying things like this to an African man he barely knew. Homophobia was rife in this part of the world. He knew that. He’d been told by friends to keep his sexual orientation well under wraps.
Malik was silent. He bit into his lunch again.
Leo suddenly didn’t feel so hungry. What had he said wrong? Did Malik really think he’d marry his sister?
A sudden piercing scream interrupted Leo’s thoughts. “What the…?” he said, jumping up and putting his lunch aside.
It was coming from the operating room and was unmistakably female.
He rushed forward, reached the corridor between the two rooms but then was tugged back.
Malik had gripped him around his upper left arm.
Leo spun to face him, giving him a questioning look.
“Childbirth,” Malik said, his brow creased. “Women’s work.”
“But…?”
“It’s no place for a man. You will not be thanked.” Still he held Leo’s arm in a tight grip.
“Please, please, excuse me.” The young nurse with the long plaited hair bustled past holding a bowl of water.
“Is it Inga?” Malik asked.
“Yes. She is progressing fast.”
“Good.” Finally Malik released Leo.
Leo could still feel the pressure from his fingers and the heat from his palm.
The female nurse nodded at Leo as she pushed the door open with her hip. “Please, don’t go too far away, Doctor. She has lost all four of her babies. She can’t deliver them alive.”
