In His Sights (Don't Tell) (9 page)

BOOK: In His Sights (Don't Tell)
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His name was Aryck and he’d sat across the campfire from me one night, grinning widely. “Remember me, son?”

“Yes, sir. I’m glad to see you made it.” I’d been on the verge of killing him.

“I’m glad to see you figured out common sense is more to your likin’ than brute force.”

We shared a handshake and that was that. Hawke’s group was a mixed bag of young and old, each with their own specific skill. They lived and worked harmoniously together for the most part. Aside from the sound of their talk and laughter, the birds and other forest creatures, it was almost peaceful out here in the middle of the Wilderness. But worry niggled at me. Their acceptance of a corpsman seemed far too easy to be copacetic even though I never sensed a true threat.

Every early evening when we stopped for the night, I took the hunting detail with Hawke. I wanted him alone. Tonight he tracked a deer, his sight keen, his steps silent after finally ditching the walking stick. His shirt hung from the waist of his pants, dragging them lower over muscles rippling with each step. A light sheen of perspiration made his back shimmer as each sinew tensed. He notched an arrow. It was the first time I’d seen him use such a weapon. His expert handling of the bow knocked the breath from me and I groaned.

The deer crashed away from us.

Hawke slung the bow across his back, turning to me. “You scared it off.”

“I—”

“Jesus, Mayce. You’re blushing?” He stalked closer and I stood as still as the deer had before him. “You know what that does to me? Seein’ my sexy soldier tongue-tied.”

Licking my lips, I stood my ground. “No.”

His smile was slow and wicked. “Makes me fuckin’ hard.” His eyes gleamed as his chest pressed against me.

His erection, thick and solid, rubbed mine. His lips dragged across my mouth. His tongue trailed slickness and heat until I moaned at his teasing touch that was so quick to fire me up and never enough to quench the flames.

“Seein’ me with an arrow, frettin’ it…pulling it tight…that does it for you?”

My cock almost exploded in my pants. I grabbed his long ponytail of dreads and twisted it around my knuckles. “You do it for me.”

Finally his tongue stole into my mouth. He pushed me up to a tree, the bark biting my bare back. Grinding against me, Hawke slipped his hands down my chest, working my pants open. His goatee skimmed my neck, making me crazy with lust. I held onto him with both hands gripping the muscles of his shoulders.

“Oh! Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Birdie’s high voice cut like glass through the erotic haze.

She stood a couple meters away from us. Her plump cheeks blazed and her eyes brightened with laughter as she clasped a hand over her mouth.

I beat my head against the tree. “Fuuuuck.”

Hawke laughed at me, doing up my pants and laying a kiss on my shoulder. “Next time.”

I’d be crawling out of my skin by the time
next time
arrived.
Shit.

* * * *

The night before we expected to reach Shoals commune, I cleaned up more carefully than usual. There was a lake nearby our small clearing, and I walked there alone. The water was cool, fresh, invigorating. I soaped up, shaved, even washed the clothes I’d been wearing; the Corps shirt and dark blue trousers of my old uniform, my old life. I wondered what existence on the commune would entail for me. I wasn’t exactly cut out to be a farmer or a fisherman. Fighting and staying alive were all I’d ever known.

I left the clean clothes to dry for a bit and dug through my pack for a spare set. Not wanting to arouse suspicion the last time I’d left my barracks, I’d brought very little with me. Extra boots and socks, a book that had belonged to my mother, and of course, the ever-present blanket. Weapons and ammo, and that was it. I didn’t need much else, just Hawke.

During the last leg of our journey southwest, the dense forest and wooded hills gave way to low-lying lands and swampy marsh. My palm was damp against Hawke’s when we approached the commune the next afternoon. Fear that his people would hate me, spurn me, and make me turn away from my love created a large rolling ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

The open expanse of land made me just as nervous. Shoals was so far away from the nearest Territory they didn’t have any boundary walls, just a wooden watchtower from which gunfire crackled, announcing our arrival…or aiming at me. Something shivered across my shoulders. I brushed it off, growling.

“It’s Spanish moss, babe.”

“I don’t like it.” I held his hand harder.

His fingers squeezed mine as he kissed my cheek. “They aren’t gonna hurt you, you’ll see.”

I’d fought in battles that caused less tension than this. By the time we were walking down the dirt road leading to the middle of the commune, my shoulders were stiff, my jaw clenching uncontrollably. The commotion around the main square nearly deafened me after several weeks of near solitude and quiet. Warriors returning alive—perhaps not victorious but definitely not defeated—was cause for a celebration. I watched in awe as the villagers unfurled red ribbons from their hands to wave in the air, their shouts rising up:
Live in freedom! Love at will!

The sheer number of people boggled my mind. They converged for hugs and congratulations. Buildings flanked the scene, well made, speaking of a thriving populace that had their own system, their own way of life.

I took the knocks on my chest and the slaps to my back, wondering when the hate would come for a CO corpsman, the born-and-bred enemy.

“Ma, Dad, this is Mayce.” Hawke held me firmly beside him in front of a couple who were a cross between Freelander and Territorian. “Mayce, these are my folks, Greta and Bane.”

Tall and slim as a whipcord, his mother appeared more cool and less homespun than most of the others. She approached me and her aloof visage melted into such a warm, extraordinary smile I couldn’t help but smile back. “You brought him home.” Greta took me in her arms.

I drew back awkwardly. It’d been a long time since I’d felt a mother’s hug. “Not really, ma’am. He wouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place if wasn’t for me.”

“Nonsense, son.” His father stepped forward after grabbing Hawke in his thick arms. “Word got here before you did. We know about your heroics, and what you gave up for our boy.” He pumped my hand vigorously, blond and broad and leaking tears of relief.

“Besides, Hawke has a reputation for getting himself stuck in tight places.” His mom broke into a grin directed at me.

I blushed violently and Hawke guffawed, “Holy shit, Ma!”

She hugged him close. “Don’t screw it up, sweet boy. Not if he saved you.”

“He did.” Hawke’s gaze found mine. His arm around my waist cinched me closer.

I brushed my lips against his ear. “You saved me.”

Bane cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “Right, well. We’re lucky to have you, Mayce. Soldiers are always welcome, especially those with inside information. And uh, you boys know about being safe and—”

Greta winked and pulled him away. “Okay dear, I don’t think they need the birds and the bees talk at their age…”

Through dinner and the ongoing revelry, I remained all bluster and brusqueness, unable to completely relax and let loose. It seemed to amuse Hawke no end. He wouldn’t let me hide. He wouldn’t let me run. He even flat out kissed me in front of everyone until I was delirious, and there were even more cheers that eventually made us pull away from one another.

I’d been iffy about this whole thing, wondering where I’d fit in. Throughout the night I got it. I belonged to Hawke, and he to me. This was a place where we could be together, two men, lovers, without the fear of being hunted down and strung up.

When my eyelids felt heavy and my sight spun from fatigue, Hawke pulled me away from the town hall where the partying continued. “Let’s get you to bed, babe.”

If bed meant him in it with no onlookers or anyone within hearing range, I was all for it. He took my hand, guiding me along twisting narrow trails that distanced us from the hubbub of the village. I smelled salty air and heard a wet crashing sound close by. Between the trees, a sliver of beach shimmered before my vision, waves rolling ashore. A long line of caravans hugged the verge of the forest where woods became the wide-open world of the Gulf.

Stopping in front of a set of warped wooden steps that lead to the door of a bullet-shaped contraption, Hawke said, “This is it.”

“This is it what? A tin can?”

“My caravan.” He tugged my hand. “We call it rustic.”

“I call it tiny.”

“Don’t be an ass.” He opened the door and ducked inside.

“I’m not. Too busy looking at yours.”

I stepped in after him. It was small without doubt, but my barracks room wasn’t much bigger a lot less inviting. Hawke’s place was homey, well cared for. The two rooms told of life, Hawke’s life. Books lined the walls and polished weapons gleamed from built-in shelves. His bed was low to the floor and large in front of a window he must’ve cut into the metal hull of the caravan himself because it ran almost the entire length of one side, providing an unending view of the ocean outside.

“No running water, no electrics.” He lit a few candles, standing uncertainly in front of me.

“I don’t care about any of that.” His striking face highlighted by candlelight made me ever aware of the bed behind me. “Come here.”

I undressed him slowly. I checked his wounds one last time and massaged them with salve. I snuggled him in blankets and slid naked next to him. Exhausted from the trip, the mindless torture he’d undergone, he fell asleep in a tangle of our arms and legs. I never got my homecoming fuck, but holding him in my arms where we were finally safe was just as good. Bathed in moonlight from the big window, Hawke simply glowed. Pale eyelashes skimmed his cheeks, his goatee rubbed my chest. He’d gone from enemy to warrior to lover to my only love. I listened to his even breaths, the perfect accompaniment to the surf outside.

I kissed his brow tenderly, never pulling him from his first peaceful dreams. “I love you, Hawke.”

Later, hot lips pressed against the nape of my neck woke me up. It was still dark, the candles burned low. Hawke’s body was molded against my back. His hand loosely circled the rigid steel bar of my cock. I turned my face aside to see him. His eyes were low, hooded, his lips pink and hungry looking. We exchanged a long deep kiss, our tongues spiraling and chasing. His cock nestled between my buttocks, a hot heavy weight I wanted sliding inside me.

Thrusting through the slack ring of his fingers, I groaned.

“This what you needed, baby?”

I couldn’t speak, just nod, all the while pressing my lips to any part of his skin I could reach. His neck, his ear, his chin and the golden whiskers. I panted with mounting arousal, needing more contact than the teasing glide of his fist, but he held me caged against him, wickedly holding me back from my orgasm.

When he started rocking against me with more force and whimpering in low moans, I knew he’d be coming soon. I closed my eyes to soak in the fingers tracing my chest, the mouth kissing my shoulder, the palm rolling over the tip of my cock. His hand moved away for a moment to lift my upper thigh enough he could slip his long cock between my legs. Then he was back to fisting me slowly as he pumped against my ass and along the taut dam of muscle. His engorged silky head butted against my sacs and his breath rushed across my cheek.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, Hawke. Come on my balls.”

He gave a strangled groan. Hot ejaculate poured all over my testes, thighs and ass. He scooped some up, his breath ragged, hips still pumping. He used his seed to make a moist circle for me to fuck through. His come-coated fingers tightened each time he reached the head of my cock.

“Let it go,” he whispered.

I grunted, shooting all over myself and the bed, gasping for air.

“Better?” he asked.


Mmm
.” I mumbled, scooting back with him still plastered around me. “Wet spot.”

He chuckled and nuzzled the nape of my neck. “G’night, babe.”

* * * *

In the morning, Hawke jostled me awake with a pounce.

I squinted as I tossed a pillow at him. “You’re wet.”

“I had a wash.” Wriggling like a sleek wet puppy, he was damp, tawny, and delicious.

“You like being home.”

“Fuck that.” He tussled the sheet aside, splaying strong hands on my abs. “I like being with you and free to do whatever we want.”

I locked my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, thrusting up. My cock never went limp in his presence. “What do you want to do now?” I hooked an eyebrow at him.

He was already dressed but he ground down slowly on me before disentangling from my embrace. “To take you to the beach.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Did I need a tattoo on my ass reading
fuck me now
? His lighthearted energy was infectious, so even though I grumbled to myself, I went along with him. I ate breakfast beside him in the dining hall, barely tasting the food. My skin was tight all over, on fire. Hawke didn’t help, the devious bastard. His hand stayed on my leg, fingers almost straying to my erection but never quite while he kept up a steady stream of small talk with the others at our table.

By the time we reached the beach, taking a different path than the one that meandered to the caravans, I was totally wound up with the tingling need to touch Hawke. But my first real sight of the Gulf made me forget about my haste to get him naked. Aside from glimpses last night and this morning, this was my first view of any large body of water. It was majestic. Unspoiled. Stretching as far as the eye could see, pale white sand met the aqua blue water reflecting the unclouded sky above, and we were luxuriously alone.

I stood gaping beside Hawke. “It looks like it never ends.”

“Kinda makes you wonder…”

“Wonder what?” I expected him to break out into some philosophical gem he occasionally spouted off.

“Who’s gonna be the last one in!” Whipping off his shirt, he snapped my ass with it.

With a laugh, I snatched the shirt from his hands, throwing it behind me. I pulled off my clothes. The bastard was fast on his feet again, getting naked before me and racing into the water. I had just enough time to see why he was bronze all over. He probably spent days out here nude. I was instantly hard. Fuck, from the broad well-built chest to the long muscular legs, that sinful ass, he was absolutely mouthwatering.

BOOK: In His Sights (Don't Tell)
8.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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