He nudged Dustin’s foot as soon as she was out of earshot. “See something you liked?”
“What?” Dustin looked genuinely baffled, but then his eyes widened. “Sorry. I’m an equally opportunity appreciator of cuteness, but I’ve got two decades of trying not to be obvious around guys and no idea how dudes flirt. With girls it just...comes out, but with guys, I’ve got no clue. I mean, I see my brother and my friends do it, but I open my mouth and... Fuck. I’m rambling.”
“It’s okay.” Wes actually found the rambling rather endearing. As much as he wanted to be the one putting Dustin at ease, he was happy to try to help the other man work through his nerves. “But you would flirt with a guy, if you could? Like who in here’s your type?”
“You.” Dustin coughed and looked away. “Fuck. That sounded flip and I didn’t mean—”
“I’m flattered.” Some of Wes’s jealousy over the waitress subsided. Maybe he could settle Dustin’s nerves and help him out for the future too. “Now, who else? I’m here to offer advice.”
“Okay...” Dustin’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. “Not too young. No one who reminds me of my brother. Not too short—no offense, but I’m a big guy. I like tall women too. Don’t like bending down too far to kiss. And I dig...you know...confidence.”
Wes did know exactly what Dustin meant, because he knew what turned Dustin on, rather intimately, and that knowledge made him need to shift about on the slick wood chair. “So a not-short, not-young, not-brotherly, toppy guy who isn’t too intimidating?”
Dustin nodded slowly, and Wes had to keep himself from grinning because he fit that bill perfectly.
“Okay. How about him?” Wes flicked his eyes in the direction of a guy to their left. A bit older than Wes, the guy had deep brown eyes and curly hair and an authoritative stare.
“Maybe.” Dustin shrugged. “But I don’t want you playing wingman for me. And it’s not like I’m going out back in S—home.”
Wes didn’t ask where he’d been about to say—there was a wire fence around the details that neither of them was about to share. And besides, he didn’t need to know exactly which marine installation Dustin was stationed at out west—there were a bunch of them out there. He only knew Dustin was Marines versus some other branch of service because of his Godzilla avatar, which had the giant lizard saying “Ooh-Rah.” So instead, he went for direct. “So what do you want?”
Of course, right then the waitress returned with their drinks and to take their burger orders. Dustin clearly had spent significant time with the West Coast foodies—getting his all fancy with avocado and bacon while Wes went classic like always.
“So?” Wes prompted after she’d left again. “You don’t want me to hook you up with someone, even hypothetically, but what would you like tonight? Burger and watch the game? Or...”
“Or?” Dustin sounded more curious than off-put, which was good.
“Or...and I’m just throwing this out there... I’ve got a hotel room close to here. We could go hang there after we eat. Just talk. And stuff.”
“Define stuff.” Dustin fiddled with his paper napkin, but he hadn’t said no. And he was cautious, which was a good thing, smart. Another trait all the marines Wes knew had—they were wary, always ready for the next threat.
“Talk. Like how we usually do on Saturday nights.” Wes raised his eyebrows and nodded, telegraphing that he knew perfectly well how those nights usually ended, both of them drenched in sweat and spunk, yawning goodnight into the phone.
Dustin hissed in a breath. “And you’d be good with that? Just our usual?”
“Oh trust me—” taking a risk, Wes leaned across the table, putting his lips against Dustin’s ear “—there’s nothing usual about what I want to do to you. And absolutely nothing boring about a live-action version of our regular game.”
He sat back down in time to watch Dustin’s eyes light up at the mention of game. Yeah, Wes knew how to get him going. And the equal measure of trepidation and anticipation in his eyes made Wes’s pulse speed up. He wanted this, far more than he was willing to let on.
“I...” Dustin glanced around again. “I’m not...”
“Shh. You don’t have to give me an answer yet. We can enjoy our food. And the game. Hopefully UVA loses spectacularly so I can gloat about that when I call home tomorrow, and my dad will be in a better mood.”
“Okay.” Dustin sighed, and Wes knew he wasn’t imagining the relief on his features. Darn it. “How’s your sister doing?”
Wes had told Dustin a little about Sam’s heart condition on a night a few months back when he was feeling particularly down. Dustin remembering how close he was to Sam made warmth spread through his chest. “She’s good. Always got to be on the lookout for infection though. Hopefully this year’s cold and flu season isn’t too rough. She made me a new playlist today. I’ll forward you the link.”
“More of that alternative-country?” Dustin made a face. They might share a taste in movies and TV, but in music they differed, almost comically so.
“Yup. Be glad you’re not riding back with me.” His insides gave a little twinge at the reminder that all he had with Dustin was this one night. And that’s why he needs to say yes. If all they had was tonight, then Wes was going to make it one they both remembered for a long, long time.
Chapter Three
Dustin wasn’t nervous. Just because Wes had put it out there that they could go back to his room didn’t mean they had to. Didn’t mean his pulse had to rev like a personnel carrier, all loud and roaring in his ears. Didn’t mean his fingers had to suddenly have nothing better to do than shred napkins. And it definitely didn’t mean he needed to keep up the idiotic rambling. Damn it, Strauss, remember who and what you are.
He attempted to focus on the game for a while, trying to calm himself. Their food arrived, big steaming platters of burgers and fries.
“Fries really are amazing,” Dustin said, spearing another. He’d asked for ranch with his fries, in part just to see Wes’s grimace.
“Yeah, but you’re ruining them.” Wes shook his head.
“Says the guy who loves cold pizza.” Dustin managed a laugh. Bantering like this was nice. Easier than focusing on what might come next.
“Leftovers are the shit. You haven’t lived until you’ve had my dad’s barbecue the next day with a can of cold Cheerwine.”
“That the North Carolina stuff with the vinegar sauce?” Dustin asked. Wes had dropped enough hints that he was from that area, and his accent would seem to back it up. His voice was the type that Dustin could listen to for hours—deep and sure with a Southern twang, but not overpowering. Soothing, almost.
“Yes, sir.” Wes graced him with another rare smile. Dustin dug how his accent got more pronounced when he talked about his family or got excited over something. “Takes all day out in Dad’s smoker. Best thing that ever happened to a pig. My family recipe is locked up tighter than the Pentagon. Reckon you’d like it even if you don’t dig vinegar.”
Dustin’s chest pinched. There wasn’t ever going to be a future where he met Wes’s family, got to try barbecue, got another chance at...
At what? Suddenly, making the most of their night seemed like the smartest move he could make. The universe wasn’t going to give him a second chance at Wes, at getting to live some of his fantasies. And he liked Wes, far more than he should, actually. He might be able to pick up another guy on Joe4Joe, but he could almost guarantee he wouldn’t be as cool as Wes.
“I dig you,” he blurted, not quite as flirty as he’d intended.
But Wes merely smiled indulgently. “Good.”
“This is still weird,” Dustin admitted. “Being here. In person. Not just typing.”
“If you trust me, I’ve got a plan to make it less weird.” Wes took a long sip of his beer.
Surprisingly, Dustin did. And there was that damn curiosity again, rearing its head. He was dying to know what Wes had in mind. “Okay.”
“Really?” That got Wes’s widest smile yet. “Good.”
Dustin nodded. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to one-nightstands—he’d had plenty in his younger days, especially when he was at the Academy and young females from area colleges were plentiful. Sometime in the past few years, hookups had lost their appeal, but he’d never had much time or inclination to go search out something more long-term. It was easier almost, taking care of things on his own, not dealing with interpersonal drama. That was what had led him to the chat apps—sharing pics and quick cyber was preferable to the bar scene, a way to jazz up his usual jerk-off routine without too much risk.
He hadn’t anticipated meeting someone like Wes though, someone who made him want that physical contact again. So yeah, he kinda wanted to see what Wes had in mind, let this play out for hopefully a hot memory before he went back to his solitary ways.
The air seemed to crackle as they finished their food, and he didn’t think he was imagining that Wes’s eating sped up. They split the check, then headed out into the crisp night air.
“My hotel is walking distance,” Wes said, gesturing down the street. “But how about we move the car into the hotel garage?”
We. Dustin kind of liked the sound of that. It was probably that Wes didn’t quite trust him not to bug out if he went back to the car alone, but it was nice, walking together. They passed a number of couples, men holding hands with each other, women pushing fancy strollers. Dustin had seen plenty of same-sex PDA between his friends and his brother, and it didn’t make him uncomfortable per se, but it always made him a bit...wistful. Like he knew that was never going to be him.
Part of him wanted to take Wes’s hand, just to see what he’d do, but the saner part of him, the more pragmatic part, jammed his hands deep in his pockets. “It’s chilly,” he said, reduced to commenting on the weather.
“Don’t worry.” Wes wiggled his eyebrows at Dustin. “I’ve got plans to warm you up.”
“That sounds promising.” There. See. He could flirt.
They reached the car, and Wes slipped into the passenger side. Right before Dustin pulled out, he reached over and patted his thigh. “Trust me, okay? We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do. And whatever you do want is fine.”
“I don’t know what I want.” Dustin managed an uneasy laugh.
“Then we’ll find out together.” Wes’s hand remained a calm, steadying presence on Dustin’s leg as he gave directions to the hotel garage entrance.
Trying hard not to shake like a sixteen-year-old on prom night, he followed Wes into the hotel—it was a chain place, nicer than some, but not super fancy or boutique. He hadn’t thought ahead to getting his own room in the city. Admitting that he wasn’t going back to Annapolis for the night had made his stomach churn so he’d told himself on the drive in that he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Out in the field, he always rolled with a plan, but he’d also made a name for himself improvising solutions, and in his personal life, a lot of times it was easier to deal with hurdles as they happened rather than invite new worries. God knew he had enough of those.
The hotel room was almost identical to the one near the Academy where he’d stayed last night—two beds with tastefully neutral floral spreads, beige carpeting, and large windows concealed by heavy curtains. A backpack lay on the edge of the far bed, and a plaid shirt was tossed over the back of the desk chair. The little signs that Wes had been in here earlier were vaguely reassuring.
To his surprise, Wes didn’t immediately come on to him, the way Dustin would have expected back in his one-nightstand days. He might be feeling totally out of his depth with Wes, but he knew how these things usually worked. However, Wes didn’t seem to be on any sort of agenda, heading over to sit next to his backpack and unlacing his boots.
“Sit,” he said to Dustin, pointing to the other bed. When Dustin hesitated, he added, gentler, “Told you, I’ve got a plan. Promise I’m not gonna jump you.”
“Not sure I’d object to that,” Dustin admitted, drawing in an uneven breath.
“Good.” Wes gave him a heated look. “We’ll get there. Now sit.”
Following the order was easy, and he imitated Wes, taking off his sneakers before he sat back on the bed, waiting to see what Wes had in mind. Wes flipped on the TV that was positioned in front of the two beds, scanning until he found one of those nature documentaries he always seemed to have on in the background when they chatted—
“You wanna pretend it’s Saturday night?” he asked, starting to catch on.
“It is Saturday night. And we’re both off.” Wes stretched out, back against the headboard. “And we’re usually good at finding things to occupy us.”
A part of Dustin was a bit disappointed that Wes wasn’t over here trying to kiss him like he’d expected him to, but another larger part of him was relieved. This was comfortable and familiar, and like always, he trusted Wes to drive the show.
“Yes we are.” He stayed sitting, but he could feel his muscles relaxing. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Close your eyes,” Wes ordered. “And tell me a fantasy or a story you haven’t before. Make it filthy enough and I’ll give you a reward.”
Oh, Wes had come to play. Dustin’s blood rushed south, cock pulsing. Wes knew exactly which words to choose to get him worked up. And he was right—especially with his eyes closed, this wasn’t that much different from voice chat, all the dozens of times he’d let Wes’s voice work its magic over him.
“I did have a fantasy the other night. After we got offline.”
“Yeah? Tell me.”
“You were sucking me. But you wouldn’t let me come.” Dustin’s voice came out closer to a whisper, as if the walls might judge his desires.
Wes’s answering laugh was a dirty, dirty thing and went a long way to relaxing him. Here he was safe. Here he wasn’t judged for wanting these things. “You know it. Love making you wait. Where were we?”
“My place. On the couch. My hands...behind my back.”
“Yeah?” Wes sounded more interested now. “Bound or was I just making you keep them there?”
“I...” Dustin’s heart tripped over itself.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t pack rope. Just tell me the fantasy the way it happened.” Wes’s voice was soothing as ever, but even though Dustin had admitted similar thoughts to Wes in the dead of night, this was different, and Wes was the only person in the world who knew what really turned Dustin on.
“Bound. Something silky, like a tie. Tight enough to feel it. Straining against it as you suck me.”
“That’s right.” Wes huffed out a breath. “I’d want you to feel it. I’m good with knots. You’d have to take it, and you better not come until I’m good and ready for it.”
“I won’t.” Unbidden, Dustin’s hand stroked down his torso. He pressed his palm hard against his aching erection.
“Nuh-uh.” Wes made a clicking noise. “Did I say you could touch yourself yet?”
Well, hell. Dustin had forgotten that Wes could see him. Still though, he didn’t open his eyes, wanting to keep this going. He fisted his hands at his sides. “Sorry.”
“That’s better.” Wes had this way of making Dustin feel validated, handing out warm praise for little actions of compliance, making Dustin want to give him more and more. “Touch your wrists for me, pretend there’s a tie there.”
Dustin moaned, almost louder than had he been allowed to touch his cock. Crossing his hands, he gripped his wrists hard enough to feel the pressure he craved.
“Just like that. Imagine me wrapping them up tight. Spread your legs a little, pretend I’m in front you.”
“Oh fuck yes.” Dustin�
�s thighs spread with zero input from his brain.
“Now...let’s get creative...”
“Yesssss.” Dustin fucking loved when Wes got creative. Over the months, he’d shown himself as more than adept at improvising using ordinary objects along with his words to drive Dustin out of his head.
“Sit on your right hand. Use the left to undo your belt.”
Luckily, Dustin had plenty of experience on missions needing to do things wrong-handed, and though awkward, this wasn’t an impossible task. Still, he felt the need to push back. “I usually do myself right-handed.”
And holy fuck, if that wasn’t an admission that they were about to jerk off together, right here in the same room. His eyes might be closed, but his body knew exactly where it was, who he was with, how this was inherently different from all the times in chat.
“I know. The left will feel more like it’s someone else. Trust me.” Wes laughed, a dark chuckle. “And besides, we both know that you coming fast isn’t the point. You need me to make you wait.”
“Yes.” Dustin sighed softly as he finally got the stupid belt open and his fly unzipped.
“That’s better right? Little breathing room. No touching yet though.”
“I won’t.” Dustin nodded vigorously, the urge to please Wes building.
“Can you pull off your shirt for me? I wanna see your chest.” Wes’s voice was seductive, but it gave plenty of room for him to say no.
“Yeah.” He was usually shirtless when they did this online, and he more than liked the idea of Wes watching him. Shifting to release his right hand, he made quick work of the T-shirt, shoving his hand back under his ass quickly.
“Good. That’s real good.” Wes’s voice washed over him. “God, you’re hot.”
Wheels Up Page 3
