Long Haul- The Complete Series Bundle

by Harper Logan

  They lay there together for another hour, the entire time Chandler wishing the clock would just stop and give them a little longer to be with one another.

  “You’re going to be leaving town tomorrow?” he asked.

  Adrian didn’t answer right away. “I was thinking,” he said. “Maybe I’d stick around for a few days. I’m in between contracts right now. It might take me a bit to find a load going to Rosebridge.”

  Excitement welled up in Chandler’s heart, and he fought it back. No use in getting expectations built up. “If you did that, I’d be happy to offer you a place on the couch. I’d say the bed, but… Too much to explain to April right now.”

  Adrian chuckled. “No, that’s fine. I’ve got a pretty nice sleeper cab in my truck. I don’t want to take up your space. But I’ll be around to bug you, I promise you that.”

  “Mm. Good.”

  “Think you’d be able to slip away? Have some private time?”

  Chandler grinned. “I think I can arrange something.” He wished he could lay there with him for the entire night, but it was getting late. “Listen, I’ve gotta pick my daughter up. See you again tomorrow? I’ve got the day off.”

  “Deal.”

  “I’ll give you my number.”

  Adrian got out of the bed and collected the clothes from the floor, tossing Chandler’s over to him. He slipped back into his own, and Chandler watched from the bed, smiling to himself. The way Adrian’s clothing tugged snug around his chiseled form was absolute fucking perfection, a feast for the eyes. It drove Chandler wild. It took all his control to keep him from jumping him and stripping him bare again.

  At the stop, towering semis lined the lot beneath the glow of dim, yellow street lamps. “This one’s mine,” Adrian said, gesturing to a red tractor with a white trailer. Chandler pulled his Chevy up next to it. The night air was cool and still, with the occasional sound of a passing car on the highway.

  “Gorgeous truck,” Chandler commented.

  “Isn’t she something?” Adrian said, patting the door affectionately. “Come around later and I can give you the tour. Show you what’s running under the hood.”

  All that was on Chandler’s mind at that moment was getting under Adrian’s hood again.

  Adrian opened the door and hoisted himself up into the cab. Chandler turned to leave, when Adrian, gripping the grab handle on the inside of the doorframe, swung down and left a kiss on his lips. He pulled himself back up, grinned, and then shut the door. Chandler stood there for a moment, a tilted smile on his mouth. He shook his head, chuckling, and then got in his pickup and drove away.

  Where was this going to go? In the back of his mind, Chandler knew the obvious answer. Soon enough, Adrian Stokes would return to being just a memory. Maybe words on a postcard sent from the road, or an occasional phone call, but how long could that last? A piece of paper could never fulfil the aching longing he’d feel for him. No, it’d only make it worse. He’d been through it before.

  He’d worked hard to forget about what he’d shared with Adrian, but in the end, all of those feelings had just been kept down in the deep recesses of his heart. He didn’t know if he could make himself forget again.

  The smart thing to do would’ve been to have told him “no.” To have made up some excuse, some reason for why Adrian shouldn’t wait around in town. It wouldn’t have been a far stretch—he was saddled with a heavy load from work and taking care of April. Yeah, that would’ve been the smart thing. But Chandler didn’t always make the smartest decisions.

  Adrian threw himself onto the twin-sized mattress in the sleeper portion of his truck, kicked off his boots and stretched his hands behind his head. On the rear wall to his left hung his favorite jacket, and next to that, a photo of Mom and Dad hugging and grinning at the camera. Above everything else, hung Old Glory. The flag was worn and dirtied, a souvenir he’d brought back from his station in Iraq.

  There was no getting rid of the stupid smile plastered on his face. His bottom lip was swollen from Chandler’s attentive kisses, his muscles ached and he was sore in all the right places, all pleasant reminders of the night’s events. Hell, he hadn’t come that hard in years. Five years, actually.

  Adrian had forgotten how amazing it felt to be with him. He’d also forgotten how deep the longing could be. He already missed the feeling of Chandler’s body against his, the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his scent. And his eyes. Those gorgeous eyes. They were so much more captivating than he had remembered.

  He couldn’t believe he’d actually found him. And that he wasn’t taken.

  Locating him was a miracle in itself, but for a little while he’d believed the sonofabitch was actually married.

  What if he had been?

  Would that have changed anything?

  Adrian wanted to believe that if Chandler Longman had still been happily married, that little reunion kiss would never have happened. Maybe they would’ve had a drink together, caught up on their lives, and then went their separate ways.

  But who was he kidding? Having him again had been on his mind the very moment he’d laid eyes on him in that bar, and he knew full well that it’d been the same for Chandler. The way they felt for each other, Adrian knew that nothing could’ve kept them apart, and that frightened him a little bit.

  Just what the hell was he getting himself back into?

  4

  That damn dry heat. The way the wind kicked up gusts of fine sand that seemed to stick into every crevice of your body, and gunked up your weapon so much you could build a fucking castle each time you serviced it. The surprisingly good food at chow. The long stretches of nothing, peppered by the scramble of a live fire alarm. The roar of Osprey helicopters and rumble of ATVs. Boots on the ground. Too much testosterone in the air.

  Sentry duty with Longman. Why’d it have to be with Longman? He didn’t get along with Longman. Or rather, he preferred not to get along with him.

  Why was that? It wasn’t like he had anything against Chandler. Sure, the guy was a little too quiet sometimes, but he wasn’t someone he usually wouldn’t have gotten along with. Adrian just preferred interacting with the guy as little as possible. Any time he did have to speak to him, he couldn’t help but be frigid.

  Maybe it had something to do with how he made Adrian feel every time he laid eyes on the guy.

  He’d found men attractive before, but none like Chandler. Chandler was a special combination of sinful perfection that never failed to make Adrian weak at the goddamn knees. He’d seen him in the shower. He’d seen him at the gym. And those eyes. Those green eyes could turn sand to glass.

  How could a man make him feel like this? Not even Rachel, his high school girlfriend, had ignited such a strong desire in him. And by all rights, Rachel should’ve. She was gorgeous—lead cheerleader, class president; way too good for someone like him.

  It was still hot, even though it was late dusk. The two of them stood at their post, gazing out across into the deep purple dusk. Occasionally, off in the city that lay far to the east, they could see flashes of gunfire and hear little pops several seconds later, like corn in a microwave.

  “You’re from New Hampshire, right?” Chandler asked, breaking the silence they’d been sharing for over an hour. “Rosebridge?”

  “That’s right,” Adrian said stiffly.

  “Beasley’s got one hell of a football team. That playoff game was really something.”

  “Wouldn’t know. I don't watch football,” he said.

  Chandler shrugged. “Fine. No need to talk.”

  Gunfire chattered off in the distance, throwing lances of light through the air.

  Silence was what Adrian had wanted. He didn’t want a reason to get any closer to PFC Chandler Longman than was necessary. He could trust the man to have his back, but that didn’t mean he needed to get close. Still, he couldn’t help but reply. “Since when were you about talking? I hardly ever see you speak to anyone.”

  “Don’t need to say
anything if there ain’t anything to be said.”

  “So there’s something to be said right now?”

  “Just interested in you, is all.”

  Bam. The feeling that jolted through Adrian’s heart at those words was more like a heart attack than a skipped beat. He managed to mask his reaction by adjusting his weapon, which was slung across his chest.

  “And why would you be interested in me?”

  “Never got to know nobody from a big city like Rosebridge before,” Chandler said. “And we’re working together, so, why not?”

  “Bullshit,” Adrian scoffed. “I know for a fact you know guys from cities.”

  “I know them. Never got to know them, though.”

  Adrian snorted and shook his head. “Rosebridge doesn’t even count as a big city. You must really be from the sticks.”

  “Everetteville, Arkansas,” he said.

  “Where the fuck is that?”

  “Exactly.”

  They both laughed.

  Another bout of machinegun fire pattered again in the eastern city. The remaining light from the sun was just about to slip away, leaving the sky a dark blue, like deep water in the ocean.

  “It’s weirdly beautiful out here, sometimes,” Adrian said. “Despite all the fucked up shit going on.”

  Chandler pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, brought one to his lips, lit it, and then offered the pack to Adrian. Cigarettes were a rare commodity—no way to get them except from care packages from home, or from civilians. Adrian took one. Chandler leaned over, holding his cigarette firmly between his lips. Adrian put the cigarette into his mouth, and touched the end to Chandler’s. The cherry ember passed from one tip to the other. Both men let out plumes of smoke that drifted with the wind.

  Adrian woke up to the sound of growling semi engines and bright sunlight streaming through the front window of his cab. He sat up and wiped his eyes. It’d been a while since he’d dreamed about Iraq.

  The memory of the dream quickly faded into a memory of flesh on flesh, of Chandler’s hot breath on his neck as he plunged deep into him, leaving him gasping. Goddamn, last night really did happen, didn’t it? The still-present soreness confirmed that yeah, it really had.

  He washed up and used the truck stop’s shower before dialing up Chandler’s number.

  “Chandler Longman speaking.”

  “Hey,” Adrian said.

  “Hey, yourself,” said Chandler, his tone softening. “You have a good sleep?”

  “Can’t complain,” he said. “The workout helped.”

  Chandler chuckled. “Well, why don’t you come on over. I’ll cook you some breakfast.”

  “Shit, I can’t say no to that.”

  “You need a ride?”

  “Unless you’ve got a place to park a seventy-foot semi.”

  “I’ll be over in a few.”

  Ten minutes later, Chandler’s silver pickup rolled into the truck stop. A part of Adrian still felt like what had happened yesterday might’ve been a really good dream, or that maybe he still was dreaming. Seeing Chandler stepping out of his truck, with the morning sunlight glinting off of his hair, flannel button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his swollen biceps, ripped jeans and dusty Red Wing boots… he still wasn’t quite convinced. The man looked like an angel out of heaven. Or maybe a devil disguised as one. He sure as hell was good at getting Adrian to sin.

  In a place like this, in broad daylight, discretion would’ve been the best decision, but neither of them could resist pulling the other into a tight hug. Their faces drifted just inches apart, their lips drawn to each other like opposing magnets. Adrian put his hand on Chandler’s shoulder, widening the gap between them. Self-control, self-control. It was a hard thing to maintain when his entire body wanted to lose control, especially when he was wrapped up in his arms.

  “No April?” he asked, sliding into the passenger’s seat.

  “Day care,” Chandler replied, firing up the engine. “Thought we should have the day to ourselves. Do some more catching up.”

  “Fine by me,” Adrian said, unable to keep a grin off his face. Getting reacquainted with Chandler’s body in the revealing daylight was exactly what he had in mind.

  Chandler slammed the front door behind them the moment they stepped into the apartment. He grabbed Adrian by the shoulders and pulled him in, their lips crashing together. They stumbled backward towards the bed, hands working feverishly to strip each other as quickly as possible. Chandler’s button-up flew to the floor. Adrian lifted his hands like a man surrendering, and Chandler yanked his shirt off his shoulders. His hungry kisses descended down Adrian’s neck to the valley of his collar bone, and then to the swell of his chest, where he made contact with a firm nipple. Shivers tingled through Adrian’s body, and a moan escaped his lips.

  “Get on the bed,” Chandler growled, and a solid push sent Adrian bouncing onto the mattress. Chandler looked down at him with a stirred up look in his eye. He rubbed the stubble on his chin like he was making an appraisal, and then undid the clasp of his belt buckle.

  Adrian followed suit, hurriedly popping the button of his jeans open and kicking the denim off his ankles. Chandler’s crumpled at his feet. He stepped out of them and proceeded onto the bed, coming over Adrian on his hands and knees. With one hand, Adrian grabbed Chandler around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, their tongues greeting each other before their lips. With his other hand, he reached between Chandler’s thighs and grasped his bulging package.

  Hard and ready to go. He wanted to lay eyes on that gorgeous cock, and not have to wait a minute longer. He stuffed his hand beneath Chandler’s underwear and wrapped his fingers around the prize while their tongues continued to dance. Chandler did Adrian the favor of removing the final barrier, letting himself pop free. Adrian looked down, eager to get a glimpse, and Chandler happily provided one. He rotated around for a bit of sixty-nine, putting everything right in perfect view.

  Adrian felt Chandler’s thumbs slip beneath the waistband of his underwear, and as he opened his mouth to take Chandler’s cock into his mouth, he lifted his hips so that he could strip him bare. Soon they were both connected, their mouths full with the other’s.

  Chandler’s dick pulsed lively as he teased it with his tongue and his lips and his cheeks. It was difficult to keep it inside at times, when the pleasure from Chandler was too great and he couldn’t help but moan. When that happened, he used his hand to satisfy him, and it wasn’t long before he was craving a more intimate connection.

  “Fuck me, Chandler,” Adrian grunted. Chandler didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly got off of him and wrestled him over onto his stomach. Adrian pressed his ass up, waiting. The crinkle of foil. The cool spread of lube on his entrance. Chandler’s palm on his hip. Then pressure—fuck! He balled the sheets up in his fist and punched at the mattress. He’d never get used to that feeling, like being split in half. It was good though. It hurt, but it was a damn good hurt.

  Chandler didn’t take it slow. He fucked him hard and fast, like he’d been aching to do it since the moment they’d said goodnight. Maybe he had.

  With Chandler’s thickness slamming deep into him, Adrian moaned into the pillows and felt himself losing all control.

  There wasn’t anything better than this, he realized. He’d gone for all those years thinking that what they’d had was a fluke, and something easily replaceable given the time. But now, being here with Chandler again, Adrian knew that nothing would ever come close to being this good. Nobody could be as good as Chandler.

  They came almost at the same time. Afterwards, the two men relaxed into each other’s arms in bed. Adrian loved the feeling of Chandler’s broad back pressed against his chest as they cuddled. He wondered if Chandler could feel his heart beating like this.

  “You ever dream about back then?” Adrian asked.

  “What? You mean Iraq?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I used to. All the time,” Chandler said. �
�It was bad. Julia never knew how to handle it. It’s gotten better. Especially with April in my life. You?”

  When Adrian dreamed about Iraq, they usually brought him back to the moments he’d shared with Chandler. Sure, he’d had nightmares, but they’d been few and far between. Knowing this made him feel somewhat guilty. “I do, sometimes,” he said. He decided not to elaborate on the dream he’d had last night.

  “I do miss it, though, sometimes,” Chandler said. “Isn’t that weird? Damn nearly die over there and I fuckin’ miss it, and I don’t know if I could even tell you why.”