My feet kept moving, the desire, the need, the sheer fucking want driving me forward toward—there it was. Thethumpa-thumpaof dance music. Everything I knew I wanted to experience called to me like a siren song. It grew louder and more distinguishable the closer I got.
At the intersection across from the club, an address I burned into my brain, I paused, hiding in the shadows—watching and waiting, trying to decide if I should proceed, if I should risk everything because that’s what getting caught would take from me—everything.
“If you’re planning something nefarious…”
The heel of my boot scraped against the sidewalk as I spun. With a broad chest, I came eye-to-eye with the most beautiful man I ever laid eyes on—tall, slender, dark eyes and hair.
“Ah! I get the stalker routine now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The spicy, minty smell of his breath danced over my face and tickled my nose as he leaned in close. “You’re a military boy.”
His words hit me with the force of a grenade, turning my blood to ice and chilling me to the core. One step. Then another and another. And still it didn’t feel like enough as the trepidation of being discovered continued filling me, racing through my nervous system like the surf rushes the sand when the tide comes in. “You…you’re…you’re wrong.”
His face—gorgeous and angular with a regal look to it—turned soft. “I’d stake my career that I’m not.”
“What career?”
His eyes widened for a moment before he leaned forward, whispering, “I could tell you, but…”
Realization dawned, and the fear escalated as my brain finally logged what my eyes were seeing. Clean-cut, athletic build, the air of mystery I’d come to recognize from the SOCOM community—the cold, hard eyes that seemed to hold experiences, knowledge, and a pain the rest of the world couldn’t fathom. A world I wanted a place in, and I had it, was on the verge of stepping into it for real in the next few weeks.
If I didn’t screw it up.
Which made standing here on a street corner outside a queer nightclub trying to work myself up to going in a stupid idea. I’d argued with myself; there was no way I wanted to spend another six months living like a fucking monk. And my hand was no longer cutting it. Nearly two years without was long e-fucking-nough. I wanted—fuck that; Ihadto get laid. I wanted to bebent over, opened up, and split in half by a monster cock as I got pounded into whatever surface the dude wanted to take me on or against.
“It’s cool, kid. I may not be military, but I am queer, and I don’t agree with the shit we’ve gotta go through to serve our country. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks. And I agree, but all the same…” I broke off, glancing longingly at the club.
“Were you wanting to drink and dance the night away, or were you looking to get fucked?”
“What’s it matter?”
He stepped forward, advancing as I retreated until my back hit the brick wall of the building I’d posted up next to. Those eyes—the ones filled with secrets—caught fire. The heat of his gaze stole the oxygen from my lungs, and I gasped.
His eyes lowered to my mouth, my dick twitching in my pants. The heat of his gaze intensified, and his thumb swiped over my lower lip. His flavor exploded on my tongue, making me realize I’d licked him with no sort of forethought. It just happened.
“You’ve done this before, right?” he asked.
I nodded, his thumb finding its way inside my mouth when my lips fell apart. I sucked it, the same way I wanted to suck his cock. The hard length pressed into me. A groan filled the space between us. I didn’t know if it was his, mine, or ours.
“You haven’t answered the question,” he stated, pulling his thumb from my mouth.
“Yes, I’ve done this before. Not for a while, but I’m not a virgin. Not by a long shot.”
“Good. Though if I’m honest, it wouldn’t have kept me from trying.”
“Trying?”
“To get you to bend over for me.”
“I see.”
“Is that a good ‘I see’ or a bad ‘I see’? Because the more I look at your pretty face, the more I want to see if the rest matches.”
“You think I’m pretty?” I’d been called sexy, gorgeous, stunning, and any number of other things, but never pretty. At least not in a non-derogatory way.
