I Spy a Naughty Game

by Jo Davis

  “We’ve all been there, friend,” he said in sympathy, pulling two bottles from the fridge. “Can I ask who you’re talking about?”

  “I’d rather not say.” The other man took his beer and twisted off the top. “Here’s to unrequited love.”

  “And crotch rot visited upon those who don’t appreciate us.”

  Bastian laughed and they clinked bottles. Blaze studied the man, and his interest grew by the second. There was a certain vulnerability in his new friend’s eyes, a weariness that called to him and had him wanting to make things better. Curiosity got the better of him.

  “You’re gay, then? I never would’ve guessed.”

  “Bi. Does that bother you?” Bastian asked, tensing a little.

  “Not at all. I prefer women, but I’ve topped a few guys, and the sex can be just as satisfying. Sometimes a man will come to me who’s heard of my rep as a good Dom and just needs a cathartic S&M session, no sex. It’s good stress relief for a sub, and there are even studies that show it.”

  Bastian laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a constant surprise, Kelly.”

  He wanted to ask in what way, and address the spark of interest that flared in the man’s eyes. Instead, he asked the question that had been on his mind since he’d stopped by Bastian’s new office. “I’d like to ask you something else, but if it’s too personal, just tell me.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why did Dietz get the CEO’s job over you? From what I’ve seen, he’s got the suave lines of bull down in spades, but you have the genuine caring for your fellow agents that he’s never had.”

  Bastian looked away, seemed to curl in on himself. “You make plans, but life has different ones. That’s how it goes.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the man who doesn’t know you’re alive?”

  “Could be. Doesn’t matter.”

  Blaze wasn’t stupid. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, and he had a feeling he knew who’d hurt the other man so badly. And he thought it did matter a helluva lot, but it wasn’t his place to push. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think this guy is an idiot of biblical proportions.”

  “Thanks, that helps.” A smile lit those amazing jade green eyes, which slowly swept his body from head to toe and back again. Polishing off half his beer, Bastian set it on the counter and continued his silent appraisal, making his desire perfectly clear.

  As if the bulge between his thighs didn’t send the message. Blaze admired how the man’s expensive suit outlined his athletic frame from his strong shoulders to his narrow waist and flat belly. He’d bet the body underneath the conservative clothing was a treat, and his cock stirred to life, begging to find out.

  “Bastian, I can name a whole slew of reasons why we shouldn’t.” His attempt to be reasonable didn’t sound very convincing.

  “So can I. But right now, what I need is to feel wanted. It’s not something I’ve felt in far too long.”

  His vulnerability tugged at Blaze’s heart. Putting aside his own beer, he stepped close to Bastian, pleased when he didn’t move away. “We’ve all been there. Maybe we both need to forget everything, just for a while?”

  “Maybe we do.”

  He reached out, brushed a thumb over Bastian’s plump lower lip. “Do you bottom?”

  “Yes,” he said, eyes darkening with lust. “I like it all.”

  “Good. Because I don’t bottom. Ever.” Dropping his hand, he indicated the other man’s clothing. “Strip to the waist.”

  Bastian looked momentarily startled by the order, but then he slid off his jacket and holster, hanging both over the back of a nearby chair in the breakfast nook. His tie and dress shirt came off next, and he stood waiting.

  Gorgeous. A wonderful example of prime male flesh, his for the taking. And take it he would. Whoever had hurt this sexy golden angel—and he thought he knew who—was one dumb son of a bitch.

  “Good. Now, come kneel in front of me and unzip my jeans.”

  Without argument, Bastian crossed to him and knelt. Fingers trembling, he managed the task and pulled the material slightly apart. “You aren’t wearing underwear,” he said hoarsely.

  “Gets in the way. Take out my cock and balls, and don’t speak again unless I give you permission.” His lover stared at him and nodded, face glowing with arousal. Blaze didn’t know if he’d ever played the submissive before, but if not, he was quite the natural. That was evident in the way he followed orders without question, pulling Blaze’s jeans down some, removing his thick erection and heavy balls. “Touch me, let me feel your tongue.”

  Skilled fingers manipulated his sac, the touch warm and sure. He groaned as Bastian’s tongue flicked out, licking the length of his rod, swirling the head. His erection was deep red and throbbing, needing more. “Suck it. I want to see it disappear between those pretty lips, feel it slide down that gorgeous throat.”

  In the next instant, his cock was surrounded in warm, wet heaven. There was nothing he loved better in the world than to have a beautiful sub under his control, doing his bidding. The power was intoxicating, as good as the actual sex, never failing to fuel his lust even more.

  Bastian was good at sucking cock, laving the underside with his wet tongue as he increased the friction and took the member deeper. Threading his fingers through the bright blond strands of the other man’s hair, Blaze fucked that glorious mouth slowly, until he was in danger of ending things much too soon.

  He nudged Bastian, pulling back gently. “Stop. Stand up, take down your pants and underwear, face the counter, and brace yourself with your legs spread.” His lover complied, erection bobbing as he moved into position without hesitation. “Don’t move.”

  Quickly, he retrieved a condom and lube from his bedroom and returned, gratified to find his hot sub still waiting. Back arched, ass poking out in invitation, he was quite the sight. After sheathing his cock, Blaze took the lube and spread a generous amount on the length, then squirted more on his fingers.

  Putting the tube aside, he parted the smooth ass cheeks and dipped a finger past the taut ring, the whimper from his prey increasing the delicious humming in his veins. Then two fingers, stretching, preparing. A bite of pain with the pleasure was often very satisfying, but he didn’t want to truly hurt his partner.

  Leaning forward, he kissed Bastian’s temple. “How do you want it? Rough? Or slow and easy?”

  “Fast and hard,” he breathed. “So hard I want to feel it next week. It’s been so long.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Removing his fingers, he positioned the broad head of his cock and gripped his partner’s hips. Began to push into the tight, sweet hole. Unable to resist, he thrust all the way to his balls and was gratified by the other man’s moan of delirium.

  “Oh, yes . . . please, fuck me hard.”

  He withdrew and slammed deep again. And again. Faster and faster until he’d established a brisk tempo, fucking his lover with punishing strokes. Giving them both what they wanted.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he rumbled, sweat rolling down his cheek. “So tight and hot, gripping my cock. Such a sweet, beautiful ass.”

  “Oh, God!”

  Bastian stiffened with a cry, body spasming with the force of his orgasm. Two, three more thrusts and Blaze followed, burying himself deep, pumping his load into that delectable ass. On and on, filling him with cum. Whoever didn’t want this man was crazy.

  When the shocks faded, he draped himself over his partner’s back and splayed his fingers over the man’s smooth throat, urging him back. Bastian leaned into him and offered himself for a kiss: a final, lovely gesture of submission.

  Blaze took what he offered, kissing him deeply, the connection an affirmation of the pleasure they’d shared. He broke the kiss at last and nuzzled his partner’s neck. “Thank you for giving yourself to me. You’re fantastic.”

  “No, thank you. Having someone like you desire me, take me like that, gives me hope that I’m not so invisible after all.
”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Exciting, dominant, powerful. Everything I’m not.”

  “I’d like to beat the bastard who made you feel that way about yourself,” he said, easing from the tight channel. “You’re extremely exciting, or couldn’t you tell by how enthusiastically I pounded your fine ass?”

  Bastian laughed, his face pinking a bit as he tugged his pants on again. “Good point. I’m feeling pretty great about myself at the moment, considering.”

  “If you weren’t, I’d worry that I did something wrong.” He tied off the condom and disposed of it in the garbage can, then tucked himself inside his jeans.

  “No way. You did everything exactly right.”

  “Glad you think so.” He paused, studying the other man’s expression. “You’re quite the submissive, very responsive. Did you know that about yourself ?”

  “Not really, no. I guess I’ve never really explored that side of myself. I always thought submissive equaled weak, especially in the eyes of—” He looked away, clamping his lips shut.

  “Of the one you love?” he probed gently.

  Bastian looked at him and nodded. “Yeah. Don’t most people see it that way?”

  “Only misinformed people. It takes a very strong person to submit, to reach that place inside himself or herself that allows them to place their body, their very safety completely in another person’s hands. It’s all about trust and letting go.”

  “When you put it like that, it sounds beautiful.”

  The longing in the man’s voice touched him, and he made a quick decision. “It is. I want to show you something. Come on.”

  “What is it?” his friend asked, trailing him.

  “I’m going to show you my basement dungeon.”

  “You mean . . . as in whips and chains?” He sounded nervous.

  “Yep. My private playpen. The place where I make all good subs scream.”

  “Shit!”

  “And Bastian?”

  “Yes?”

  “You might want to use your cell phone and let them know you’ll be out sick for the rest of the day,” he said slyly, chuckling at the other man’s tortured groan.

  He counted his lucky stars that Bastian had dropped by today with news. The man was lonely, in need of a self-esteem boost, and Blaze had the cure.

  It might just be the distraction he needed as well, to take his mind off his worry about another sexy blonde.

  One very dear to his heart.

  Emma paced her room—no, her prison—ready to pull her hair out. J.C. had been conspicuously absent after their scorching night together, and other than the meals that had been brought to her room for the past three days, she’d been pretty much ignored. Had something happened to her protector? Oh, God, maybe Dietz had found out his cover and killed him. Maybe she was next. She felt like an animal in a cage, quietly going insane from stress and isolation.

  The lock turned and the door burst open, making her jump, pressing a hand over her thundering heart. J.C. closed the door and walked briskly toward her, putting a finger over his lips to warn her from saying anything.

  “I’ve missed you, sweet thing,” he said with a lightheartedness that didn’t meet his eyes. “Give me a hug.”

  “Me, too. It’s boring in here.” She accepted the hug, tensing when he whispered in her ear, almost too low to be heard.

  “Be ready to move tonight. Dietz has decided you’re too big of a liability and is planning to get rid of you.”

  Oh, God. “O-okay.”

  “I’ll be back around midnight, so have on your running shoes,” he whispered. Then, in a louder voice, “Damn, you give good hugs. And other stuff, too.”

  “Thanks. Back at you. Can you stay for a while?”

  “I wish I could. I’ve got a ton of things to do, plus patrol this evening. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you have everything you need, or if you want me to find you a book. I know it sucks with no TV.”

  “Well, I’d like a magazine to read, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  He winked, and she got the message. They’d be gone before the magazine became necessary. “No problem. Any certain kind?”

  “No, whatever is lying around is fine.”

  “All right. I’ll be back when I can.” Midnight, he mouthed.

  She nodded, knowing how big a risk he was taking in getting her safely away from this hellhole. He was jeopardizing his mission to save one innocent woman when the future of the free world was at stake. But being selfish, she didn’t want to die sooner than necessary, so she nodded, willing to allow him to take the chance.

  If that makes me a bad person, so be it.

  She longed to see Blaze again, hold him in her arms. Have him squeeze her and tell her everything would be all right now.

  A little bit longer, and she’d find out whether she’d ever see him again.

  The phone rang at nine thirteen.

  Blaze glanced at the caller ID and picked up. “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got Dietz’s location,” Bastian said. “The op is going wheels up in forty-five minutes. Be at the launch pad or be left behind. Michael wasn’t planning to call you until after they’d left.”

  Relief nearly sent him to his knees. Part of him had been afraid his friend wouldn’t go against Michael and the op would take place without him. “I’m there. How’s it going down?”

  “Two groups, two choppers. They’re going in quiet to get the drop on Dietz, hopefully recapture him alive and some of his cronies as well. No word on the weapon. Might be there, might not.”

  “You gonna catch shit for this?”

  “Probably, but don’t worry about it. He owes me.”

  No. He couldn’t let Bastian get in trouble. “Nah, I’ll take the heat. You may have given me the heads-up, but I’m the one crashing the party. My choice.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do. And Bastian, thanks.”

  “Thank me by bringing our agent home.”

  He was already moving even as he hung up, yanking his SIG from the holster and checking the clip, shoving it in again. He stuck one of his backup weapons in the waistband of his camouflage pants, and a smaller one in his ankle holster. His wicked M16, which he’d dubbed the Attitude Adjuster, he slung over one shoulder and headed out, less than thirty seconds after hanging up.

  The drive to the SHADO compound had never seemed so long. Still, he made it in record time and pulled through the gate about twenty minutes later, flashing his ID at the guard on night duty. Thankfully, the guy wasn’t in the mood to chat, and he continued on, parked, pulled his hair back in a ponytail, and jammed his camouflage hat on his head, pulling the brim low over his eyes. He didn’t often put his hair back, so he hoped fading into the background, along with the organized chaos, meant nobody would zero in on him—and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here—until things were well under way.

  Circling the main building, he jogged across the tarmac toward the small but lethal force gathering around two sleek, fast, armed helicopters. These were newer than the old Hueys they sometimes used, which were long-lived flying tanks, and didn’t make as much noise. Under return fire, however, the Huey was a better choice, made to take a licking. A trade-off either way.

  Scanning the two distinct groups from under his hat, he searched for Michael, not seeing him anywhere. No doubt it had never occurred to the man that his new right-hand would make his first official act to countermand a direct order.

  Well, that ought to make things a bit awkward around the office. So much for getting a Christmas card from the boss. Or even a bag of switches—which, by the way, were highly underrated.

  As the groups loaded up, Blaze chose one and mixed right in, then took a seat among them as though he’d received the same orders as everyone else. He didn’t breathe easier until the craft lifted off and was several miles into the flight, much too late to call off the op and return him to the compound.

>   There wasn’t much talking among the men, for which he was grateful. The biggest part of the ride passed in easy silence, livening up some only as they bore down on their destination.

  “Hope we catch that fucker,” one man called above the noise.

  “Then we’re gonna feed him his own dick,” another one said.

  “Hey, Kelly. Thought you was sittin’ this one out?” This from Byrd, a big bald guy who looked like Mr. Clean.

  “You heard wrong. Did you really think I was going to let your ugly ass grab all the glory?”

  Byrd grinned. “You can try and stop me.”

  The pilot put them down in a remote clearing—a couple of miles from their target, he guessed. Disembarking, he made himself as inconspicuous as possible. He wasn’t the team leader on this one—a fact that irked him to no end—but he’d have to follow for a change, something he hadn’t done in ages.

  A man named Rivera addressed them all. “Okay, listen up. The border of the estate is a half mile this way,” he said, pointing to the south with the muzzle of his weapon. “One point seven miles to the main house. The place is well guarded, so be careful. B-team, you’ll secure the perimeter. A-team, you’ll secure the main house. Just incapacitate them if you can help it—we want as many alive as possible. Eliminate those who challenge you and pose a real threat. Bring Agent Foster safely out. Any questions?”

  No one had any, so they got moving. Blaze assigned himself to A-team with a feral grin. Rivera wasn’t going to relish having to explain to their boss how he’d picked up an extra man without even noticing. For himself, he’d be damned lucky if he wasn’t fired.

  Emma was worth making a stand.

  He shunned the night vision goggles the others were wearing, and they took off, moving as stealthily as they could through the woods and bristling with weapons. He hated the NVG s and rarely used them, finding them to be weird and disorienting. He preferred to take out the enemy using his senses, like his ancestors used to do before such items were ever conceived. His senses were the only thing he trusted.