by Victoria Sue
There had been. A boy and his stupid dog. The dog’s paw had gotten torn to shreds on some glass, and it was still trying to limp after the little boy. They all had strips of cloth that they used to shield their eyes and mouths from the dust and sand. The grit that would mix with the relentless heat and grind into your skin until you felt like it was burning. Like one more second and the dust would reach your heart.
For a lot of people, it already had.
When Gray saw the dog, he picked out the glass and used his cloths to bind the dog’s paw. The little boy had been petrified of Gray. The dog was in so much pain and had bitten him, but he had ignored it calmly and just tried to keep away from its teeth. He’d have to get the additional shots, but it was no big deal.
The boy and the dog had kept appearing for most of that day when they patrolled the village and then the following morning while they looked for a group he was sure was responsible for hoarding explosives. They were systematically going from building to building, and as Gray approached one of the doors he heard a bark and noticed the boy and the dog stood down the street, watching them. Something bothered Gray, and he had stopped Senko as he was about to open the door, and called his men to him. Ten seconds later the building exploded, and they were all thrown by the blast, dazed, but very much alive. If Gray hadn’t paused because of the dog’s bark, they would all be very much dead.
He never saw the boy or his dog again. He got the message about his mom when they returned to camp.
“You felt guilty because you missed that Dad had been drinking.” Pink shook her head. “I was here. I was less than three hours’ drive away, and I didn’t know. I was full of being the perfect wife and hoping to be the perfect mom. I don’t think losing Mom had even fully hit me, but I was here. I was so wrapped up in my own life I didn’t know Dad was drinking himself to death.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “What sort of daughter does that make me?” she whispered.
“He hid it,” Gray rasped, struggling to keep his own tears at bay. “I stayed for a month when I got back, and we only had the occasional beer. I thought it was grief that made him jittery. He seemed to be holding it together better than I did.” They’d found the house nearly full of empty vodka bottles when he’d died.
“He got fired for drinking, but even then, we thought it had been maybe a onetime thing until the PM and they told me his body showed he had been drinking a long time.” Pink was holding Gray so tight, but she looked at them both. “I refuse to lose anyone else.”
Rawlings swallowed heavily. “I’ve let Gray carry this around, and it’s bullshit. It was my fault Aubrey died, but—”
“No,” Pink insisted. “It wasn’t, and”—she looked at Gray—“it wasn’t yours either. Good men die all the time. The fault lies with the men who pulled the trigger.” Gray watched as another tear rolled down her face and she made no attempt to brush it away. “Aubrey loved you both. Let him rest, now. I want Tabitha learning about her daddy from men who loved him, not from men who can’t stand to talk about him because they are constantly blaming themselves he isn’t here.”
Gray took a deep breath, a fresh wave of guilt rolling over him. Had he done that? Was his avoidance of them letting Aubrey’s memory die? Pink squeezed his hand and let it go. Rawlings gently drew his wife close. Gray took another breath and stood. Pink was right, and he had been very wrong. He’d missed Tabitha growing until he was a stranger to her. He owed his sister more than that. He owed Aubrey more than that.
“Gray?” Pink lifted a tear-stained face to his, and he took a healing breath, feeling something shift and settle inside him. She was right. He nodded at her in determination and there and then made the decision to not let Aubrey’s memory die for his daughter. He opened his mouth to tell her, but Pink was tucked into her husband’s arms, as it should be.
Pink and Rawlings were turned in toward each other and that—more than anything—felt so right Gray couldn’t help the smile that no one saw. Quietly he let himself out of the room and walked toward the stairs. Each step he took felt lighter than the last. He would just check on Seb and then try to get some sleep.
Gray walked into his room and looked around, impressed. He’d never stayed here and had never been farther than the study, even before Rawlings and Pink had married. He blinked, yawning, and strode to the connecting door before he turned on any lights that might disturb Seb. He could tell by the faint light as he opened it that Seb had left his customary lamp on. He knew Seb had certain rituals to make himself feel safe, and this was one of them.
Seb sat up as Gray walked in. “I’m sorry,” Gray said. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.” He glanced at the nightstand and immediately approved of the half-empty bottle of water. Seb smiled and moved sideways on the bed in an open invitation for Gray to sit down. And unbelievably Gray took a step forward as if he was going to, before he stopped. Seb sighed a little as he registered the movement and rubbed his head.
“I wasn’t asleep. I’m weird about sleeping in strange places.”
Gray scanned his features, noting the dark shadows under his eyes. “Headache?”
Seb shook his head. “No, just….” He sighed and shrugged. It was on the tip of Gray’s tongue to offer a head massage, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t trust himself enough. It would take absolutely no encouragement for Gray to cross a line he wasn’t willing to, and the kiss in the car had been hard enough to draw back from. Seb turned suddenly to the windows as if he had heard a noise. Gray followed his line of sight but the drapes were drawn, and he recognized the jumpy behavior from someone who had too many bad memories. Seb lay down and turned away from Gray. “I’m fine. Good night.”
Gray was torn. Seb was clearly not fine. He looked around the room. There was a couch at the far end he could sleep on, but if it would make Seb feel safe enough, he would sleep on the floor. It wouldn’t exactly be a first time.
Making a quick decision, he stepped back into his own room, used the bathroom, and gathered a throw and a pillow from the bed that he then carried back into Seb’s room. He heard the sigh from Seb and knew with Seb turned away from him, he hadn’t seen Gray come back. Gray paused. The sigh had been unhappy, a deep abandoned noise that came from someone who sounded lost. Seb moved his arm slightly, and Gray took another step so Seb could see him, and then all notion of lines and staying on different sides of them vanished.
Seb had his eyes closed and his fist pressed against his mouth. His hunched shoulders shook a little, and he curled himself inward before swallowing and taking a shaky breath.
Gray’s throat hurt with the realization that Seb had been as brave as he could be. His hard-fought-for security had failed. Thrown him to people who hadn’t been able to protect him in a situation not of his making or choosing, and he had still stepped up and foiled his kidnappers.
And what was Gray doing? He had already failed him once today. Was he really going to do it again because he was scared he didn’t have the self-control he should have? Shame burned through Gray, and he took a couple of steps to the bed and gently sat down, watching for Seb’s reaction. His eyes flew open, and for a couple of seconds, he stared at Gray in complete disbelief.
“What are you doing?”
Gray gazed down at him. “You can’t sleep.” He watched the nervous swallow chase the length of Seb’s slim throat.
“I’m too wired.”
Gray didn’t argue, but he knew the nervous laugh was covering a lie. He could just rest with him while Seb went to sleep. Make him feel safe. It was his job. Ignoring everything that told him this was a bad idea, Gray moved closer. “How about I just lie down behind you until you go to sleep?”
The instant relief that flashed across Seb’s face suddenly turned to brittle anger as it registered in his green eyes. “I’m not a child.” He rolled back over away from Gray and closed them.
Gray’s arm shot out and clasped Seb’s wrist, then tugged lightly until his eyes opened. “I never said you were. It’s the fact
that my body is treating yours as anything but, that is telling me this is a bad idea.”
“Why?” Seb asked baldly.
Gray didn’t pretend not to know exactly what he meant. “You’re a client.” Gray watched those green eyes deepen. Seb was so much more than a client, not least a vulnerable twenty-year-old who Gray needed to keep his hands and his traitorous body far away from.
“Then make me feel safe.” The words were lightly spoken, but their meaning settled heavily around the room. The dresser, the nightstands, the chair where Seb had casually thrown his jeans. Even the bed seemed littered with them, weighing him down. “I know you won’t stay.”
Gray’s eyes narrowed on Seb’s face, and Seb rolled over onto his back and lifted the cover. “Please.”
All the reasons why Gray couldn’t rushed through his head like a litany of orders Sarge would be proud of, but his body obeyed none of them. His legs moved of their own accord and stood. His arms reached and pulled his shirt up and over and then shucked his jeans down where his traitorous feet stepped out of them. He slid under the cover, seeking Seb’s warmth, and Seb shook out a small breath and cautiously scooted back, seeming unsure of his welcome. He was shaking. Nerves, reaction, fear?
Fuck. Gray leaned over and planted his arm across Seb’s chest and pulled him in tight. Seb clasped Gray’s arm and hung on. “Go to sleep.”
Gray felt Seb nod obediently—even though Seb wasn’t obeying the words he couldn’t hear but the unspoken order in Gray’s actions. He still held himself ramrod stiff. In a second Gray knew his body’s own reaction to Seb’s would be obvious, and he wouldn’t be shaking with fear. Need possibly, but he wasn’t scared. He took an automatic deep breath to relax himself and Seb. Exaggerated the rise and fall of his body and blew out the stress between his lips. He counted the heartbeats and breathed again. And another. Seb yawned. Every cell in Gray ached to follow up the kiss they had shared, but this was more important. He was needed in a completely new way now. His skills had been vital so many times. He fought hard for his friends, his buddies, the people who depended on him, either those he was paid to care for or those he had signed on to protect.
Seb was different, so very different. Gray would protect him with his body, most definitely, yes. No one would harm so much as a hair on his head while Gray had the breath in him to stop it.
He just needed to work out how to shield his own heart.
Chapter Seventeen
THE SURPRISING knowledge that they must have both fallen asleep was the first thought that struck Seb, oddly before he was awake enough to realize the position they were in. He had reacted to Gray like a heat-seeking missile. Seb had woken twice in the night. Once when Gray got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, and the second time to obey the urgent call of his own bladder. Both times he went back to sleep with Gray studiously rolled away from him, and for the third time now, he had woken up a breathless tangle of limbs. It definitely wasn’t his arm that was curved protectively across his back. Gray also seemed completely unaware Seb was using him as a pillow.
His lips twitched at the incongruity, and just for a second he allowed himself the dream of waking every morning like this. Seb’s breath hitched as his fingers moved through the black hair on Gray’s chest. With barely another thought, he continued to leisurely trail his hand down until he felt the dip where Gray’s rib cage ended and his abdomen began. The hair wasn’t wiry as Seb had imagined, but baby soft as he let it brush over his fingers. His fingers grew daring in their exploration and—
Seb jumped as Gray’s hand clamped over his and forced his fingers to still.
He didn’t want to lift his gaze to see Gray tell him to stop, tell him he was stupid, tell him he was a client, tell him he was too young or Gray was too old, or it was the Chinese year of the fox and people couldn’t fall in love with their bodyguards for another full moon cycle.
Seb jerked a fraction of a second too late as Gray’s imagined words settled to explain the reaction on Gray’s hand trapping his own. He didn’t breathe. Didn’t want to breathe, and mostly when he felt the questing touch of Gray’s palm on his chin to lift it, didn’t want to see the rejection—kind as he knew it would be—in the deep colorful eyes that would be staring knowingly into his soul. Reading a reaction and a ridiculous admission that Seb had no business making, because he knew it would send Gray further away from him faster than any warped sense of responsibility or overprotective decision of what was right and what was wrong according to the almighty Gray. He also needed to keep the admission to himself for a few self-indulgent minutes before he let the thought go. For precious moments he could pretend.
“Seb.” He didn’t hear the word but felt the breath that made it, the lift and rumble of Gray’s chest as oxygen from his lungs helped to produce the sound it created or watch the unique way Gray’s full lips moved to form the letters. But it was a demand all the same, and reluctantly and with a certain finality, he lifted his gaze.
He waited as his eyes settled on Gray’s. He’d been right, he thought with no sense of satisfaction, that he would see kindness there. As he searched the brown and amber-green hue that stared back at him, he blinked and checked again because the one thing he expected to see was missing. Caution, wonder, and guilt were all present.
But not regret.
There was no regret for something Seb wanted. That Gray couldn’t give Seb what he wanted, at least, and that more than anything gave him a little hope and a whole lot of determination. He stretched his neck until they were breathing the same air, and still Gray didn’t move or, more importantly, didn’t move him. Seb just waited, silently, for Gray to get closer, and when he did, when the featherlight lips settled over his before he made the final move, he relaxed. All his life he had felt wrong. Wrong in his body. His home wasn’t the safe space he needed. His own body let him down time and time again. But here, with Gray, he didn’t need anything else, and he could just be.
He must have made a noise as Gray’s tongue slid between his lips, because he felt it. The tremors in his hands and arms as they clutched at the hard body he was lying on. The kiss that seemed to go on and on. The hurried puffs of breath that told him Gray was whispering something to him. He imagined the small sounds of need echoing from Gray as he pressed his hard length into Seb’s thigh, and Seb widened his legs a little as Gray pulled him up his chest so his cock was scraping on Gray’s hard groin. His fingers fumbled at Gray’s shorts, desperation and giddy excitement making him clumsy until larger fingers took over and Gray pushed them down. His own shorts followed barely moments later, and then he blinked and he was on his back. Gray leaned over him. He lifted his head, chasing Gray’s lips, but Gray put his finger across Seb’s.
Seb whined and ground his hips a little in a silent begging motion. Gray chuckled. “Listen to me first.”
Seb nodded quickly. Anything. So long as everything else followed, he was good.
“I have nothing to offer you. I’m not a good person or boyfriend material or any other thought probably racing around your head. All I can offer you is the protection of my body for a short time.”
Seb was proud he didn’t flinch, but it was only because Gray was saying exactly what he had expected him to that he wasn’t surprised. “I know.” And he did. It didn’t change how he felt, though, and he wouldn’t swap what he intended to happen for the world. No matter how much it might hurt after.
“I will have to move on to protecting someone else as soon as you are safe.”
“I know,” Seb repeated, keeping his eyes fixed on him. He knew any hesitation and it would be all over. He had one shot at convincing Gray he understood. He didn’t want Gray to be his bodyguard. He wanted so much more.
“I haven’t got any supplies.”
Seb blinked. What? Gray’s lips quirked, and Seb chuckled. “My wallet.” He pointed to where his jeans were, draped over the chair, and Seb caught the raised brow before Gray jumped off him and retrieved the packets from his wallet.
“I’m impressed you’re prepared,” Gray said in a seeming offhand way, but Seb couldn’t be sure if he intended it in another. His face was too blank to give a clue to any nuances the words might carry. The differences between agreement and sarcasm were often only apparent in a wry twist of lips or an equally deadpan expression. He had to take words at face value when sometimes body language told you the meaning was often completely different. In a way Seb was relieved. It was hardly the time to tell Gray of his previous experience. No long-term commitment meant Seb didn’t have to explain his woeful lack of experience either.
In no time Seb was reveling in the warm hard body pressed alongside him once more, and drowning in the hot languorous kisses. He was faintly shocked. He’d have expected anything with Gray to be hot, fast, and furious. He was half amazed he wasn’t being pinned up against a wall or bent over the dresser. It was odd. His previous times had always seemed faintly forbidden, dirty even. Rushed. Secret. Hidden.
Gray was peeling back every layer on him like he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t being railroaded; he was being coaxed, gentled, lulled. Each kiss became another and another until his lips fairly danced with Gray’s and he lost track of whose hands were whose.
He emerged for a few blissful seconds as Gray fiddled with something—the condom—and he was gently eased onto his back. He opened his eyes and took a sharp breath. Gray paused as he leaned over and waited until Seb was focused on him. He smiled and ran a finger gently along Seb’s jaw. They hadn’t had any conversation about topping or otherwise. In a way it wasn’t necessary because Gray had been so slow and gentle, Seb had every chance to stop what he knew was going to happen.
“I would ask you if you want to stay on your back, but even if it might be easier if you turn around, I want you to be aware of every sound I make.”
Seb swallowed hard against the sudden burn in his throat. Aware of every sound. Gray wanted to watch him. Know he was giving him pleasure, be a part of it. Seb had gotten off before, but trapped in a silent world and facing only bed linen and pillows, he had felt almost cut off from the experience. Trust Gray to think of that.
