by Jools Louise
I felt he held back emotionally, however. As a soldier he would be expected to be strong, stoic and stalwart. He was certainly someone I could rely on in a pinch, but I always felt like there were things he wanted to say to me, but couldn’t for some reason. He and Louis were virtually inseparable, having served together in the military where they had both met Jackson in his guise as an intelligence operative. I sometimes saw a flash of something dark and troubled in Marcus’s gaze, but whenever he noticed anyone watching, it was like he flipped a switch and he was back to his usual irreverent self. I had never felt afraid of him, but he was certainly fighting some inner demons.
I reached the gym, enjoying the coolness of the air conditioning after the heat of the sun. Blinking as my vision adjusted to the artificial lighting which seemed dimmer than outside, I looked around for Marcus, frowning when I didn’t hear him answer my call. He had sent a message with Max that he needed to see me, but perhaps something had cropped up.
I shrugged, moving further into the gym as I heard the sound of a shower running. Marcus must be in there.
As I entered the locker room, I let out a cry of alarm, immediately hitting the panic button which was located just inside the door. Linked to the main office it let people know there was an emergency. This definitely constituted an emergency as I noted Marcus sprawled naked in a heap inside the shower. His head was bleeding, the red ooze mixing in a bloody river around his lower torso and legs. He wasn’t moving and his eyes were closed, the water pouring over his prone form.
Rushing forward, I went to help Marcus, flicking the water off and kneeling to try to assess his injury. I’d taken basic first aid, so I knew head injuries could bleed like a bitch. He must have fallen and hit his head. A sound behind me had me turning, my eyes widening as I saw one of the guests towering above me. His hand was raised in a fist and a fierce snarl of rage twisted his face into a grotesque caricature of his usually pleasant visage.
I lowered my eyes, trying to appear none threatening whilst searching for something that could be used as a weapon and finding nothing.
“Harrison, isn’t it?” I questioned softly, almost a whisper as I tried to remain calm. Luckily my voice came out with no Minnie Mouse squeak to it.
I heard a growl, almost animalistic, and tried not to flinch as I waited for a blow to fall. It didn’t happen. There was a whimper of distress and I chanced a look at Harrison, watching as he crumpled to his knees, his head falling into his hands and sobs began to shake his large frame.
“Harrison? I need to check on Marcus, is that okay?” I asked softly, still calm.
Since he was still sobbing brokenly, I crawled a little way and reached for a dry towel hanging beside the shower. Wrapping it around Marcus’s broad shoulders I tried not to move him too much but feeling I needed to keep him warm. I dried him as much as I could, and heard with relief the sound of pounding footsteps as help arrived in the form of Jackson, Louis, Sylvia, and Dean.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Harrison kept repeating the words as he allowed himself to be led away by Jackson. His big arm wrapped around Harrison’s shoulder, soothing the troubled man.
Sylvia and Louis did a quick assessment of Marcus and I grabbed a second towel to cover him with. My clothes were covered in blood and wet through but I refused to leave. A back board was brought in and Marcus gently moved onto it in case of spinal injury. Then Dean pushed forward a wheeled stretcher and Marcus was lifted smoothly and placed onto it before we all left for the medical centre.
I closed down the gym, pocketing the keys before following everyone, shaking as the adrenaline faded.
Dean put his arm around me and I gave him a slight smile, grateful for his warm touch. I began to tremble a little as the adrenalin left me.
“He’ll be okay, Jess. He’s tough as old boots.”
“Hey! At least compare me to something better than mouldy old boots!” Marcus’s voice was hoarse and a little slurred suggesting a concussion, but he was obviously aware enough to complain about Dean’s description.
I could feel tears building up, then the warm trickle as they overflowed along my face. I really did not want to lose any of my guys and seeing Marcus in a broken heap had shaken me to the core.
We had by now arrived at the medical centre and I went in with the guys, frowning as Sylvia ordered me to go change clothes. Apparently I looked like something out of a Carrie remake with blood everywhere and I growled in frustration as she shut the examination room door in my face.
Dean tried to wipe the smile from his face as he witnessed the power play, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Jess, you really are a mess right now.”
I glared at him, then down at myself before grimacing as reason prevailed. “I hope you don’t say that to all the girls!” I arched one brow haughtily, then sniffed in disdain as he laughed at me.
“Well now, luv, that depends on the mess. We’ve all seen you covered in other…fluids. It’s just blood isn’t that big a turn-on!” I narrowed my eyes and shivered as the cool air of the AC hit my clammy clothes then made a dignified retreat, ignoring the chafing of wet linen between my legs.
Dean draped an arm around me, giving me a kiss on my cheek.
“You don’t think I’m just going to let you go on your own, do you? You’ve had a shock and Marcus doesn’t need everyone and his mother in there right now. The Doc will let you see him in a bit.”
I was relieved at Dean’s presence, accepting the arm around me and cuddling close as he helped me get changed before returning to the clinic.
“Much better, Jess. Now you can see Marcus without giving him nightmares.” I couldn’t prevent the glare at Sylvia’s tart tone and swept by her without acknowledging her any further.
“Hey, luv, thanks for the save.” Marcus was looking brighter, propped up on a bed, his tanned skin a stark contrast to the white sheets. His hair was a short, dark brown and framed a face which was just a little too beaten up to be truly handsome. He had once told me he’d done some boxing on an amateur level, and judging from the slight bump on his nose, he’d taken a couple of hard hits in his time.
“Hey, Marky, I didn’t think your hard head needed saving!” I quipped, and then spoiled the snarky moment by bursting into tears and falling onto his chest like some melodramatic movie actress from Gone with the Wind.
“Hey, I’m tough, not invincible!” The retort was muffled since his mouth was kissing my eyelids, trying to stop the flood of tears.
I felt him lifting me to lie beside him on the bed, my head resting in the crook of his shoulder as one arm and one leg draped over his large frame. It would have made for a nice, intimate moment but for my swollen eyes red from tears, the snot running freely from my nose onto his shoulder and the bandage wrapped around Marcus’s head.
I choked out a laugh as I lifted my head finally. Marcus took one look at the mess on his shoulder, curled his lip, and said, “Niiice!” with a slight intonation of snarky sarcasm.
“I’m not an attractive crier.” I grabbed a tissue from a box on the side, wiping him clean and then myself.
“No kidding!” He smirked at me, eyes twinkling with amusement, and we shared another laugh since I knew full well what I looked like. “What happened, Marcus?” I finally asked the question, seeing Louis and Dean nodding since they had stayed in the room during my mini-meltdown.
“Harrison and I had a…fling. It was while I was on holiday a few years ago. Six months ago he and his patrol were hit by an RPG in Afghanistan. He survived with very few injuries but the rest of the men in the MWMIK, the Mobility Weapons Mounted Installation Kit, or Jackal were killed. Our affair ended well before the attack, but he refused to accept that and harassed me for months afterward.
“I saw his name on the guest list and told Jackson. He told me to avoid Harrison, since he wanted to prevent any kind of trigger which might cause a flashback. Our…relationship didn’t end well. He was angry at me because I couldn’t commit to
him, and he wanted something permanent. When he saw me at the gym he flipped out and attacked me. I fell back, hit my head and, well…you know the rest.” Marcus looked slightly ashamed, and I didn’t know why.
“I didn’t end it well. I brushed off his feelings for me because they made me uncomfortable.”
“The same way my feelings for you make you uncomfortable.” I stared into his hazel eyes, seeing the flash of acknowledgement there.
“Whenever I get close to someone, they leave. Either through death or they just get tired of me and go.” He sighed, looking pained at the admission.
“Don’t you want to be with us?” Dean asked, his stunning turquoise eyes looking worried. Marcus was one of his heroes.
“Yes! Of course I do!” Marcus sounded shocked that Dean would ask that question.
“I just worry sometimes that things are going so great here. Usually when that happens, there’s a price to be paid…at least for me, anyway.”
“Wow! I’m so glad none of us have any insecurities about our relationship.” We all looked at Louis with wide eyes. His outburst was a surprise to say the least.
“Um…” Marcus had nothing to say, turning his head away.
“You know what, Marcus? Each one of us has our own past to deal with, our own demons that we fight every single day. Are you so selfish that you think you’re the only one who is scared about caring?” Louis shouted the last sentence then stormed out of the clinic, his eyes flashing with anger.
I blinked, exchanging a concerned glance with Dean at the flare-up from Louis. Then we looked to Marcus for an explanation since he knew Louis better than anyone.
Marcus winced under our enquiring gazes, shifting on the bed.
“Louis and I have been friends since childhood. We were in the same school. We enlisted together, but Louis didn’t get through the Pathfinder training. It was the first time we were apart when we were deployed separately. He and I loved each other as brothers before becoming lovers.” Marcus looked up, tears filling his eyes. “I hurt Louis when I had my fling. Harrison wasn’t the first. I get scared to get too close, I don’t know why. Then I do something really stupid, like I push people away. I really like being here. I really don’t want to lose anyone here. The army doesn’t reward tears and sympathy. You do your job and keep your upper lip stiff as a board. No weakness. No emotions.” The tears fell, warm rivulets against his tanned skin. “I don’t know how to let people in,” he cried, shoulders shaking as the harsh sobs racked his frame.
“Sweetie, you just did!” I whispered, sitting up beside him and cradling his head gently. Dean somehow managed to curl up on the other side, spooning against Marcus and offering his comforting strength.
“You don’t always have to be the strong, silent one. Just look at Max!”
“Hey!” Max’s voice yelped out, and I giggled as he slapped my ass in retaliation. “I’ll have you know I can be strong and silent…and in just a second I’ll tell you when that happened last.” He gave his cheeky grin, and even Marcus choked out a hoarse chuckle since Max had swept into full diva mode.
“You see? Job done!” Max slapped me again, still grinning. Then his expression grew serious and he bent over to place a tender kiss on Marcus’s damp cheek.
“You know we would be devastated if anything ever happened to you. We love you. Please don’t shut us out. This is a work in progress. Do you really want to push our love out of your life and be alone? Wouldn’t you prefer to find your way with us by your side?” He pressed another kiss on Marcus’s mouth which turned into one of those sexy, toe-curling lip-locks which went on and on and on. Finally releasing Marcus, Max cupped his face and stared into the heavy-lidded, dazed hazel depths of his lover’s eyes.
“You really are handsome, even crying. Even though Jess is not an attractive crier, she really is a great f—”
I slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.
“I was going to say, ‘she really is a great friend!’” Max’s attempt at wounded pride didn’t quite work since his eyes sparkled with mirth from having paid me back for my earlier cheek.
I grinned at him, shaking my head. Noticing Marcus’s eyelids drooping as he began to fade into sleep, I clambered off, giving him a kiss good-bye and leaving him with Dean and Max.
“I’ll let you rest, luv.” Just as I reached the doorway, Marcus’s voice followed me.
“Let me know if Louis is okay, won’t you?” He sounded sad and weary. I nodded then grinned slightly as Louis’s head peeped around the doorframe.
“Go get him, luv,” I whispered, kissing him on the cheek. He hugged me tight, his arms wrapping around me like a vice.
“I know I don’t speak up a lot, but I really love you all. I’ve been hurt so much. It’s hard for me, too, to let people in.” His voice was husky with tears.
I hugged him back, squeezing him against me.
“Louis, you’ll find your way soon enough. We’re still figuring out our place in the relationship. If it was just about the sex, it’d be easy. No emotional attachments, no chance of getting hurt.” I looked at him, staring into his dark green eyes. “None of us want to be hurt, and from the sounds of it, you and Marcus have some talking to do. If you were an emotional coward, you wouldn’t be here, trying to make this work. You’re safe here. You can let us in anytime you want.” I kissed him hard on the mouth, hugging him again before leaving the guys to talk.
Chapter Four:
Eight Studs and a Cum Junkie
Two weeks later, Marcus was fully healed. Louis and Marcus had spent hours talking and had forged a stronger bond than ever before. Prior to the attack on Marcus, they had obviously been friends, sharing laughs and jibes. They were not comfortable touching in public, however. Now they were often seen in passionate lip-locks, holding hands, or exchanging intimate touches. I smiled every time I saw the pair, since they were beautifully in love. It was like a veil had been lifted and now they were showing their true light. It was stunning.
Jackson came up behind me as I sat at the crew’s dining table. The cafe had been taken over by Dean, who had developed a passion for cooking and was often to be found experimenting with various recipes. Most were delicious, with some very emphatically ending up in the never-ever-again pile.
We had all been so busy since our guests had arrived that we had not been able to spend much time together as a group. I missed my guys, having relished their passionate loving, but not worrying too much since we had made great headway with our guests, and most were doing really well.
Jackson planted a kiss on the top of my head before sinking down with a sigh in the chair next to me. He plucked a strawberry from the dish in front of me, giving me a tired smile. We sat for a few minutes, enjoying the cooling ocean breeze and the vibrant beauty of the pool area. I was enjoying an early breakfast, which consisted of my usual pancakes, fresh fruit, and some Greek yogurt. The ubiquitous maple syrup sat on the table, but I had managed to reduce my intake somewhat, and it showed on my figure. In my previous life my weight had been a problem since I ate for comfort during stressful periods. Pancakes, syrup, and ice cream were my favourite tension relievers but here on the island, with Jackson’s help, I enjoyed them as a fuel source rather than relying on the carbs to quench my stress hormones.
The sun was barely up and usually I would be still be curled up in bed, comfortably squished between a couple of my studs and waiting for my sexy wake-up call. This morning I had felt energised for some reason, wanting to swim for a bit before eating a quiet breakfast then getting on with paperwork. Leaving Jackson and Max cuddling under the sheets, I decided to have a quiet moment to reflect.
We had several more guests lined up who would be arriving within the next few weeks, and interviews had been conducted to hire a second psychotherapist. It had been decided that whilst the jet was useful, if there was a medical emergency a helicopter would give us greater flexibility and speed. This required advertising for two extra pilots with helicopter lice
nces, and I really liked the look of one female who had served in the USAF as a pilot and was looking for another job, having left the military.
I heard the slap of flip-flops on the pathway and a tired-looking Dean showed up yawning. Flopping onto an adjacent seat, he rested his head on his arms and dozed for a minute before hauling upright again and shuffling over to the coffeepot.
Jackson and I grinned at each other, stifling laughter since Dean’s attire was somewhat dishevelled. One butt cheek peeked as he scratched his ass distractedly, his shorts hanging off his hips as though they didn’t fit.
“Dean, do you think perhaps you might be wearing someone else’s shorts?” I asked the question with a snigger, since Dean definitely wasn’t completely awake this morning.
He paused, looked down at himself, and grinned sheepishly.
“Hmm, I wonder what Caleb’s wearing?”
I stared at the cute, perky butt cheek peeking out, suddenly in the mood for a bit of peach. Dean’s hair was damp, as though he’d come straight from the shower, and I caught a delicious whiff of citrusy bodywash and the clean, fresh scent of his skin.
Standing, I gave Jackson an enquiring look and he grinned at me wickedly.
We both moved, going either side of Dean’s sluggish form. I sank to my knees, my hands curving around the tight bubble butt, stroking the bare cheek with my thumb before swiping my tongue along the tempting flesh. I felt Dean shudder and pulled at the waistband of his too-large shorts to bare his entire butt to my admiring gaze.
“Hmmm, this peach looks ripe. It tastes fantastic, too.” I licked his other cheek, squeezing lightly with my hands and plumping the mounds into two perky pillows. I rubbed my cheek against them, then bit into one tenderly. Dean jerked, his low moan of pleasure suddenly muffled and I looked up. Jackson had insinuated himself between the counter and Dean, his hands cupping Dean’s face and kissing him hungrily. Grinding his hips against Dean’s, I could feel the change in Dean’s body as he trembled with lust. I bit down again, then licked the spot, repeating the process until Dean was pumping his hips jerkily in response. He lifted one leg, hooking it around Jackson’s narrow waist, rutting against the man. I pulled on the shorts again, dragging them further down his legs. One of my hands reached between his legs, finding not only Dean’s eight-inch nail, but Jackson’s slightly longer meat as well. Both were naked, hot, hard, and seeping pre-cum.
