4-Bound By Danger (14 page)

“What’s up his ass?” Jace muttered.

“I’ll tell you later,” Sawyer said, and Jace agreed because they were literally about to drown. While they’d kept in touch, Sawyer mainly wanted to hear about things with Clint and hadn’t mentioned any Rex drama.

Four hours later, waterlogged but dry, Jace waited on Sawyer, having grabbed both of them lunch.

“And don’t come back until you remember how we do things around here!” Rex roared as minutes later, Sawyer slammed into the private mess the SEAL team used. Thankfully, Jace was the only one to hear the yelling, but Sawyer was oddly not as pissed or embarrassed as he normally was.

He looked—confused, almost. And it didn’t take much for him to spill about the phone calls.

“Phone sex,” he clarified around a mouthful of sandwich.

“You called him?”

“Other way around.”

Jace raised his brows. “That’s a start.”

“I’m a fucking coward,” Sawyer muttered. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“I’m not pushing you. When it happens, it happens.”

Sawyer snorted, and Jace continued, “You’d think that the yelling would’ve improved. He’s almost worse.”

“I know. It’s almost like he’s pissed that he even has feelings for me.”

“Any idea why?”

“None.” Sawyer sat back and glanced around the busy mess hall. His friend got hit on as much, if not more so than Jace himself by women and men. He had a similar look to Jace’s, although Sawyer’s hair was darker, but Sawyer’s face held a harder edge.

Dammit, he didn’t like to watch the guy in pain.

He shifted in his seat, as his ass had finally unfrozen and was beginning to sting again from the spanking and the various other ways Clint finished him last night, and he tried not to wince.

“Clint around?”

“Yeah, he’s around, all right.” It was Jace’s turn to mutter.

“So things are good, then?” Sawyer asked as Jace took a bite of his sandwich, suddenly starving.

“It’s just…time.”

Sawyer pulled his brows together as Jace struggled to explain further. “It’s like, trying to make this happen…every time we get together we have to learn about each other all over again.”

“Hell, I see Rex daily and I still can’t pull my shit together,” Sawyer pointed out. “Maybe you say it’s time because you’re not ready to admit that you want more.”

Jace nodded, not wanting to delve into the truth of his friend’s words just yet, so he changed the subject. “You and Rex… Gonna step that up anytime soon?”

“Fuck you.”

Jace grinned. “Clint knows Rex. I guess Rex made some calls after I thought Clint was killed.”

“Yeah. I’m friends with this guy, Tanner—he’s Delta. The guy he’s with is friends with Rex and Clint, too. I guess they all met when they were Doms.”

Jace almost choked on his next bite of sandwich, more acutely aware of his tanned hide than ever. Sawyer looked heartily amused that his friend hadn’t known that Clint had been a Dom.

“I’m going to strangle you,” Jace managed.

“Don’t act like he hasn’t tried stuff on you,” Sawyer said, then leaned in. “Has he?”

“No comment.” Fuck, why hadn’t Clint told him? Sure, Jace liked the commands and being tied down, but hell, the Dom thing took it to another level.

Why hadn’t he mentioned it?

“If you’re into that sort of thing, more power to you,” Sawyer said. “It gave me some food for thought.”

“You asked about him?”

“Figured you might want some more info.” Sawyer smiled, and Jace shook his head. He caught a glimpse of Rex in the corner, talking to another captain, and, as usual, Rex’s eyes strayed toward Sawyer. It was like the guy had a beacon that went directly to the younger SEAL, and Jace wondered when the two of them would finally do something about the attraction.

But Sawyer was still hard-pressed to be convinced that he should move on his feelings, and Jace’s mind was swimming with the fact that Clint had been a Dom.

“Come on, we’ve got a full afternoon of training to go,” he told Sawyer, and the men finished their lunches and headed out for another afternoon of pain.

Chapter Sixteen

Jace slammed in and threw his bag halfway across the room. He hadn’t wanted what Sawyer had so innocently told him to get to him so badly, but fuck, it just emphasized how little he and Clint really did know about each other.

A Dom…hell, that was a big part of someone’s life. Why hadn’t Clint mentioned it? Or was what he did to Jace considered Domming? Was Clint looking at him as a sub or a lover? Or something more, which was really what Jace wanted.

“This relationship shit sucks balls,” he muttered. He hesitated with the phone in his hand as to whether or not he should call when he was this pissed off and decided he couldn’t sit around brooding about it all goddamned night. He had training at o-dark-hundred.

Clint answered on the fourth ring. It sounded like he was in a bar—or a club or who the hell knew when he said, “Hey, what’s up?”

Ah, fuck it. “I don’t want to bother you if you’re out.”

“It’s not a bother.”

“Just call me back when you can talk, all right?”

“What’s the problem, Jace?” Clint asked, and suddenly there was no other background noise, so the man had obviously gone outside or someplace else, and that made Jace feel marginally better.

Jace took a deep breath and dove in. “When were you going to tell me you were a Dom?”

Clint paused for a long moment and then asked, “Who’s talking to you about my sexual preferences?”

“Someone who knows you a hell of a lot better than me, obviously,” Jace muttered. “So I’m guessing it’s true.”

“Okay, yes, I’m technically a Dom but—”

“But what? You’re Domming me without me knowing it?”

“I didn’t really think about it like that, but hell, you seem to be enjoying it,” Clint said.

“This isn’t funny. Is that all I am to you—someone to play with?”

“We’ve had this discussion.”

“We really haven’t, Clint. And I didn’t feel like having it now.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Because I’m fucking pissed off. Look, I’ve gotta go.”

“Always need to get your way.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“Grow the hell up, Jace.” And Clint hung up before he had a chance to.

Six hours later, Jace was staring at the ceiling when the phone rang. He turned it over in his palm, thought about not picking up, but what would that solve?

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” Clint cleared his throat. “I’m not running around playing Dom with anyone, okay? I haven’t done that lifestyle for a long time, but I do like aspects of it. If I’d thought it was important to tell you, if I thought it would impact us, I would’ve shared, all right?”

“I guess neither of us is used to sharing anything,” Jace said.

“We don’t have to—”

“Do Dom stuff?” Jace asked, a smile on his lips before he could stop it. “I didn’t say I minded. I just don’t like being caught off guard.”

“Understood.”

“How into it were you?”

“Every chance I got.”

“So you did…everything?”

“Want me to spell it out?”

“I think I do.” Jace got comfortable even as his cock hardened.

“What are you picturing?”

Jace laughed a little. “You. Leather. Bare chest. A whip.”

“You’re not far off.”

“Jesus.”

“If I’d met you in the club…a real, live virgin in every sense of the BDSM world…holy hell, Jace, you would’ve been in trouble.”

“Good trouble?”

“Based on your definition, I believe so.” Clint paused. “Jace, the Dom thing…I never meant to…I mean, I’m not looking for a full-time D/s thing. I just really like rough fucking. Ropes, cuffs…”

“Spankings.”

“Yeah, lots of that.”

“Me too,” Jace admitted. “It helps, somehow.”

“It helps me, too. I never thought to tell you because it’s just a part of who I am. I don’t go to the clubs anymore. I stopped that a while ago. I always thought I had your consent to do what we’ve been doing, but if that’s not the way you feel, tell me. Because I thought the sex was pretty damned hot. Keeps me coming back.”

Jace wasn’t sure why those last words made him tense up, but they did. To have come this far—or what he’d assumed was this far—and hear that was worse than a physical blow.

Instead of telling Clint that, he said, “You have my consent.”
To fuck me. To break my goddamned heart. To do anything you want to me.

Clint had from the beginning.

Chapter Seventeen

Jace’s calf was bleeding, and he was pretty sure there was blood mixed in with the sweat in his boots. All his body wanted to do was collapse onto the double bed, because it was cool and clean in the hotel room, and soon enough he’d be back out in the fray when the intel got clearance or some such shit.

Because of the threats made to the FOB, the military PTB had decided that hiding the SEALs was safest. They’d had far too many losses in recent months, and they’d gotten smarter.

He pulled his shirt off as he noticed the tub, separate from the stall shower. Very American and very welcome so he could get clean and soak away some aches—two birds, one stone. All in all, he’d been OUTCONUS for three months, with no end in sight.

Well, there was
supposed
to be a light at the end of that tunnel tonight, because Clint was set to meet him here. He hadn’t told the man where he was, but Clint had his sources, and they were supposed to catch up in the hotel at some point this week.

But Jace knew that he needed to cancel Clint’s visit, because the man didn’t need to deal with his shit. Jace still didn’t know what end of the Dom situation was up, and he knew Clint came to him for relaxation, not stress. Jace still hadn’t gotten past the Dom stuff, even though he’d been reluctant to bring it up again.

I thought the sex was pretty damned hot. Keeps me coming back.

Jace pushed down that sentence he’d been replaying over and over in his mind since their last call and sent his text canceling their meeting. Hell, he didn’t even know if Clint was close or still in the States, so maybe it didn’t matter.

But after he sent the text, his stomach dropped. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to seeing Clint, to hoping he could get past hearing those words over and over in his mind. Sure, he liked the sex—loved it—but somewhere along the way, he’d known he needed more. And now, after months of thinking Clint might need more as well, he was now convinced that Clint didn’t.

He slept away most of the day and the night, and when he got up, he didn’t even know or care what time it was. He still felt like shit physically, and so he finally took the painkillers Doc gave him. And then he set about filling the tub as he stripped, and then he washed the dirt off in the shower before getting out and sinking into the clean, warm water in the tub, letting it work some of the kinks out.

He wasn’t going to feel human for a long while. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and felt the room spin.

“Fuck.” Not good. But he’d refused to stay in the hospital, and the doc had said the concussion was mild.

Didn’t feel that way. And maybe the tub hadn’t been the best of ideas.

He hadn’t expected the painkillers to kick in that quickly. Drugs had always affected him too easily, which was why he rarely took anything stronger than OTC stuff. But Doc had insisted because of his ribs and other various and sundry injuries, including the pounding head.

He grabbed the towel bar that he wasn’t really sure would hold him up as a wave of dizziness hit. Cursed, made a foggy mental note to never take painkillers again right before he saw Clint in the bathroom, grabbing for him.

If Clint hadn’t been there to catch him, Jace would’ve gone down hard. As it was, Clint had a tough time with the slippery, naked body, but he managed. Held Jace under his arms as the boy insisted he was fine.

Jace looked up at him, his eyes dulled from painkillers, his voice slurred. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“If you seriously think a locked hotel door’s going to stop me, you’re more drugged than I thought.” He moved forward, because Jace looked really unsteady. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

Clint ignored the mumblings, because he would’ve been doing the same thing.

“I’ve got it. Don’t need help,” Jace insisted as he tried to get his legs untangled from the tub. Finally, Clint lifted him out completely and placed him securely out of the bathroom and onto the rug in the main room.

“Yeah, you really looked like you had it,” Clint told him. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“Can’t rely on you like this.”

Clint knew what Jace meant, but it was still a punch in the gut. “You would’ve caught yourself if I wasn’t here,” he lied to the boy, which mollified him enough to stop resisting Clint’s hands on him.