Majid Thalen is a successful doctor with a past who's been working crazy hours. Finally, exhausted, he takes some time off work and decides to get some rest. But he's about to learn that surgery isn't the only thing one must not do when tired.
Zavon Mowat is a sex line operator because the bills and his tuition are not going to pay themselves. When Majid accidentally calls his line, he is instantly drawn in by this man. But there's something in Majid's past that is getting in the way of everything.
Be Warned: m/m sex
Driving home wasn’t easy, but he managed it. He parked the car outside the garage and headed inside. He made his way up the stairs, knowing in the back of his exhausted mind that he had to call Henry. It was probably not something earth-shattering, but he knew how Henry hated not getting at least a call back to say I’ll call you later.
In his bedroom he stripped down to nothing and slid beneath the cool sheets. As a doctor, he learned a long time ago that sleeping was more important than bathing. The brain needed time to rest. Besides, he was sleeping alone, so there was no one there to get offended if he gave off a little musk.
He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in almost three weeks because, even though boss told him to take time off, he just couldn’t. One doctor quit, another retired, and two were too young to take anything seriously. Majid didn’t trust them yet because they hadn’t given him a reason to.
His eyes burned fiercely. Still, he reached for the phone and checked his voice mail.
“Son, it’s your father. Listen, your mother and I are in Austria. We haven’t really settled into the hotel yet, but we wanted to try you again. I guess you’re still at the hospital—we love you and we miss both you and Henry. I’m going to call him after this call.”
Beep!
Majid paused the voice mail and took a breath. He smiled. He’d been worried about his parents. They’d taken a European vacation—something they always wanted to do, but with his father’s career as a cop and his mother’s teaching and raising the boys, they never did get around to it.
The next message was from some telemarketer trying to get him to sign up for another credit card, and the one after that was his best friend and adopted brother, Henry.
“Dude, you really need to lay off the multiple shifts at that hospital. Call me, okay? Mom and Dad are looking for you.”
Another beep.
Rolling his eyes, he dialed Henry’s number and waited for him to pick up. While it rang, Majid fought the heaviness of his eyelids by thinking of everything.
“What’re you wearing?”
Majid’s eyes snapped open, then he laughed. “Clothes.”
“Well, that’s not conducive to what we’re about to do.”
“Henry, stop playing. You wanted me to call you and I’m exhausted.”
The voice on the other laughed huskily. “I am not Henry.”
Majid rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Look, I could have called Mom and Dad, you know. So what’s up?”
“Trust me, you did not call Henry.”
“Um… who did I call?”
“You called my very own private line of pleasure.”
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