by L. A. Witt
I pushed myself up and looked down at him again, watching his hand on our cocks. He was breathing hard now, just as hard as I was, and the muscles of his abs stood out. God, I could not get over how sexy he was.
“Holy fuck, you’re hot,” he ground out in a shaky voice, pumping us both faster. “Jesus, Logan . . .”
“You’re one to talk,” I panted. “Gonna . . . look even hotter covered in cum.”
“Holy shit.” He whimpered, and it turned into a groan, and then I was groaning too. We both shuddered and swore and moaned and came, and when my vision cleared? Yeah. Yeah, he was definitely even hotter with dots and streaks of cum on his six-pack and a few on his pecs.
I flopped onto the bed next to him. We fumbled for some tissues and cleaned off all the lotion and cum, then just lay there while the smoke cleared.
Still breathing hard, I said, “There’s something I gotta know.”
“Yeah?”
I ran the backs of my fingers down his abs. “How the fuck have you maintained a six-pack on light duty?”
Casey half gasped, half laughed, and pressed my hand down more firmly as if the light touch were ticklish. “Lost a lot of body fat during BUD/S, and didn’t eat as much as I should have the first few weeks after I got hurt.”
I frowned. “And here I was thinking you’d have some magic workout plan or something.”
“I wish.” He chuckled. “I mean, I do still go to the gym five days a week.”
“What? When?”
“Either before I come to work or during my lunch break.” He paused. “Just have to slack on leg day.”
I glanced down at his quads. “If that’s how you look after you’ve been slacking . . .”
“Hey, my upper legs aren’t broken. I’ve had to be careful, but . . .” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to lose all the muscle tone, you know?”
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of maintaining it.”
He laughed, sounding almost shy. “Thanks.” The conversation fell into a lull, but not for long. Casey shifted a little, clearing his throat. “So, we should probably figure out how we want to play this at the office.”
I cringed. “On the down-low, maybe?”
“What?” One corner of his mouth rose. “You embarrassed of me already?”
I laughed, running my hand up the middle of his chest. “Yeah. That’s it. I’m utterly mortified at the thought of someone figuring out I’m doing the hottest guy in the building.”
Casey chuckled as some pink bloomed in his cheeks. “You’re already in my pants, baby. You don’t need to flatter.”
“Won’t stop me from trying.” I kissed him lightly. Propping myself up on my elbow, I said, “I do think we should . . . not necessarily keep it a secret, but maybe not advertise it.”
“Fair enough. You’re not worried about your ex, are you?”
“Clint? Oh my God, no.” I shook my head, but paused. “Well, I mean . . . not like he’ll get jealous or anything. But he’s . . .” I chewed my lip.
Casey’s brow pinched. He ran the backs of his fingers along my forearm. “Something I should know?”
I sighed. “It’s not that he cares who I date. He’s just really, really concerned with me getting my life back on the rails. He wants this job to work out for me. So he’s . . . He kind of warned me from the beginning that dating where I worked wasn’t a great idea.”
“Seems like an oddly specific thing to warn somebody about. Especially from a guy who married someone else in the same office.”
“Well, he . . .” I cleared my throat, and I was probably the one blushing this time. “My first day, when he took me to lunch? I kind of mentioned I thought you were hot.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
Casey smirked. “It was the cast, wasn’t it? That thing made my ass look amazing.”
I burst out laughing. “Yes. Absolutely. And the crutches.” I made a purring sound. “Made me hard the instant I saw you.”
He snorted. “I knew it.” We both chuckled, and he rolled his eyes as he muttered, “Dork.”
“Hey, you started it.”
“Yeah, okay. Anyway. So, we’ll keep it kind of quiet, but it’s not some state secret?”
“Nah. But full disclosure, there’s also . . .” I closed my eyes for a second. Then I released a breath and met his gaze. “Have you heard the story about the guy Clint brought to the Navy Ball a couple of years ago? Before he started dating Travis?”
Casey’s eyes lost focus as if he were thinking. Meeting my gaze again, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I haven’t talked to too many people outside our department though. Why? Was that you?”
I nodded.
“So, why would people be talking about it?”
I moistened my lips. “Because I kind of made an ass of myself. And embarrassed the hell out of him.”
Casey cocked his head as he absently slid his hand across my hip. “What happened?”
“Basically, I got hammered. I don’t even remember most of it, honestly. Clint told me later that we stayed through dinner, and then he suggested we cut out early. Soon as we got to my place, he dumped my ass and went back to the ball.” I laughed half-heartedly. “He and Travis have pretty much been together ever since.”
“Whoa. That sounds like kind of a dick move on his part.”
I shook my head. “Not really. Thing is, I had a serious problem with the bottle. And he was trying to sober up himself. I’d get shitfaced, then try to encourage him to do the same.” The memory made me cringe inwardly. “He was struggling so hard, and having me there trying to pour liquor down his throat? I’m lucky he didn’t dump me a hell of a lot sooner. He wasn’t perfect, and I was pissed about things for a while, but it really worked out for both of us in the end. He got Travis, and I got my life on track.”
Casey smiled, sliding a hand up my chest. “And now you’re mine.”
“Yeah. I am. But what happened at the ball . . .”
The smile faded a little. “You’re worried people around the office know about it. And they’ll talk about it.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “I know it’s ridiculous. And I mean, I have no idea who worked there back then and who’s transferred in, and . . . I don’t even know if it matters.” I sighed. “I’m mostly worried about them giving you shit or looking at you cross-eyed.”
Casey waved a hand. “I can deal with people giving me shitty looks. And if anyone wants to ‘warn’ me about you, it’s their funeral.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m serious—I don’t care if people know about us or if they talk. I really don’t. I’m cool with not advertising it or making a big deal out of it. But if people find out?” He shrugged. “It’s fine by me. Especially since we both know you’re not who you were when you and Clint went to the ball.”
I searched his eyes and found nothing but sincerity. With a smile, I said, “Okay. I can live with that. Even if Clint will give me never-ending hell if he finds out.”
Casey perked up with a wicked grin. “Oh, now I kind of want to tell people so—”
“You’re a bastard,” I laughed.
He chuckled, pulling me back in for a kiss. “To be serious, we can keep things on the DL. If people find out, they find out, but we won’t broadcast it.”
“Perfect.” I brushed my lips across his. “Long as we get to keep doing this.”
“Oh, we will,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “And oh my God, I can’t wait until my leg is healed.” He nipped my lower lip. “Because when it is, I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”
I whimpered against his mouth.
I couldn’t wait either.
Desk detail bored me to tears. If I hadn’t had classes to teach, I’d have been climbing the walls from day one.
And that was before I started fucking one of my coworkers.
Surprise, surprise—that didn’t make the days go by any faster. Not only was I bored stupid between classes, but I had something to look forw
ard to after work, which just made the hours stretch on even longer.
I wondered if time would’ve moved this slowly if the object of my orgasms hadn’t been sitting six feet away.
We’d spent the entire weekend testing my bed frame and pissing off my neighbors, and apparently now we were supposed to keep working. I was supposed to concentrate on putting together PowerPoint presentations about whatever dry, boring bullshit the Navy couldn’t be bothered to give us something premade for when all I wanted to do was deep-throat Logan until he screamed.
It wasn’t that I was shocked to realize a weekend of sex hadn’t gotten Logan out of my system. I wasn’t stupid—I hadn’t expected to get naked with him and come away without wanting to do it all over again. I just hadn’t realized how quickly and intensely I’d get hooked on him. Or how seriously fucking distracting it was to have him sitting right there while I was slogging through my mind-numbing job.
Every time I left the office to teach a class, I’d get out of earshot, pause, and take a few deep breaths.
And every time I took a step without my leg so much as twinging, I’d remember that it wouldn’t be much longer before the bones were healed and the boot was off, and I’d get all flustered at the thought of finally getting to ride Logan’s ass. Blowjobs and handjobs were fine and good, but after the way his eyes had lit up when I’d mentioned fucking him? God. Yeah. I needed that. Like . . . now.
“GM2?” a student’s voice prodded at me.
I shook myself and blinked a few times, then looked out at the classroom full of Sailors in green or blue camouflage, all watching me with puzzled expressions. Someone had asked a question. Right? I had a marker in my hand. Because I’d taken a step toward the whiteboard to write something down. And my leg hadn’t twinged, so I’d gotten distracted, but before that . . .
Oh. Right.
I cleared my throat, pulled myself together, and went on with answering the Sailor’s question about the arrest procedures we’d been discussing. I made it through the rest of class without getting distracted again, and with my dignity more or less intact, I went back to the office.
I’d barely sat down when my phone buzzed. From the subtle throat clearing behind me, I knew before I looked at the screen who the text had come from. Just to be on the safe side, I glanced around to make sure Diego or Sarah weren’t watching me, and then checked the message.
Think our lunch break is long enough for a quickie?
My breath caught. I looked over my shoulder, and Logan was eyeing me. He had his back to Sarah and was leaning over a desk drawer, but he was definitely watching me. The way the corner of his mouth rose made my heart race almost as much as his text message had.
A lunch break quickie? Tempting. Even more tempting, though, was fucking with him first, so I wrote, Might be fun to tease you until tonight.
I sent the message, trying hard not to smirk. When his phone buzzed and he read the screen, I very nearly had to put a hand over my mouth to contain my laughter.
He shot me an offended look, and huffed.
The laugh escaped. I smothered some of it with a cough, but couldn’t wipe the smirk off my lips. Logan’s indignant typing on his phone didn’t help at all.
He put the phone down hard. Then mine buzzed.
That’s just mean.
I snickered.
The sound of a throat being cleared made me pause, and I turned to see Sarah watching me, one eyebrow up. Behind me, Logan made a sound that might’ve been a cough, or might’ve been some badly covered amusement. Sarah’s eyes flicked toward him, and that eyebrow rose even higher. I thought she might comment, but then she shook her head and put up her hands in an I don’t want to know gesture before she went back to whatever she was working on.
Out from under her scrutiny, I reached for my phone and wrote back, Maybe I am. Or maybe I just want to spend more than a lunch break on you.
I knew the instant he got the message from the pained groan that came from his cubicle.
“My text stands,” he grumbled.
I glanced back at him. He tried to look annoyed, but the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. I winked. He laughed.
Then I typed out, You’re right. I’m a tease. Gonna tease you ALL day.
As soon as that one was sent, I added, Your mouth would be awesome on this hard-on.
I pressed my lips together to contain myself as I hit Send.
Behind me, Logan’s phone buzzed quietly.
A second later, a pen bounced off the cabinet beside my head, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud.
Sarah stood, clicked her tongue, shook her head, and as she walked past to the copy machine, muttered, “Little boys . . .”
I snorted.
The afternoon was busier. That didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking constantly about testing Logan’s gag reflex, but at least the time passed a little faster.
Sarah left to teach a class. Diego went to a meeting with Commander Fraser. I heard Logan moving around, and thought maybe he was going to get another box of records or something, and—
And realized a split second too late that he’d come into my cube. Before I could react, he grabbed my chin, lifted it, and planted a bruising kiss on my lips. He forced my mouth open with his tongue, and when I let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure, he released me completely, leaving me reeling and dizzy.
“Now who’s the tease?” he growled.
“Me.” I licked my lips. “Because you just turned yourself on even more, didn’t you?”
He rolled his eyes, but smirked as he leaned in for another kiss. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you love every second of it.”
“Uh-huh.” He kissed me again, lightly this time. “You’re gonna pay, though.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“Hmm.” He quirked his lips like it actually took some thought. Then he looked into my eyes and said in a sultry voice, “You can deep-throat, right?”
I gulped. “You know I can.”
Logan licked his lips. Then he winked and left my cubicle.
Goddamn. Was it five o’clock yet?
“Make sure you’ve signed the muster sheet,” I said over the noise of the class getting ready to leave. “If you’re not on the sheet, you’ll be retaking the class. So if you don’t want to spend more time with me?” I held up the clipboard.
Most of the class left, but three Sailors came up to put their names on the muster sheet.
While one of the students waited for the clipboard, he eyed me. “Oh hey, you’re the guy who came here from SEAL training, right?”
I tried to smile. This conversation again? “You’ve heard of me?”
“Yep. That sucks! So, like, you couldn’t hack it?”
My smile probably looked more like a grimace by the time he’d finished the question. “Not with two broken bones in my leg, no.”
His eyes widened. “Whoa.” Apparently he hadn’t connected the boot on my leg to the lack of a trident on my blouse. Or the rumors going around—nobody gossiped like Sailors—had left out that little tidbit. He started to say something, but paused to put his name on the muster sheet before he turned to me again. “Man, you’re lucky, though.” He shook his head and solemnly added, “Every SEAL I’ve ever known has come back really fucked up. Like—” He circled his finger by his ear in a crazy gesture.
I pressed my lips together. “Yeah. So I’ve heard.” I didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of my tone. “It’s kind of an occupational hazard.”
He gave me a smile that was probably supposed to be sympathetic, but thank God he didn’t try to insist that, yes, I really had dodged a bullet. Instead, he let the subject drop and followed his buddies out of the classroom.
As soon as they were gone, I closed my eyes and forced out a breath. Really? That shit again? Another total stranger reminding me how lucky I was not to be a SEAL? I’d known a guy back on my last ship who’d washed out, and he’d warned me that I’d hear about it forever if
I didn’t make it through training. I hadn’t thought anything of it. Graduating had been a foregone conclusion, so I hadn’t given two shits about what might happen in that hypothetical parallel universe where I couldn’t do it. Talk about a rude awakening.
Sighing, I stuffed the binder of leftover handouts into my backpack along with the muster sheet. Then I slung the pack onto my shoulder and headed out of the room, my pride deflating a little every time my boot clunked on the floor.
My good mood had soured. Every time someone reminded me that I’d dodged a few bullets by washing out of BUD/S, I had to fight the urge to let them have it. Then they’d walk off, going about their merry way, and I’d be left stewing.
Grinding my teeth as I headed for the elevator, I really hoped no one picked today to remind me that I shouldn’t have focused so much of my life and identity on becoming a SEAL. After all, there had never been any guarantees I’d make it into BUD/S, never mind through it, so I should have been realistic and had a backup plan. Because all of that was exactly what a guy needed to hear when he couldn’t take one single step without being reminded that his dream had ended.
In the office, I very nearly tossed my loaded backpack on the floor beside my chair, but caught myself. I had two combat vets within almost arm’s reach, and there were more within earshot. I took a deep breath, then eased the bag down. Not nearly as satisfying, but it didn’t trigger anyone, so whatever.
I spent the afternoon grinding my teeth, typing harder than I needed to, and fantasizing about getting my cast off so I could drop-kick my computer monitor out the window. I was so caught up in my annoyance, I didn’t even realize Diego and Sarah had left the office until I was walking—sort of—back from the copier, and Logan stopped me with a brazen hand on my arm.
But there was no one to notice him touching me. Or looking at me like that. Or me startling, tensing, and then relaxing into his touch.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “Hey, you all right?”
“Peachy.” Instantly, I felt bad for snapping, and added in a softer voice, “Sorry. I’m . . .”
