Wash Out

by L. A. Witt

  I nodded, pretending my stomach wasn’t doing somersaults. “Yeah.” I paused, then stepped inside and closed the office door behind me. “What do you want me to say? You know I’m into you. I was from the second I saw you. Why lie?”

  Logan stared at me for a few long seconds, his eyes still wide and his lips apart. I was about to speak—no idea what I was going to say besides something to fill the silence—when the squeak of his chair shut me up. He stood. Stepped out of his cube. Faced me. All those nerves and butterflies were in overdrive now as we stared each other down.

  Nervous as I was, he was like a magnet. I couldn’t stay all the way over here while he was all the way over there.

  I pushed myself off the door and moved toward him, taking each step slowly and carefully, watching him for the slightest hint that I should back off. We were barely an arm’s-length apart when we both stopped. For as much as we couldn’t even look at each other yesterday, neither of us could look away now.

  “You’re right,” he whispered. “I am into you.”

  Instantly, my heart went crazy. “Yeah?”

  Logan nodded, taking a slow step closer to me. His sneaker brushed my walking cast. The vibration reverberated up the plastic, but it didn’t hurt—it made my whole body hum with we’re touching.

  We need to be touching more.

  “I . . .” Logan gulped, avoiding my eyes. He rocked back on his heels, putting some space between us, but he didn’t actually step away. “I just don’t know if we should, you know?”

  “I don’t know either.” I held my breath as I curved a hand over his hip. “All I know is that this is the first thing that’s felt good in a long time, and I want more.”

  Logan stared at me, but he stayed where he was.

  “When you kissed me, it was . . .” I swept my tongue across my lips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

  “Neither have I. I’m just worried we’re fucking up, you know?”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I tugged him toward me. “But nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”

  He tensed a little, but I couldn’t tell if it was from what I’d said or because I was subtly reeling him to me. I almost backed off. Before I could, though, his arm snaked around my waist, and it wasn’t my fucked-up leg that screwed with my balance.

  “If you don’t want to, say so,” I said. “This is just . . . maybe I just need it because it’s the first time anyone has touched me since before I left for BUD/S.”

  Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  My throat tightened. Saying the words out loud drove it home. It really had been that long, hadn’t it? Over six months? I looked down at my hand on his waist, my palm tingling from another man’s body heat radiating into my skin for the first time in too long.

  Logan tipped my chin up with two fingers. “You don’t just want this because I’m the first guy who came along, though, do you?” It was more of a statement than an actual question.

  “No.” I could barely get the word out. “I want you. The fact that I haven’t done this in months is making it really hard to think clearly.” My shoulders sank as my own words echoed through my head. “So if you think this is a bad idea, say so, because I can’t think past how much I want you.”

  He searched my eyes, and I braced for him to come to his senses and pull back.

  “This scares me to death,” he whispered. “But damn if . . . I can’t . . .” He huffed with what sounded like frustration, and shook his head.

  Then his hand warmed my cheek.

  And his breath warmed my lips.

  And we were kissing again.

  As if we’d picked up where we’d left off the last time, we were wrapped up in each other and tasting each other. Oh yeah, this felt good, and oh yeah, I wanted more. Standing here in the office with all these clothes on was absolutely not enough, and . . . too much at the same time. How the hell could he steal all the air in the room just by kissing me? How the hell was he holding me up and fucking with my balance at the same time? God, I loved the way his body felt against mine—solid, hot, strong. And then he—

  “I’ve been wanting you since my first day here,” he growled between kisses. “Can’t . . . tell you how much I’ve thought about—”

  I claimed his mouth so hard I almost pinched my lip between our teeth, and then broke that kiss long enough to moan, “I’m all yours.”

  He shivered, digging his fingers into my back, and then nipped my lower lip. “Yeah? All mine?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Love the sound of that.” He nudged me back a couple of steps—moving slowly like he knew I was off-balance in the boot—until my shoulder blades hit the wall. He kissed me again, pressing me there with his body, and about the time I started finding my equilibrium again, he went to his knees. I sucked in a sharp breath and stared down at him. With shaky hands, he started tugging my zipper. He was . . . We were . . . Here? In the office? What if we—

  His fingers closed around my dick, and I forgot about everything else. There was nothing in the world left to focus on except his hot, eager mouth, and the way he teased every inch of me with his tongue. I’d had enthusiastic blowjobs before, but this? My God. It was like he needed to blow me as desperately as I needed to be blown.

  I rocked my hips, pushing deeper into his throat. The motion was a little awkward when most of my weight had to stay on my right leg, but I braced an arm on Sarah’s cubicle wall and kept the other hand on the back of his head. He didn’t seem to mind.

  And the view . . . Fuck. Just the sight of my fingers tangled in his dark hair was enough to make my head spin. His full lips around my cock? The little upward glances every now and then? Oh man, I needed to get him naked.

  “God damn, I want to fuck you,” I breathed. For a split second, I was worried he might balk—was he even into bottoming?—but the way he whimpered around my dick was anything but No thanks, I’m a top. I combed my fingers through his hair as he licked and sucked me. “You want that? You want me to fuck you?”

  That moan was a definite yes.

  And the next moan was mine because, holy shit, this man could suck cock.

  “Jesus, Logan.” I arched off the wall and fought to breathe. “Oh, I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna come.”

  As if he needed it, that spurred him on. He licked and sucked and stroked for all he was worth, and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out as I shot across his tongue. The cubicle wall protested, but it held me up, and Logan didn’t stop until I was about to melt into a puddle right there on the floor.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  He laughed as he stood. “You all right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good.” He pinned me to the wall and kissed me like he didn’t even care that I hadn’t caught my breath yet. I didn’t either. Not when I had his gorgeous body against mine, and definitely not when his mouth tasted like my own cum.

  I slid my hand over the front of his jeans, grinning when he hissed. “Surprised the Navy doesn’t make you disclose when you’re packing something like this.”

  A laugh burst out of him. “It’s not usually, uh, loaded while I’m at work.”

  I chuckled and brushed my lips across his. “Well, if I could kneel comfortably, I would definitely do something about it. Besides . . .” I started unzipping his fly, but he caught my wrist.

  “Not here. Let’s go someplace where we can make some noise.”

  All the air rushed out of my lungs. I nodded stupidly.

  “Your place or mine?” he asked. “I’m on the north side of town.”

  “I’m right outside the base. Let’s go to mine.”

  “Perfect. Let me log off,” he said with a tilt of his head toward his desk, “and I’ll follow you.”

  I nodded again. One more kiss, and I let him go. While he quickly logged off, I glanced around the office, cringing a little at the thought of Sarah or Diego finding out about this, but that was the most effort
I could put into caring about consequences. Those could wait until Monday.

  Today, I was taking Logan home and fucking him.

  As we drove from our building to gate two, I probably should have had second thoughts about what we’d done and what we were doing. I didn’t, though. If anything, I felt a little guilty about blowing off work for the rest of the day, but I told myself I’d be all right. I was making good progress, and as long as I kept up my current pace, I’d finish in time for the inspection. Maybe not with a lot of wiggle room, but I’d make it.

  And hell, I’d been busting my ass on it since my second week in training, living and breathing those records. One afternoon in Casey’s bed wasn’t going to sabotage me. Besides, if I’d declined the offer or put it off until tonight, it wasn’t like I’d be concentrating right now.

  Or something. Whatever. I didn’t care if I was rationalizing. All I cared about was getting into Casey’s apartment and out of my clothes.

  Shortly after we drove through the gate and off-base, Casey put on his blinker. My heart sped up as we both slowed down, and I followed him into the parking lot. He rolled down his window and gestured at the guest spots, so I took one while he slipped into a reserved spot.

  We got out, exchanged glances, and headed for the building. Casey’s gait was uneven because of the boot, but he was walking faster than he usually did. The tightness in his jaw suggested his pace was not comfortable.

  I touched his arm. “Hey. Take it easy. We’ll get there.”

  “I know.” He flashed me a grin as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Sooner the better.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t do us any good if you’re in pain.”

  “I’m not.” He gave me a little squeeze. “Relax.”

  Well, he knew what he could handle, so I let it go. And he did slow down a bit.

  I was surprised we had to take the stairs. “You’ve been walking up these stairs this whole time?”

  “Unfortunately.” His keys jingled in his hand, and he grunted as he carefully took each step. “It’s a hell of a lot easier without the crutches, though, so I’m not going to complain.”

  “Jesus.”

  He made it, though, and not a moment too soon, he was unlocking his apartment door.

  As soon as we were inside, he grabbed my belt and hauled me closer, and just like that, we were kissing and the stairs were forgotten. Whatever restraint we’d had in the empty office was gone now. There was no one around to catch us and remind us of any reasons why we shouldn’t do what we were absolutely about to do.

  My arm snaked around his waist. His hand slid into my back pocket. I nudged him up against the door, and he sighed into my kiss as we let the door hold us upright. His knee pressed between mine, and as he gently worked my legs apart, his hip and thigh rubbed against me just right to make my pulse surge.

  When he shifted his weight, his boot grazed my leg, reminding me it was there.

  I broke the kiss, paused long enough for a couple of breaths, and whispered, “Let’s get in the bedroom. So you can get off that foot.”

  He laughed against my lips. “That the only reason?”

  “Not at all. But it’s a bonus, right?”

  “As if I need a bonus when I’m getting you into bed,” he growled softly, and kissed me. The kiss didn’t last this time, though—he broke away and led me down the short hallway.

  And just like when we’d walked into his apartment, crossing into his bedroom ratcheted things up even higher. Kisses were deeper and more frantic. Hands were more insistent. We still weren’t off our feet, but to hell with it—if he was okay with standing, I wasn’t going to do anything to break this mind-blowing kiss.

  In between making out and feeling each other up, we did make a valiant effort to undo some clothes. A buckle jingled. I managed to toe off my sneakers and kick them out of the way so we didn’t trip on them.

  Casey tugged at my shirt, and grumbled with frustration. “Get this off.” He untucked it with a rough yank. “Why the fuck did you wear a shirt with buttons?”

  “Didn’t know I was getting laid today.” I fumbled with the buttons. Why had I worn something with all these damn things on it? The first three gave, though, and that was enough to pull the offending shirt over my head.

  In the time it took me to get that far, Casey had stripped off his own shirt and slipped his shorts off over the boot. He sat on the edge of the bed and started taking off the walking cast.

  I shook myself. “Wait. Are you sure you should take that off?”

  Casey snorted. “I’m not wearing it while I’m screwing.”

  I sat beside him. “But are—”

  He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me hard. He was a hell of a lot stronger than I was, and before I knew which way was up, he had me flat on the bed. God knew how I didn’t come just from being manhandled like that.

  He rolled us onto our sides and drew back enough to look me up and down. I let my own gaze rake over him. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but now that his clothes were out of the way . . . Oh God. He was smoking hot. I’d never actually seen a six-pack in real life, but there it was. I slid a hand down over it. “And I thought you looked good in uniform.”

  Casey laughed softly as he came in for a kiss. “Says the man who was hiding all this”—he gave my ass a playful squeeze—“under civvies.”

  “Not my fault. Office policy.”

  “Those bastards.”

  “Probably for the best, though.” I hauled him closer, the heat of his skin against mine turning me on like crazy. “Otherwise I’d never get anything done.”

  “Mmm, good point.” He squeezed my ass harder, pulling me against his very hard cock. “Besides, if everyone else saw any of this, then they’d all want a bite.”

  “A bite? You suggesting you’re going to—”

  He snapped his teeth, narrowly missing my lip, and grinned. “You suggesting you don’t want me to?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Then he kissed me again, and I couldn’t have said anything if I’d wanted to. My brain was scrambled. My mouth was busy. And, oh Jesus, he had his hands all over me.

  Oh . . . God. It really had been too long since I’d been laid, because the heat of his skin, and the gentle abrasiveness of his calloused hands, and his hot, needy mouth . . . Fuck, I couldn’t remember ever being this turned on. Was I really in bed with a man this sexy?

  I broke the kiss because I couldn’t resist looking at him, and I caught myself staring at him and watching my fingers trail down his ripped torso. The muscles of his abs contracted, making the six-pack stand out even more, and I had to run my fingers over them.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed my wrist.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Ticklish.”

  “Oh yeah?” I freed my hand and trailed a fingertip along the groove between two muscles. They tightened, and he grabbed me again.

  “Asshole,” he muttered, and kissed me.

  I just chuckled.

  Casey grinned up at me, cupping my face. “I can’t believe I’ve got you in my bed.” He licked at my lower lip. “Jerked off to you enough times.”

  “Have you?”

  “Uh-huh. And now that I’ve got you here, I really, really want to fuck you.”

  “Yes, please.” I ran my palm up his side. “Position? Since your leg . . .”

  He glanced down at the offending limb, lips pursed. “Maybe if you ride me.” He turned onto his back, but frowned. Then he winced. “Damn it.”

  “What?”

  “Can’t get comfortable. Not in any position where I can top you.”

  “Then let’s hold off on that part.” I slid my hand up his smooth abs. “You’re supposed to enjoy this too.”

  He blew out a breath. “I guess that can wait. I was just really looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. But there’s plenty of ways we can get each other off. I mean, if I have to go down on
you again . . .” I sighed dramatically.

  “I’m not going to say no to that, believe me.”

  “I would hope not.” I kissed him, and we tangled up again. Making out, rubbing together, huffing hot breaths across each other’s cheeks—was this what sober sex felt like? Goddamn, I’d been missing out. I didn’t remember it ever being like this when I was younger, though, so maybe it had less to do with my BAC than it did with the ripped, needy, rock-hard man dragging his fingers through my hair.

  Casey slid a hand between us, and I broke the kiss with a groan as he closed his fingers around my dick.

  “Oh God . . .” I let my head fall next to his.

  “Like that?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good. Let me . . . let me put some lube on, though.” He paused like he needed to catch his breath before he kept going. “There’s . . . Nightstand. The bottle.”

  I found a bottle of lotion next to the lamp. It wasn’t lube, but whatever—wasn’t like we were using a condom right now. I leaned over, grabbed it, and handed it back to him. I held myself up over him while he slicked his hand and both our cocks. Then he was stroking us again, and all I could do was stare. Stare down at him. His gorgeous body. Our dicks rubbing together. His mesmerizing eyes.

  I could’ve done that all night, but then he licked his lips and whispered breathlessly, “C’mon, baby—kiss me.”

  Like hell was I holding out on him—I lowered myself and found his mouth again. The little sounds he made were so, so sexy, especially that low, blissed-out hum and the occasional soft moan. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone at all, but I couldn’t remember anyone ever being this vocally into it when we were just making out.

  More. God, more.

  I thrust into his fist and kissed him harder.

  “Gimme a few more weeks,” he said between kisses, “and I will show you what a good hard fuck feels like.”

  “I’m so holding you to that.”

  “But in the meantime . . .” He grabbed the lotion again and stroked more onto both of our dicks before he started pumping again.

  My eyes rolled back. I shivered hard, trying to find some rhythm as I fucked into his hand and against his cock, but I was lucky I could still breathe. His slick strokes, his hot breaths, his hungry kiss whenever we remembered to kiss at all—oh yeah, he was every fantasy come to life.