by Darien Cox
“Apology more than accepted,” Christian said, nuzzling his neck.
“You know how sexy you are?” Myles whispered in his ear. “You should be outlawed.”
Christian’s breath hitched. “You want me. You really want me, Myles?”
“Now,” Myles huffed. “Everything.”
Easing back, Christian looked at Myles. Brows pinched, his beautiful brown eyes held pure need, and there was no cocky smirk this time, only raw vulnerability. In a flash, the dam broke, and they were on each other, tumbling to the bed, kicking off shoes, stripping items of clothing off between hard, desperate kisses. They wrestled on the mattress to get each other naked, taking no time to linger, just needing to be pressed close, now.
But once they were finally nude, Myles stopped kissing Christian, shifting off of him to simply stare. Christian naked, stretched out, olive skin contrasting with the pale sheets...Myles was in awe, tracing his fingers along the curve of his hip. When his fingers brushed the side of Christian’s hard cock, he groaned, lifting his hips. “Kiss me,” he said. “Get on top of me, Myles.”
Myles rolled on top and as soon as their cocks pressed together he lost control, devouring Christian’s mouth, rutting against him. “How could you have asked...how could I not want you?”
Gaze locked on Myles’, Christian’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, bracing himself as his hips pumped against him. “Fuck!” His eyelids fluttered as they found the perfect rhythm. “You’re too good for me. I was afraid you’d remember that and...” He groaned. “Change your mind about wanting me.”
“You’re fucking crazy, Boucher. No one’s too good for you.” He captured Christian’s mouth and delved his tongue in deep, excitement mounting when Christian began making soft, high-pitched, pleading sounds.
He kept his mouth on Christian’s, licking deep, inhaling his hard breaths. Soon, his own moans harmonized with Christian’s high-pitched sounds. They were both so hard and rutting so violently they kept losing the contact, so Myles reached between them and caught both of their cocks in his fist, holding them together.
Christian’s mouth ripped away. “Shit...Myles...” Christian came fast, shouting Myles’ name, and the sight of him lost in ecstasy triggered Myles’ orgasm. He pumped them both, sharp pleasure ripping through his body, zinging up inside him. He coughed out a cry as he peaked, half-sob, half-laugh.
Mumbling incoherently, Christian held on as Myles released their cocks and gathered him up in his arms. Myles held him as he caught his breath, Christian’s body gleaming with sweat, delicious stickiness where their bellies pressed together. The sex he’d had with Eddie in New Hampshire only days ago seemed a distant memory, a bland, passionless act he was content to wipe from his memory. Sure, the crazed humping with Christian had been clumsy and they’d both come too fast, but it was satisfying and thrilling, because he’d wanted it so damn much.
“Sorry,” Christian said. “That didn’t last long.”
“For me, either. It’s okay.”
“Myles Murphy.” Christian chuckled softly. “I’ve wanted you for two years.”
Myles lifted his head and looked down at Christian, who grinned with his eyes closed. “Two years?”
Christian nodded, eyes opening. “I hid it well?”
“I’ll say. I had no idea. Hope you weren’t...let down.”
Laughing, Christian stroked Myles’ face. “Did me coming in three seconds seem like I was let down? My prior fantasies don’t hold a candle to the real thing.”
Myles drank in the details of Christian’s face, his fingers brushing aside the gold-streaked hair that stuck in sweaty spikes to his forehead. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Did you ever...” Christian’s eyebrows pinched. “Did you ever think of me? That way?”
“I wouldn’t let myself,” Myles said. “Until you came onto me in your basement that night. Once you got the idea in my head though...there was no putting that genie back in the bottle.”
“And now?”
Myles chuckled. “Now I’m the one who’s going to be having fantasies. Probably twenty-four-seven. Going to make it difficult to focus on my job.”
“They don’t have to be fantasies,” Christian said. “Not when you can have the real thing.”
Happiness stole through Myles at the words, and he smiled. “Are you offering to serve at my pleasure?”
Christian shifted onto his side and rested his head on his palm. “I don’t want you to change your mind about me. Decide I’m too complicated.”
“Are you? Complicated?”
“My life can be complicated. And you called yourself a simple man. I get the feeling you don’t like complicated.”
“Christian...I chose to come to this village because it’s quiet, yes. But it’s also a bit strange. Different. Unpredictable. So there’s a part of me that’s drawn to that. And the part of me that’s drawn to you doesn’t want to change you into someone else. I don’t need to know everything about you to know you excite the hell out of me. I think you always have.”
Christian took Myles hand and led it to his own cock, which was already swelling again. “You excite the hell out of me, too.”
Myles kissed Christian, and rolled on top of him again. Determined to get as much of Christian Boucher as he could, and give as much of himself as he could. He wasn’t oblivious to the vague warning in Christian’s sentiments, sensed there was still something kept hidden beneath the surface, something Christian feared would drive Myles away.
But with Christian’s gorgeous body undulating beneath him, that sweet tongue in his mouth, Myles was lost, and willing to take the risk. Eventually, if Christian meant what he’d said and truly wanted to keep this going, Myles knew he’d need more. More truth from Christian. More openness. But for now, tonight, this was enough. More than enough.
Chapter Nine
Ogden sneered at Christian. “Angry nasties?”
“I’m sorry! That’s as close a description I was able to get from Baz. He’s not exactly adept at expressing himself in our language, but I think it got the point across.”
“I like it,” Elliot said. “Sounds like a punk band.”
Ogden moved to Christian’s sofa and sat, groaning as he rubbed his forehead. Wiley stood nearby, stiff and sour as ever. JT had his thinking face on, staring off into space, and Nolan paced the floor.
“This weapon the hybrid told you about,” Wiley said. “When can we have it?”
The moment of truth. Thus far, Christian had told them it was an option—destroying the craft. But hadn’t confessed to having the weapon in his possession. While his instincts told him to trust Baz, his logic won out. The decision wasn’t for Christian alone to make. There was too much at stake, and at the end of the day, this was his job.
Bypassing Wiley, he walked over and stood before Ogden. Wrapped in tissue, he pulled the gray eraser-looking thing out of his pocket, and handed it to Ogden.
Ogden unwrapped the tissue and stared at the gray thing. He looked up at Christian. “You’ve had this the whole time we’ve been speaking?”
“So? I had to explain what it was, didn’t I?”
“Let me see that,” Wiley said.
“Just...hang on a minute, Wiley.” Ogden held a hand up. “You heard Christian, it’s very delicate.”
“I wasn’t going to bite into it,” Wiley said. “We’re not buying this story, are we?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” JT asked, stepping forward.
“I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Wiley said to JT, and Christian had to clench his fists to keep from reaching out and slapping Wiley across the face. The guy was such a prick.
“What is it you’re not believing?” JT asked calmly, unruffled. “That there are two aliens inside the craft, or that they’ll become a threat if you move it?”
Wiley shook his head. “For all your hybrid’s talk of agreements and the Whites not wanting to get on our bad side again, they conveniently bypassed the more obvious threat her
e. Like sleight of hand.”
“What do you mean?” Nolan asked.
“He means,” Ogden said, “that we now know the Whites have enemies. Enemies who by their own word, tried to infiltrate their base by planting themselves in this village. They neglected to make that point. This means their very presence in those mountains is a threat to the people who live here.”
“Exactly,” Wiley said. “Instead they tried to distract Christian with all that ‘we’re your buddy’ talk, so we’d think they’re doing us a big favor here.”
“So we should just ignore what they said?” JT moved toward Wiley.
“I think if the Whites are asking us to kill for them, we should get something in return,” Wiley said. “Tech. Medicine. Something.”
“They won’t do that,” Christian said. “They don’t trust us, they think we’re idiots, they’re not gonna give us tech. They’re framing this as a favor because they’ve just told us the inhabitants of that craft could be a danger to us. They’ve given us a warning, and the means to extinguish the threat. They likely figure they’re already giving us something back.”
“We’re not assassins,” Wiley said. “We have no motivation to do this for them.”
“But what if it’s true?” Christian said. “That if you move that craft you might...unleash something. Is it so impossible that the Whites actually are trying to protect us, despite having their own agenda?”
“They’re using us,” Nolan said. “They want us to kill two of their enemies without getting their hands dirty, using the tactic that it’s in our best interest. We have no idea what we could be unleashing by carrying out their wishes. The Whites think we’re stupid, and I guess compared to them we are. But they’re counting on us being stupid in this scenario. I say the risks are too great.”
“So what then?” JT said. “Keep the craft here, within their perimeter so it won’t unseal? Bury it deep underground and forget about it?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Elliot said.
Ogden frowned at Elliot. “Yes, it is! We don’t just bury something of this magnitude because we’re afraid to deal with it. That’s exactly what the Whites want. For us to be afraid.”
“It’s working,” Elliot said. He raised his hand. “Afraid here.”
“We have to consider that the Whites are lying to us,” Ogden said. “We have absolutely, positively, no reason to believe a word they’re saying. We could slap this weapon on the craft, and it could activate a bigger weapon to obliterate us. We have no way of knowing.”
“I trust Baz,” Christian said.
“So do I,” JT added.
“That’s sweet,” Wiley said. “But you said yourselves that Baz isn’t held in very high esteem among his colleagues. They see him as a lesser being. They could be using him, too.”
“Why would they do that?” Christian said. “They only want to be left alone to use this planet as a midway point in their travels. We’ve left them alone for three months. Why would they want to attack us now? What would that achieve? It would be detrimental to their motives.”
“But what if they aren’t lying?” Elliot said, looking at Ogden. “You still gonna move the craft?”
Ogden and Wiley exchanged a look.
“You are,” Christian said.
“It’s the only way to properly examine it,” Ogden said. “And beyond that, the people Wiley and I answer to want it, and they want it now. They don’t care how we give it to them, or what problems we have to solve to do so. They need to know what that craft is and if there’s anything inside it. We’re not gonna bury it in the sand.”
“And if something’s still alive in there?” JT said. “Something that manages to open the thing up during your travels?”
“We’ll have it under guard the entire time.”
“You can’t!” Christian said. “Baz said these others are dangerous, that they could hurt you. You’re just gonna assume you can handle whatever crawls out of that thing with the weapons you have? That’s pretty stupid.”
“Watch your tone, Christian,” Ogden said. “We’ll obviously take all that into account, then make our decision.”
“But if you see your hybrid friend again,” Wiley said to Christian, “ask him if the Whites have any suggestions on how to defend ourselves against these...”
“Angry nasties.” Elliot grinned.
“They already told you how to defend against them,” Christian said. “Destroy the craft.”
“That’s not our favorite option,” Ogden said. “Wiley and I need to go to another meeting. Sit tight. And don’t go near the craft. My soldiers have been ordered to stay outside the boathouse for the time being.”
Christian was livid. He’d had to go down to the marina early that morning to set customers up who wanted to take their boats out. Business as usual, but with a pair of mad aliens trapped in a space ship twenty yards away. If Baz was telling the truth. Was Baz telling the truth? He clearly had to answer to the Whites, just like Christian was duty-bound to Ogden. Would Baz lie for the Whites? Would he even know if he was?
But Baz had tried to lie to Christian, claiming he knew nothing about the others that crashed into the lake. When Christian called him out on it, made him look Christian in the eye, Baz had crumbled and told the truth. It didn’t seem as though deception was in the hybrid’s nature.
“We’re heading out,” Ogden said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Wait a second, Odgen. I have to go finish setting up for the pig roast,” JT said. “People will start coming down to the beach soon. Should I cancel it?”
“You better not!” Elliot said. “I’ve been looking forward to it for months.”
“Have the pig roast,” Ogden said. “I don’t want the Whites to see us panicking. Go about your business as usual, and we’ll be in touch when we have some news.”
Ogden and Wiley made a hasty exit, leaving the four of them standing around in Christian’s living room.
Nolan stopped pacing and sat in one of the chairs. “So what do we think about all this?”
“For once,” Elliot said, “I wish Michelle were here to remind us we should just shut up and do what we’re told.” Nolan scowled, and Elliot glanced at him. “Sorry, Nolan.”
“For what? I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
“Should I try to talk to Baz?” Christian asked. “They’re not gonna listen, they’re going to move that craft out of here, you know they are.”
“You could,” JT said. “Ask him if there’s another option.”
Christian threw his arms up. “What if there is no other option?”
“There’s always another option,” Nolan said. “The Whites have asked us to participate in a joint military operation, fucked up as it is. There has to be negotiation and information sharing, otherwise it’s just them dictating to us.”
“I’m gonna go try to...summon Baz,” Christian said. “Then I’ll pick up Cuervo and meet you guys on the beach.”
“The dog or the tequila?” Elliot asked.
Christian smiled at him. “The dog. JT won’t serve Cuervo at the pig roast, he’s too snobby.”
“There are so many better tequilas!” JT said. “If you’d just try them.”
Christian stopped himself when his body automatically started toward JT. He was used to giving JT a peck on the cheek when he left, but remembering his conversation with Rudy, he headed for the door instead. “See you guys at the pig roast.”
“Tell Baz we said hi!” JT called out.
“I will.”
Christian decided to walk down to the woods near Myles’ house rather than driving. Without the regular climbs up the mountain, he hadn’t been getting enough exercise. And it gave him time to think, to clear his head, and decide how to approach things with Baz.
But he found his thoughts were on Myles instead. He was walking on air after last night. He kept getting flashbacks and smiling. One day, he hoped, it would be Myles whose cheek he’d be kissing when
he left a room. He’d not felt this way about someone in years. But he wanted it. He’d be cautious, and respect Myles’ boundaries, no rushing him or pushing him into something he wasn’t ready for. But Christian wanted it, badly.
And he hoped like hell that Myles wanted it too.
****
After a quiet morning in the village, Myles headed home to grab a quick lunch. The village would be more active this afternoon, with the amusement park opening and the pig roast on the beach at Warden’s Boathouse Pub. It was an annual thing, and last year he’d only had a few minor problems to deal with as a result. The villagers were usually pretty mellow and respectful of each other, but when people were drinking, particularly during the day, things tended to happen. So he’d head down to the boardwalk area this afternoon, and he and Darwyn would keep an eye on things.
He drove down the narrow road and was nearly to his house when something caught his eye. To the right, about twenty feet into the woods, a glimpse of a figure, heading deeper into the forest. Myles scowled as he pulled into his driveway. Was that Christian? He questioned whether he’d become so consumed by Christian Boucher that he was literally starting to see him behind every tree. But even with the quick glimpse, something registered. The striped tee shirt, red and white. He’d seen Christian wear it before. The set of his shoulders as he walked.
He supposed it could have been Christian. Going for a hike? But why down here? Right near Myles’ house. There were plenty of better places to hike, and he was certain Christian knew them all. He got out of the car and closed the door, staring off into the woods. Shaking his head, he went inside and made a sandwich.
After finishing, he sat down and drank a root-beer, but still couldn’t shake it. That glimpse of Christian, if it was Christian, heading into the woods. It was odd. Christian had spent the night, and it had been amazing. Myles wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. But he still couldn’t figure out why Christian would be walking through the woods, so close to Myles’ home. He lived three miles away.
“Fuck it.” Myles set his dish in the sink, and headed out the door. He wanted to see if Christian was still out there. Though he might be risking interrupting a contemplative, solo hike, he wanted to see him. It was likely he’d see Christian at the pig roast today, but they wouldn’t be alone, and Myles was on duty.
