Hell, I’d fucked Carly in the stock room at the bar the other night. I didn’t even remember how it happened or who had initiated things. What I did remember, was it wasn’t my most stellar performance.
Carly was a great lay and always up for a good time. Brock and I had tag-teamed her before we’d deployed the last time, but the other night had been the first time I’d fucked her on my own. That was the problem. At least I thought so, because from what I remembered, Brock’s face and body—and dear God, the noises the man made when his cock was being sucked—were all I could think about.
As I thought about it more, I realized what triggered the situation with Carly was receiving a text from Brock blowing me off, saying he had something planned already with one of the guys from Echo Team. When I asked who, my blood boiled. Conley Portland was built a lot like me. Everyone commented on how we could be twins.
I didn’t know why, but I hated the motherfucker. I had seen him visually devour Brock at the gym when the three of us were there one day. He was fucking blatant about it.
I’d tossed my phone down, pissed off. I was sitting at the bar Carly worked at, the same one we’d met her in months ago. It was every Vah Beach SEAL’s go-to place to tie one on or find a frog hog to warm your dick. The next thing I knew, I was balls deep inside her, thinking about him.
Wipe that thought from your head.
My subconscious was right. DADT was a thing, and I needed to be fucking careful. Being a SEAL was my dream job. It was who and what I was. If anyone caught wind of this—and, hell, even the shit with Brock and Carly—he and I would both be out on our asses.
I thought it was fucking ridiculous. Who you fucked didn’t fucking make you more or less of a man. I knew that Brock was as masculine as you can get. A complete alpha male. He was fucking fearless, aggressive as fuck, and…so fucking sexy.
“You good?” Brock asked as he rolled toward me, interrupting my thoughts.
I nodded but continued staring at the ceiling.
What the fuck did we just do?
CHAPTER 8
BROCK
SUMMER 2009
After another SitRepthat was yet another order to sit and fucking spin, I walked out of the conference room, leaving Foster and the others behind. I needed some space. I needed to figure some shit out, and I couldn’t do it under the magnifying gaze of my team leader and our commander.
The higher-ups in Washington were twiddling their thumbs while Adam was held hostage. DOD and the political types were running the pros and cons and the possibilities of blowback on them and the others they gave a fuck about while the team was told to stand the fuck down. And Adam was being tortured.
I was beyond fucking pissed.
We needed to fucking go get him. I didn’t understand what the hold-up was. Even though they’d explained it, it didn’t fucking make a lick of sense.
When I drove through the base’s front gates, I headed to Adam’s apartment instead of going home. I had been keeping the negative thoughts and shit under wraps as much as possible, but I was officially getting scared after the shit we’d just heard.I needed to be as close to him as possible. My heart and soul needed to feel him.
When did I become the cheesy romantic fucker that says shit like that?
Probably when I fell in love with Adam.
Adam’s granny had always said that talking to yourself was a sign of senility.
I laughed. She was right. I was fucking losing it. As for the cheesy romantic shit, I’d said similar shit to Adam a few times over the years, and he’d laughed his ass off at me.
I pulled into his parking spot and stared up at the building. I shook off the gut punch being here without him caused, and I opened my truck door. I walked up the sidewalk slowly. My feet just wouldn’t fucking move any faster.
When I finally reached the door, I used my key, the only thing I’d kept after we’d split the last time. I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Holding it there, I stared into the space. It was like he was in there. Like he was home, waiting for me to come over.
Using my foot, I propped open the door and leaned back against the wall. Now that I was here, I didn’t know if I could fucking go inside.
There were so many fucking memories in this place. So many experiences were shared within these walls. It was here that we first shared the same bed sexually. Albeit with a woman between us, but still, our first sexual experience happened right here on the other side of the wall I was standing next to. Our second one, that time just the two of us, was also right inside.
Our first kiss was in my apartment, which had been just down the hall. It was the one I was supposed to move into when we first PCS’d to Vah Beach. Right before we came home from Iraq, the sailor I was taking over the apartment from hadmessaged me, said he was finally moving, and asked if I was still interested.
After the shit that happened with Carly and me finally admitting that I had feelings for Adam, I knew I needed to put some space between us. Adam wasn’t happy with the idea for some weird reason he couldn’t articulate. Since he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me why he didn’t want me to move, I did just that, and I lived down the hall until I’d bought my house.
That shit with Carly had been a drunken lapse of restraint on my part. I’d not been with a woman in years, but it opened the door enough that about three months into our six-month deployment, Adam started opening up and sharing shit. We were already close, but he shared more than the Navy with me now. He asked about my hopes and dreams, and I asked about his.
