Whiteout Conditions Black Ops Heroes #10
By Dara Nelson (writing as Kendel Duncan)
Acknowledgements
For my readers – I do this for you, always.
For my beta readers – You ladies are the anchor that keeps me from drifting out to sea.
For Andrick, Jason, and Wulf – thank you for helping me keep things real
And for T&J – thank you for your love, your friendship, your laughter and, yes, your inspiration. You are both family now, whether you want to be or not. Love you.
Drake Malone: Black Ops Heroes #1
Storm Clouds Ahead: Black Ops Heroes #2
Hurricane Force Winds: Black Ops Heroes #3
When Tornadoes Collide: Black Ops Heroes #4
Hazardous Weather Conditions: Black Ops Heroes #5
Wind Chill Less Than Zero: Black Ops Heroes #6
Dense Fog with No Visibility: Black Ops Heroes #7
Severe Side Winds Ahead: Black Ops Heroes #8
Thunderstorms on the Horizon: Black Ops Heroes #9
Blackbird Fly Home: Doyle Global Securities #1
Finding my Way Home: Doyle Global Securities #2
https://www.facebook.com/DaraNelsonsBooks
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Published by Dara Nelson / Kendel Duncan
Whiteout Conditions© Copyright 2018 by Dara Nelson / Kendel Duncan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without written permission from the author except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. If you enjoyed this book, please recommend it to your friends and give positive feedback on Amazon & Goodreads. And I encourage you to reach out to me with your feedback on my website http://www.daranelson.com
I’d love to hear from you!
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Warning – Contains adult subject matter, including graphic language and A LOT of male/male sex. It is NOT suitable for younger readers – parental discretion is advised.
Cover Design by: Dara Nelson
Cover Photo: Dan Skinner
Table of Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Epilogue
Prologue
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Sylas’s fingers shook as he brought his hands up to grip the top of his steering wheel. He was trying to stop himself from restarting his car, backing out of the parking space and going home.
Home was safe.
Home was dark.
Home was…….lonely.
That’s why he was here, right?
He’d been seeing Cece for eight months now. At first, she’d come to his place, then they started doing Skype sessions as she tried to convince him to venture to her office for their chats, as she called them.
Today was the first time in almost a year that he’d actually left the house.
Panic had his forehead sweating, his pulse pounding. His head started to shake side to side, “Nope. Can’t do it,” he mumbled.
He shifted in his seat to turn the key in the ignition when something in his rearview mirror caught his eye. Something big, like fucking huge. He had no clue what the face looked like that was attached to the body walking towards his car but, at the moment he really didn’t care.
“Damn,” he mumbled as he watched that deep blue pinstripe suit sauntering closer. The suit jacket was unbuttoned, giving Sylas teasing glimpses of the firm torso barely hidden beneath the white button-up shirt. The thighs bulged with every step the man took. Those thick legs were spread slightly and as Sylas’ eyes dropped a bit, he could see why.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered as he saw the outline of a thick, long cock bouncing from side to side on the man’s left thigh, like the arm of a metronome. No wonder the guy had to spread his legs. And he was commando. Damn. If his cock was that big it probably meant he had some big, ripe juicy balls that he was forced to make room for too.
Suddenly being out in public didn’t seem so bad.
The man stopped next to Sylas’ car, with that bulge perfectly framed in Sylas’ mirror.
As Sylas touched the button to lower his window, his brain to mouth filter disappeared. “I know it says objects in mirror are larger than they appear but damn, dude,” he said.
The man chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that flowed over Sylas like liquid chocolate. “You here to see Dr. Peele?”
“I think so?” he mumbled, his nerves re-appearing despite the hunk of man standing next to him.
The man pulled a phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear, “Hey, Brenda. Are there any patients in the waiting room? No? Good. Tell Cece her next appointment will be up shortly.”
The man returned his phone to his pocket.
“The only thing standing between you and her is that door and a receptionist,” the man said.
Sylas stared at the office door.
Could he do this?
“I promise things will feel better, Quattro.”
Sylas frowned, “Quattro?”
“Don’t know your name so I went with the car you’re in.”
Sylas smirked as he glanced into his rearview mirror again to see the sleek, black, powerful car parked behind him that blue suit had emerged from. “Well, to be honest, there are three things standing in my way.”
“Three?”
“Yep. That door, a receptionist,” he said as he pointed his finger over his steering wheel, “And your ginormous package, Mustang.”
The guy snorted a laugh that Sylas found completely adorable…and hot as fuck. Mustang took a step back so Sylas could open his door – which he did, surprising even himself.
He stood to his feet turned around and dragged his eyes slowly up blue suit guy’s body until, yep, that was a gasp, because staring back at him with a grin on his face, with perfect white teeth, and dark, sexy stubble covering his chin and perfect jaw, high cheekbones with lickable dimples, strong eyebrows and light green eyes that were full of mischief and…..understanding - was easily the most beautiful man that Sylas Thorne had ever seen.
Oddly, he felt like he’d follow this man anywhere, and that shocked the shit out of him. If this man asked him for anything, Sylas didn’t think he’d ever be able to tell him no.
Well that was new�
��.and different.
“I’m,” the man started to say but Sylas held up his hand.
“No, don’t ruin the fantasy, not yet, Mustang.”
The man’s grin got even bigger, “You ready?”
“For you? Absolutely,” Sylas said with a grin and a wink.
He was shocked to hear the man do a quick inhale, almost as if what Sylas had said had…..turned him on? That wasn’t possible, was it?
“Come on, Quattro. Let’s get you to Cece.”
Mustang walked Sylas inside, his hand not touching but hovering close enough to Sylas’ lower back that he could feel the heat emanating from it.
He walked Sylas past the receptionist, nodding slightly, “Hello, Brenda,” he said as they walked by.
He knocked and opened Cece’s office door and then turned to go, leaving Sylas standing in the doorway desperate to keep the man close somehow.
“Will I see you again, Mustang?” he whispered.
Mustang walked to the office next door, smiled and tapped the name tag on it, “I’ll be around, Quattro, I’ll definitely be around,” he said and then he disappeared inside. When the door closed, Sylas’ heart was pounding in his chest as he read the name:
Dr. Grainger Peele.
Brother of Cecilia Peele.
And the man who, Sylas knew without a doubt, was not only his new obsession but his one true goal.
He would get better.
He had to. He had no choice now.
He’d met his future, he’d met ...him.
Somehow, he would find a way to become a man worthy of one Grainger Peele.
One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grainger
Grainger wasn’t sure how he kept the trembling out of his voice especially considering he was shaking like a leaf.
He closed his office door and leaned back against it, head tilted back, eyes closed.
Thank fucking god he was wearing a suit today. If he hadn’t been wearing the jacket, Quattro would’ve easily seen the erection that he had been forced to surreptitiously adjust when Quattro was climbing out of his car, and which was now trying to poke out of the waistband of his slacks. As it was, it’d been hard enough, pun intended, to hide it with the jacket not being buttoned. But, with a few discreet tugs on the suit jacket with either hand as he moved, he somehow managed to keep it covered.
But what the fuck was he supposed to do about it now?
The damn thing was alive in his pants, his blood still thrumming through his veins, as if it knew that Quattro was right next door. Hell, his dick was practically demanding that he go all ‘kool-aid man’ and bust through the fucking wall.
And his brain was almost on board with that idea too.
What the fuck was happening to him?
Grainger Peele never did anything reckless. He didn’t drink until he was of age, which was younger in London than here in the states, but still. When all of his mates were off getting pissed when they were teens, he always made excuses and stayed home.
He never missed school unless he was truly ill.
He got straight A’s – always.
Graduated top of his class at Yale after he and his sister had moved to the states.
Worked very hard to minimize his accent, not because he was ashamed of it but because he didn’t want people to have different first-impressions of him simply because of the accent.
It still came out, occasionally, but only when he was stressed or a little buzzed.
He planned out everything in his life, including the fact that he planned to be happily married by thirty-five, a parent before forty.
He spent hours, hell, even months sometimes, researching on the internet before he made any major purchase – be it a car, vacation property, his home, appliances, cell phone – it didn’t matter what it was, nothing was ever purchased on a whim.
But somehow the man he had just met in the parking lot, a man whose name he didn’t even fucking know yet - he just called him Quattro because of the kind of car he drove - threw all of Grainger’s self-imposed rules out the fucking window.
Because he knew exactly what he was going to do – even though he knew it was wrong, that it was unethical, that it meant that he was losing his ever-living mind, he still knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
The phone on his desk buzzed and then Brenda’s voice came through, “Grainger?”
“Yes?”
“Robyn is here for her ten o’clock.”
Grainger glanced down sadly at his neglected hard dick.
“Send her in,” he said on a sigh.
He made his way around his desk, sat in his chair and had to physically push his dick down with a grimace in order to be able to slide his chair in and hide the damn thing under the desk.
Then he pasted on his best, most proper smile and watched as Robyn opened the door and made her way to the couch.
“Hey, doc,” she mumbled as she collapsed down onto it.
“Hi, yourself. You seem rather melancholy today. How are you doing?”
She studied her fingernails as she shrugged, “Eh. So-so, I guess. Had a rough couple of days.”
“Oh? How so?”
They talked for their scheduled thirty minutes and Grainger focused on her, he really did – even if he did have one ear peeled, listening for his sister’s office door to open.
When their time was done, his dick, thankfully, had finally given up its fight and deflated enough that he felt comfortable enough to walk Robyn to the door.
He stepped out into the shared waiting room and frowned when he saw his sister’s door was still closed.
“Is that still the same appointment?” he said to Brenda.
She nodded, “She always schedules a cushion when she sees him, just in case he needs more time.”
“Oh,” he whispered as he frowned at the door.
Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to walk in there, pull Quattro into his arms and whisper in his ear that everything was going to be alright.
He didn’t even know the man, didn’t know why he was seeing his sister but none of that seemed to matter to his brain.
All he seemed to want to do was hold the man in his arms and protect him.
He slid his fingers through his thick black hair.
“I, um, I need a few minutes with her when she’s done.”
“Oh, uh, sure. Do you want me to buzz you?”
Grainger glanced at his own office. He should go back inside. He should close the door. He should eliminate any temptation he had when it came to the man inside.
Instead he found himself dropping into the nearest chair that faced Cece’s office door as he mumbled, “I’ll wait here.”
He could feel Brenda’s eyes on him as she frowned.
He knew how out of character this was for him.
But he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He picked up a magazine and began thumbing through it, never paying attention to anything inside, he was just busying himself as he waited for…..
The voices on the other side of the door grew louder as they approached. Cece was saying something to Quattro that made him smile so sweetly as she ushered him out.
“Thursday?” she said.
He nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Here?” she said with a raised eyebrow.
Quattro tensed up, “Oh, I’m not sure if I’m ready,” he froze as he glanced around and his eyes met Grainger’s, “Um, on second thought, maybe I can do this. Here. Yes, here,” he said as his eyes stayed locked on Grainger.
Grainger dipped his head in a slight nod, letting Quattro know that he was glad he was coming back.
With what almost looked like physical pain, Quattro tore his eyes away from Grainger and looked at his sister, “See you Thursday,” he said and then he turned, and with one final quick glance, he fled out the door.
Grainger watched every step the man took until he couldn’t see him anymore.<
br />
When his eyes finally made their way back to his sister, her arms were crossed and she was frowning with one eyebrow up. That was never a good sign.
He pushed to his feet, “A moment please?”
She stepped back and let him inside.
He fell into the chair on the other side of her desk with a thump and a sigh.
“What has gotten into you? Are you ill?”
“I think I might be, especially after you hear my request.”
“Request? Well, out with it, twit.”
He smiled at her slip. Her accent was mostly gone too, except when she was angry.
“Tell me his name.”
She looked confused for a moment but then she gasped, “Are you bloody crazy?”
He leaned forward onto his knees and gripped his head in his hands. “I think maybe I am, but sis?” he whispered as he glanced up at her, “I’m going to marry that man. How can I do that if I don’t even know his bloody name?
Two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grainger
“You’ve lost your bloody mind,” Cece said as she stared at her brother.
Marry?
How the fuck could he possibly know that?
“Grainger, I……”
Grainger held up his hand, “No sis, don’t. Forget that I asked,” he said as he pushed up from his chair and walked to the door.
Just before he pulled it open, “He’ll be back on Thursday, you did hear that, right?”
“Yes, I did. And I’ll be waiting for him. Thank you, Sis.”
He mentally kicked himself the whole way to his office.
What had he been thinking? He was a doctor too, for fucks sake. He knew about ethics and oaths and all of that. This was not a doctor to doctor request. How could he ask his sister to violate those laws for personal reasons?
Maybe he was losing his fucking mind.
He scrubbed his hand over his face and leaned back, closing his eyes.
“Bloody hell,” he mumbled
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sylas
He walked into his basement apartment with a weird feeling. He frowned as he tried to figure out what it was.
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