“I hate to disappoint you,” Reese told him. “But I have no intention of fuckin’ you.”
Another grunt.
Reese laughed. “I promise you’ll enjoy this just as much.”
“Doubtful.”
“Fine.” Reese joined him on the bed, straddling his thighs. “Maybe notjustas much. But I won’t disappoint. Now close your eyes.”
Reese squeezed a generous amount of the liquid into his hands and began massaging Brantley’s back. He remained silent—they both did—for a good ten minutes while he worked some of the tension out of Brantley’s shoulders. It took effort. The man was as taut as a bowstring.
When he felt Brantley go limp beneath him, he knew he’d fallen asleep. How he did that, Reese would never know. The man could go to sleep in seconds. It was a skill he’d acquired during his time in the Navy. Reese hadn’t been in special forces, so he’d never experienced the sporadic chaos that special operators did, but evidently, they were trained to recoup their strength by catching sleep whenever they could. And they did that by shutting themselves down in an instant. It was quite interesting to witness.
While Brantley snoozed, Reese got off the bed slowly. He went to the bathroom and washed his hands, then looked at the shower in the mirror’s reflection. His mind drifted to the time when a shower hadn’t been a luxury for him. He’d been allowed to wash with a bucket of water and a sponge once every couple of weeks. He hadn’t understood why his captors had bothered. For the longest time, they hadn’t given him a reason for why they were keeping him alive at all. One day, he’d asked.
“Why?” Reese asked, shivering from the chill in the air and the fever that racked his body. “Why don’t you just kill me?”
White teeth flashed behind the dark beard. “You’re worth nothing to us dead.”
“I’m worth nothing to you alive, either.”
“We’ll decide that. Don’t discount yourself yet.”
When he’d finally been rescued, Reese had spent far too much time sitting on the shower floor. For days after, he would seek solace there, letting the water rain down on him until it ran cold. It was an attempt to get clean, both physically and mentally. While it had removed the grime from his skin, it hadn’t done anything to wash away the memories.
Shaking off the past, he turned to find Brantley standing in the bathroom doorway. He was naked, his eyes gleaming with the promise of retribution he’d seen earlier.
“Strip,” Brantley grumbled as he moved toward the shower to turn on the water.
Reese didn’t bother to tell him they’d showered that morning. It was moot. They weren’t getting in because they were dirty. They were getting in because that was what Brantley wanted.
“I’m not in the mood,” Reese mocked even as he stripped off his shirt.
“You’re always in the mood.” Brantley’s hands were on his chest before the T-shirt hit the floor.
It was true. He was.
Sex had never been quite as thrilling as it was with Brantley. Not necessarily because Reese had never been with another man before. It was simply more intimate. Not merely physical. And Reese looked forward to those intimate moments he shared with this man.
“Fuck, I could touch you all day,” Brantley rumbled near his ear as he kissed Reese’s neck.
Maintaining his indifferent attitude, Reese grunted. “I can’t strip if you keep doin’ that.”
“Then let me help.”
Reese had to grip the edge of the counter when Brantley jerked his jeans down his legs, dragging the denim to the floor.
And then he was staring down at Brantley, sucking air into his lungs as desire flooded his bloodstream.
“Perfect,” Brantley rasped, leaning in to kiss the head of Reese’s dick. “I could dothisall day, too.”
“Oh, fuck.” Reese hissed, his head falling back as Brantley took him to the root.
“Forty days, then this…” Brantley stroked him firmly. “This is gonna belong to me.”
Reese sighed. “Already does.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have a piece of paper that makes it official.”
