Return to Duty

by Elizabeth Hollows

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Tristan muttered, sounding impatient, “and stop wasting time.”

  He pushed Jay’s shoulder, forcing him to back away and kneel by Tristan’s feet. The moment he had the room, Tristan shifted onto his hands and knees, waiting for Jay to prepare him. That position was a little too cold and clinical for Jay’s tastes. Sex was meant to be fun. He supposed that was what he got for sleeping with an IA agent whose mind was already half on the mission they’d share in the morning.

  Uncapping the vial and pouring some lube onto his fingers, Jay mourned the lack of extended foreplay or the ability to watch Tristan’s face crest with pleasure as he pressed inside him. Jay always liked seeing his partners enjoy themselves—but he wasn’t about to complain about the specifics when he had a throbbing cock and Tristan in his bed.

  Warming the lubricant between his fingers, Jay shifted into place and spread Tristan’s ass cheeks. Tristan dropped down farther to lie on his arms, giving Jay a better angle to work. Jay grinned and pressed his first finger to the other man’s entrance. He ran the pad over the tight pucker and heard Tristan let out a soft breath. The agent’s muscles relaxed.

  He slipped his first finger inside. Tristan was tight, but it wouldn’t be hard to fix that. Jay took his time, pressing in, rotating it and pulling out. He brought his mouth to Tristan’s lower back, scraping his teeth over the skin and sucking it gently. Tristan shuddered and made noises of encouragement.

  Jay continued to spread him wide, thrusting a second finger inside and curling them as he searched for Tristan’s prostate. When he found it, Tristan’s breath punched out of him in a groan. He arched, even as he pressed back against Jay’s fingers. The agent’s knuckles were white as he clenched the bedding.

  Jay’s arousal throbbed with want, desperate to be touched and stimulated. He wanted to stroke himself—but he also wanted get inside Tristan. The time for teasing had passed.

  He gave Tristan’s prostate a final brush before pulling his fingers out. His voice was rough as he asked, “Ready?”

  “Yes,” Tristan gritted out in a tone filled with frustration and yearning.

  Jay smirked. He poured a little more lube onto his hand before stroking and coating his erection. He squeezed behind the head and teased himself. It felt so good, and the sight in front of him was just as pleasurable. Tristan was spread before him, his hole twitching and waiting to be speared by Jay. His skin was beaded with sweat and Tristan’s cock hung hard and heavy between his thighs.

  What a beautiful image.

  Taking his position behind Tristan, Jay shifted the agent’s hips to the perfect angle. He took his rock-hard member in hand and brushed Tristan’s entrance. Tristan trembled with need.

  When Jay pushed inside, they both moaned. Tristan’s muscles clenched around him, seeming to hug Jay’s shaft and drag it deeper. The heat and tightness caused Jay to close his eyes. He panted, but Tristan’s breaths came in hitched groans. It seemed to take both forever and no time at all before Jay was completely sheathed. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning over Tristan’s sweat-dampened back.

  Tristan was the first to react by pushing his hips back against Jay. He demanded, “Move.”

  Jay laughed but complied. He grasped Tristan’s hips and pulled out slowly before rocking back in. They both moaned. Tristan clenched and unclenched the sheets, but he didn’t lie passive. He started to rock his hips back against Jay’s thrusts. They established a rhythm that found them groaning on every second breath. When Jay angled himself to strike Tristan’s prostate, Tristan’s voice broke on a curse. He arched his body as if an electric current had shot through it.

  After that, Jay made sure to never miss.

  It was a heady, intense pace, with nothing but the tang of sweat on his tongue as Jay mouthed at Tristan’s skin. The sounds of their pleasure and the rocking of the bed were loud. Jay could almost forget he wasn’t on his ship. He could almost pretend it was his intriguing waiter who had finally succumbed to his charms. But the chemical cleanliness of military bedding lingered in the air and disrupted the fantasy. The man beneath him had scars that a waiter would most likely never possess and a personality that came from a life of orders, secrets and ranks.

  Remembering the lie that had brought him here, Jay clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, making his thrusts even more harsh. He pushed into Tristan sharply, but the agent only moaned for more.

  “Harder,” Tristan gasped. “Put some effort into it.”

  Jay barked a surprised laugh and his thrusts faltered. He opened his eyes and grinned down at the man.

  “So full of surprises,” he replied.

  If Tristan planned to respond, Jay silenced him by increasing his speed and intensity. His strikes became brutal as he pushed them closer to the peak.

  Tristan rolled into each movement. His cheek was pressed to the bedding, his lips parting in silent bliss. Jay leaned forward on a whim and nipped at the skin of Tristan’s shoulder. The agent opened lust-glazed eyes. He looked more like Bryce than Tristan, and he was utterly gorgeous. Jay could have spent hours admiring him, but Tristan was definitely impatient. He clenched his muscles around Jay’s cock, causing him to moan.

  “Don’t slow down,” Tristan demanded with a voice wrecked with pleasure.

  Tristan snuck a hand beneath his stomach to fist himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and his moans came unbidden. The sounds he made were enough to drive a man wild, causing Jay’s thrusts to become even more frantic. He closed his eyes and focused on the feel and sounds of Tristan underneath him. His climax was approaching and Tristan obviously wasn’t far behind.

  Tristan was gasping underneath him, the pitch and frequency of his groans increasing. He was close. Jay didn’t think as he attacked the spot where Tristan’s neck met his shoulder and latched on. He sucked before biting down hard enough to leave a mark, maybe even a bruise. Tristan went stiff against Jay, his breath catching before he let out a blissful cry. His body jerked and his muscles contracted as he came. The feel of Tristan’s orgasm brought Jay right to the edge. He grabbed Tristan’s hips and thrust rapidly, chasing his own pleasure. It hit him like a wave, slamming into him and punching the breath from his lungs. Jay moaned against Tristan’s skin.

  Damn. What a ride.

  He felt the bliss from good sex in every muscle. He pulled out of Tristan but was careful to put space between them as he lay on the mattress and panted. Tristan remained beside him, collecting his breath. It was long enough that Jay wondered, What now?

  But Jay didn’t have long to debate the question, as Tristan shifted and rolled off the mattress. He moved straight to the bathroom without a word or backward glance. He only paused long enough to grab his clothes before he shut the door.

  Jay lingered on the bed, waiting to see what would happen. In the end, he felt too unsettled to stay there. He climbed from the mattress and pulled on his pants. It was strange. He was normally the one yanking on his clothes and parting with a kiss and a wink before anyone could see him. It was odd to be on the opposite side of the equation.

  But it was a good thing, wasn’t it? There would be no pillow talk, no awkward questions, no emotional attachments.

  He’d offered meaningless sex—and so had Tristan. Jay would still be leaving once Zanik was rescued, and Tristan would go back to undercover work for IA. A one-night stand didn’t make a bit of difference.

  After stripping the bed, he located some spare sheets and remade it before he took a seat back on the mattress with his datascreen.

  Tristan stepped back into the room less than ten minutes later. The agent’s hair was perfect once more and his skin was no longer flushed. Tristan glanced at Jay but soon focused on sliding his weapons back into their various hiding places. He straightened his shirt when he’d finished, and turned to Jay. He was the perfect professional once more.

  “I hope we will now be able to work together comfortably, Major Chapman.”

  Jay found his lip twitching
in both amusement and incredulity. Tristan was so matter-of-fact. It was impressive how well he’d played the role of Bryce, if this was his normal personality. It was also impressive how optimistic IA trained their agents to be.

  Jay’s resentment and anger over the lie had faded, but he doubted a brief time in bed had solved all their problems. His attraction to Tristan hadn’t disappeared, and the memory of the agent moaning beneath him wouldn’t go away overnight. But if Tristan wanted to pretend it was swept under the rug, Jay could do the same.

  “I don’t think we’ll have a problem, Agent Fox.”

  Tristan nearly smiled, but he was turning away before the expression could fully form. He left without another word.

  It could have seemed impolite, but they weren’t friends or true comrades. They had been thrown together by chance and unfortunate circumstances. Their mission would take less than a week to complete, then they would be out of each other’s lives. Jay would be free from the weight of Major Chapman and back to the disreputable, thieving existence of Jaybird.

  It will be easier that way.

  Sighing, Jay tossed aside the datascreen and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. He thought about Tristan. The sex had been good.

  When he closed his eyes, his mind replayed it—yet it was overlaid by the smirks and flirtations of an innocent waiter who’d made him laugh. Jay would miss visiting that diner on Vicente.

  Jay sighed again and opened his eyes. His fury might be gone and his desire might have faded, but Jay’s disappointment at losing Bryce still lingered.

  Chapter Four

  Jay woke early the next morning. He showered and shaved but was still wrapped in a towel when an IA agent knocked on his door to deliver his clothing for the mission. The outfit was comprised of thick black boots, dark brown pants with numerous pockets, a black shirt and a dark brown wrap. It was standard desert attire. The shawl he could drape over his body, shoulders and head to protect him from the whipping wind and sand.

  Pulling on everything but the wrap, he stepped out of his room. He asked directions from the first agent he found and headed to the mess hall for breakfast. It was swarming with agents, but unlike the UCAFD, which would be loud and raucous, the spies were quiet. The few conversations were done in whispers so that no one could eavesdrop. Jay could feel everyone’s eyes on him, even if they weren’t obvious about it. Jay ate alone, and although he did skim the room, he didn’t see Tristan.

  When he returned to his quarters, Jay put on the shawl and looked around. There was nothing else worth taking. He left the datascreen and his clothes—IA could wash them or throw them out. He didn’t care.

  When Jay arrived at the docking bay, it was just before their scheduled departure time. Tristan was already there. His black hair was loose and falling in soft curls once more and he had similar boots and wore lighter-colored but otherwise identical pants to Jay’s. Instead of a shawl, he had a dark brown hooded wrap, which sat more like a poncho or cape. When Tristan shifted, Jay could see a brown shirt under it. A shemagh was wrapped around Tristan’s neck. It was a scarf-like item that would protect his face and neck from sun and sand in the desert.

  They would fit right in on Asam.

  There were a few agents in the docking bay doing pre-mission tasks. A man stood by Jay’s ship, ticking items off a list. Figuring that was a good place to start, Jay made his way over and ordered, “Report.”

  The agent looked over his shoulder and Jay witnessed his internal struggle as he decided whether or not to answer, but Jay was a major and outranked him.

  “I have placed all items on board that are relevant to the mission. The ship is refueled and ready for flight, sir.”

  Jay almost smiled. It must irritate them to take orders from a criminal and to care for his ship as if it were part of their fleet. A lesser man might have abused that power, but not Jay. He didn’t want IA angry with him. He would check his ship for surveillance once they rescued the Qui, then he hoped to be done with the lot of them.

  “Excellent,” Jay replied.

  “We’ll leave immediately,” Tristan added, appearing beside him.

  Jay managed not to flinch. Tristan was very good at sneaking up on people.

  He turned and caught Tristan’s eyes. His gaze was expectant, as he was simply waiting for Jay to agree to his demand. There wasn’t any reason to argue, but Jay wanted to needle Tristan. Their arguments had been fun back at the diner, and even in Jay’s quarters the previous night they’d pushed one another, delighting in each reaction.

  But that was then, and this was a mission. They had to be professional.

  He couldn’t resist making a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm toward the ship. “After you, Agent Fox.”

  Tristan’s expression was unreadable. He looked Jay up and down but didn’t say another word as he stepped onboard the ship. Jay followed behind him. The moment he was inside and the door was shut, he let out a soft breath of relief. He could feel the claustrophobic layers of ‘Major Chapman’ peeling off him. He wasn’t dressed in a UCAFD uniform and once they left, no one would be calling him ‘sir’. He could already taste freedom in the air.

  They still needed to complete the mission, but the instinct to stand straight and fall into the chain of command was fading. This was his ship, and he wasn’t Major Chapman here. He was doing a mission for IA, but it didn’t mean he had to stop being the person he’d become—being Jaybird. He needed to be the lighthearted, devil-may-care Jay if he wanted to make it through without ugly memories resurfacing.

  Making his way to the helm of the ship, Jay turned his attention back to the present instead of the past. Tristan was already sitting in the co-pilot chair. Jay ignored the unfamiliar sight and sat down beside him. Jay booted up the engines and punched in the flight details.

  “This part of Asam isn’t fond of travelers,” Tristan remarked.

  Jay glanced at the agent. Tristan had leaned back and was reading the information on the screen with a frown. Jay grinned.

  “This part of Asam is fond of swindling travelers and sending them out in the desert to die.”

  Tristan sent him an unimpressed glare. “That would be my point.”

  “You just have to know the right way around them,” Jay said. “After all”—he winked—“they’re fonder of a blackguard than a tourist.”

  “Which is the entire reason the Kada’rah have such a strong foothold on the planet,” Tristan riposted, still scowling.

  “I think that’s unnecessarily harsh,” Jay remarked. He looked back at the screen, waiting for clearance to exit the docking bay. “Maybe they just like a good bit of fun.”

  He could feel Tristan’s eyes on him but didn’t turn to look.

  “I know who you are, Major Chapman,” Tristan said. “Why do you continue to act like Jaybird the thief?”

  Jay kept himself busy with the ship.

  “Why do you think it’s an act?”

  “It’s part of my job to know the difference.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re always right.”

  Outwardly, Jay kept himself relaxed and at ease, but inside he felt uncomfortable. Tristan’s eyes were sharp and he was analyzing Jay like he was a puzzle. Jay didn’t want the agent to solve him.

  “It doesn’t,” Tristan finally agreed. “I didn’t pick you for a soldier when we first met, but I knew you weren’t the carefree blackguard you pretend to be.”

  The intensity of his gaze reminded Jay of the previous night. Tristan saw people as mysteries to solve and discard. He’d done the same to Jay. They’d had sex, then he’d turned away and pulled on the role of an agent without a backward glance. He’d dismissed their physical attraction as if it were no longer relevant.

  Jay understood, to some degree. Tristan needed to separate himself from his emotions to survive and function as an undercover agent. Jay needed a similar mindset when in the field. Injury and feelings all had to be pushed aside for the sake of completing the mission. It wa
s only when he was back on the base that he could process them. When Jay had left the UCAFD, he’d taken a similar approach to his life and his past. The soldier was something he put to the side, and the thief was something he picked up to keep him focused and busy. Maybe Jaybird was a role, but it didn’t mean Jay wanted to admit that to Tristan.

  He didn’t want the man to learn why he’d become Jaybird.

  It left Jay unsure of what to say, and when he spoke, he surprised himself with his honesty.

  “I left the UCAFD five years ago, Tristan. You think Jaybird is an act? Well, so is Major Chapman. If we want to work together successfully, you need to understand that. You also need to call me Jay.”

  Tristan’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

  “Take it or leave it, Tristan,” Jay said, catching and holding his gaze. “But things will be easier and more amicable if you go along with my request.”

  “I don’t care what name you choose,” Tristan replied. “I just want to see our mission succeed.”

  “Good,” Jay answered.

  He was relieved they’d managed an agreement without descending into a verbal battle. It had been their main form of communication back at the diner, but this boded well for them working together.

  Maybe the sex really did take the edge off.

  A crackle from the communicators giving them approval for their departure focused Jay’s attention. He raised the ship off the deck and guided it to the bay doors. It didn’t take long for the cargo bay to clear, allowing him to finally exit the IA craft. Jay sighed with relief as he looked at the blanket of stars before him. Asam and its moons were in the distance, looking beautiful and peaceful. In moments like this, Jay could appreciate why some people devoted their lives to flying. Jay preferred to have his feet on the ground as he explored a new place, but staring out at the vastness of space? Jay loved that. He’d tasted the freedom of the universe, and he would forever crave the adventure that came from traveling through it.