While the email didn’t go into details about the who, it was clear to me when I let logical thought and not hurt feelings rule my gray matter. Xander didn’t think me incapable; he didn’t trust himself to get the job done while worrying about my safety.
Knuckles rapped on the plywood door, and I sighed. I just wanted to be left alone. I needed time to myself. There were plenty of people in the command center, so I ignored the interloper.
Only they refused to be ignored. Rapping turned to pounding until I feared the fist hitting it from the other side would come through it entirely, and not just make it rattle in its frame.
“What?” I asked, yanking the door open. “Xander! What…um…sorry. Come in.”
He stepped inside, and I shut the door behind him. The room might’ve been private, but it was as tiny as a shoebox, with only enough room for a twin bed and a desk that did double duty as a nightstand and a rod with shelves at the end of the bed for clothing and shoes.
“Nice…uh…nice space.”
With the two of us standing between the door and the bed, the gap between our bodies felt even tinier than it was. And that space evaporated once our eyes met and held. The way this man affected me and the pull he had over me…they were un-fucking-real. I’d been so fucking pissed at him, and now, after weeks of not communicating with him at all and barely making eye contact with him, the battle between stepping away and getting closer fought hard for control.
Swallowing, I asked, “What…was there something you needed?”
“I wanted to apologize…” he broke off, and I waited.
I refused to let the man off the hook. Did I finally understand what his reasoning mostly was? Yes. Did it make it alright? Not in the least.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dismissed you the way I did when insurgents hit the camp. You were right. You’re a trained CIA operative. They don’t let you guys out in the field without knowing how to handle yourselves.”
I grabbed him, pulling him into my arms to kiss him with all I had. I thought for sure he’d downplay and backpedal, but he didn’t. The words blew me away. Nowhere near the way thefeel of him in my arms did, though, and especially not when his wrapped around me and our clothing disappeared.
He shoved me against the door, grabbing a towel from the end of the bed. The fabric pulled taut between his hands and pressed against my mouth as he leaned in, whispering, “You couldn’t stay quiet if someone paid you a king’s ransom. Best to stuff you full so when I make you scream, we don’t bring the whole base down on us.”
I opened, and he did just as he suggested; he shoved the towel between my lips and teeth, and he growled, “Bite down and keep quiet.”
I did as he ordered, groaning through the fabric as he played with my nipples. First with his hands, then his lips, tongue, and mouth. The man assaulted my senses, attacking from every front with everything he had. I needed him. I needed more.
“You got supplies?” he asked, against my chest
His breath ghosted over the wet puckered flesh of my nipple.
“Answer me, Daddio,” he whispered.
I shook my head. Was the man nuts? No, I didn’t have supplies. I had no need for supplies.
“A blowjob it is,” he said with a quick kiss.
Spitting out the towel, I held him in place when he moved to kneel. “Two blow jobs,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Fuck. Yes. I like the way you think.”
I buried my tongue in his mouth and pushed him toward the tiny ass bed that I barely fit on. We tumbled on it together. Mouths fused, hands roaming, cocks rubbing together as we ground into each other desperately seeking relief from the weeks, turned months, of service.
I missed this.
I missed him under me, in me.
We were stupid for doing this here. Anybody could come by at any time and knock on the door. There was nowhere to hide if someone knocked.
The danger made it so much sweeter. I turned around, straddling his face, watching my cock slide between his lips, his tongue dancing over the head of my dick, licking and sucking at me as I buried myself in his throat.
He gagged. His nails bit into my flesh, not to push me away, but to force me closer. Widening my knees as much as I could, I did what he asked and slid in further. He moaned.
Fuck me. I missed this,him.
A scream built inside me, one neither of us could afford, so I fell over him, my hand holding his dick steady as I swallowed him to the root. His taste burst on my tongue, reminding me again of what I’d been missing. How the small amount of time I spent with this man cemented him in my soul the way it had confused the hell out of me, but I refused to fight what felt so fucking right.
