Friendly Fire

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Friendly Fire Page 16

by Cari Z.


  “Talk to your mother,” Lennox said automatically before his body caught up with his brain and he snatched the phone out of Elliot’s hands. “What― I didn’t even know you took this.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you, for fear you’d delete it before I got a chance to show it off,” Elliot said blithely. “I was waiting for the most appreciative audience.”

  “It’s so cute,” Lee advised him. “I asked Elliot to send it to me; I’m going to use it for your contact picture.”

  “You’re a strange, strange girl,” Lennox told her. “You feeling better now that you’re all punched out? Not too tired, not too sore?”

  “I’m fine.” Lee tilted her head in assessment. “Although I’d really love pizza for dinner.”

  “Your mom left you chili.”

  “And the beans are gross, Dad, how many times do I have to tell you?”

  “I could really go for pizza tonight,” Elliot agreed. “And I’ve been unwell, so you should humor me.”

  Lennox stared back and forth between them for a moment, then sighed loudly to cover up the sudden surge of warmth in his chest. “You two are menaces when you get the same idea.”

  “Ooh, counselor, I object to your hideous slander,” Elliot teased. “The only possible reparation that can be accepted at this point is pizza.”

  Lee nodded regally. “I concur.”

  “Well, then.” One night of avoiding her mom’s chili wouldn’t hurt her. “Pizza it is.”

  Naturally, Elliot knew of an Italian restaurant that did a thinner, more authentic pizza instead of the deep dish, oil-drenched fare that Lennox was used to. It was still good, and Lee agreed to think about joining the boxing team as long as Lennox talked to Gaby about getting her out of ballet either way. Most of the conversation was between her and Elliot: Serena, movies, what kind of superpower they’d pick if they could have one.

  “Telekinesis,” Lee said at once. “So I could do all my chores with my mind, and when someone bothered me at school I could shove them and they wouldn’t know it was me.”

  That was the first Lennox had heard of an issue at school. “Who’s been bothering you?”

  “Just a stupid idiot who thought it would be funny to snap my bra strap in gym class,” Lee replied. “I told the teacher,” she added in an attempt to mollify him. “And he got in trouble, which is good because if he hadn’t I was going to—”

  “Ah-ah, never confess to hypotheticals,” Elliot interjected. “It gives people the wrong idea about you for no reason. Since you didn’t do it, it doesn’t matter.”

  “I’d rather know if my daughter is thinking about punching some jackass in her gym class,” Lennox said, but Lee was nodding along with Elliot.

  “It was fine. The teacher took care of it,” she said firmly. “What would your power be, Elliot?”

  “Telepathy, no question. Reading minds would have made my first job so much easier.”

  The mere thought of somebody else being able to look into his mind gave Lennox chills. “Good thing telepathy doesn’t exist, then,” he muttered.

  “I’m pretty good at telling when people are lying, even without a superpower,” Elliot said lightly. “And don’t think you’re getting out of playing. What would your power be?”

  “Time travel.” He said it without thinking, but the idea of being able to go back in time and unfuck everything he’d done wrong . . . he’d dwelled on that thought way more than was probably healthy in the past. His hand tightened around his glass of water, and he had to force himself to let go.

  “Like in Doctor Who!” Lee exclaimed, for once perfectly oblivious. “Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey!” Lennox breathed a silent sigh of relief as the topic turned to television shows he hadn’t seen.

  Gaby still wasn’t home by the time they dropped Lee off, which spared Lennox a conversation he didn’t particularly want to have about the other person in his truck. Elliot was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride back, probably due to fatigue. They got all the way inside the house and took a moment to deal with a frantically happy Holly, who was equally frantic to go outside and pee, before Elliot turned to Lennox with clear intent in his eyes.

  He wrapped his arms around Lennox’s neck and pulled him in close. “You are stupidly sexy even in the rattiest outfits,” he murmured as he trailed his lips over Lennox’s neck, tongue flicking out to taste. “Your gym clothes could belong to a hobo; they should not be sexy. Holes aren’t hot.”

  Lennox huffed out a laugh. “Some holes are hot.”

  “No, don’t attempt innuendo, you’re terrible at it.” Elliot kissed the point of Lennox’s jaw. “Fortunately you have other sterling qualities.”

  “I thought you might be too tired for those other qualities.”

  Elliot laughed and straddled Lennox’s thigh, grinding his erection against the muscle. “I’m bruised, not dead.” There was a note of genuine desperation in his voice that Lennox hadn’t counted on. “You have no idea how you look. None at all. I bet there are always people watching you when you’re working out in there, aren’t they? They can’t take their eyes off you either.”

  Well, sure, but that was because people liked to watch the sparring. It didn’t matter who was in the ring. “You’re biased,” Lennox told him, but his blood heated as his body responded to Elliot.

  “Biased in favor of your mouth on my dick, definitely,” Elliot said. “We should do that. On the stairs, because you were cruel earlier and I haven’t been able to get them out of my mind since.”

  “We’d be more comfortable in a bed,” Lennox argued.

  “Whatever.” Elliot kissed him, hard and needy. “I’m not going anywhere until I come, unless you carry me.”

  That sounded like a challenge. Lennox hadn’t worked out nearly as much as he usually did tonight, so it was easy to slide his hands down beneath Elliot’s butt and lift his feet off the floor. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said, and Elliot obeyed, wide-eyed.

  “Nobody has picked me up since high school,” he remarked as Lennox walked them over to the stairs. Elliot wasn’t a small man by any means, but Lennox barely felt his weight as he climbed, absorbed by the heat Elliot gave off, and how good it felt to hold him like this. “Not since I tried out for wrestling. I was awful at it, but it was worth the pain to be pinned by Ricky Otero.”

  Lennox reached Elliot’s unmade bed and gently tipped him onto it, careful to remember his bruises as he followed Elliot down. He bracketed Elliot’s torso with his arms, leaned in, and murmured, “And how does it feel to be pinned by me?”

  “So much better.” Elliot tried to press up against him but winced. “Except for that, fuck.”

  Lennox sat back and placed a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “Okay. I’m going to blow you, and you’re going to lie there and take it like I want you to. Sound like a good plan?”

  Elliot’s eyes were dark. “It sounds even better than being pinned.”

  “Oh, that’s not going to stop just because I’m not covering all of you.” Lennox let the edge of the pure, smoldering want that was coursing through him come out in his smile and long, slow look. “Because the way I want you to take it? Is without moving a muscle.”

  “Except to touch you.”

  Lennox shook his head as he stripped his T-shirt off and threw it over the side of the bed. “Nope. No touching anything, not even yourself, until I’m done with you. I want to be the only thing you think about.” Not your pain, not your car, nothing but me. It was nice to see Elliot being friendly toward Lennox’s coworkers and daughter, but there was something thrilling about being the recipient of all of his attention. Lennox wanted to pass that feeling along.

  Elliot gestured at himself. “I’m still dressed.”

  “I’ll take care of that. Although next time?” Lennox leaned down until his chest barely brushed Elliot’s, tilted his head, and whispered, “You should wear clothes you don’t mind having ripped off.”

  “Holy shiii . . .” Elliot’s voice tr
ailed off as Lennox got started on his belt after checking his shoes were gone. Few things killed the mood like getting tangled in clothes. It wasn’t easy, but he stuck to his guns about not letting Elliot help with anything, pulling back the moment Elliot’s hands moved. Being bitched out had never been so satisfying before.

  Lennox took his time and told Elliot everything he wanted to do to him, now and later, as he went. It was torturous for both of them, but Lennox liked it. “I can’t play with these tonight.” He brushed Elliot’s nipples with the backs of his fingers after he’d finally bared his chest. “It’s too bad, because I’d love to bruise them up, pinch them until you’re begging me to either let go or do more.”

  “How is it possible,” Elliot demanded, “that I’m the one who reads people for a living, and yet you’re able to play me like a fucking flute in just two dates?”

  “Two dates with my kid around, no less,” Lennox agreed. He stroked his hand down Elliot’s stomach, curling his fingertips under the edge of the soft cotton briefs. “You forget I was a sergeant for a long time. It’s an interesting job.” He slid his fingers inside the front of the briefs. “You’ve got to be able to interpret orders in the field, work with young lieutenants, keep your enlisted men from fucking up. You think I didn’t read people for a living?” Lennox drew Elliot’s silky cock through the gap and bent over it, rubbing his stubbly face along the shaft. Elliot shivered, but Lennox gave him a pass for involuntary movements.

  “I can read you, Elliot, because I want to. You have all . . . my . . . attention.” Elliot’s cock was leaking now, a slow, pearling bead sliding down the side. Lennox lapped it up, and Elliot groaned. “Keep your hands down,” Lennox reminded him.

  “Such a control freak,” Elliot grunted, but lowered his arms back onto the bed.

  “You say that like it’s not a turn-on, baby.” Lennox gave in and closed his lips around the head, sucking slowly. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do hands-free, but he needed them to hold himself up―as much as he wanted to grind down on top of Elliot, it wasn’t going to happen right now. He remembered how it had felt, being on top, fucking his mouth while Elliot fingered him open.

  That wouldn’t be tonight, but maybe he could spare a hand after all. Lennox shifted his weight, then slid his fingers over the cotton covering Elliot’s hole. Elliot bucked up like he’d been tased. “Oh, fuck, touch me like that―do it again.”

  “If you keep bouncing around, I will tie my hand behind my own back before I use it on you,” Lennox warned him.

  “Interesting kink.” Elliot gave a wide, exhilarated grin. “Fine, fine, no moving, just . . . I like it. I like that.”

  “Good.” It was good to know it; it was better to use it, rubbing his thumb across the tight fabric until Elliot’s muscles quivered like they wanted to reach out and grope him. Lennox kept sucking, kept fondling him, didn’t stop until Elliot, with a drawn-out groan, came in his mouth.

  It seemed like forever since Lennox had gone so far with a guy that he could actually taste him. He wanted to wring Elliot dry, wanted to suck him until he had every last drop, but Elliot was already a quivering mess and Lennox needed to get himself out and relieve his own pressure. He needed a touch, just a tiny touch . . .

  He jerked his jeans down, pulled his underwear off, and cupped his aching balls with a sigh of relief. Just a little further―

  “Fuck, get up here.” Elliot made grabby hands at him and Lennox went with it, crawling on hands and knees until he was bracketing Elliot’s torso. He couldn’t touch himself now, but he didn’t need to: Elliot did it for him, stroking his cock with both hands. Lennox fucked Elliot’s grip, less than an inch above his mottled skin, breathing in every one of Elliot’s exhalations as he strove to come, a bit more and he would come, he could—

  Elliot leaned up and kissed him like he wanted to devour him, hungry and sharp. Lennox shouted into the kiss as he came, finally―it felt like he’d been waiting forever—and now he was painting Elliot in his mess, covering his hot hands with slick release and it was perfect. He let himself go, only enough to brush their bodies together, and Elliot smiled against his slack mouth. The urge to settle in and hold on was almost too strong to resist.

  He hummed happily, then nipped Elliot’s lower lip before pulling back. “You’re fucking fantastic, you know that?”

  “I’m also a fantastic fuck.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” Lennox kissed him again. “Now, bathroom.”

  Elliot shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here and enjoy this thing some of us like to call the afterglow. You can go be responsible.”

  “You’re probably going to pass out in five minutes,” Lennox said. He knew he was right; Elliot could barely keep his eyes open. “You should stand while you still can, brush your teeth, clean up.”

  Elliot lifted a haughty eyebrow. “You realize that you aren’t my father, yes? You’re a father, but if being called ‘Daddy’ is another one of your kinks, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.”

  Lennox made a disgusted face and got off the bed. “No, Jesus. I just don’t want to wake up to morning breath that’s any more hideous than it has to be.”

  “Oh yeah?” Elliot sounded pleased. “I take it you’re planning on sleeping in here tonight, then.”

  Lennox nodded. “If that’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it is. I was going to offer anyway, but handsome men who suck me off definitely get to stay in the bed.”

  “Good.” They shared a little smile. “So, brushing your teeth . . .”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  It wasn’t until they were under the covers, close but not quite touching, that Elliot pulled the trigger on something Lennox had hoped he hadn’t heard. “So, the nightmares you warned me about last time . . . that’s why you won’t let Lee spend the night at your place?”

  Fuck. Lennox didn’t want to talk about this, but Elliot would probably keep asking if he tried to shut him down. In his defense, it was a pertinent situation, since they were in bed together. “Yeah. I, ah . . . I woke her up the last time she stayed over. She came in to check on me and when she shook my shoulder, I woke up—abruptly. I didn’t hurt her,” Lennox insisted, because damn it, he hadn’t lost that much of his mind. “I shoved her back, and I was loud, but I didn’t hurt her. But the rest of the night was . . .”

  Awful. God, it had been so rough, trying to comfort a daughter who’d only wanted to help him before he’d literally pushed her away. Lee had cried for over an hour and it had taken Gaby coming to pick her up to really calm her down. She’d been horribly embarrassed afterward, but by then Lennox had already decided it wasn’t worth disturbing her like that again just for her to spend every other weekend with him. He simply had to make an effort to see her more often, that was all. She’d understand, and maybe one day the nightmares would stop and she could come back.

  “It sounds rough. But at least you’re talking about it, and trying to do something about it.” Elliot’s tone was somewhere between intimate and expository, like he was used to saying these things in front of a camera. “The effort is important, trust me.”

  “Are you using your psychobabble wiles on me?”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen wiles until you let me do some neuro-linguistic programming,” Elliot said, but Lennox heard the smile in his voice.

  “Remind me not to make bets with you, then.” He could have let things go there, but as long as they were delving into uncomfortable territory . . . “Do you like hanging out with Lee because she reminds you of your sister’s kids?”

  “Not only because of that,” Elliot said after a moment’s pause. “She’s interesting all on her own, not to mention that being in your company is obviously going to involve her. But I’d be lying if I said that certain similarities never crossed my mind.”

  “Have you ever thought about flat-out asking to see them?”

  “No. I respect Vanessa’s decision.” Though he clearly didn’t like it. “Someday, aft
er I’ve treaded carefully enough, she’ll relax the rules. I just have to be patient.” Elliot rolled over to face the wall. “Sleep well, Lennox.”

  It was as good as a gag on further conversation. Probably for the best. “You too.”

  Excerpt from Shockwave’s article:

  Thirty minutes into my interview, I found out two things: one, I’m not going to get any clientele names out of McKenzie, which stands to reason since confidentiality is a promise of his. Two, and more surprisingly: he’s comfortable contracting out his network security. This is unusual because most startups like to keep their proprietary information as close to themselves as possible. Elliot’s explanation?

  “I’m not a computer whiz,” he says with no hint of self-deprecation, just a man stating a fact. “But I know people who are. One of them offered to help me when I was getting started, and they’ve done an excellent job in providing a safe, secure forum for members to talk in.”

  “Aren’t you afraid that, as your company grows, they’ll be under pressure to sell you out?” I ask. Corporate sabotage is a growing industry, especially in the digital age.

  He smiles confidently at me. “Everyone who has anything to do with the running of my company is also a member. They have a personal stake in maintaining our security.”

  In other words, keep your friends close, keep your business partners closer.

  Going back to work the next morning was a relief. While being alone with Lennox felt oddly comfortable, it felt perhaps almost too comfortable for his own good. It wasn’t that Elliot didn’t feel safer with him around—there was no doubt of that. He knew his own strengths, and defending himself wasn’t anywhere near the top of that list. Not to mention, he’d already requested Lennox’s presence during preparations for the Meetup. But the two of them alone together?

  It felt too close to something Elliot hadn’t had for years, something he had long since convinced himself that he didn’t want now. Mischa had been an eye-opener for him, and even if he had fewer regrets about his former lover, he didn’t want to repeat the experience. It made him nervous that Lennox fit so well into the empty places he tried hard not to dwell on these days. He didn’t want to make himself more vulnerable―he was vulnerable enough to his sister, who wasn’t around. He didn’t need to worry about any relationship riskier than that right now.

 

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