by L. A. Witt
“It’s funny to think about the military as providing stability.”
“Financially, it does. In every other way?” Nate laughed with a hint of bitterness. “Not so much. But the paychecks and housing allowance come in like clockwork, and you know you’ll be employed for a certain period. It’s easy to get used to that kind of thing.”
“Man, that would be nice. Hell, just being a salaried employee would make a huge difference for me.” Lucas exhaled. “But I might as well not get too comfortable, or I’ll just keep putting off being a full-time tattoo artist. That’s not a job for someone who’s used to getting paid on the regular.”
“Well, if your work is any indication?” Nate pulled him in tighter and kissed his cheek. “I don’t think you’re going to have much to worry about.”
Lucas just smiled and leaned against him as they continued down the beach.
Funny how he knew better than to get comfortable with a paycheck, so he stuck with jobs that paid hourly instead of salaried. But where was that weirdly pragmatic part of his brain when it came to this relationship? MIA.
He knew damn well it was stupid to get this involved with someone on the rebound. Especially someone rebounding from a ten-year marriage that had ended badly. Sleeping with the guy was one thing. Getting emotionally invested? Not a good idea.
But he would be an idiot to think he was still in this for sex and nothing else. Or that he could be objective and rational enough to bail before things went too far. If that were the case, he’d have done it already.
No, he wasn’t leaving, and he wasn’t just in it for the sex.
It wasn’t just him, either. He hadn’t missed the way Nate had looked at him last night. As soon as they’d locked eyes in the fading daylight, Lucas’s heart had somersaulted, and he’d known without a doubt that things weren’t the way they’d been in the beginning.
He’d probably regret it when it was over. He’d wonder what the hell he’d been thinking.
And then he’d remember moments like this—strolling along a mostly deserted beach, blissed out and still achy from all the sex they’d had last night—and he’d know why he’d done it. He’d still feel stupid about it, but he’d get it.
Because even knowing how it would end, who in their right mind would leave right when things were getting this good?
Chapter 17
“Earth to Screws?” Jon waved a hand in front of Nate’s face.
“Hmm?” Nate shook himself. “What?”
Jon smirked. “You still with us?”
“Uh . . .” Nate looked around to get his bearings. They’d taken over their usual corner of O’Leary’s, and he’d barely noticed the Braves game was already in the bottom of the seventh. Had he actually spaced out for three straight innings?
Jon nudged him. “You okay? You’ve been kind of weird lately.”
“Weird?” Nate cleared his throat. “Weird, how?”
“Besides zoning out so long, you missed like eight opportunities to talk shit?” Jon gestured at their squadron mates, some of whom were giving Nate concerned—if amused—looks—while the others were fixated on the game. “I don’t know, man. You’ve been spending a lot of time just . . . in another world. Which I’d expect from Taxi, but—”
“Fuck you, Fumes!”
Jon laughed, but sobered quickly and lowered his voice. “Seriously. You all right?”
“I’m good.” Nate took a swig of beer, wondering when it had gone warm and flat. Damn. He really had been in another world for a while. Probably because he really wanted to be someplace else.
Tonight, though, the choices were kicking back at home alone or drinking with the squadron. Either option was fine most of the time, but he’d been too restless to be home. And now that he was here, he was too distracted to hang out with his coworkers.
Lucas was working that night. He’d been pulling extralong shifts since they’d come back from the Outer Banks nearly a week ago, and Nate felt kind of guilty. All the relaxation from that weekend seemed to have gone up in smoke as Lucas made up for lost time at his various jobs. Poor dude—he couldn’t catch a break.
“Nate?”
He shook himself again.
Jon chuckled uneasily. “You’re really out of it tonight, aren’t you? What’s going on with you and that guy?”
“Nothing,” Nate said quickly. Probably too quickly. “Just, you know, haven’t seen him in a few days.”
Jon’s eyebrow rose.
“I’m just having some fun with him.” Nate took another pull of warm, mostly flat beer. “Doesn’t mean it’s going anywhere.” Liar, liar . . .
Jon inclined his head. “And that doesn’t sound like some of the shit I said when I was in denial over things with Matt?”
Nate scowled.
“I mean, you were right about me,” Jon said. “I swore off relationships and a relationship found me. I was wrong.”
“And I’ve never claimed to be antirelationship.”
“No, but you seem really into this new one even while you’re pretty freshly out of a long one.”
Nate winced. “Thanks. My ex is really what I wanted to think about tonight.”
“Hey, I’m not trying to rub salt in the wounds. I’m just . . .” Jon gnawed his lip.
“What?”
Jon held his gaze for a moment, then took a breath. “Look, you’ve barely talked about Caleb since you guys split up. He was a huge part of your life for ten years, and I can’t remember the last time you’ve been mentioned him. Especially since you met Lucas. I mean, the day we went to the courthouse, you tossed your ring in the river, asked me to take you out drinking, and started talking about covering up your tattoo.” He put up a hand, and his brow creased. “And I get it. Don’t get me wrong. But . . . have you done anything since then to actually deal with the divorce?”
“Like what? Cry about it?”
Jon shrugged. “If that’s what you need.”
Nate glared at him. “You know that’s not how I work.”
“Well, no. But you guys had a lot of history. And—”
“And it’s over. I’m not going to waste any more time on Caleb than I already have.”
“No, but you’re also not going to get over a ten-year relationship overnight.”
“The better part of six months isn’t exactly overnight.”
“And how much of that almost six months have you spent either drunk or with Lucas?”
“I haven’t been drunk in ages,” Nate said.
“Which kind of proves my point.” Jon took a pull from his own beer. “As soon as Caleb left, you started getting hammered at every opportunity. Then Lucas came into the picture. . . .”
Nate smirked. “Uh, might be because I’d just as soon not set myself up for some whiskey dick.” Humor fading, he added, “Or are you trying to convince me I should be drinking away my divorce?”
“Not at all.” Jon shook his head. “I’m just worried you traded one drug for another.”
Nate blinked. “Sorry, what?”
Jon exhaled. “Maybe I’m reading you and this all wrong. But . . . listen, I know you. And I guess I’m just concerned you’re throwing yourself into this thing with Lucas as a way of avoiding everything else.”
“Everything else being Caleb.”
Jon nodded.
“I’m fine. He’s gone, and I wouldn’t take that cheating son of a bitch back as a gift.”
“No, but—”
“I’m fine.”
Jon held his gaze. Finally, he shrugged again. Tilting his beer bottle toward the TV screen, he said, “They’re playing again tomorrow night. You coming?”
Nate shook his head. “Lucas is actually off for work for a change. So of course that’s when the Realtor is coming to show the house, but . . .” He shrugged. “At least the buyers seem promising.” He held up his crossed fingers. “Maybe I’ll finally sell the goddamned place.”
Jon smiled, but he still seemed uneasy. “And you’re okay with
that? With really selling the house?”
Nate sighed. “Back off, okay? I know you’re worried, and I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I’ve got this.”
Jon didn’t have to say a word; the skepticism was written all over his face.
“I mean it,” Nate said. “Don’t worry about me.” He reached for his beer. “I’m dealing with it.”
* * *
Nate had barely finished changing out of his uniform the next afternoon when Lucas pulled into the driveway. A moment later, they met at the door, and all it took was one look at him—especially since it had been a few days—to blank Nate’s mind.
You’re here. God, I want you. Like now.
Right there on the porch, in full view of the neighbors and with the front door still wide open, they pulled each other into a kiss. Nate thought his knees would collapse right out from under him—after just a few days apart, he needed this. Badly. If they stood here much longer, he was going to wind up fucking Lucas right up against the door in front of God and everyone.
Somehow he had the presence of mind to tug Lucas inside and toe the door shut behind them. As soon as the latch clicked, it was game on. He pushed Lucas up against the door, and they kissed frantically and greedily, gripping each other’s clothes, hair, necks . . . whatever they could get their hands on. Too bad Nate hadn’t had the foresight to put a condom and lube in his pocket; he could’ve turned Lucas around and done him right here.
They’d get to that part. Even though he was aroused as hell and already needed to come, he wasn’t in a hurry for anything except what he had right now—a hot, horny Lucas in his arms.
He bent to kiss Lucas’s neck. “I know it’s only been a few days,” he murmured. “But Jesus, I’ve missed you.”
“Ungh. Me too.” Lucas kneaded Nate’s ass through his jeans. “I am so sorry I haven’t been around the last—”
“Don’t apologize,” Nate said against the hot skin of Lucas’s throat. “You’re here now, and we can definitely make up for lost time.”
Lucas whimpered, and he shivered as Nate curved a hand over his ass. Grinding his hardening dick against Nate’s, Lucas said, “If this is how we’re going to make up for it, I might volunteer for some longer shifts.”
Nate laughed and kept kissing his way up Lucas’s neck. “Don’t do that. Too much time away from you, and we’ll need to get the paramedics involved.”
This time it was Lucas who laughed, and the thrum of his voice against Nate’s lips was surprisingly arousing. Nate nipped gently as he rubbed their erections together. “We should really find a flat surface.”
“The door is flat.”
Nate snorted. “A flat horizontal surface.”
Lucas gave a dramatic sigh. “Such a diva.”
Rolling his eyes, Nate laughed and tugged Lucas away from the door. “Uh-huh. A diva who’d rather focus on you than arguing with gravity.”
Not surprisingly, they didn’t quite make it to the bedroom. Instead, Lucas pulled him down onto the couch, and in Nate’s mind, he saw them here the very first time. Naked. Sucking each other off. That erotic—hell, pornographic—way Lucas had fucked his mouth from above.
Groaning, Nate ground against Lucas and kissed him even harder. He wanted that again. Right here. Right now. He wanted Lucas’s clothes off and his thick cock down his throat.
In between kissing and grinding and rubbing and touching each other all over, they succeeded in removing a few clothes. Lucas’s shirt. Then Nate’s. Lucas’s shoes thumped onto the floor. Nate’s belt buckle jingled.
He pushed Lucas’s jeans and boxers down just far enough to let his hard cock spring free. When he closed his fingers around it, Lucas arched under him with a gasp.
“Oh God.” He pushed himself against Nate’s palm. “Hope you’re . . . planning to go twice tonight because I am so not going to last like this.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve got plenty.” He leaned down to kiss Lucas’s neck again. He loved that. Loved the heat, and the way his lips seemed to turn Lucas inside out.
Beyond the walls and windows, he was vaguely aware of a car pulling into the neighbor’s driveway, and he grinned against Lucas’s neck. The whole world was going on like normal outside, but tucked away from everyone and everything else, he had this beautiful man in his arms.
You’re all mine tonight.
He lifted his head to kiss him, and Lucas thrust into his hand. Oh, yeah, he was hot like this. His own cock strained at the front of his pants, but it could wait. He had Lucas right where he wanted him—on a collision course with an orgasm—and there was no stopping now. Not even to take the pressure of his erection.
He stroked Lucas with one hand and kept the other firmly planted on the back of his neck. They were both out of breath, but neither broke the kiss for more than a second or two here and there.
There were footsteps outside, and voices. Nate thought he recognized one—must’ve been a neighbor—but right then, Lucas moaned and pulled Nate’s focus back.
“Oh God,” Lucas moaned between kisses. “That feels so good.”
“Mmm, good. Love it when you’re—”
The crunch of a key in a lock jolted Nate back into reality.
The Realtor.
The Realtor was showing the house.
Today.
Like . . . now.
“Oh shit!”
Lucas tensed. “What?”
But a split second later, the front door swung open and in waltzed Nate’s Realtor and a young African-American couple.
Donna did a double take. So did the couple.
Everyone froze.
Donna stared at them, slack-jawed. Lucas looked back and forth from Nate to the newcomers. The couple who’d come to see the house glanced at each other.
And Nate . . . well hell. What could he do?
He laughed, shifting his position as subtly as he could to offer Lucas a little cover. “Uh . . . hi.”
“Um.” Donna cleared her throat. “We’ll just . . . have a look at the kitchen.” She quickly herded the dumbstruck couple into the kitchen, talking loudly about the new appliances and the sunny breakfast nook.
With Donna and the probably-not-gonna-happen buyers out of the room, Nate and Lucas quickly collected their clothes, straightened the pillows, and darted into the bedroom.
Lucas pulled his shirt over his head. “Did you know she was coming today?”
“Yes,” Nate said sheepishly as he buckled his belt. “But then you got here, and I kinda . . . forgot.”
Lucas snorted. “Dork.”
“Hey. You’re the one who’s been fucking me to distraction.”
“Uh-huh. And I haven’t heard you objecting.”
“Not even a little.” Nate gathered Lucas in his arms. “Quite the contrary, believe me.”
Lucas grinned into a soft kiss. “Maybe I should have your Realtor text me when she’s bringing buyers around. You know, in case you forget again.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” He glanced toward the bedroom door. “Let me check in with Donna and then we’ll get out of her hair.”
Lucas nodded.
Dressed and presentable, Nate left the bedroom and poked his head into the kitchen. The couple paused their hushed discussion about the dining room to shoot uneasy looks at him. As if his cheeks weren’t already on fire.
Donna was still a bit red-faced as she stepped closer to him. Glancing back at the couple, she kept her voice quiet. “They’re really in love with the place, so they still want to have a look around.”
“Sure.” Nate suppressed a grin. “We’ll get out of your hair. And, uh, sorry again.”
She smiled. “It’s all right. I’d like to say you’re the first, but . . .” She shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”
Nate laughed. He doubted he’d be getting an offer on the house after this, but it would sure as hell be a funny story to tell the squadron.
While Donna continued showing the house, Nate and Lucas s
lipped out as stealthily as they could.
Neither of them spoke in the car. They didn’t even look at each other until they were well past Nate’s neighborhood and on the road that would take them to Virginia Beach Boulevard. Then they exchanged a glance, but didn’t say a word. Nate just kept on driving.
After a minute or so, Lucas gave a little snort. So did Nate. Shaking their heads, they both laughed, and Nate gave Lucas’s thigh a gentle pat. “Uh, sorry about . . . all that.”
Lucas chuckled. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I figured we were bound to have some kind of sexual disaster at some point.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I was cursed before you, and whatever cursed me was definitely going to get the last word in eventually.”
Nate laughed even harder. “Well, I’ll take this over the other disasters that could have happened.”
“Even if it means your house stays on the market longer?”
“Eh.” He squeezed Lucas’s thigh. “It’ll sell eventually, and this was pretty funny, so . . .” He shrugged.
“Fair enough. So what do we do now?”
“I don’t know. They won’t be there all night.” Nate glanced at Lucas and winked. “We can pick up where we left off when we get back.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Should we grab something to drink while we’re waiting?”
“I like that idea.”
They drove for a little while until they found a café near the beach, parked and went inside. In addition to the usual burger-and-fries menu, this was one of those hipster smoothie with every combination imaginable. Most of them sounded a little weird to Nate. If he wanted something with eighty shots of supplements and boosters and whatnot, he’d go talk to the meatheads in his squadron and see about one of their protein-powder monstrosities. He just wanted something to drink, not a formula to give him mutant superpowers.
He ordered a strawberry banana smoothie while Lucas got something that involved mangoes and sixteen other varieties of fruit.
They found a table by the window and relaxed while they watched tourists playing and sunning on the beach.
