I sat there, stunned. A lieutenant position. It was exactly what I’d been working toward, what I’d applied for months ago when the testing cycle opened up. It was validation, proof that I wasn’t coasting by on charm and good luck.
But Station 12. Different battalion, different shift rotation possibilities. Away from Rhett. “I…” I started, then stopped. What was I supposed to say?
Ramirez studied me, his dark eyes sharp. “You don’t seem as excited as I expected.”
“No, I am. I mean, thank you, Chief. This is huge. I just—” I ran a hand through my hair. “When would this start?” “Three weeks. They’re in a bit of a rush over there. Their battalion chief had a heart attack last month.”
“Oh shit.”
“He’s going to be fine, but he’s retiring early. The current lieutenant got offered the BC promotion, but there’s no one at 12 qualified to take his place.” Ramirez tapped his pen against the desk. “You’ve got a week to decide before it gets offered to the second choice.”
A week. Seven days to decide whether to take the career advancement I’d been chasing or stay at a station where I’d never move up, with the crew I was comfortable with. And my best friend, or whatever he was now.
“Okay, um. I’ll think on it.”
“You do that. Now go.” He shooed me out of his office, and I hurried back to the locker room, hoping Rhett hadn’t noticed my absence. I wasn’t ready to discuss this with him yet. I rounded the corner to find him by his locker, grabbing his duffel bag. Igrabbed my own bag and headed for the parking lot, careful to maintain the appropriate distance between us. The guys didn’t know about us yet, and I wasn’t sure how Rhett wanted to handle that.
We clocked out side by side, nodding to Mitchell and Jackson, who were coming on for the morning shift.
“Quiet night?” Mitchell asked, slipping his radio into his belt.
“Like a graveyard,” I replied. “Two medical calls and a false alarm at that apartment complex on Madison.”
“You guys heading straight home?” Jackson asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
My heart skipped. Did he know? No, the guys all expected us to leave together. I forced a natural laugh.
“Yeah, man. My bed is calling my name,” I said, which wasn’t even a lie.
“Later, assholes,” Rhett said good-naturedly, clapping Mitchell on the shoulder.
We walked out to the parking lot, still keeping space between us until we reached Rhett’s truck. Only when the doors closed behind us and Rhett had pulled out of the station lot did I finally let myself exhale. I reached for his thigh, squeezing the solid muscle beneath his jeans.
“Fuck, I missed being able to touch you,” I groaned. “Twenty-four hours of looking and not touching should be classified as cruel and unusual punishment.”
Rhett’s lips curved into that half-smile that always made something flutter in my chest. “Like what? What did you want to touch?” His voice was low, teasing, with an edge of hunger that sent heat straight to my groin.
I let my hand slide higher up his thigh, chasing away thoughts of what it might be like to work at a different station as my fingers traced the unmistakable outline of his hardening cock through his jeans. What would it be like to not have mornings with him?
“Like this,” I said, giving him a gentle squeeze that pulled a soft hiss from between his teeth. “And these.” I cupped his balls, exploring their weight, their heat through the denim.
“Jesus, Troy,” he breathed, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “You’re going to make me crash this truck.”
“Then pull over,” I suggested, only half-joking. I traced the length of him with my thumb, admiring how he strained against his zipper. “Or should I wait until we get home so I can properly thank you for that shoulder massage yesterday?” I leaned closer, letting my lips brush against his ear. “That was fucking dirty, by the way. Getting me hard in the kitchen when Johnson could have walked in any minute.”
Rhett laughed, a deep rumble that I felt in my palm as it rested on his thigh. “You should have seen your face. Worth it.”
He shifted in his seat, and I could tell he was trying to adjust himself without being too obvious. Denver morning traffic moved around us, people going about their day, unaware of the thick sexual tension filling the cab of Rhett’s truck.
“I can’t stop thinking about it, Troy,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, more serious. “About… having you inside me.” The words hung between us, charged and heavy with meaning.
My cock twitched in my jeans, and I inhaled sharply.
“Yeah?” I managed, my own voice strained.
“Yeah.” He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “I want to know what it’s like. I want to feel you stretching me open, filling me up. Want to look up and see your face while you’re buried inside me.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, adjusting myself in my seat. My cock was fully hard now, throbbing uncomfortably against my zipper.
