Sailing Deep (11 page)

              He refused, however, to admit that he was actually starting to enjoy the kisses. No, he wouldn’t admit that. He was merely used to them. He accepted them. He didn’t crave them or want them.

              “It’s not my fault you’re weak,” Dylan said when Blake pulled away from their kiss. He smirked down at the other man.

              “Oh, get a room, you two.” Reggie groaned without looking up from his screen. “You’re gonna make me lose my lunch.”

              “We do have a room,” Blake said matter of factly, smirking. One of his hands lingered behind Dylan’s head, idly rubbing the back of his neck.

              “Then go to it.” Reggie leaned back in his chair, letting it slide a few inches as he turned to look at the large clock on the back wall of the room.

              “Are you sure?” Blake asked though he was already packing his laptop away into his messenger bag.

              Reggie waved a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah, there’s only a few minutes left of our shift anyways. I can handle it.”

              “You’re the best, Reggie,” Blake said, grinning as he stood. Dylan stepped back from the chair and headed for the door.

              “Thanks, Reggie.” He said, giving the man a small smile and a wave.

              “Yeah, yeah. You two owe me.” He said, teasing. He had a point; he’d covered for Blake and let him leave early nearly every day for the past two weeks.

              “Later, Reg,” Blake called as he closed the door behind them. As they moved down the hallway toward the stairs, Blake casually draped one arm around his waist and pulled him close. Dylan responded in kind. It was just another thing that had become automatic. It was strangely … comfortable, although he didn’t want to think too much about that. “See anything interesting today?”

              It was the familiar question that Blake asked every day. It was a casual enough question, but it had implications that were anything but casual. Dylan shook his head. “Nothing today. We just ran the southern patrol route. We found some tracks on the nearest beach, the one where locals never go. They lead from the water, up the beach to the forest, but Marcus doesn’t think it’s anything to get alarmed about. Probably just some locals getting brave or some shifters out having fun.” He glanced sidelong at Blake, indicating with his eyes and a subtle pressure of his fingers on the man’s hip that he didn’t think it was just locals or members of the Shadow Pack.

              The scents had been too faint to recognize and were overrun by the salt of the sea, and while the tracks were mostly obscured by wind and rain, there was something Dylan found unsettling about the marks. He had found a partially erased bear print that he had subtly and quickly wiped away. Dylan feared his SEAL team might be getting a little too brave. He needed to send them the patrol routes to keep anything like this from happening again. Marcus was quick to dismiss it this time, but they might not always be so lucky.

              Blake nodded slowly, then he looked away, shrugging in casual dismissal. “Well hopefully whoever it was had a good time. Imagine how startled the locals would be if they suddenly came across a pack of five wolves playing in the waves.”

              Dylan huffed sharply. “We didn’t play in the waves.”

              “You said you ran through them.”

              “That’s not playing.”

              “Close enough.” They came to a stop outside their room and Blake turned to face him, putting both hands on his hips. “You, my dear, need a shower.” He said, grinning as he leaned forward to touch their noses. He pulled him forward by the hips until they were pressed together. “I could join you? Wash your back and all those hard to reach places.” He tilted his head, so their lips were close but not quite touching. His hands snaked around his hips to rest lightly, but firmly, on his ass.

              Dylan ignored the way his body responded. He ignored the way his heart started to race and the warmth that ran down his gut to settle between his legs. Dylan struggled to keep his breathing even, and he feared that Blake had noticed the way his breath had hitched. His hands were on Blake’s chest, and he forced them to relax. Dylan wanted to show that he was in control. He was always in control of his body. His training had seen to that. The fact that Blake was quickly getting past his defenses worried him. He was scared. Dylan didn’t want to give up his carefully crafted control.

              If he did … he wasn’t sure what would happen. His body and his mind and his heart were at war, and he didn’t want to let Blake know until he figured it out himself.

              “I think,” Dylan said, pausing to lick his suddenly dry lips. He was startled when the movement caused his tongue to touch Blake’s lips. He hadn’t realized they were that close. He could tell from the way Blake stiffened that it had startled him, too. Dylan tried to focus on his eyes, but he was so close that they blurred. Still, he noticed the man’s blue eyes were half lidded and staring intently down at his lips. “I’m capable of washing myself.” He was cautious not to refuse Blake outright. They were still in the hallway, and someone could be listening.

              Blake chuckled, his chest shaking against Dylan’s. “It’s not about what you’re capable of by yourself. It’s about what we could do together.” He closed the distance between their lips to capture Dylan’s. His kiss was slow and gentle as if he were just drawing out the feeling of their lips touching for as long as possible. “I’d be thorough.”

              “I have no doubt.” Dylan hated how breathless he sounded. He hated that, for just a moment, he had let himself think about Blake’s offer. And he hated how, for just a second, he considered accepting it.

              Ignoring the way his body protested, Dylan stepped back and disentangled himself from Blake’s embrace. He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked their door. Blake had given him the spare key to use, and Dylan pushed the door open and entered the room without another word on the subject. He hoped by ignoring the issue; Blake would let it drop, as usual, and both their bodies would cool down.

              For as much as Blake teased him, irritated him, and pushed the limits of Dylan’s tolerance, he always knew when to stop. He somehow could read Dylan’s body language to know where the line was and when to back down before Dylan got to his snapping point. He would go so far as to say it seemed like Blake knew that line better than he did. It was an uncanny ability that Dylan appreciated.

              “So did you see anything interesting?” Dylan asked his half of the usual questions as he kicked off his shoes and walked into the room. Blake followed him into the room and paused to take off his shoes. Dylan went to the computer and typed in Blake’s password before clicking the program that ran the bug check. Blake had initially tried to teach Dylan what to type to execute the program, but it was too much to remember. He wasn’t exactly technologically gifted. So Blake had written the program into a single clickable icon on his desktop. He wanted to make sure that Dylan could run the program even when he wasn’t there.

              “Well, we saw Brenda and Suzanne sneaking away during their shift to make out in the pantry. We saw Nathan and Daniel smoking weed on the library balcony. We saw Darrel gazing lovingly at Simon from across the room, despite Simon only having eyes for Taylor.” He walked into the room and dumped his laptop bag on the floor next to the desk. He sat down heavily in his desk chair and spun to face Dylan. “But as for anything of interest, no. I didn’t see anything.”

              There was the familiar ding of the program, and they both glanced at the computer.

              “Have you heard anything back from my team?”

              Blake sighed. “No. You know this isn’t the time they send messages.”

              Dylan groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whoever came up with this schedule?”

              Blake rested one foot on his knee, his elbows on the arms of his chair, as he laced his fingers together. “As a matter of fact, I did.” He said, grinning. “I prefer to get my super-secret encrypted messages at night when I’m in the comfort of my room.”

              Dylan sighed, letting his arms drop. “Just let me know when you get something. I need to send them the patrol routes, so they don’t accidentally cross them.”

              Blake gave him a mock salute. “Roger that. Sir, yes, sir.”

              “You’re not funny,” Dylan said dryly as he headed for the bathroom.

              “You hurt me, seadog!” He heard Blake call as he closed the door.

              The bathroom wasn’t huge, but it was spacious enough. Dylan peeled off his shirt and took a moment to look at himself in the mirror with a critical eye. He was keeping up with training, so he didn’t fear falling out of shape. Besides, much wouldn’t happen in just two weeks. He watched what he ate with as much care as he normally did. It wasn’t too difficult; the Shadow Pack fed their people well, and there were plenty of healthy options. He idly flexed his arms and his chest, admiring his muscles with an offhanded and detached air. He liked the way he was now though he hadn’t always looked this way. When he was younger, before joining the Navy, he had been rather scrawny.

              Dylan let his shirt drop to the floor and ran a hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. It was already longer than regulation. He had been due for one when they had arrived, but he hadn’t had the chance before being separated from his team and being pulled into the Shadow Pack. Werewolves’ hair grew fast. It was a luxury for some, but a hassle for others. For Dylan, it was nothing but a pain. He rubbed his chin. He needed to shave, too. Blake had said he looked good with a little stubble, but he felt uncomfortable with it. Years of shaving due to military regulations would do that. He had told Blake if he liked beards so much, why did he shave? Blake had only laughed and responded that beards didn’t look right with his white blond hair.

              Dylan turned on the sink and let the water warm up while he got his razor ready. He shaved quickly and methodically, simply going through the motions. When he was done, he peeled off his jeans and boxers before starting the shower. The shared bathroom had a spacious shower stall, which Dylan appreciated greatly. Small showers weren’t exactly comfortable.

              He got under the warm spray and stood there for several moments with his eyes closed. As much as he didn’t want to, his mind kept wandering back to Blake’s offer. He knew what such an offer meant, and he had a feeling Blake didn’t realize just how much accepting that offer would mean. It meant more than just washing his back; it would mean accepting some of Blake’s advances, and it would mean giving him the go-ahead for taking their relationship to the next level. A physical level.

              Because the simple fact of the matter was, despite the fact that their relationship was faked for the benefit of the Shadow Pack, their physical attraction was very, very real. More real than Dylan wanted to admit.

              His inner wolf had already accepted Blake as his mate, in spirit if not yet in body. And he had a feeling that was to blame for a lot of his current dilemmas. He felt whenever Blake was near. His senses tracked him, even if his consciousness didn’t. Every touch was like fire. Every kiss was like lightning. He had been able to hold his physical yearnings in check by pure force of will. He was scared of what would happen if he let his inhibitions go and let himself have what his body craved.

              Accepting Blake’s offer could mean more than just the start of a physical relationship. It could mean the start of a slippery slope where Dylan lost more and more of his self-control. His body wanted Blake, and he feared that his heart might grow to want him too. Dylan wasn’t sure he was ready to let his heart do that.

              Dylan stayed under the spray, letting the water caress his skin, for several minutes before he realized that there was no shampoo. He frowned, looking around at all the bottles in the corner of the shower floor. There were their neighbor’s shampoo and conditioner, who they shared the bathroom with, but Blake’s shampoo was out. Then he remembered that Blake had said they were out and that he was going to get more.

              With a groan, he remembered seeing the shampoo on the coffee table and cursed himself for not grabbing it. He could use their neighbor’s, but Dylan felt that was disrespectful to do so without asking, especially when he had shampoo in their room.

              “Blake?” Dylan called, peeking around the shower curtain so hopefully his voice would carry better. He waited a moment, and tried again, a little louder. “Blake?”

              “Yeah?” He heard the response, muffled through the door and the sound of the shower.

              “Can you get me the shampoo from the table?”

              “Sure thing.” He heard, hoping that wasn’t laughter he heard in the man’s voice.

              Dylan ducked back into the shower, letting the warm water run down his back as he waited. He hoped and prayed that Blake wouldn’t have some comment about the fact that he had forgotten though he knew he wouldn’t have such luck. Blake always had a smart ass comment for everything.

              “You can just leave it by the door.” He said when he heard the door open. After a brief silence, the shower curtain was suddenly thrown back. “What the fuck?” Dylan shouted, jumping back, slipping, and having to catch himself on the wall. He leaned against the cold tile, eyes wide and gasping for breath as he stared at Blake.