Three Vlog Night

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “I’m sorry—”

  “I got away from my life as a thug and turned to work as a mercenary. Better, but not exactly honest work. I often went on long-term assignments, but we made it work. She made my life softer. Our place was a home….”

  “And you had the girls.”

  “Yes.” Dmytro swallowed. “And then the hard part of my life and the sweet part collided. There was a bombing. Nothing related to my work, except it’s all related, isn’t it? While I’m home from fighting for mercenary money in Syria, a terrorist bomb goes off in Germany…. I made it out of our apartment with the girls, but Yulia was asleep in the bedroom. I let her sleep in, you see? I was making pancakes and—”

  “You couldn’t have known—” Ajax bit his lip when the assassin manifested in Dmytro’s eyes. He’d never seen such a look from the man he’d been falling in love with, didn’t want to see it ever again—the blank, cold, shark-eyed stare of a man already dead.

  He didn’t dare push further. He’d already pried the lid off Dmytro’s memories—opened him wider, he was certain, than anyone had before. He didn’t want Dmytro to relive bad memories. He didn’t want to lead him back to places where he’d be lost forever.

  How he wished he could take Dmytro’s hand, or something.

  That would be too awful. Dmytro didn’t want his pity.

  Dmytro shocked him by placing a hand on his foot. He only covered it, as though the comfort of human touch had been denied him for so long, and he needed it so badly, any kind of contact would do. Slowly, Ajax stretched out his legs. Dmytro let his fingers drift from his foot, to his ankle, up his calf to his knee. There was nothing intentionally erotic about his touch. It was sensual but not provocative. Still, Ajax couldn’t breathe. His heart rattled jackhammer fast. His chest formed a band around his lungs.

  Ever so slowly, he turned to his side and scooted over. Dmytro kept a hand on his leg.

  “If you want, you can rest in here for a while.”

  Dmytro removed his hand to pick up the vodka, uncorked it, and took a long drink. “It’s unprofessional. My colleagues will believe I’m in here fucking you.”

  “What do you care?” Ajax spoke before he thought. “No. I’m sorry. This is your livelihood. Never mi—”

  “I’ll leave the cabin door open. I’m uselessly tired anyway. I need a goddamn break.”

  Ajax closed his eyes. Waited. Then Dmytro’s body landed behind his, bulky and long. The heat of him was like a bonfire at Ajax’s back. Warm puffs of breath tickled his neck. After a moment, Dmytro pressed his face into Ajax’s skin and inhaled deeply. Sighed softly.

  “So tired,” Dmytro muttered. “Need to rest my eyes.”

  When Dmytro’s hand snaked around to rest over his heart, Ajax covered it with his.

  He didn’t know what this new behavior on Dmytro’s part meant. Didn’t dare guess. He wanted so goddamn much more. Tender kisses, soft touches, and teasing. A good hard fuck.

  He’d hoped to take advantage of their quiet cabin—if only to show Dmytro how good it could be between them. But Ajax wanted his heart too, and he doubted he’d get that by pushing things.

  They’d both fallen under a spell from the night, the gently rolling sea, and moonlight coming in from the tiny window cast over them. He didn’t want to ruin things between them before they could get started by pushing. And making a move, even an awesome one, wasn’t worth destroying his chance to befriend Dmytro—to be there for him and his girls the way Anton had always been for Ajax. No.

  Patience wasn’t his superpower, but he had to let this play out on Dmytro’s timetable. If what was building between them was real, it could be wonderful. It could last. But if it wasn’t, forcing things would kill any other possibility.

  Simple affection, human touch, and respect seemed to be missing in Dmytro’s life. Maybe that’s why Yulia had been “armfuls of sunflowers.” Maybe she was simply kind. Loving. Tender. Maybe empathy was what this anguished, bitter, repentant, decent man needed most of all.

  Ajax closed his eyes and drifted, unsurprised to find sleep came easy in Dmytro’s arms.

  Chapter 20

  AJAX WOKE after dawn with the feeling something was very wrong. Behind him, Dmytro’s whole body shook. He turned with a start, cold dread hitting him, along with the memory that Dmytro suffered seizures.

  Dmytro’s eyes were open and fixed on him, blue eclipsed by the darkness of his pupils. He whispered, “You’re awake?”

  Not a seizure, then. Ajax chafed Dmytro’s free arm. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

  “No.” Dmytro lowered is lashes and gave a minute shake of his head.

  Ajax’s breath rushed out with surprise.

  There were other reasons Dmytro might be trembling. Other things that made a man’s pupils bloom and caused sweat to dot his forehead.

  Recklessly, he reached for Dmytro’s hip and pulled their bodies together, offering his warmth, showing his desire—sharing hot skin and quick, sharp breaths.

  Dmytro swallowed hard. “You—”

  “Do you want me, Dmytro?” Ajax asked.

  Dmytro’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Indecision hovered on his face as need lit him up from within.

  “Come here.” Ajax drew him close enough for them to feel each other’s heat from head to toe.

  Dmytro’s trembling turned to quakes. He was fighting himself, Ajax realized. Dmytro was wholly at war with what he wanted, and he fought it so hard, he shook with the effort.

  “I won’t push,” Ajax whispered.

  “You always push.” Dmytro leaned forward and gently bit his upper lip, drawing it out, letting it go with a snap. “You push and pry and hammer away at my self-control, and—”

  “Is it working?” he asked.

  “Goddammit.” He took Ajax’s hip in a bruising grip and pulled Ajax on top of him. “What do you think?”

  Oh yeah. The thick cock beneath his left no doubt.

  This wasn’t quite what he’d expected. He gave an experimental pump of his hips and groaned at the fire that burst in his groin. Under these circumstances, after all their flirting, he wasn’t going to last, even if they just rubbed off on one another.

  Is that what Dmytro wanted? He gave another roll of his hips, this time pushing harder, dragging his cock across Dmytro’s until a thousand dots of pleasure burst in his spine and over his buttocks where Dmytro still had him in a death grip. Is this what I want?

  He decided. Yes… I want this. I want you, you stubborn, shifty bastard.

  Something of his answer must have shown on his face, because Dmytro gave a quick look behind at the open door, then rolled them over again, hiding their bodies deep in the part of the bed where sunlight coming in from the window didn’t reach. His hand came down on Ajax’s mouth while he looked deeply into his eyes.

  “You truly want this?”

  Wide-eyed, Ajax nodded. He wanted whatever Dmytro wanted to give him. But this? Crushed beneath Dmytro’s hard, muscled body, with Dmytro’s hand over his mouth? Who knew that would be this fucking awesome?

  “Be quiet,” Dmytro whispered.

  Ajax’s whole body shivered with pure lust and his hips shot up. Dmytro grabbed his knee with his loose hand, pulled his legs apart to settle between them, and delicious heat flooded his veins.

  Dmytro ground down, and Ajax arched and arched and arched. He bucked up, sliding their dicks together as if he was trying to start a fire between their bodies. There was clothing between them, and parts of the bedding, but it didn’t matter. All he cared about was the feel of Dmytro’s dick moving along his in that parody of fucking, with the added fillip of dominance because Dmytro’s hand still covered his mouth.

  He opened his lips to lick Dmytro’s palm and tasted sweat. Watched as Dmytro closed his eyes with pleasure, then opened them again to gaze down at him as if he were the only man in the world.

  “Suck my fingers,” Dmytro ordered. Ajax did as he was told. “Yes, God. Your mouth is goddamn f
ire, I can’t wait to make you suck my dick.”

  A burst of pure hunger hit Ajax at the image, making him groan around Dmytro’s slick fingers. Yes, he’d get on his knees for this cold, beautiful man. And love it.

  Three fingers meant he couldn’t speak, but he couldn’t anyway. He was dying. Pleasure was killing him. He sucked Dmytro’s fingers and let him crush his body. He got Dmytro off because that’s what this felt like—as if he were a doll and Dmytro was using him. His own pleasure might be secondary, but the joke was on Dmytro, because he loved this.

  He was a doll in a claw machine with ecstasy gripping him tighter and tighter….

  Dmytro’s rough hand squeezed his knee. Ajax got a good grip on Dmytro’s tight ass and wrapped his legs around thick thighs.

  He curled himself between Dmytro’s weight and the thin, lumpy mattress. The board beneath them was the fabled Omega Point—where fierce pressure against his ass began and ended and from which he bucked mindlessly toward heaven.

  There was no place to go. Nothing for it but to submit to each surge of Dmytro’s hips. Nothing to do but accept the waves of delight Dmytro was offering, surge, and shove back. To offer Dmytro as much as he could give in return.

  Upward and upward they spiraled, until Ajax whined around the fingers that choked off his moans and Dmytro drew a gasping breath next to his ear and became utterly silent, holding his body stiff.

  Stuttering puffs of air heated Ajax’s neck—a soft, broken sound—and Ajax knew Dmytro’d come like a boy, dampening his shorts and the jeans he wore.

  Ajax seized on the knowledge and let his body join in, his climax like a bottle rocket that shot and soared and burst. He gave out a soft groan when it happened, head falling back onto the flat pillow, body relaxing all at once.

  Dmytro kept his face in the juncture of Ajax’s neck and shoulder but withdrew his hand, allowing Ajax to breathe freely.

  Ajax pressed soft kisses to his temple, his ear. He cupped the back of Dmytro’s head, cradling him, wondering what was going through Dmytro’s mind. He didn’t ask.

  Dmytro swallowed against his neck.

  “It’s all right,” Ajax offered, holding him. Rocking him. “It’s all right.”

  Dark laughter met his skin. “I should be reassuring you, little mink.”

  “Nuh-uh. I’m a boar, remember?” Ajax did not regret a second of their passion. If Dmytro thought he did, he hadn’t been paying attention. “Dangerous and unpredictable.”

  Dmytro lifted his head. “The cabin will stink of sex.”

  “Only if we did it right.” Ajax thumbed Dmytro’s jaw. “You are a beautiful, fucked-up man.”

  “This situation is fucked.” Dmytro hesitated for a moment but rolled off him. “Bartosz will know, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Is that all that worries you? Whether your coworkers will tease you?” Ajax tried worrying about things, but other than the squishy mess in his boxer briefs, he felt absolutely fabulous: boneless and relaxed and maybe even a little happy. “You got any tissues around here?”

  He was rarely practical, which was why he hadn’t checked beforehand.

  Dmytro shrugged and sat up, dropping his legs over the side of the bed. He began going through the drawers, one by one, until he found an old T-shirt.

  “Here.” He offered it to Ajax, who wiped himself as clean as possible before handing it back.

  Dmytro took it without looking up and did the same.

  “We’re good, right?” Ajax couldn’t believe he had to ask. “I want what happened to be… something. Not a thing we did because—”

  “You frayed my last nerve?”

  Ajax had to smile at that. “We’re good, right?”

  “Of course.” Finally Dmytro’s pale blue eyes lifted. He seemed defeated, but a small smile hovered on his lips. “Aren’t we good?”

  “It’s not Stockholm Syndrome or anything. I’m drawn to you. I like you. God knows I wanted you—”

  “What you feel belongs to Anton. You know nothing of me.”

  “I know what I’ve seen. And you barely know me, yet here we are.”

  Despite his gruff demeanor, Dmytro took his hand and laced their fingers together. He brought them to his lips for the softest of kisses. “Here we are.”

  Dmytro dropped Ajax’s hand and moved forward slowly. If Ajax hadn’t wanted his kiss so badly, he could have avoided it a hundred different ways. Instead he lifted his face, and Dmytro gave him the most delicate, the most hesitant kiss he’d ever gotten.

  Dmytro smiled shyly and drew back, flushing like he’d been caught masturbating at prom. “So weird.”

  “What?” asked Ajax. “Kissing?”

  “Kissing you.” Dmytro glanced away again. “With you I give butterfly kisses. I don’t know how to act.”

  “Well, I am injured.” Ajax thumbed his cut lip. “Plus, there’s a time and place for all kinds of kisses. I loved your sweet kiss just now, but it was super hot when you jammed your fingers down my throat. Put that one down in your diary as a yes. More, please.”

  “Oh yeah?” Dmytro tilted his head and shot him a sexy glance through his lashes. “You like it a little rough?”

  “Sometimes.” Ajax brushed Dmytro’s thick hair off his brow. “Sometimes I want things slow and sexy, and sometimes I want it red-hot. I want it all.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Dmytro teased.

  “My point is….” Ajax held his gaze. “I could have it all with a man who was willing to try it all with me. You gonna be that man?”

  “It’s… complicated.” An emotional shadow passed over Dmytro’s face. “I don’t know if I can be that for anyone.”

  “I understand.” Ajax swallowed the burn in his throat before he turned away.

  Dmytro caught his shoulder. “No, you don’t. My life isn’t simple like the life of a boy who has everything. Who has no responsibility. Whose parents adore him. Whose life will play out on the world’s stage—supporting charities, traveling, living in the public eye, cutting ribbons and—”

  Ajax sat back. “Is that what you think? That I’m the crown prince of some American megafamily and all I’ll do once I go home is conform?”

  Dmytro pulled his hand back. “I know you won’t go back to being Ajax Freedom.”

  “Of course not. But whatever I do, I will always be my own man. I’ll make my own way, and if that includes charity or travel, so be it. I’ll make my own family too. I’ll have my own friends. You could be a force for good in my life, Dmytro. Our worlds aren’t that far apart.”

  Dmytro sighed. “You can always hire me through Iphicles if you need security.”

  “You deliberately misunderstand me.” Ajax clasped his hands together to keep from reaching out. Somehow, at some point, Dmytro had become his rock. Now, he needed that rock. He wanted to be able to lean on it—to hold on to it through thick or thin—and it was as if he drifted farther away from it with every word they spoke. “I don’t want security—not the way you think, anyway.”

  “You are twenty-two years old, Ajax. You can’t know what you want. Especially when you’re under my protection and your emotions are confused by gratitude.”

  Ajax huffed a laugh. “The Iphicles safe house was compromised, the car broke down. I got shot at. I am on a boat even though I have both claustrophobia and violent motion sickness. I despise boats. You think I’m confused by gratitude? I don’t think that word means what you think it means…. Is there someone else?”

  Dmytro scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’m thirty-six. I have children. I—I must live for them now. Not for myself. There is no one else but my girls. What I want can’t matter. Can you not understand?”

  A light came on for Ajax. “You don’t trust me not to hurt you. You think I’ll worm my way into your life and then leave you alone in it, like….”

  Dmytro opened his mouth. Closed it.

  “I’m right. Say it. You think this is situational or that I’ll change my mind in six m
onths. That I’ll meet your girls and break all your hearts—”

  “Even if that were true, how can this be anything else?” Dmytro asked sadly. “When this is over, Iphicles will walk away. You’ll resume your normal life, and I will go back to mine.”

  “And you think there’s no way to bridge that gap between us?”

  “What I think is—” From his pocket, Dmytro’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out and gave it a glance. “Not important. My girls are calling. I’m going to take it upstairs.”

  “All right.” Ajax didn’t even try to argue. He’d seen the bright spark of joy that burst in Dmytro’s eyes when he saw his daughters’ contact images. It warmed him too. “Say hello for me.”

  Dmytro didn’t hear him, or else he didn’t acknowledge he heard. He left the cabin without looking back.

  Ajax lay against the pillows and sighed heavily. There was nothing to argue about. Dmytro would either come to see the possibilities they had, or he wouldn’t.

  Ajax was a possibilities guy. He invariably saw a hundred moves ahead. He’d always known his heart, known what he wanted, and gone for it with all the force of his being. He’d learned early on that he couldn’t do that with people. He had to let them figure out what was best for them, and if it wasn’t what he wanted? He had to be okay with that.

  If Dmytro didn’t see what was growing between them—if he didn’t want it or couldn’t find a way to make it work—then Ajax would have to let him go. He was finished with trying to force things that didn’t fit, with being outrageous, with schemes and plans. If Dmytro reached for him, he would be there—for Dmytro and for his girls. If Dmytro didn’t want him….

  Ajax had to learn to like himself when he was by himself, so maybe it was for the best.

  Seconds after he left, Dmytro returned to the cabin, both hands in the air.

  Ajax had only a confused moment to realize Peter held a gun to his head.

  Topside, there was a single crack of gunfire, a shout, and a splash.

  “Chet?” Peter called toward the stairs. “Mission accomplished?”

  “Yessir.” Chet thudded down the stairs and stood in the cabin’s doorway behind Peter.