Off Course, page 18
They walked the next few blocks in silence. It was unfortunate he’d left his earbuds in the hotel room. He could’ve had music to accompany him on this evening stroll. Since he’d thought they were going to get their drink on, he’d left them.
He wondered if Brantley would’ve brought them anyway. Tucked them into one of the many pockets on his cargo pants. The thought made him smile.
He didn’t know why, but he was having a lot of those WWBD moments. What would Brantley do when… Ever since he met the guy, he’d been fascinated. Not in a romantic way, although it was amusing to tease Reese by flirting with his man. He meant no harm, and he always watched for signs of when he was about to cross the line. He wouldn’t do that. Not to either of them. But he did find it amusing to get a rise out of Reese and he was pretty sure Brantley enjoyed the fact that his soon-to-be husband was jealous.
It was all in fun, of course, but no, Atticus wasn’t interested in either of them. Not like that.
No, his fascination was with the man himself—a real-life Navy SEAL who likely had more stories from his experiences than the entire task force combined.
He figured it partially stemmed from having wanted to join the military himself. Atticus had attempted to sign up when he turned eighteen, only to be rejected when they learned he’d spent a year in a mental facility when he was fifteen. He’d been in the foster system, and evidently, acting out at school to a certain degree was grounds for hospitalization. Atticus had sucked it up, but shortly after they released him, he ran away from the foster home he’d been placed in. He’d lived on the streets for a year before he turned eighteen.
Because of his troubled youth, Uncle Sam hadn’t been interested in taking him. He’d been wandering since then, but now … he didn’t want to get too excited, but he was starting to think he might’ve finally found a soft place to land.
***
“Thanks, JJ. Let me know if you do find somethin’.”
As Brantley ended the call with JJ—the second in the past hour—Reese could feel Brantley’s tension rising. And it was steadily increasing with every passing minute. While Reese continued to review what little information Z had sent him on Decker and the bits and pieces JJ was unearthing, Brantley had started pacing.
“Goddammit,” Brantley growled, throwing his phone on the bed.
Reese closed his laptop and stood. “I think you need a distraction.”
“No, what I fucking need is to find Decker. This is bullshit. It’s—”
Reese cut him off by shoving him onto the bed.
Brantley’s eyes were saucer-wide as he stared back at him.
No, Reese didn’t make a habit of manhandling Brantley, but he knew, in this instance, it was necessary. Brantley was getting himself worked up enough that a migraine was inevitable.
“Relax,” Reese told him. “Lie back and relax.”
“I don’t—”
Reese covered Brantley’s mouth with his hand and pushed him down so he was lying on the bed. Reese straddled his hips, staring down at him.
“I’ll remove my hand, but I want you to be quiet. Understood?”
Brantley’s blue-gray eyes glittered with a promise of retribution, but he finally nodded.
“Good.”
Removing his hand, Reese inched backward and got off the bed.
“Take off your shirt, then turn over.”
Brantley’s eyes narrowed, and his lips parted.
“Quiet,” Reese repeated.
While Brantley removed his shirt—dramatically jerking and tossing—and flopped over onto his stomach, Reese removed both of their shoes. He went to his bag and retrieved the bottle of lubricant.
“I’m not in the mood,” Brantley grumbled, glaring at him as Reese approached.
Reese barked a laugh. “Is that the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”
Brantley grunted.
“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 not just as 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 do this all 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.”
Admittedly, it thrilled Reese that Brantley was so excited to marry him. He knew the wedding wasn’t exactly Brantley’s cup of tea, but he was making concessions because he knew Reese was looking forward to it. Reese couldn’t exactly say why that was but being involved made it more real. Since there were days when he wondered how the fuck he’d gotten this lucky, Reese needed those preparations because they grounded him.
Brantley got to his feet, pressing his chest to Reese’s before sealing their mouths. Within seconds, the kiss turned omnipotent, and the next thing Reese knew, they were in the shower, the warm water raining down on them. He held on to Brantley, letting his new memories overwhelm the nightmares that still attempted to invade from time to time. It was getting easier, but he still had his moments.
“Turn around. Put your hands on the wall.”
Reese did as instructed, moaning and groaning as Brantley’s hands moved over him, causing goosebumps on his skin. His cock was hard as steel and ached for Brantley’s touch. He knew it would come, but not until Brantley was ready. Luckily, Reese had been honing his patience over the past two years since he met this man. He hadn’t mastered the skill, but he was learning to be in the moment.
“Put your foot on the bench.”
Shifting a step to the right, Reese did as Brantley wanted, lifting his leg and placing his foot on the bench. As soon as his skin touched the tile, Brantley’s fingers delved between his ass cheeks, fondling his hole and making him moan.
“In forty days, this is gonna be mine, too.”
“Already is,” Reese chimed.
Brantley chuckled. “You’re right. It is. I’m the only one who’s ever had the pleasure. Which means you’re all mine, Reese.”
He loved when Brantley said shit like that. The man was an alpha male with a soft spot, and that made Reese want him even more.
Brantley moved in closer, his thighs pressed against Reese’s legs, his cock sliding along the crack of his ass. Moments later, Reese was groaning as Brantley pushed inside him.
He held himself still as his skin prickled. Pleasure, unlike anything he’d ever known before this man, consumed him. It was always that way. Every inch of him felt Brantley like they were one person when they were like this.
“You feel so good,” Brantley rasped against his shoulder, his arm banding around Reese’s stomach. “I could certainly do this all day.”
Reese inhaled and exhaled, riding the waves of pleasure as Brantley fucked him. Slow and deep, filling him completely. He maintained a brutally slow pace until Reese thought his head would come off his body. And just when he was reaching the point of frustration, Brantley fisted his cock, stroking in time with the languid pace. Reese gasped for air, welcoming the rush that preceded the release. He held on as long as he could.
“Come for me, baby,” Brantley groaned. “Let go for me.”
He did.
And a second later, Brantley was right there with him.
***
Nearly three hours after they left for Chelsea, Becs was walking out of the subway near their hotel.
The trip had been a bust.
At least, she’d thought it had been. The guys weren’t saying as much, but she was sure they would agree. According to Atticus, it had been necessary. He’d done his best to reassure her that they hadn’t wasted their time looking for something that wasn’t there.
Maybe he was right. If they hadn’t gone, she would’ve wondered.
Then again, if she had told Brantley and Reese, there was a good chance they would’ve found Decker and would be preparing to go back to Texas.
Granted, they weren’t miracle workers, but still. Becs couldn’t help but be disappointed. She’d secretly hoped to be the one who found Decker. She’d even imagined the approval she would’ve seen in the eyes of her co-workers if they had.
But no. She’d led the team on a wild goose chase.
As they walked through the hotel lobby, their phones all chimed almost simultaneously. Becs pulled hers from her backpack.
“Brantley wants us to meet for breakfast at six o’clock,” Slade announced.
“Oh six hundred,” Atticus said with a chuckle, which made Becs smile. Yeah, she could practically hear Brantley and Reese saying it in the military speak they were used to.
“I guess that means drinkin’ at the bar’s outta the question,” Slade added.
“You can,” Becs told them. “But I’m gonna call it a night.” It was later than she’d intended, and she wanted to call Carly before she went to sleep.
“Me, too,” Evan said before following her toward the elevator.
They were silent on the way up.
“I’m going to call Kaye,” Evan said. “Check in with Sophia. You want to talk to Carly?”
“Absolutely.”
While Evan talked to his daughter, Becs slipped into the bathroom and changed into her pajamas. She washed her face and pulled her hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of her face while she slept.
By the time she was finished, Evan was saying good night. He passed her the phone.
Becs put the phone to her ear at the same time Carly said, “Hey, Mommy.”
“Hey, honey.” She slid into the desk chair, smiling simply because she could hear her daughter’s voice. “Did you have fun today?”
She listened as Carly rattled off everything they’d done during the day. Every single thing, including what they’d eaten—the pancakes they had for breakfast, the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches they had for lunch, and the macaroni and cheese they had for dinner.
“Sounds like you had a good day,” Becs surmised.
“I did. When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow, I think,” she said.
“Really?” Carly squealed. “Yay.”
Becs grinned. “I want you to be good for Kaye until then, all right?”
“Yes, Mommy. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
Becs laughed. “Good night, honey.”
The call disconnected, and she sat there for a moment, clutching Evan’s phone.
“You okay?”
Realizing he’d come out of the bathroom, her gaze shot to him. He was wearing shorts, but unlike the other morning when she’d woken him to tell him she was leaving, Evan had on a T-shirt. A shame, really. The guy looked really good without a shirt.
Pushing to her feet, she passed him his phone. “Yeah. Good night.”
Before she reached the doorway to the bedroom, Evan called her name.
She turned slowly, holding her head up, hoping he wouldn’t bring up the conversation they’d had last night. She didn’t need him to tell her that now wasn’t the right time for him to be in a relationship.
“Are we okay?” Evan asked, stepping toward her.
With her jaw set, she nodded.
His gaze shifted to her mouth, and Becs’s heart slammed hard in her chest. She swallowed, then took a deep breath, trying to get air into her constricted lungs. When he looked at her like that, she could easily forget that she wanted to be friends. Or rather, that she didn’t want to lose their friendship by starting something that would only end badly. And it would. Pessimism or not, Evan didn’t want anything more from her, and Becs wasn’t willing to risk their friendship for anything less than everything.
“I’m sorry if I did something to upset you,” he said softly.
“You didn’t,” she whispered, staring into his eyes as he seemed to move even closer.
“I don’t want to complicate things, Becs.”
Evidently, he didn’t realize he was sending some serious mixed signals. If he moved any closer, she was going to fall into him, and that complication was going to be inevitable.
His fingers swept along her jaw, and she gasped, hating that tears were forming.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice soft and gravelly.
She swallowed again, her heart drumming in her ears. Becs wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to get lost in this man. For a brief moment, she even considered taking advantage of this one night they had. One night of passion would be more than enough. They could go back to being friends tomorrow.
Only Becs wasn’t wired that way. She would fall in love with Evan even more than she already had, and if they made love, seeing him every day would be a heartache she didn’t think she’d survive.
“Goodnight, Evan,” she said, forcing the words from her mouth as she stepped back, reaching for the door to shut out the temptation once and for all.
Or at least it gave her the illusion that it did.
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday, August 9, 2022
It was interesting that he used to sleep on hard cots in foreign countries more often than not, and now Brantley was uncomfortable in a plush, 4-star-hotel bed.
Sure, he’d napped for a few minutes earlier this evening when Reese had massaged his back, but that had never stopped him before. However, tonight, his brain wouldn’t shut off. It was going ninety miles a minute, ticking off endless things he wanted to do/needed to do/should have done. None of it was important at this very moment. There was nothing he could accomplish from here in New York City, yet his brain didn’t seem to give a shit.
So, when he didn’t force his eyes closed, he would stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out where the fuck Decker had disappeared to. More importantly, why?
Another twenty minutes passed, and Brantley glanced at the clock. It was 0147, which meant it was far too early to get up. If he’d been at home, perhaps he would, but not here. Not with Reese sleeping soundly beside him and Tesha snoozing on the blanket pallet Reese had created on the floor.
Brantley grinned. He loved how much Reese loved that dog. Just another side of the man Brantley had fallen hopelessly in love with. And they were getting married in thirty-nine days. He didn’t even have to calculate anymore. He was tracking each day like a kid the week before Christmas.
That made him smile even more.
Only thirty-nine more days before—
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it, not wanting the sound to wake Reese.
Brantley squinted at the brightly lit screen to see JJ’s name and number.
