Me? I was called Rocket for any number of reasons. I was fast as fuck, and I flew by the seat of my pants on the regular.
We’d been with our team for two weeks when we’d finally gone wheels up. Which was also just a few days after the night Carly took us home.
Or did we takeherhome?
I mean, she’d driven, but it was Adam’s place, and we’d both fucked her. Or rather, Adam had fucked her while I watched. I mean, yeah, Carly had sucked my cock like a pro, which most of the women I’d let down there sucked at—and not in a good way—but she hadn’t been my focus.
Not in the fucking least. No matter how good she was at giving head, neither she nor the orgasm that hit me could have distracted me from the sight of Adam DuBois blowing his load, even if Carly had been on the receiving end.
If I was honest with myself—and I’d promised myself I was done denying who and what I was—I’d been attracted to Adam the moment I’d laid eyes on him.
He was so fucking gorgeous. When we’d first met nearly four years ago, the towers hadn’t come down, and we were both scrawny-ass little shits entirely out of our element on our way to hand our lives over to the United States Government.
I thought that would be the defining moment of my life. But I was wrong—so damn wrong. The moment I saw Adam, my soul recognized him, and any thought of anyone else took a backseat on the spare bus that had broken down at least half a mile back.
Adam DuBois was my person. My other half. I was just the unlucky bastard whose soulmate was straight. At least, I thought so. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell kept me from being positive.
The longer I thought about that night with Carly, the more I remembered Adam staring into my eyes as he came.
What if I’m wrong? What if he’s not straight?
CHAPTER 5
ADAM
SUMMER 2009
The only easyday was yesterday.
Some might have thought yesterday wasn’t easy. I was a POW, but I’d made it through the day alive. I’d lived to fight another day. That was what mattered.
I wasn’t so sure about the person they’d dragged out of the box next to me that first day. At least, I assumed it was a box next to me. There was a distinct sound of metal gliding on metal like when I had been shoved into this fucking box.
I was lying down, my arms folded behind my head, my knees bent so I’d fit inside my dog crate. It was the best way to describe the metal box they’d shoved me into. The front portion of the box was so fucking hot during the day. It had to be sitting out in the open with the sun hitting it from sunup to sundown. There wasn’t any other way for it to be that fucking hot. It was only the first few feet from the door, though. The rest was hot inside the box, but the metal itself wasn’t hot to the touch.
Stuck inside this box for what I believed to be a week, I had nothing to keep me occupied. Other than the times they came for me. The times they tortured me. I didn’t let that shit into mymind. So whenever they popped up, I pushed them out of my mind.
I had to keep the good shit in my head. I couldn’t allow them to break me. That meant I had to find other things to keep my mind occupied. The thing was, there was nothing but thoughts of what I might lose if I never made it back home to right the fuck-ups I’d made.
SPRING 2004
My cock was hard as fucking rock. Nestled up against something soft and warm. The body spooned in front of me felt soft and lush, but the one under my hand wasn’t.
My eyes popped open. Sunlight streamed through the blinds that hadn’t been closed the night before. The brightness pierced my skull, burning a hole through my head into my brain.
I blinked several times until my eyes adjusted to the light. When things finally settled into place and I no longer felt like the sun had taken up residence in my head, shock filled me.
Holy fucking shit!
I was in bed with Brock. My hand gripped his thigh just below his fucking ass. And my dick was half-hard.
What the fucking hell?
A soft sigh came from between him and me. I looked down and saw a mane of dark curly hair covering a girl’s face whereshe had it pressed into Brock’s thick, hairy chest. Her hand was curled under her chin, twisted in his chest hair.
Chest hair that looked soft and springy. My fingers tingled with the urge to touch it. I closed my eyes and refocused on the girl.
What is her name? Chelsea? Cami? Car…Carly! That’s it.
