Sierra Cartwright - Hawkeye 01 - Danger Zone

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Sierra Cartwright - Hawkeye 01 - Danger Zone Page 2

by Sierra Cartwright


  She lost her balance, and Stone was there, wrapping his good arm around her waist, pulling her up and back, flush against the solidness of his body.

  The sensation zinging through her was from him, not the crack of lightning. “I’m good,” she told him. “Fine.”

  He held her for a couple of seconds.

  His warm breath fanned across her ear. What would it be like to lean back, she wondered, for just a bit longer? Maybe to be protected in his strong arms? To feel his cock against the small of her back? To surrender to the fantasies that kept her awake at night and her pussy moist, even now?

  And what fantasies they were.

  Last night’s sight of his semierect dick had driven her mad.

  After he returned to his own room, she’d thought of the crops and paddles in his downstairs room. She’d pictured him using them on her while she gasped and strained, and ultimately surrendered to the inevitable. Turned on and needy, she’d pulled up her sleep shirt and parted her labia to find her clit already hardened.

  She’d come with a quiet little mew and wanted nothing more than to scream the house down as his cock pounded her.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t afford thoughts like this with any man, particularly one she was sent to protect.

  Oh, man, that would go over so well when he found out.

  “I’m fine,” she repeated. “And you need to be careful. Otherwise we’ll be spending the next week undoing the damage.”

  “So speaks my physical therapist.” Before she had a chance to reply, he added, “I want you out of the storm.”

  She started down the mountainside, being more careful this time.

  The trip up had taken maybe about fifteen minutes. Down took half an hour. And by the time they reached the home’s wraparound porch, the sky spit out pieces of ice, in the form of hail.

  Very polite country, this.

  Minding her manners, she took off her shoes and left them on a rubber mat, then hung the slicker on a peg.

  Kayla told herself two lies. First, that she wasn’t stalling. Second, that her fingers were shaking only because of the cold weather.

  Stone unlocked the back door and indicated she should precede both men into the kitchen.

  Nate followed her, and then Stone relocked the door behind them.

  “You,” he demanded, pointing a finger at Nate. “I want to know what the fuck you were thinking.”

  Nate took a step back for self-preservation.

  Both men dripped water and tracked mud. Neither seemed to care. And neither seemed to notice she was even there.

  “Hawkeye didn’t assign you,” Stone surmised.

  “No,” Nate said.

  “Then you volunteered.” The storm hadn’t remained outside… It had gathered force around Wolf and threatened to consume all of them with white-hot heat.

  Nate’s retreat was brought up short when he backed into the countertop. “Yeah,” he said. “What of it?”

  “You knew I wouldn’t want you here.”

  Nate shrugged. “I knew you wouldn’t want anyone. Because you’re stubborn. And a fool.”

  “A fool?”

  “For thinking you can always do it all, all alone. No man is an island, friend. And you’d damn well do the same for me.”

  The men were a study in contrast. The planes of Wolf’s Navajo features to Nate’s boyish all-American good looks. Fair to dark. Alpha to beta.

  “Fuck your ego, Wolf. You know there’s no place I’d rather be,” Nate said, as if that explained everything.

  Kayla sucked in a breath when Wolf devoured the remaining distance with a few strides, pinning Nate totally against the counter. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

  “Wolf,” she said, licking her lower lip.

  “You,’” he said, barely sparing Kayla a glance, “will be dealt with directly.”

  Her stomach plummeted to her toes.

  She was watching two magnificent warriors spar, and, if she wasn’t careful, she’d be collateral damage.

  Wolf returned his attention to Nate, capturing the man’s head between his palms and holding him prisoner.

  What the hell…

  Wolf kissed Nate. Thoroughly. Punishingly. Brutally.

  Her breath hissed out in stunned surprise.

  Nate Davidson and Wolf Stone were gay?

  Well, turn her prim and proper world upside down and inside out. Her gaydar hadn’t gone off, not even once.

  How could two virile, handsome, masculine men -- men that she wanted to fuck -- possibly be gay? And just how bad did it suck to be her?

  Chapter Two

  “Nice to see you, too,” Nate said when Stone ended the kiss. The man had all but shoved his tongue down his throat. He’d barely had time to breathe, and he tasted the potency of Irish whiskey on Stone’s tongue.

  Just from that, Nate’s cock was hard and insistent. Carnal desire curled in his stomach. He wanted this man’s domination, craved it.

  All the anger, the frustration, the neediness that had built over the last twelve months crashed into him.

  Stone’s dick was as hard as his own. He might tell Nate his presence wasn’t wanted at the ranch, but his body said something else entirely.

  If he said the word, Nate’d drop his pants and be bent over the end of the bed so fast …

  Then, aware of Kayla, he said to Stone, “I think we’ve shocked Ms. Fagan. But I’m betting it won’t be the last time.”

  “I’m…errr…” Kayla cleared her throat. “Yeah…just…”

  Nate saw her draw in a steadying breath. He knew how she felt. He hadn’t exactly been expecting that, either.

  “I’m surprised. I had no idea.”

  “That?”

  “You’re both gay.”

  “Bi,” Nick said. “As for Stone, as long as he’s in charge, he’s happy.”

  “I can wait in the other room,” she said. “Or brew coffee. Coffee’s good.”

  “Coffee’s good,” Stone agreed. “Since everyone is so worried about Davidson, we should probably get him warmed up.”

  “Hypothermia is always a possibility,” Nate said good-naturedly. “Or I could have been incinerated by lightning. Did you know Colorado ranks third, nationally, in lightning fatalities? Leading state in the West.”

  “You have no idea what a relief it is to know that I have two weather reporters in my house.”

  “Happy to help,” Nate said.

  “Since you’re here, you might as well change into dry clothes.”

  “You mean I finally have the chance to get in your pants?”

  “Forget coffee,” Kayla said. “I think I’ll open a bottle of wine.”

  Nate grinned. “Pour me a glass?” Then to his reluctant host, asked, “Mind if I shower?”

  “Make yourself at home.”

  The words were grudging and had more than a little bite of sarcasm. But Nate’d gotten what he wanted. He was here, and Stone had kissed him hard. The taste of the fine Irish whiskey Stone had been drinking now lingered on Nate’s tongue.

  Whistling, he grabbed a green apple from the fruit bowl -- compliments of Kayla and not Stone, he was sure. He grinned and then headed down the hallway. And not toward the guest bathroom. Nope. He was going straight for the master suite. Nate was already in trouble. Might as well see how far he could actually push it.

  Stone’s bedroom was exactly like the man himself. Rigid. Nothing out of place. The dresser had nothing on its top. From past experience, Nate knew he’d find a loaded pistol, along with car keys and a wallet in the top drawer of the nightstand. The top drawer of his bureau would have his three sterling silver Navajo bracelets, one a family heirloom.

  In Stone’s closet, all his shirts were separated, long sleeved on one side, short sleeved on the other. They were subdivided by a dazzling array of color. Black and khaki. Oh, and there was one white shirt for those times that were more formal, and he needed something to go under his tailored suit or the lone sports coat. He ha
d exactly two ties to choose from.

  Blue jeans were stacked on a shelf. Workout shorts and swim trunks were folded with military precision on another. Everything was black, including the sneakers.

  Imaginative.

  After helping himself to a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt, he took a bite out of the crisp sour apple and put his own gun on the dresser top. He ignored the laundry hamper and dropped his wet clothes right in the middle of the bedroom floor.

  He took his time in the oversized shower with the classy glass enclosure, appreciating the Navajo designs etched in the glass. Coming to Stone’s place was better than any hotel Nate had ever stayed in. Nothing was overstated. Everything was elegant. Tiled floor with radiant heat, granite countertops… Only the best for Wolf Stone.

  Nate set the showerhead for a gentle spray, turning it from the “invigorating” pulse Stone had it set for.

  The bar of soap sitting in the dish was totally masculine, with a spicy, outdoorsy scent. Nate normally went for something a little more subtle. Something that smelled clean, maybe like a rainstorm.

  Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  He soaped.

  He whistled.

  He shampooed.

  He stalled.

  He soaped again.

  He waited.

  “You know where the guest room is.”

  Score.

  Nate turned to face the water, letting it rinse the soap from his face.

  “And the hamper.”

  He knew Stone could see him clearly through the glass door. So he took time lathering his balls, making sure to wash them thoroughly, then he drew upward on his cock.

  “You’re pushing your luck, Davidson. I’ll put you back out in the weather so fucking fast --”

  “Stone?” Nate turned off the faucet and pulled open the door. “Shut up.”

  Stone’s jaw slackened.

  Nate knew he’d pay for the comment later, so he enjoyed the hell out of the shocked moment while it lasted. “Forgot to grab a towel.”

  Stone snatched a white towel from a well-organized basket and tossed it at Nate.

  “Thanks.” Instead of wrapping it around his waist, he dried his face and hair, ignoring the rest of his body.

  Stone stood there, not moving.

  Even when they were apart, Nate fantasized about having Stone’s cock up his ass. It didn’t matter who he was with, where he found his release, it was Stone he thought of, Stone he wanted.

  Now that they were together, Nate wouldn’t be put off again.

  He wanted Stone; Stone wanted him. Could the math get any simpler?

  From their past experience, he knew the Alpha male wouldn’t be gentle when it happened. Stone would take him the way he wanted to be taken, hard and fast, possessively.

  He just wanted it to happen sooner, not later.

  Stone didn’t leave the bathroom, and tension grew taut and stretched. Nate did nothing to defuse it.

  “Why did you volunteer?”

  “You’re a stubborn man, Stone. Hawkeye thinks you need backup. And you refused his offer of help. So a few of us are using our personal time.”

  “Waste of vacation hours, if you ask me.”

  “We didn’t. I didn’t. None of us considered it a waste of our time. You’d do the same for any one of us.” And had, on many occasions. “You’re not stupid. You know the threat is very real.”

  “It won’t happen here.”

  “It could.”

  “They want me on their turf.”

  And it went without saying that Stone would take the battle to them. When he did, Nate would be at his side. He’d defend this man to the death.

  “You disobeyed a direct order to leave the premises.”

  “Yeah,” Nick agreed. Even though the air in the bathroom was cooling, his cock stayed hard. He was so aroused he could jump from his skin.

  “I don’t take that lightly.”

  Under Stone’s penetrating gaze, Nate lowered his own eyes. It wasn’t in apology. It was in stark recognition of the other man’s authority.

  Before he knew what was happening, Stone had acted.

  The towel was dropped. Stone spun Nate, wrenching his arm up his back. “Fuck,” he gasped.

  Stone moved in closer, slamming Nate’s pelvis into the counter and trapping him against the cabinets.

  Nate struggled, but it didn’t matter. Stone subdued him effortlessly, as if he were a rank amateur instead of a trained professional. An unsubtle reminder of who was boss.

  Nate breathed deep, and after a few seconds, Stone eased his grip.

  “Still think I can’t take care of myself?”

  “Never said you couldn’t,” Nate said. “Just here to watch your back.” He met the larger man’s eyes in the mirror.

  Stone’s hair was mussed, and the contrast of their skin tones was mesmerizing.

  He was totally aware of the scratch of denim and the hardness of Stone’s cock pressing against him. God, he wanted him. Wanted him so bad.

  “Spread your legs.”

  He could have died on the spot.

  As best as he could, trapped as he was, he spread his legs. With his left hand, Stone reached around Nate and opened a drawer.

  Lube. And a condom.

  Nate’s eyes closed.

  “Look at me,” Stone commanded. “I want to see exactly what you’re thinking.”

  Nate did as ordered, difficult as it was. He just wanted to surrender to the sensations. But Stone wanted him as an active participant.

  One-handed, Stone flipped the top and squirted a dollop onto the countertop.

  Even above the sound of his own ragged breathing, Nate heard Stone’s zipper. The other man eased back a bit, probably to lower his jeans.

  “What do you want?” Stone asked.

  “You.” Nate’s arm was wrenched a bit higher. “Your cock,” he clarified around a gasp.

  Stone used his left hand and his teeth to rip open the condom’s wrapper.

  Could this take any longer? His patience was fried. He didn’t intend to wait another five stinking minutes.

  Stone pulled back a bit to put on the condom.

  “I’m clean,” Nate said.

  “So am I. But we’ll do it my way until we have the chance to talk.” Stone then scooped some of the lube from the granite.

  Nick tensed when the cool gel was smeared on his anus. “Give me your finger!”

  Stone did.

  Nick gasped at the sudden intrusion.

  Christ.

  Stone stretched him, moistened him, shoved deep inside. He rose onto his toes as Stone dominated him.

  Then he felt Stone’s cockhead against the barely stretched opening. Even though he’d been lubed and prepped, he wasn’t totally ready for someone as big, as rigid, as Stone. “It’s been a long time for me,” Nick said, by way of plea.

  “You should have thought about that before you goaded me.”

  Stone bit his ear.

  Nick screamed out and arched his back.

  Stone drove his cock home.

  Nick was stretched, invaded, hurting.

  This was about punishment, Nick knew. But it was about a whole lot more, as well. This was the pent-up frustration and denial.

  Stone found his own rhythm, deep, slamming against Nick’s prostate. He’d never felt anything this overwhelming. He was consumed with it, by it. So close…so close to his own orgasm.

  “Don’t even think of touching your cock.”

  He’d been thinking of exactly that. But now, forbidden even that courtesy, he simply surrendered to Stone’s punishing thrusts.

  Stone clamped down on Nate’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh. With a grunt, he came. The feeling of his Dom coming inside him made Nate shudder. There was nothing he wanted more.

  And even though Nate had been denied his own orgasm, he was totally satisfied.

  Their gazes collided in the mirror again.

  Nate saw th
e same raw desire in the Alpha male’s eyes that he knew was reflected in his own.

  This wasn’t just a one-time thing.

  And he was grateful.

  Deliberately, no motion wasted, Stone untangled their bodies. He started by releasing his grip on Nate’s shoulder, then his arm. Finally, Stone eased his cock from Nate’s hole.

  “Your cock still hard?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Stone reached around and felt for himself.

  Blood flooded Nate’s entire body where circulation returned. And his penis was full-length, turgid. He moaned when Stone stroked him. “Yes!” God, what would it be like to have a hand job from this Alpha? “Stone…”

  “You going to come?”

  “I…” His head tipped back. “Yes.”

  Stone stopped his motions. “Get dressed and meet us in the great room.”

  Nate sagged, catching himself against the counter. “Finish me off!”

  “Get dressed,” he repeated.

  “Bastard.”

  “If you jerk off, I’ll know.”

  He would, too.

  “And if you do, your punishment will mean you don’t get my cock. Understand?”

  He nodded.

  The bedroom door slammed behind Stone.

  Nate’d finally gotten what he wanted. The man he desired above all others had taken him, used him like he had before, rode him, punished him. It was exactly what he needed.

  After such a long absence, one taste simply wasn’t enough.

  Damn. Damn. And fuck it all.

  He crossed to Stone’s bed and snatched up the jeans he’d selected.

  Even though he could ejaculate in under a dozen strokes, he knew the same thing that Stone knew. Because Stone had issued a direct order, Nate wouldn’t touch himself.

  * * * * *

  Stark. Raving. Mad.

  Kayla was jumping out of her skin.

  She’d do anything to know what the two men were up to in the bedroom. But Stone, damn him, had shut the door behind him.

  That hadn’t stopped her from listening, though.

  Which had only whetted her appetite.

  She considered herself a progressive type of person. In fact, some of her friends, female as well as male, were gay. But she hadn’t ever given much thought to what they actually did when the lights went out.

  Until now.

  The image of Stone with his cock up Nate’s ass made her pussy moist. But how the hell was she supposed to ask if she could watch them the next time they did the nasty?

 

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