4-Bound By Danger (16 page)

But all of this was fantasy, and Sawyer was thinking of something far deeper—because he knew he loved the goddamned man. Knew it the way he knew he’d be a good SEAL, the way he knew just the right shot to take.

He knew it because it was as easy as breathing. He wanted to sit and listen to the man tell his stories forever—at times, when Rex let his guard down in the group and talked, Sawyer pretended Rex was just talking to him, that it was only the two of them at the table, drinking beers and then going home together.

Man, he was so turned around.

It could happen, Sawyer.

But there was still Rex’s past to consider, and living in someone else’s shadow, well, that was something he couldn’t handle. And phone calls weren’t real life.

And still, he hung on to the phone like it was his lifeline.

Finally, just before he drifted to sleep, his phone rang.

“You doing okay?” Rex asked. His voice was hoarse, and he didn’t sound like his usual self when he made these calls.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“I woke you.”

“Almost, but it’s okay.” He paused. “You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m not,” Rex admitted, and there was a long silence until he said, “Talking to you helps.”

Sawyer smiled into the phone. “Nice to hear. I was beginning to feel selfish, because you always help me.”

“It always helps me, too, boy. I don’t mind taking care of you. I like it. Like that you can let your guard down in front of me.”

Sawyer took a deep breath and asked the question he needed to before the sex talk started. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes,” Rex admitted gruffly, and Sawyer decided not to push that right now. The fact that he wasn’t hiding it was a good thing.

“Do you think it’s weird that we’re doing this over the phone instead of face to face?”

“No.”

“If I was there, with you, what would you do?” He held his breath, because typically it was Rex leading the call, asking for Sawyer’s fantasy.

But Rex didn’t seem to care about that.

“I wouldn’t have stopped that night in the alley,” his CO told him, and Sawyer caught his cock in his hand before Rex got the next words out. Closed his eyes and let the words bring him into the fantasy. “If you’d told me that you wanted me, I would’ve kissed you until you couldn’t see straight. I can still feel your cock pressed against me—you were so hard, so worried I’d feel it. So worried you didn’t notice I was harder.”

Sawyer let his finger play along the tip of his cock, pretending it was Rex’s tongue as the man continued, “I would’ve gotten on my knees, wouldn’t care that anyone could walk out and see us. Would’ve swallowed your cock and watched you, half panic, half pleasure, not sure which one would win out.”

“Pleasure,” Sawyer managed, because he was in that alley now, his cock in Rex’s mouth, the threat of being caught imminent, and he just didn’t care.

“But that’s not what I fantasize about most,” Rex admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about the first time you walked into my office. Yelling. The look on your face when you realized it wasn’t your old CO…I want to freeze that moment in time.”

“What would you have done?”

Rex laughed, a wicked sound, and Sawyer’s entire body heated. “I would’ve ordered you to turn around and lock the door. In my fantasy, you do it, but you look nervous, like you know what’s coming. And then I tell you that you need some discipline. A lot of it, and all of it would come from me from that point on. And you have no choice but to agree.”

Sawyer closed his eyes, let Rex’s voice bring him right back to his office.

“The first thing I do is reach across the desk and yank you over it. Your face is in line with my crotch. I make you open my pants with your teeth and you do it, and when my cock comes out, I tell you to suck on it. And you do. You’re looking up at me and you’re sucking. And you’re scared that someone’s going to come in. And I tell you, don’t worry—this is nothing. I’m going to have your pants down and you bent over my desk before the afternoon is over.”

That was all it took—Sawyer shot with a loud groan, helpless to stop himself. When he could talk, he said, “Sorry.”

“I couldn’t have held out much longer myself. Jesus.”

“Remember where you left off on that, please.”

Rex snorted. Typically, this was where Rex signed off, when they were both semi-satisfied and ready for sleep. But this time, even though they lay in separate beds in separate rooms as always, this was the closest Sawyer ever felt to the man, and neither one was ready to end the conversation.

Chapter Nineteen

Clint slept. Jace watched his profile, wondered when was the last time Clint had actually done so.

Jace knew from experience that you could only go so long without. Most special-forces types—and CIA types—rarely let their guards down enough to get comfortable enough to do so in someone else’s presence. The fact that Clint had erased some of Jace’s embarrassment at being taken care of earlier.

He’d let Clint take care of him physically, but allowing him in emotionally was a much harder proposition. For Clint, too, he supposed, since the man never spoke of his past or much about his job, unless they were comparing the various shitholes they’d had the pleasure of fighting for their country in.

Truth be told, getting taken care of physically was probably harder for Jace than the emotional crap. But who was he kidding—all of this was new to him.

He moved restlessly, the painkillers still dimming enough of his injuries that he was feeling good—albeit a little high. He finished more of the food Clint had ordered, hit the head and then checked his messages.

Still no news, which, for him, was good. Meant more time in the hotel with Clint. And two hours of sleep were more than enough for him.

Executive decision made, he pushed the covers aside and slid between the man’s legs. Nuzzled his cock before swallowing half of it and felt Clint wake up with a jerk and a curse, followed quickly by a moan.

“Christ, Jace, why don’t you let me take care of you? You’re the one who’s hurt.”

Jace let him slip from his mouth only long enough to say, “You already did that.”

Clint gave a sleepy grin and brushed hair from Jace’s eyes as he went back to work, licking and laving Clint’s thick cock, his hands spreading the man’s thighs so he could have full access to his balls as well.

“Jesus, Jace.” Clint took them into his mouth, one by one, suckling with enough pressure to make the man jump. He laughed, knowing it would vibrate up with a jolt through Clint. Knowing it—and everything else—would drive him crazy.

Finally, he decided to end Clint’s suffering, sucked him in deep as he stroked. Clint moved his hips in time with Jace’s rhythm—wouldn’t last, and it didn’t matter.

Their sex wasn’t rushed. They didn’t need to make anything quick, as they had at least forty-eight hours and a hotel room and nothing else to do but each other.

With every hour that passed, Jace’s body became less sore. He’d been trained to recover quickly, to ignore pain, to take rest when needed, and his body responded to everything Clint did.

He realized that a lot of his problem was the guilt he harbored over Kenny and the deal with the Feds. Until he got that under control, then he’d always be walking on eggshells.

He felt like a traitor, even though he’d done nothing wrong. He wasn’t hurting Clint’s job as Tomcat, because Clint was out and safe, and the Feds weren’t doing anything with the intel Jace had given them.

And Kenny continued to get in deeper with the MC even as Jace was dug in up to his neck with the Feds. The best he could do was keep the information he gave the Feds as brief as possible and try to convince Kenny to get the hell out of town. And if that didn’t happen…well, he’d eventually have to ask for Clint’s help in getting the Feds to cut him loose without getting either of them in deep shit.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked him now, and Jace tried to explain, “It’s all so fucking fragile.”

“Always is. That’s why we have to make the most of it.”

Rex talked about the current mission for a few minutes. About the hotel security. About anything but what he really wanted to talk to Sawyer about.

The boy didn’t push it, let Rex work up to it, and Rex was grateful. It allowed him to finally open up to Sawyer about his imprisonment.

“I was thinking about the capture tonight. Most of the time, I can push it back, but sometimes it surprises me. Better to talk about it than to let fear take root.” Rex paused and then, “You asked before if I’d ever been in love. His name was Josh. And I couldn’t save him. I wanted to, but I know now there was nothing I could do. He’d have told me the same thing.”

“He was a SEAL?”

“Yes.”

“You were captured with him.”

“I was.” Rex willed himself not to hang up, because dealing with this was the only way to keep moving. “We were together for four years. Worked together. No one knew we were together. It didn’t affect our jobs. If anything, I thought it made me better. And I’ve been pushing you away because…maybe this isn’t fair to you. Maybe I’m not the right guy for you.”

“Never thought any guy was right for me,” Sawyer said. “That’s part of the problem. But when I saw you, after I’d yelled at you…”

“Yeah, I know.” The sight of the young SEAL, so serious and so damned handsome, standing across from him, detailing the problems the team was having with leadership, had made Rex want to drag him into his lap.

It had been the first time anyone caught his interest like that since Josh, and it had surprised him and made him get pissed at Sawyer for no good reason, like it had somehow been his fault.

“You knew I fell for you?”

“Not at first, but after while, well, let’s just say you didn’t hide it well,” Rex said, and Sawyer laughed a little.

“I was pretty stunned. After what happened with Josh, you still want to start something with another military man? I mean—the same risks apply.”

“I know. I’ve tried to go the other way, but safe doesn’t suit me. Never did. And I figure no risk, no reward.” Rex paused. “I’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you—I won’t throw it away because there’s danger involved.”

It all made so much sense now—Rex pushed all of them hard—Sawyer maybe more—but the reasons were embedded in his flesh. Sawyer had seen the scars on the man’s back, and they made Rex even more attractive to him.

“Don’t hang up yet,” Sawyer said. “I wanted to tell you about another fantasy I had.”

Rex got hard, despite the emotion of the call, or maybe because of it. “I’m listening.”

Chapter Twenty

Clint spent four days with Jace in the hotel. On their last night, they had a huge fight about Jace still being involved in the MC, and they hadn’t recovered from it when it was time for Jace to move out into the mission again.

After that, Jace’s mission was four months of pure fucking hell. Whatever could go wrong, did. Rex spent the entire time pissed, and Sawyer tried to fix everything, and there was nothing the SEALs could’ve done differently.

Jace was doing all right, holding it together, and he thought, all in all, they pulled off a damned good op. It was after hearing about the explosions that he’d gone numb.

A helo sent to rescue troops was shot down by rebels outside the mountains of Afghanistan, resulting in the deaths of six SEALs. Jace’s team had been nowhere near it, but they were supposed to have been the ones on the helo that morning. Circumstances beyond their control had trapped them inside their current FOB. That guilt was compounded by the fact that they knew most of those men who died, and so the loss weighed heavily on all of them. He’d worked with those men before—they were from the Coronado teams, and some he’d gone through early BUD/s training with.

He pulled himself together enough to be allowed home, knowing he’d have to go back and see the military shrink before being cleared for duty, because no one bounced back from shit like this, no matter how strong they purported to be. But he didn’t have to deal with that now.

He was finally home, alone, trying to come down from the entire trip. His packs sat in the front hallway, and he’d stripped and climbed into the walk-in shower with a bottle of whiskey, sat on the floor and just let the heat and alcohol mix.

Six men gone. Six families left to mourn. The media was having a field day, although they’d never know all the details about the deaths of his fellow SEALs and other members of the special forces community. But Jace knew, in more detail than he ever cared to.

How was he supposed to handle it?

You just will.

He thought about calling Clint, who’d no doubt heard the news by now, but he didn’t think he knew how to share shit like this, let alone deal with it for himself. Clint would make him deal with it without dealing with them. After four months of not speaking beyond texts, they were strangers again, strangers who knew each other sexually better than a lot of couples.

Jace didn’t want the stranger—he wanted Clint.

He felt so fucking empty inside, and he couldn’t even bring himself to go to the bar where some of the other men were, celebrating their fallen. Jace didn’t know if he was having trouble facing his own mortality or if the stuff with the MC was weighing too heavily on him to handle it the way he might normally have, but the fact that good men died with no way to fight back was too much for him to handle.