“Try,” Alex coaxed, moving closer. “Try and close your eyes. I’ll keep watch.”
“Don’t let me dream,” he begged, the words falling bitter from his tongue.
“I won’t,” Alex promised him, and then the soldier was there easing him back down onto the bed, pulling off his shoes and jeans before tucking him beneath the covers. He gripped at Alex’s shirt, refusing to release him for one second so the man was forced to lay on the bed with him.
It was only when Alex slipped beneath the blankets wearing only a t-shirt and briefs, with the man’s solid arms holding him tightly, that Micah let the tears slide along his temples. Alex kissed each trickle away. He had no right, but he stayed like that in the safety of the man’s arms.
He sank against the soldier until he drifted to sleep.
A soft sound awoke him and he lay perfectly still. It took only a second to realize Alex was still holding him safe. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with and had missed over the past year. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t resist and lifted up on his side and he dipped his head. Lifting Alex’s shirt, he trailed his lips along the man’s rippling abs. The muscles bunched and jumped beneath his mouth and tongue.
“Micah?” Alex’s rough sleep-filled voice sent a shiver down his spine.
“Alex,” he breathed, lifting his head and touching his mouth to Alex’s.
He should have known one taste would never be enough. Lips brushed, tongues entwined, and his teeth nipped until Alex sank his fingers into his hair to keep him still.
“I want you,” Alex rasped against his mouth and then drew back to brush a thumb against his bottom lip.
“Yes,” Micah hissed, pulling off his shirt and kicking out of his briefs. He yanked at Alex’s remaining clothes until only bare skin lay between them. Micah dipped his head and drew his lips and mouth over Alex’s chest until the man’s hand fisted his hair. His lips closed over one nipple and he drew it into his mouth, toying with it while his other hand pinched the opposite nub. The man hissed and groaned beneath his mouth. He slipped one leg between Alex’s, bringing his thigh up against the man’s groin. Grinding against Alex, their lengths rubbed, sending his hips grinding and thrusting.
Alex tugged on his hair and he lifted his head, taking several deep breaths. Alex drew him upward and took his mouth in a slow, heated kiss. The man answered his groan.
The room suddenly tilted as he was flipped to his back and Alex loomed over him. Reaching up and brushing the hair back from his face, Micah smiled up into Alex’s face and then stretched his arms over his head, palms upward, his legs parted, and he lowered his gaze to lock on Alex’s mouth.
The soldier’s breath came in a heated rush, skating over his skin before Alex kissed his way down from his jaw, neck, chest and abdomen. Micah arched beneath the man’s mouth and then gasped when Alex took his length to the root. The wet, slick heat of the man’s mouth closed over his dick and sucked hard. Micah’s head pressed against the pillow and his back bowed from the bed, fingers gripping tightly to corded shoulders.
“Alex,” he moaned, his grip released and his fingers ghosted over the skin at the man’s neck and shoulders, trying to reach and stroke whatever he could touch as his hips lurched upward into the wet heat.
“Ahhh fuck…” He grew close to cumming, and not wanting it to end yet, he fisted his hands into the man’s dark hair and tugged. He drew Alex’s head upward until their mouths met. He tasted himself on Alex’s tongue. For several long moments, they kissed long and slow until Alex yanked his head back, breaking the kiss and panting for breath. Micah gasped in his own panting breath.
“Make love to me,” he urged through his own panting breath and licked the taste of Alex from his lips. He lifted his mouth and roamed his lips over the skin along the underside of Alex’s jaw. Forcing the man’s head back, he tongued the large vein along his neck. When Alex moaned, he drew back and held his gaze.
The soldier’s gunmetal colored eyes glittered in the dim light. Micah patted around the small bedside table next to him, found the drawer handle, yanked open the drawer, and retrieved condoms and lube. Alex’s heated gaze moved from his face to the packets.
Within seconds, the man’s fingers were coated with slick and ghosting between his legs and across the sensitive skin of his entrance.
“Micah,” Alex whispered, and it was the sweetest sound. His lips were kissed as one thick finger breached his channel and sank deep.
“Oh fuuuuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back and forth on the bed, sweat gathered at his temples and he fisted the bed when Alex sank another finger into him. “Oh yessss. It’s been so fucking long.”
Alex paused for a beat and then stretched him with two fingers. The man’s head dipped and lips roamed over his chest, nipples, and eventually his throat. Micah tipped his head back, offering up every inch of skin that Alex wanted. Fingers withdrew and Alex tore open a packet and sheathed his dick. Micah groaned impatiently, but then Alex was there lifting his legs and pressing his thick cock past the tight ring of resistance.
“Don’t go slow,” Micah panted.
Alex
He dipped his head and fused his mouth to Micah’s as he sank down into the man’s arms and body. It was heaven. A paradise he’d been to countless times before and every fucking time it took his breath away. He buried his face in Micah’s neck and kissed the line up the man’s throat before he took Micah’s swollen lips in another deep, bone crushing kiss. Then he tenderly trailed his mouth along the thin silver lines that ran down the hunter’s throat and each scar on the man’s chest. Micah gasped beneath his mouth and Alex lifted his head to stare into his lover’s eyes.
There were no words, only emotion, and he closed his eyes as his body was once again caught up in the sweet fire that was Micah. He moved and Micah wrapped those long legs around his hips and Alex used his arms to keep his body up so he could gaze down at Micah and watch the man’s beautiful face.
Micah’s head tossed, lips parted as he panted and fists clenched into the sheet. He dropped his head and growled against the man’s cheek.
“Reach down and stroke yourself,” he grated the words out. Micah groaned but did as he said. The man’s long fingers gripped his beautiful cock and stroked in time with each of his thrusts. He lifted his head to glance down and the sight was his undoing. Shudders raced up his spine and he sucked in a breath.
“Nnnnh fuck…”
“I’m going to cum,” Micah panted. The man’s long and drawn out groan was the sexiest fucking thing. White ropes of cum flew from Micah’s cock just as his words finished.
He slammed home, his orgasm thundering through him. The pleasure punched his gut so hard, he curled over Micah and convulsed, shooting his release hot and hard into the condom. He shuddered and gasped, just barely holding himself up, until Micah yanked him down into his arms. He lay sprawled over Micah for several more minutes before sliding off and to the man’s side. He dipped his head and took several more lingering kisses.
After some time, Alex made his way to the bathroom and returned with a cloth. He cleaned them up and then tucked them back beneath the blankets.
Micah curled into him and Alex reached up to brush the sweat soaked hair from the man’s forehead and neck. He arranged the long strands back over one shoulder. Their eyes met, gazes locked, and then Micah smiled. Alex let out a quiet breath and sank into the softness of the pillow. The last thing he heard before he slept was Micah’s soft breathing.
He rolled in bed and came up against a warm body. The clock boasted that only a few hours had passed and it was approaching late afternoon. He smiled before opening his eyes and gazing at the man sleeping by his side.
The love of his life.
He’d known it the moment he’d caught sight of the beautiful young man gazing at him from across the medal ceremony.
He’d lost his mind on that fateful day when he’d thought he was going to lose Micah forever and he’d killed everyone
who had stood between him and his love.
Micah had been medically discharged. Alex had stupidly signed up for another tour of duty.
Just after he returned home from the service, he’d asked Micah to move in with him. Several weeks later, he surprised Micah by inviting him over for dinner.
“This is close to your mom’s house. Who lives here?” Micah asked, slipping off his jacket and turning toward him with a smile on his face and a light in his eyes Alex would never get tired of seeing.
“Us, if you like it.”
Micah’s smile had grown until it had taken over his whole face and the younger man had launched into his arms. Dinner had been late.
They’d spent the next two years making the house a home. They’d loved, fought, worked, played, and forged out a life. Micah had worked for Phoenix and Alex had picked up mercenary work where he could. They’d made it work.
He’d been there the day Micah had gotten the call from his uncle about Caleb.
Micah flipped on the speaker phone at his curious look and placed it on the table between them.
“Caleb is being kicked out of school again. I’m at my wits ends,” Micah’s uncle was saying.
“What happened?” Micah frowned.
“He’s gotten increasingly out of hand over the past five years. It started when you moved out.”
That had been when Micah had joined Phoenix. Caleb would have been twelve at the time.
Micah’s uncle sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought he’d snap out of it, but now he’s running away and I fear he’s getting into trouble.”
“I’ll come get him,” Micah said, holding Alex’s gaze.
“Micah, I’m sorry. He’s become too much to handle and with our own kids…We just can’t do this anymore.” The man’s voice trailed off.
“It’s okay, I’ll take care of him.”
Micah held his gaze long after the call ended. Alex drew his love close.
“Let’s go get him,” he told Micah.
The next day, they’d flown out to collect Caleb. The surprise on the seventeen year old’s face had been overcast with tears as he launched himself into Micah’s arms.
They’d moved Caleb into the second bedroom. They became a family over the next year, just the three of them. Like the “Three Musketeers” as Caleb liked to say.
Sure, they had rough patches because of his stubbornness and desire to control everything. Micah tended to be a bit on the stubborn and untrusting side, but with a crystal meth mother who had brought home a string of lovers, who could blame the guy? And Caleb, while sweet and kind, could be a smart mouth and hardheaded. Regardless of all that, they’d grown stronger as a family, making adjustments and making it work.
The bed shifted and he gazed down at the man looking up at him.
“Whatcha thinking?” Micah placed his chin on his chest.
Alex shook his head.
“What?” Micah edged closer.
Alex lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on the man’s lips.
Micah
The room was dark when he woke. A quick glance showed the time was approaching six in the evening, yet he stayed there. With his eyes half closed, he could imagine he was back in time in another place waiting for the sound of laughter and Alex’s low chuckle as Caleb chattered away about anything and everything.
Caleb was still out there, somewhere. Scared and who only knew in what condition. In the hands of a madman, fighting to stay alive with any wits he had, because Micah couldn’t picture Caleb giving up. He’d taught the boy how to fight at the age of twelve and they’d renewed their sparring when Caleb moved in, so he knew the extent of his brother’s will and determination. He almost wished he could picture the boy submitting, but Caleb was a fighter through and through.
Unable to continue lying still, he rolled to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. He rubbed his hands over his face and then left them there for a moment before glancing over. Alex slept face down in the pillow.
He rubbed at his forehead and dropped his hands to squeeze the edge of the mattress he was sitting on.
“Hey…” Alex said softly, rolling to his side.
Micah kept his eyes on the floor. If he looked at Alex, he’d crawl back into bed and the safety of the man’s arms. Alex slipped a hand up his back and shoulder.
Micah closed his eyes before moving away from the gentle touch. He didn’t need to look over to feel the hurt coming from Alex at his withdrawal.
“I won’t ask if you’re okay because you’re clearly not.” Alex sighed and rolled to his back on the bed.
Okay? No, he wasn’t fucking okay! He gave the man a dark look and scrambled up, hunting for his clothes.
“Micah…” Alex sighed. “Why don’t you take some time off?” The words were so softly spoken that for a moment, he thought he was hearing things. Then they registered and he jerked on his jeans and yanked a t-shirt over his head.
“Just because we fucked doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking for Caleb!” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.
Alex’s indrawn breath was quick and Micah’s fingers fumbled with his boots. He closed his eyes for a brief second, then shoved his feet into the boots and quickly tied the laces.
“That’s not what I meant,” Alex said quietly and rolled from the bed. The man pulled on his clothes quickly.
Micah shoved his fingers through his hair and then glanced at Alex. “Look,” he sighed, “I know you’re trying to help. But I can’t stop until I bring him home.” He fisted his hands.
“And if you never find him?” Alex’s voice came out harsh.
His head snapped back. The words stabbed and burned like acid in an open wound.
“Fuck you, Alex! Of all the people to give up, I never thought it would fucking be you!”
Alex
“Jesus, Micah.” He stared in disbelief.
The hateful words cut him deep. “I’m not giving up. Taking a break isn’t giving up,” he returned flatly.
“I just…” Micah’s voice shook, a hand lifted to cover his mouth. The hurt, confusion, and pain swirled in the man’s eyes as if he had the monopoly on pain and loss.
“God damn it!” he snapped, suddenly out of patience, the words coming out fast and raw. “Caleb was mine too!” His eyes burned.
Micah stared at him, tears pooling in his eyes. They stood only a few feet apart, but the distance could have been miles.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “We were a family.”
When Micah said nothing, Alex tore his eyes away.
Not sure how much more he could take, Alex shoved his emotions down, locked them firmly away, and began distancing himself. He reached for his much needed control, but it was a struggle. Without a word, he snatched up his wallet and keys and walked out the door.
Some may have called it cowardice, Alex called it self-preservation.
It took him fifteen minutes to reach Frost and Seth’s house on the beach. He sat in his newly purchased truck and looked at the front door until it suddenly opened and Seth stepped out onto the porch. The man stood waiting patiently for several long moments.
Alex took a breath and slid from behind the wheel.
“Come on in,” Seth said with a smile. “He’s in the gym downstairs.”
Alex stepped through the door and closed it behind him. The smell of food assaulted his nose.
“Bring him up when you find him,” Seth called out on his way out of the room.
He nodded and headed down the hall and down the stairs to the basement before he entered the small gym.
Frost, wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts, lay resting with his back on a bench. The bar Frost pressed up and down wasn’t heavy enough to require a spotter, but Alex could see it carried some weight.
Frost grunted, “Hey, man, be done in a minute.”
Slipping off his jacket, he toed off his shoes. Walking to the table in the corner, he lifted two strips of w
hite cloth and wrapped his knuckles before approaching the heavy, black punching bag hanging from a chain in the corner.
He fisted his hands and took a good punch at the black leather and then another. He bounced on this toes and then hit the bag again and again. He punched a one two shot. Then another, as hard as he could. He held his breath and punched so hard, pain shot up his arm. He hit it again and the pain shot deeper. Alex drew back and hit the bag repeatedly, over and over, until the rags slipped and broke the skin open at his knuckles. Ragged sounds filled the room and it took him a moment to realize they were coming from his own throat.
Frost was suddenly there with his hands clamped on his shoulders. Gripping him tightly, his friend held him as he struggled for control. He clung to the chain that anchored the bag to the ceiling. The room blurred and he gasped with deep, ragged breaths. He set his forehead against the leather, hands gripping its sides tightly.
He stayed like that, sucking in air until his breathing calmed. He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling.
Frost released him and he stood quietly while his friend unwrapped his hands and checked them over. They were red and a few knuckles were raw where the cloth had slipped.
After a moment, Frost quietly led the way back up the stairs and into the living room and over to a small bar. The man poured two fingers of scotch in two glasses and handed him one.
Alex gulped it down.
“What happened?” Frost filled his glass again.
“I asked Micah to take a break, he accused me of giving up looking for Caleb.” He sipped at the liquid this time. “What should have been a spat turned into an accusation that stung like hell. It escalated from there.” And the memory of every ugly thing they’d ever said to each other had come roaring back. That, on top of the bite of Micah’s words, and Alex had lost it. He looked down at his scraped knuckles.
“He’s hurting.”
“Yeah. But Jesus. Fuck, Frost, I loved that kid like he was my own. I’ll never stop searching.”
Destruction (Out for Justice Book 4) Page 14
