In His Command

by Rie Warren

After I’d chewed and swallowed, I asked, “What was all that chitchatting about, by the fields?”

  “Could ask you the same. Had you a little viewin’ gallery goin’ on out there, didn’t ya?”

  I snorted and sent my eyes skyward. “Yeah, because I’m such a boob man.”

  Blondie’s smirk glided up his cheek, then lowered slightly. “What’d you think of Miss Eden?”

  I stewed over that for a moment. “Honest and handy with the healing, but she knew too much for my liking.”

  He tugged back his ponytail, and I rubbed my fingertips on the strips of short hair above his ears, slipping to the nape of his neck, thinking, Let me do that for you, with my cock slipping up and down your perfect ass cheeks. His faraway look stopped me just short of going for a Blondie ride.

  “Yeah, I thought so, too.”

  After that, we ate in silence. Being with him felt too damn…homey, which made me horny. Getting to know Blondie, sharing a tent, a room, and a bed with him affected me in a way I’d given up as Old History. Moving the platter aside, I lowered him slowly, getting ready to enjoy the feast of his mouth. “I need to kiss you.”

  He ducked away. “Uh-uh.”

  Scrubbing my hand on top of my head, I groaned. “What?”

  “First we’re gonna check that shoulder.”

  “I’m getting that kiss afterward.” I collapsed to the bed, gritting my teeth when he started poking around.

  He concentrated on the gash and grumbled, “You overdid it today.”

  “Shut it, Nursie.”

  After he finished, he smacked his hand to my stomach, and I lifted my hips with a hiss. “Said you were gonna be gentle.”

  He blew out the candlewicks, taking his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “Don’t recall that.”

  In the gloaming darkness, we undressed, our eyes on each other as pants dropped and legs, asses, and hard cocks appeared. I wanted to fuck him.

  Under a shitload of covers, he had other ideas, unfortunately for my cock.

  Face-to-face, front-to-front so our dicks brushed against each other—thick, hot, and hard—his hand wandered over my chest. “You like it here.”

  I whispered, “What gave me away?”

  With my neck cradled by his biceps, my lips straddling his corded throat, he hummed, “Your smile.”

  Shit yeah. I’m grinning like a goddamn fool. I made up for it by biting the big tendon between his neck and shoulder, licking it a few times. “Feels weird, babe.”

  “This?” He pumped against me, the broad shelf of his cock catching the underside of mine, running back and forth in a slick caress.

  “Ahhh, no…” My arms around his back, I split his thighs with my knee and got against him, good and tight until the wet sucking thrust of our cocks and the smooth slap of our balls had my hips glued to his and my back arching away.

  “This acceptance stuff,” I explained, when I could speak again.

  He stopped me with his hands gripping my ass and a puff of laughter against my ear. “Acceptance? Pretty sure a few of your new friends wouldn’t mind seein’ you laid low again.”

  “Yeah? And how would you like to lay me?”

  “Like this, Caspar.” Showing me exactly how, he shoved me onto my front and took a lone finger on a sexy journey down my spine to the clasp of my ass.

  I pushed against it, dipping with his moves, my erection dripping with come. His finger drilling, circling, exploring, he folded himself over my back. All his muscles, from his chest to his stomach to his legs, pressed against me.

  “More fingers, please.”

  Instead of complying, he pulled out slowly. “We can’t do this tonight. You need to rest, ’specially after that macho display today. You lost too much blood.”

  I pulled him from his knees into my arms. “Funny thing is, a whole lot of blood’s rushing south to my cock right now.”

  He aligned his lips with mine and moaned, “Too temptin’, Caspar. Far too fucking temptin’.”

  He restrained himself, muscles trembling while he watched me circle my shaft, tightening my fingers around the base to stop myself from shooting all over my stomach from the starving stare he aimed at me.

  I blew him a kiss. “Sure it’s not my messed-up mug putting you off?”

  He straddled me so his cock hung down, a viscous thread connecting with my belly. He stroked himself a couple times, his fist making a slick noise. “Mmm. Yeah, that’d be it. I can hardly keep it up for you, big man.”

  Then it was fucking around, but not fucking, no matter how tightly strung my balls were, and those bastards were practically harnessed to the base of my cock. I was in a real bed with Blondie. Touching, kissing, laughing, and…waiting.

  When we slowed down, I hauled him on top of me. Kneading the muscles of his back, I pushed my head up. “Still owe me that other kiss, lover.”

  So slowly, I dragged him toward me. Slanting his head within my hands, I tapped his mouth with my tongue. He gasped, inviting me inside with twining heat. Sucking the silky insides of his lips, I grabbed his hips and made sure he felt me all over his body. The fast heated fulfillment of our kiss grabbed me from inside my cock until I was ready to burst. I broke off with a gasp, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “Fuck.” My hips kept thrusting up to him even though I knew we weren’t finishing tonight.

  His mouth moved to my shoulder, his breath ragged. “Uhhmm, Caspar.”

  I pushed Blondie onto his side and snuggled in behind him. “Better go to sleep, babe, before I decide I don’t give a shit about blood loss and whatnot.”

  “Ain’t you a sweetheart?” His hand found my thigh and stayed there.

  “Yeah.”

  ’Course my cock had the final word. It wasn’t real cool about the lovey-dovey moment going down, because it sure as hell wasn’t going down anytime soon.

  Let’s just see how well he sleeps with my boner stabbing him in the back.

  Chapter Nine

  The sound of splashing water snuck into my sleep-addled brain. I burrowed my nose into a mound of pillows, the hit of Blondie’s masculine scent making me shiver awake. Peering out, I saw him at the washstand. His abs crunching, he bent over the ceramic bowl. He whipped his head up, water dripping down his face, saturating his stubble, his cheeks scrubbed pink.

  I sat up to watch the show. “Goddamn, you look good like that.”

  “Like what?” There was that breathy voice again, warmth rolling through me as he prowled in my direction.

  Blondie leaned over me, and my heart knocked a boulder-sized hole in my chest. “Wet. Warm.” Naked. Jesus, my voice was a little breathless, too.

  He inched closer, his arms braced on the bed. I reclined into the cushions, licking my lips. Just when I thought he was gonna kiss me, his mouth slid to the side, landing beside my ear. “Time to get up, lazybones.”

  Cranking my arm around his neck, I strong-armed him to the mattress. With a kick of my hips, I groaned, “Trust me; I’m up.”

  His hands moved across my back. “Yeah, I can feel that. Matter of fact, I felt it all night, big man.”

  “Mmm.” I nibbled his stomach, heading south. “Keep you awake?”

  “You kept me up.” His grin was full of dimples, delight, and desire.

  “Still up, I see.” My fingertips coasting low, I lifted them away to watch his erect cock levitate toward my hand.

  His drawl turned my body inside out. “That’s a given where you’re concerned, but—”

  “Lemme guess. You’re hungry?”

  The hand that cradled my head became a fist for a furious skull rub. “Yep!”

  We started roughhousing in bed. I hadn’t done that since the last time a man had ventured into the no-go zone of my heart. On this glorious morning, Blondie was in need of a takedown.

  He scrambled away before I could retaliate, but I latched on to his calf and hauled him back. With his wrists restrained, I rose above him. I kept his eyes in my sights as I lowered my lips to his silky ni
pples. Mouthing them to tight tan peaks, I waited until he started moaning; then I pushed him out of bed.

  After a long, back-cracking stretch, I rubbed my bare chest down to my stomach, enjoying the way he looked at me, his mouth parted, eyes blazing blue buttons. “Yeah, I’m hungry, too.”

  Pulling on my clothes, arming myself, I swatted his ass in the direction of the door. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re a tease.” He stepped outside.

  I slammed him against the Love Hovel, sinking my hips against his. “Not a tease when I offered to fuck you last night, lover.” I poured a long, slow kiss over his mouth.

  His grip dropped to my ass, driving me to distraction point, and I disengaged our mouths with a final pluck of lips. “Morning, Blondie.”

  We didn’t exchange words while we walked to the mess. Our fingers brushed, but I put a stop to the lovey-dovey crap just shy of hand-holding. I felt relaxed and good, aside from resembling a human punching bag and boasting a prick as hard as a steel pike. Once entering the main thoroughfare, we were given wide berth—except for that dog and those undaunted kids—instead of pitchfork salutes.

  Progress.

  At breakfast, there were more of the Freelanders making friendly with longtime enemies, us. Seated at the far end of the table, Miss Eden watched me, her observation prickling along my skin as tangible as the spiky herbal leaves she’d massaged me with. When I directed my gaze at her, she broke contact, blending in.

  Keeping tabs on Eden, who excused herself back to the cleanup crew, linking fingers with Blondie’s out of sight, under the table, I barely had time to shovel the hot food into my mouth before a round of back slaps hit my shoulders, followed by a rugged chorus of, “Back to work, man.”

  Blondie let me go with a smile, running his fingertips up my thigh. “Yeah, back to work, big man.”

  I handed my cleared plate to Eden. It was replaced by her hold on my wrist and a square waxy package pressed into my palm. “For your lunch.” She held tighter. “Remember to feed your soul, too, Caspar.”

  I staggered a step when she released me. “Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, but she’d already moved on. Her eyes cut a straight line to Blondie’s, and at a small nod from him, she urged me, “Git on now, son.”

  Conscripted to the crops, I briefly wondered what Blondie’s work detail entailed when I saw him walking toward the meeting hall. For once, I didn’t want to know. Not out here, in the sun with my hands dug into the soil, on my knees. I suddenly understood the meaning of worship.

  The simplest things lured me in: working outside under a big sky instead of caged inside a claustrophobic city with a network of spies. Sitting down to eat with a roomful of friendlies. Hell, even the Love Hovel had some merits. Mostly Blondie’s big body in my bed, our bed.

  But then again, the head knocks from yesterday could’ve caused a concussion.

  My muscles blistering, I bounded from track to track, shanking my scythe on repeat. There was a kink in Blondie’s plan for my convalescence, though. What with my all-night erection, the heavy petting, and hauling in hectares of wheat, I wasn’t getting a whole lot of R & R.

  Stopping for a breather, I patted down my face and neck, looking over the wide swath of wheat I’d cut down. Raising my arms, I stretched left and right and looked around again. A feeling swelled in me, something I’d lost along the Corps road I’d taken. Pride without the price of jaded prejudice. That warmed me more than the bright autumn sun.

  Sweat beaded on my brow, but I kept at the hand harvesting, not hating it at all. In my periphery, the lone tractor cut closer and closer until it abutted my lanes, taking down four widths to my one. Envy was another new feeling. I wanted to drive that goddamn thing.

  The rangy young farmer hopped down beside me and introduced himself. “Micah.”

  “Cannon.” I put my hand in his.

  He shoved his cap back, revealing sweat-matted shaggy blond hair. “You’re settin’ a good pace.”

  “Trying to keep up with you.”

  Tossing me a strip of dried savory meat, he praised, “Not bad. Oughtta keep you around for next summer’s cotton crop.”

  I took a bite and chewed vigorously so I wouldn’t say something impossible, like how I suddenly wanted a future here so badly I could taste it. And like the frigging spicy meat I chomped on, it tasted a thousand times better than the food I’d dined on in my bare room alone in Alpha, or the CO crap I’d ingested from babyhood.

  I was relieved when Micah finished his ration without further comment. He slapped the side of the growling green monster. “Say, you wanna have a go?”

  “Fuck yeah!” I jumped up on the rig and sank my ass to the curved iron seat before he could change his mind.

  He got on behind me, shouting above the roar as I put her in gear. “You ever been on a tractor?”

  “Nope.” I loosed the clutch and shifted the round black knob. “But I’ve commanded a tank before; can’t be too different.”

  “That’s right; you’re our Corpsman.”

  I kept a close eye on the furrows I was running down, a flush from more than the morning’s exertion spreading on my face.

  He slapped my shoulder the same way he had the tractor. “Yessir, we all got a calling.”

  I zipped my lip, glaring across the golden waves of the wheaten horizon. Acceptance, acceptance, acceptance. Where was the accusation? I wasn’t a good person. I didn’t deserve their confidence.

  Two trips around the perimeter, I left a trail of flattened sheaves in our wake. Coming to a stop, I went ground level and started working backward, Micah beside me as we bundled and stacked, bundled and grouped. Eventually a pair of sandal-shod feet attached to slim ankles hopped on top of the bale I was roping.

  I followed shapely legs, the flare of tits to the comely face of one of the water bearers. She dipped her fingers into the pail and sprinkled cool water over my face. I straightened up. My discomfort in the presence of the brazen woman grew when I saw her sister in charms accompanied her.

  “Ladies.” I nodded.

  That single word was all it took to start them simpering in my direction. Damn it. I didn’t want to piss them off, but I was about to inform of my preference when Micah stepped in, smothering a smile.

  “Just the water, Jonquil, Lyra.” He tipped his head and the dipper, bringing a full scoop to his lips. “Don’t think our man’s interested in your wares, ladies. And y’all are full aware I got my own bed warmer.”

  As they traded small talk and we drank our share, I glanced at Micah’s finger, the gold band winking.

  “You’re married?” I asked when the oversweet perfume of desperate female was replaced by the scent of fallen wheat.

  “Seven heavenly years. My wife’s Kamber. She oversees the education side of things.”

  “You really have all types of lifestyles out here?”

  Scratching behind his ear, he chewed on a stalk of grain. “Guess we’re a little bit like that Amphitheater you’ve got in the Territories. Open-house kinda thing.”

  “Underground open house,” I corrected. “You’ve heard of the Theater?” I snapped off a stem for myself.

  “More than that, been to one.”

  “What Territory?”

  “Gamma.”

  He referred to the Midwestern Territory, a fertile belt that added up to his profession. “You grow up there?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  He hooked his cap over his forehead, squinted at the sky, and planted his hands on his hips. “Just wanted my freedom, man.”

  The ache in my gut spread through me as I stood in silence for a long while, wondering why it made sense only now. I’d spent years broadcasting a fuck-you vibe about the idea of freedom. For the first time I wished I’d gone with Sis’s fanciful stuff. I could’ve been here, too. But I wouldn’t have met Blondie if I’d traded my path for another.

  Point was, I’d been too much of a coward before my family died, and l
ater, too neck-deep up Corps ass to scope out other possibilities. Now it was too late. Wishful thinking and want never got me anywhere good.

  I was glad to see an influx of stragglers crossing outside the fields. The odd combo of Freelander scouts ushering unmistakable Territory refugees and rebels—their hairstyles and garments looking worse for wear but still slick and fitted next to the Freelanders’ grown-out locks and rustic garb—gave me a great reason to slap the Closed for Business sign on my brain.

  My thoughts dissembled ever further when I saw Kale. Dressed in mismatched armor, carrying the hand ax he’d surely used to cleaver my shoulder, he halted adjacent to me. He looked like he’d been run down by a tank and reversed over a time or three. That was something I took pride in, too.

  I jerked my chin at him. My silent challenge returned by his heavy eyebrows meeting in the middle and his throwing arm raised.

  Micah stopped beside me, winding a malleable strip of wheat between his two fists in the manner of a garrote. “You’ll wanna stay away from that one. He’s a nasty piece of work.”

  “I don’t run from anybody.”

  “Your murder, my friend.”

  “Gonna be his.” I sneered at Kale’s retreating back.

  “C’mon.”

  * * *

  We leaped the fence and fell in line. All villagers and newcomers were headed in one direction, to the meeting hall. “What’s going on?”

  “Seems the Elders are presiding.”

  The meeting hall was a seething press of bodies. Blondie was taller than most, and it took me only a few seconds to pick him up on my radar. He was leaning over Eden, their unheard words fast, their hands moving just as quickly. She finished speaking and raised her palm to his cheek. He didn’t recoil until he met my stare. His eyes unreadable, he invisi’d himself into the throng of bodies as she walked up to the stage and sat at a table occupied by the counselors of the Commune: Hills; Darke, who was leader of the militia; Rivers, who oversaw all things related to water resources; Forrest, the head of the foragers; Kamber, the schoolteacher; and Hatch, the resident inventor.

  Hills called order, his voice a low register cutting off the whispers and raised questions. “Friends. Friends! There’s been a rash of refugees today, escorted by our rangers to safety.”