by Sloan Parker
What could he say to that? Deny that for weeks now he’d been having the most erotic dreams about them fucking each other? Dreams he’d been trying to tell himself meant nothing? Because that would be the first time he’d ever lied to Finn.
Finn repeated the action, rubbing the heavy bulge hidden under those black briefs against the front of Sawyer’s jeans. “You almost kissed me the other night. Sitting right there on my damn couch.”
“So?”
“So, you think it’s going to be easy to push aside what you want?”
“Yeah.” He had to. Didn’t he?
Finn searched Sawyer’s face for a long moment. Then he dropped his arms and stepped back. “Okay.” He watched him for another few seconds, the anger and frustration dissipating. Something much more like disappointment followed. He turned for the door.
“Where are you going?”
With a glance back over his shoulder, Finn said, dryly, much too evenly, “To eat tacos.” He continued toward the hallway.
Fuck that. Sawyer was across the room in three steps. He crowded Finn face-first to the wall by the bedroom door. He leaned in until the arousal he couldn’t ignore at the front of his jeans was tight to Finn’s ass. He pressed his lips to Finn’s ear. “Fuck yeah, I want you. Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Finn gasped in response. He reached around with one arm and gripped Sawyer’s ass. “So do it.”
That time it was Sawyer who worked his cock against Finn. He propped both of his hands on the wall, one on each side of Finn’s shoulders, and humped against him like he was trying to get inside him, and they still had the jeans and briefs in the way. He was practically grunting in Finn’s ear with each shift of his hips, Finn driving back to meet him with as much force.
Then Finn let go of him and went for those black briefs like he was going to tug them out of the way.
Sawyer didn’t think. He stopped Finn’s movements and slid a hand under his chin, turning Finn’s head to the side. He wanted him, but not just to fuck. He wanted it all. He plastered his lips to Finn’s, hoping to hell Finn wasn’t going to pummel him in response.
He didn’t. Finn wrapped a hand around the back of Sawyer’s head and held on. He parted his lips and slid his tongue into the touch, deepening the kiss, feeding him what felt like months of desire and need into that one silky, wet press of their mouths.
Sawyer had never been kissed like that. Not once.
He was going to lose it with just Finn’s lips on his. He pulled back. “Need to…”
“Yeah.” Finn went for his underwear again.
Sawyer slapped his hand out of the way and grasped the briefs himself, tugging them down Finn’s legs, planting kiss after kiss on all that firm, solid skin as he went, finally getting the chance to explore the body he’d been dreaming about for weeks. He ran his lips and tongue over the warm flesh of Finn’s lower back, his ass cheeks, the backs of his thighs, all the while breathing in his scent.
When he had the underwear down to Finn’s calves, he stood straight. Finn kicked the briefs off the rest of the way while Sawyer got his own jeans open and his dick out. Only then did he realize what else they needed.
He swore under his breath, managed to grunt out one word. “Condom.”
Finn pointed to the nightstand by the bed, his arm shaking with the gesture. Sawyer forced himself to step away and went for the drawer. He found condoms and lube, grabbed both. By the time he was back to Finn, Sawyer had the condom on and his erection slicked up with the lube.
Finn was still facing the wall, his forehead pressed to it, both hands flat to the surface. He was breathing heavily, his entire upper body shifting with each harsh inhale. “Hurry.”
“Am.” Sawyer laughed as he leaned into Finn. “Who knew you’d be this bossy?” Not that he cared. He loved it, loved Finn sounding—and looking—so desperate. All because it was Sawyer who was about to get inside him.
As if to confirm that thought, Finn stuck his ass out, spread his legs, making room for Sawyer.
Sawyer dropped his forehead to Finn’s shoulder, trying to calm down so he didn’t embarrass himself and explode on contact. Another deep breath. He couldn’t wait one more second. He lifted his head and drove forward. Finn’s ass swallowed the tip of his cock, and Sawyer had to stop again. The tight grip of heat encasing the head of his dick was almost more than he could take.
Finn was breathing harder. “God, Sawyer. Don’t hold back.”
So he didn’t. He thrust his hips forward, then repeated the action again and again, setting a pace in and out like a man on a mission, fucking Finn against the wall.
Not that Finn seemed to mind. He clawed at the surface before him, groaned with each slam of their bodies, with each stab of Sawyer’s dick inside his ass.
“Shit.” This wasn’t going to last long. Sawyer jerked his hips faster, harder. “Gonna…” Oh fuck, was he ever. He plunged into Finn one last time and came, his body plastered to Finn, holding on to him as he shuddered through the spike of release.
When he finally stilled and the intense pleasure eased, he collapsed against Finn. “Holy hell. That was…” He breathed deep. He had no words.
“Uh-huh.” Finn sounded tense with need.
Sawyer ditched the condom, grabbed Finn by the upper arms, and spun him around. He captured Finn’s mouth in another kiss, taking him in hand at the same time. He stroked his length, tightening and twisting his grip at the head of Finn’s erection, all the while never letting up on the kiss. Then he got his hand moving faster, sending it flying over Finn’s cock.
Finn threw his head back to the wall and arched into the touch. “Fuck, yes!” Apparently that really did it for him.
If he liked that…
Sawyer dropped to his knees. This part he was damn good at. He swallowed Finn’s cock in one lunge. Hearing Finn’s guttural moan in response was all the encouragement Sawyer needed. He wanted to make this so damn good for him.
Yet it was something else too.
He wanted more than this one moment. So much more.
A few minutes later, as Finn gripped the back of his head and exploded in his mouth with another drawn-out groan that included Sawyer’s name in the mix, Sawyer knew that if he had anything to say about it, they were both going to get more.
A hell of a lot more.
* * * *
Sawyer awoke the next morning from a restless sleep filled with dreams of that first night with Finn. He lay there hard and wanting, but there was also a lingering sorrow that he couldn’t shake, and it overshadowed everything. He didn’t even bother to take himself in hand. Instead he rolled his head to the side and took note of the still-empty pillow beside him.
“Damn him.”
He forced himself to look away and glanced at the clock. Five a.m. He so didn’t need to be up this early. He should try to get more sleep, but that might mean more dreams. No way in hell was he going there.
He got up and paused to sit at the edge of the bed, giving himself a minute to fully wake up. There was no need to rush. The entire SWAT team wasn’t on until later. They were scheduled for a series of night raids. The unit was typically on call 24-7, but since call-outs weren’t an everyday occurrence, they usually went in on first shift to keep up with their rigorous training, work crime suppression, or assist with specialized training for the rest of the division.
Not that day, though. He had twelve hours until he had to be in. How the hell was he going to keep himself busy all day? And keep his mind off Finn and his ridiculous ultimatum?
A task that turned out to be impossible. The day dragged.
He went through the e-mail he’d been letting pile up in his in-box, deleted the spam, scrubbed out the bathroom shower that he hadn’t bothered with in weeks, and cleaned out his neglected fridge. After he had the full garbage bag tied up, he glanced at the clock. Ten a.m. Great. Seven more hours.
When he finally got on duty that night, he was tired and crabby. He didn’t talk to a soul as
he made his way to his locker and checked his gear. The scheduled raids were minor shit, but a call-out could go bad at any moment. He needed to get his head in the game.
Easier to do if he’d gotten more sleep, if some asshole had just kept his damn mouth shut the night before and let them get to the fucking. Then he’d at least be rid of the sexual frustration he’d been sporting for months now. He and Finn hadn’t slept together since before the shooting. Not once through his recovery, the rehab, and now this weirdness between them. He’d be feeling a hell of a lot better right then if he’d finally gotten laid the night before.
Right. Like the mammoth amount of tension pressing down on his chest had anything to do with sex, no matter how long it had been since he’d had Finn in his bed.
The locker room door opened, and their SWAT commander walked in. “Evening, everyone.” Weston, as he preferred the team to call him, stood stiff and straight as he surveyed the room, making eye contact with each man, his usual routine before a call-out. “We’ll be one man short tonight.”
Sawyer glanced around the room. That one man was Finn. Where the fuck was he?
“Briefing in ten,” Weston added, then turned to leave.
Sawyer trailed the commander out. “Where’s Masters?”
Weston kept on moving down the hall as he talked. “On vacation.”
“He’s off tonight?”
“That’s what vacation means. He was going to lose the days if he didn’t take them, so I let him have two weeks off.” Weston went into his office.
Finn followed him inside. “Two weeks? With no notice? Last I heard, he was just gonna let the extra days go.”
“Guess he changed his mind.” The commander sat behind his desk and eyed Sawyer with suspicion. “He earned those vacation days. They’re his to take.”
“Sure.” Although it wasn’t that straightforward. What the hell was Finn doing?
Weston kept the stare going. “You okay, Crenshaw?”
“Yeah.”
“You better be. It’s going to be a long night. Vice has us scheduled for back-to-back raids.”
Sawyer resented the implication that he’d let anything get in the way of the job. Weston was beginning to sound like Finn. Sawyer gave the commander a nod. “I’m ready.” He got moving for his locker.
But Weston was right about one thing. It was going to be a long night.
* * * *
“Open the goddamn door, Finn.” Sawyer repeatedly banged the side of his fist on the wood surface. He didn’t care if he woke up the entire block. He and Finn were talking this out. Now.
Finn’s house was a yellow bungalow situated on the same quiet street where Finn had grown up. He was still close with his entire family. His siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, the whole lot of them. Whereas Sawyer wanted nothing to do with the fucked-up family or the twisted childhood he’d tried hard to forget.
Another bang with his fist, and the door flew open. Finn stood there, dark stubble on his face, wearing jeans and nothing else, even his feet bare. “Would you shut the hell up? It’s the middle of the damn night. You’re gonna piss off my neighbors.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Sawyer pushed past Finn and went inside. “Where were you tonight?”
“Here. I decided to take my vacation.”
“Why? Are you going somewhere?”
Finn shut the door and faced Sawyer. “No.”
“So you’re just gonna stay here alone in your house for two weeks?”
“I’m going to remodel the bathroom like I’ve been talking about doing. Even started working on retiling the floor tonight.”
“Sure. The team goes out on three drug raids, putting their lives on the line, and you’re here messing with tile and grout and shit? Makes total sense.”
“Fuck you.” He started forward like he was going to pass by and head down the hall without another word.
Sawyer grabbed Finn’s arm and got him stopped. “Why weren’t you there?”
“I can’t do it anymore.” Finn jerked his arm out of Sawyer’s grip. “I’m retiling my bathroom floor so you’ll have time and space to think.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re the one who’s gotta make up his mind.”
“Why are you putting all this on my shoulders?”
“Because I’ve already made up mine. One of us has to leave the job if we want to keep things going between the sheets.”
Sawyer shook his head in disbelief. If Finn thought one of them had to walk away from SWAT, then fine, let Finn do it. He cringed at the thought, though, and kept it quiet because Finn quitting sounded as bad as Sawyer leaving himself. He couldn’t stand the thought of Finn not being there every day, not doing something he was meant to do.
As if in answer to an unspoken question, Finn added, “I can’t make this call alone. It’s not just my life.”
“You’re damn right it’s not.” Sawyer turned away and stormed into the kitchen. He knew Finn’s place as well as his own apartment. He went to the fridge and reached for a Corona. He held the cold bottle in his fist but paused with the beer still sitting on the shelf. If he started knocking them back, he wasn’t going to stop. He was too damn pissed and confused and horny. Losing all that to the buzz of about six beers sounded good. Too good.
He grabbed a bottle of soda instead and chugged half of it down before he slammed the refrigerator door closed and spun around. Finn stood at the kitchen doorway. Shit, he looked good. His sculpted arms were folded over that broad, bare chest, and the worn jeans rode low on his lean hips, showcasing his stellar set of abs. An incredible body trained in tactical firearms, live fire entries, and hand-to-hand combat.
Sawyer tightened his grip on the bottle of soda. He wanted to walk over there, grab the man, drag him down the hall to the bedroom, and forget everything else. Instead, he rested his ass against the kitchen counter, hoping the contact would ground him to that spot before he made a stupid move he couldn’t take back.
They stared each other down. There was a hard edge to Finn’s expression, but the longer they kept their gazes locked, the more the look in Finn’s eyes softened, became something Sawyer was intimately familiar with. Finn unfolded his arms and took a step forward.
Sawyer held up a hand. “Don’t.”
Finn stopped. “What?”
“You get any closer, I’m not going to be able to think straight.”
“Maybe I don’t want you thinking straight.” Finn smirked and started for him again.
“Stop.”
Finn didn’t. And Sawyer knew this wasn’t going to end well. He couldn’t take getting another go with Finn if that was all he was ever going to have, couldn’t stand thinking it would be the last time he’d ever get to kiss him, touch him, find himself buried in that amazing ass. Knowing it was the end would make every single moment they were in each other’s arms too damn intense.
Apparently Finn didn’t care. He’d already changed tactics and was now a man on a mission. He halted before Sawyer, took the bottle of soda from him, and set it aside. He leaned in and propped his hands on the counter on either side of Sawyer, trapping him in place. That look of lust and longing was still there in Finn’s eyes. “I want you. Like I’ve never wanted anyone. Even after all this time together.”
Sawyer didn’t respond, didn’t make a move, but his resolve was fading fast. He looked away and let out an unsteady exhale. He met Finn’s stare again, and for the first time since he’d known the man, he saw a desperate plea in those brown eyes staring back at him.
That was it. Nothing could stop Sawyer now. He gripped Finn by the waist and hauled him forward. The kiss was explosive, stubble scratching stubble, their lips and tongues joining again and again.
Finn held Sawyer’s face in both hands and pressed him to the counter, taking his mouth in another captivating kiss.
They clutched at each other, rocked body against body, fought for dominance with the kiss, neither letting up. Finn ran both hands down
Sawyer’s body, then up his torso, lifting his T-shirt as he went. He raised it over Sawyer’s head, and the fabric got tangled up.
Finn held the shirt where it was wrapped around Sawyer’s wrists and laughed. “I should tie you to my bed like this until you make up your mind.”
Sawyer snorted out a laugh. “Don’t even think about it.” They’d tried the handcuffs thing once. Only it had been Finn secured to Sawyer’s headboard, and it had been hot as hell. Sawyer wouldn’t actually mind trying it the other way around sometime, but not right then. Not when there was a chance they wouldn’t get to do this again. He wanted to feel every inch of Finn. He wanted to kiss his bare flesh, explore with hands and mouth and tongue. He wanted to feel Finn’s body arching up under him as he sank into him, as he thrust inside Finn again and again. Nothing was getting in the way of that.
Finn threw him a wicked grin. “Keeping you trapped in my bed for days on end sounds like the perfect vacation to me.” Despite his words, he gave in and tugged Sawyer’s T-shirt off the rest of the way.
They kissed again, this time their bare chests pressed together. With his arms free, Sawyer swept his hands down Finn’s sides, taking in every inch of his masculine, muscular body. Finn didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, and it was heady touching all that firm flesh, feeling all those defined muscles jump and flex under his touch.
That contact alone had Sawyer already aching for release, and they were still in their damn jeans. He slid a hand between them and groaned when his palm made contact with the thick bulge of Finn’s erection.
Then abruptly, swiftly Finn stepped back, out of Sawyer’s reach. “No.” He shook his head as if he had to rid himself of the desire before he could say another word. “We can’t.”
