“Fuck me,” he murmured and took her quick and dirty.
Eva leaned back against him, a warm, familiar weight in the passenger seat. "What is taking Alice so bloody long," she grumbled, her impatience a familiar, charming tune.
"Patience, darlin'," Fly murmured into her hair, his voice a low, amused rumble. He loved this about her, the restless energy that mirrored his own, the way she was always moving, always thinking, always a step ahead.
"I don't see—" Her words cut off, her breath hitching against his chest. Fly followed her gaze to the hotel lobby doors just as one of them swung open. North stepped out, holding the door for Alice, and Fly had to fight back a grin. His brother, the quiet, steady rock, looked like a damn god. His dark, wavy hair was still damp from the shower, falling in a careless, tousled mane that framed his face in a way that was almost artful. The simple black T-shirt he wore was a second skin, clinging to the broad, sculpted planes of his chest and the powerful set of his shoulders. He moved with an easy, predatory grace that was more lethal than any overt display of strength, a quiet confidence that had been forged in fire and ice.
Fly saw the exact moment North's eyes found him, a look of smug satisfaction passing between them. It was a silent, brotherly communication that said You set me up, you bastard. And it worked. Good. The big man needed to be laid.
"Oh… my… God," Eva whispered, the words a puff of awestruck air against his neck. "Geezus. He should come with a warning label."
"Hey… what am I, chopped liver?" Fly grumbled good-naturedly, though he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. He loved her fire, her complete lack of filter.
Eva turned in his arms, her smile sensual and warm, her eyes still glued to the approaching pair. "I'm just looking a little," she purred, and Fly felt a primal, possessive surge of pride. She was his, but she wasn't blind, and neither was he. "You gotta warn a girl. But now, I get it. You beautiful coppery, sly fox."
She ran her hands over his biceps slowly with a sensual gleam. “I love how hard you are,” she whispered. “Definitely not chopped liver, Mr. Devastation.”
Fly laughed and pulled her close, his lips brushing her temple. "So, North and I are here for holiday. We're going to hit a few spots while we have the time, a little surfing, some partying, some drinking, and sightseeing. You two interested?"
Eva turned fully into him, her hands coming up to frame his face. She pressed her mouth to his, a soft, exploratory kiss that quickly deepened, her tongue tracing his lips before slipping inside to tangle with his in a way that was both a promise and a challenge. It was a kiss that spoke of lazy mornings and shared secrets, of a passion that was as comfortable as it was intense, and it sent a jolt straight through him, a familiar, electric current that he knew he'd never get tired of.
He grinned against her mouth. "Was that a yes?"
She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking the rough stubble. "You know it is, you rascal," she breathed, her voice a husky whisper. “After last night, I can’t get enough of you.” She pressed against him. “Our flight back to Sydney isn’t until next week. We’re on uni break.”
"Brilliant," Fly said, his eyes sparkling. He and North had twelve days before reporting to their respective teams. "Now, how about we indulge my friend and go see some kangaroos and koalas? San Diego Zoo?"
Eva pulled back, a mock-impatient sigh escaping her lips. "Tourists," she said, though her eyes were dancing with delight, and Fly knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that this was going to be a hell of a lot more than just a short respite from service.
The sun beat down on North’s shoulders as he leaned back against the warm sand at Blacks Beach, watching the surf roll in. The break lay beneath the tall cliffs of La Jolla, carved by time and tide into something stark and unyielding. The Pacific rolled in clean and heavy, long period swells rising from deep water without apology. There was no harbor here, no protective curve. Just open ocean and consequence. North respected places like this. They didn’t pretend to be safe.
Alice and Eva had left to go back to college in Australia, and North had to admit he missed the weight and heat of her against him. She was easy to be with, but they both knew it was nothing permanent. It wasn’t that he put up a barrier against other women, but until he found someone who touched him on the kind of level that he craved, female companionship would just be that.
The girls might be gone, but Shamrock and Bolt, who were currently on leave from their team, had just flown in last night. They had gotten a little rowdy the night before, and North was a little hung-over.
"So, you guys thinking about getting any more ink?" Bolt asked, nudging North's leg with his foot as they all relaxed on the beach towels.
North's hand instinctively went to his side, where the bear paws were inked into his skin. He immediately rejected the idea of marking his body just for the hell of it. He had been thinking about a specific tattoo but had been holding onto it because it was both meaningful and something he wanted to share with Fly. He hadn't thought it appropriate to bring it up when Eva and Alice were with them. It was much too private to share with strangers, but with Shamrock and Bolt, it seemed almost ordained. The last time they hit some major milestones, they had each gotten a tattoo.
"Why? Are you thinking ink on your dick this time?" Fly asked with a soft laugh, squinting against the sun.
Bolt's blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "No, but now that you ask..."
"For the love of Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Shamrock muttered, rubbing his temples. "How much overflow do you think I can handle?"
"Maybe you should get something on your dick, Sham?" Bolt suggested, waggling his eyebrows at him. "What about some lucky charms?"
Shamrock sat up, his laughter growing louder. "You want me to tattoo hearts, stars, horseshoes, clovers, blue moons, red balloons, pots of gold, fucking rainbows, and a unicorn on my dick? Saints preserve us."
"What are you afraid of?" Bolt shot back, grinning. "You won't have enough room for all of that?"
North fell back in the sand with an exaggerated groan, covering his face with his hands. Fly clutched his forehead and gut, tears of laughter streaming down his face, and Shamrock shoved Bolt into the sand.
"Fuck you, Bolt," Shamrock managed to say between his own laughter. "I swear to God, you're twelve."
“I do my best to not act my age. But no, no dick ink. My thought was some lightning across my back. Cool, right?”
Fly sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. "Lightning? What? Are you trying to be Thor now? Next you'll be carrying a hammer around."
