The Walls of Troy

by L. A. Witt

  I exhaled hard. The shiver made me grip him tighter, and we both groaned.

  “Just say the word,” I whispered. “Doesn’t have to be tonight.”

  He moaned again and lifted his hips, forcing himself into my fist. “If we…if we fuck,” he whispered, slurring ever so slightly. “Who’d be on top?”

  “Oh my God…” I closed my eyes and groaned as I simultaneously imagined him thrusting into me and me deep inside him, just like I had the night I’d given in and masturbated to him. “I don’t care who’s on top.” I dragged my lower lip across his. “As long as it’s with you.”

  I gripped the back of his neck as I kissed him, and swallowed his moans and gasps as I jerked his dick. Troy shuddered hard, and his cock stiffened in my hand, and I gripped him tighter and stroked him faster. Then his whole body tensed. He fucked into my fist and shivered, and then came hard, groaning against my lips as his semen coated my hand and landed on my stomach.

  He touched his forehead to mine. Every ragged breath he released rushed across my lips, and I was drunk on him, lost in him, as he came unraveled on top of me.

  With a heavy sigh, he shuddered one last time and slumped against me. “Jesus…”

  I grabbed some tissues off the nightstand, and after we’d both cleaned ourselves up, he collapsed against me. For the longest time, we just lay there, panting and shaking while the dust settled around us.

  After a while, he lifted himself up and met my eyes, and something in my chest sank into the pit of my stomach.

  Oh. Reality. Right.

  Shit.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “This is dangerous.”

  “Not in here. It’s only dangerous if we do it in public.”

  “Oh, no it’s not.” I glanced at him. “Your ex aside, let’s not pretend we aren’t playing with fire.”

  He sighed. “You’re probably right. But let’s also not pretend we can just ignore this.”

  God, wasn’t that the truth.

  I drew him down to rest his head on my shoulder. “I should go pretty soon. Before I stay too long and give us away.”

  “I know.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be right now.”

  “Good.”

  He settled against me, his head on my chest and my arm around his shoulders. I closed my eyes. For the longest time, we just lay there, and I listened to him breathe while my heartbeat slowly came down.

  This was utterly insane. And dangerous. And just…just insane. He was everything that shouldn’t have caught my attention. A superior’s kid. Over a decade younger than me. Makeup, dye, and piercings. He was timid and edgy where I liked my men experienced and bold. A calculated risk where I liked to play it safe.

  But here he was. Here we were.

  Troy was everything that shouldn’t have caught my attention, but tonight, he was all I could ever want.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Monday morning, I ran the clippers along the side of my head, trimming the hair all the way to the skin. I left the top longer, since I’d never been able to pull off a completely shaved head, but little by little gave myself a high-and-tight for the first time in weeks.

  Shaving off the longer hair reminded me of the day before I’d flown out of Iraq. Everyone let their hair grow longer in combat—haircuts just weren’t a priority out there—and something about returning to the regulation high-and-tight had been oddly freeing. Like a symbol of returning to the way things were supposed to be.

  It wasn’t quite the same this time. I wasn’t returning to the safety of a ship or a stateside base, but I was coming out of hiding. That fucker wanted to mess with Troy? Well, now he was going to know what he was dealing with. And hopefully he’d believe, for Troy’s sake, that my only role here was as a bodyguard.

  I met my own eyes and lowered the clippers.

  Bodyguard. That was the only role I had any right to play in this situation. It was my job. And for God’s sake, Troy was a traumatized twenty-year-old who needed safety—and probably some therapy, the poor kid—more than he needed a damned boyfriend. Or lover. Or fuck buddy. Or whatever the hell I was trying to be that didn’t quite jive with bodyguard. Getting hot and heavy with the thirty-something cop who was supposed to be joined at his hip for other reasons? Not a good plan.

  I scrutinized my reflection, but my haircut didn’t hold my attention. The cut on my forehead was a mix of angry reds and purples, with a hazy greenish-blue halo around it. My lip wasn’t so bad—the cut there had been little more than a scratch anyway and was already starting to heal up nicely.

  All of those marks on my face added up to the tiniest tip of the iceberg of reasons I needed to keep my hands off Troy. And yet at the same time, they only made that fierce protectiveness stronger, and I didn’t just want to protect him as his bodyguard. Some fucking jackass had come along and hurt him, treated him like shit and a piece of property, and I wanted to erase that damage.

  Of course I wanted him physically, but standing here looking myself in the eye, there was no pretending I only wanted him sexually. I liked the kid. I cared about his safety, and somewhere along the way, I’d warmed up to him too. Now that was tangled up with the physical desire and the need to protect him, and all of that melted together into one bruised, banged-up cop who was a fucking mess for Troy Dalton. In every possible way.

  Maybe Ben had rung my bell a bit harder than I’d thought.

  I stepped away from the mirror to grab a shower and wash away the clippings from my haircut. Then I put on my uniform—blue digital camouflage from my shoulders to my boots—and police belt. It felt kind of weird to wear all that now. I’d been wearing various uniforms for fifteen years, but I’d gotten used to wearing civvies for the last several weeks. That, and going to class like this, was intended to send a message to Ben.

  I’m his bodyguard, asshole. I’m here to protect him from you. I’m not his boyfriend.

  I’d better not be his boyfriend. Or lover. Or whatever.

  Fuck, I am so screwed.

  And I was going to be late if I didn’t leave, so I grabbed my keys and book bag and headed down to the car.

  On the way up the interstate, inching through the morning commute and getting closer to Troy, I caught my reflection in the rearview and paused to hold my own gaze. The cut on my forehead, not to mention the scrape and bruise, made my heart thump harder.

  This was dangerous. So, so dangerous.

  All the way to Virginia Beach, I couldn’t get Troy out of my head. Oh hell, who was I kidding? It was much too late for that. He was in my head, under my skin—I didn’t stand a chance.

  And I wasn’t just wrapped up in all the dangers and all the reasons I now understood why Troy was so fucking scared. I was wrapped up in…in him.

  I shouldn’t have been.

  But I was.

  And I knew I was in epically deep shit when I walked into the house.

  Troy was just coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his lips parted. He didn’t even try to hide the long look he gave me, or the way that look traveled all the way down to my boots and right back up. After a moment, he continued down the stairs.

  “That, uh…” He coughed, cheeks flushing slightly as our eyes met. “That looks good on you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He gave me another down-up. “Maybe having you in uniform was a bad idea.”

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  He ran his tongue across his lower lip. “Why do you think?”

  My heart skipped. “We should… Let me check in with Fowler, and then we should get to class.”

  “Right. Yeah.” He shouldered his backpack. “Let’s go.”

  I didn’t hear a word the professor said. Whenever I touched my pen to the lined paper in front of me, nothing happened. I was still vigilant, still aware of our surr
oundings and ready if anyone dared threaten Troy, but as far as the lecture went, I was fucking useless. Anything that didn’t involve Troy was in another world as far as I was concerned, and my brain homed in on him, on anything that might cause him harm, and…and him. Just him.

  I made it through the day on autopilot and even managed to get us back to the house without crashing the car, but goddamn, I was a mess.

  It didn’t help that Troy seemed equally out of sorts. I caught him staring off into space during our history class like half a dozen times. I didn’t call him out on it, though. The only reason I’d noticed was because I’d been staring off into space myself, and my gaze had wandered over to him. Again.

  Not speaking, not looking at each other, we headed up the steps and into the house. The dogs came up to greet Troy as they always did, and I turned to go to the security office to download.

  “Iskander, wait.”

  I turned.

  “You, um…” He avoided my gaze for a second. “Do you want to come upstairs? To study?”

  “You really think we’ll get any studying done if we do?”

  Troy looked me right in the eye. “I know we won’t.”

  Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

  I exhaled. “We really shouldn’t.”

  “I know.” He chewed his lip. “So, do you want to come upstairs?”

  Yes. Oh my God, yes.

  “Let me, um…” I gestured at my holster. “Let me go download.”

  He nodded. “Okay. You know where to find me.”

  I so do…

  If I’d had any doubt about Troy’s intentions—and I sure as fuck did not—they vanished the instant he opened his bedroom door.

  His shirt was gone, revealing smooth abs and a thin treasure trail that drew my attention straight down to the front of his low-slung jeans.

  Against my better judgment, I stepped past him, into the room, and gulped as he closed the bedroom door. When I turned around, he gestured at my police belt. “You should take that thing off. It might get in the way.”

  “Good idea.” I unbuckled the bulky belt and set it on the floor by our feet. “Better?”

  “Much better.”

  And with that, he grabbed my camouflage blouse, pulled me to him, and kissed me. Oh fuck, to hell with it—there was no resisting him. Not when he kissed me this hungrily, forcing my lips apart with his tongue and pressing that hot, half-naked body against mine.

  His fingers hissed across the recently shaved sides of my head. “Goddammit, you look hot like this.” His other hand slid up my thigh but stopped midway. Didn’t lift up, didn’t continue, just…stopped. And stayed there. Body heat radiated from his palms, right through the camouflage and onto my skin.

  “You really do have a thing for military, don’t you?”

  “I so do.” He kissed me again as he shoved my blouse off my shoulders, but left the dark blue T-shirt in place.

  “You know we’re never going to get any studying done in here.”

  “No, we’re not.” He ran his hand up my inner thigh. “Maybe we should switch majors to something focusing on human anatomy.”

  “I don’t know. Studying it might take the—” I sucked in a breath as he cupped my dick through my pants. “Might take…the fun out of it.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” He squeezed just enough to make me groan.

  “Jesus, Troy…” I wrapped my arms around him. “So much for studying together any time soon, right?”

  “Did you really think we’d get anything done?”

  “Not a chance.” I brushed a few strands of blue-black hair out of his face. “I don’t even remember what the professor talked about today.”

  “Neither do I.” He dropped a light kiss on my lips. “Can’t say I really care either.”

  “Mmm, neither do I.” I grinned. “I do, however, care that you have too many clothes on.”

  Troy shivered and drew back. “Maybe I should fix that, then?”

  He pulled off his shirt, and as he unbuttoned his pants, I leaned down to untie my boots, but he put a hand on my arm.

  “Leave those on.” He licked his lips. “It looks hot.”

  “How much do you want me to leave on?”

  He shrugged. “You can take your shirt off.”

  “Oh, can I?”

  He met my eyes, a devilish sparkle in his. “Well, you don’t have to…”

  “Uh-huh.” I stripped off my T-shirt while he took off everything except his boxers. His sudden boldness surprised me, but given how uncertain and borderline timid he’d been the other night, I wasn’t going to argue. Nor was I going to object when he pushed me down onto the bed and got on top.

  “You know what you want, don’t you?” I whispered.

  “Mmhmm.” He ground against me, bringing back all the mind-blowing sensations from the other night. “I want you.”

  I shivered. “Likewise, believe me.” I dragged him down into a kiss. “You sure you want me wearing all these clothes?”

  “They look hot on you.” He ran his hand down my side, pausing at my waistband. “But they are in the way, aren’t they?”

  “Just a bit.”

  He lifted himself off me, and I made quick work of unbuttoning my camouflage trousers. Between us, we managed to push them down enough to get out of the way.

  As he kissed me again, Troy closed his fingers around my cock. Jesus, but I loved the things he did with his hands. He knew just how to stroke, how hard to squeeze, when to add the slightest, most mind-blowing twist, and I could’ve let him do this all night long.

  He had other plans, though. His hand slowed, and then he shifted. I opened my eyes and…

  Oh God.

  Oh dear, God, his mouth on my cock…

  I pushed myself up onto my forearms and watched him. Fuck, I could barely breathe, and I didn’t know how much of that was because of what he was doing with his lips and tongue, and how much of it was the sight of him doing it.

  He was the perfect contrast to me, the nonconformist in black and makeup as he held himself up over my disheveled uniform. His carefully arranged hair fell down over his forehead. Every time he bobbed his head, his piercings caught the light. The slightest furrow of his brow spoke of the intense concentration, and his little moans that I felt more than heard drove me crazy.

  And when his eyes flicked up to meet mine through the strings of stray black hair, the tear-smeared eyeliner fucking did me in.

  “Fuck…” I stroked his hair just so I could touch him, so I could brush it out of the way and see his eyes. His watering, black-ringed eyes that were so full of lust and need and a hint of devilishness.

  Then he lowered his gaze and took my cock all the way into his mouth.

  “Holy fuck, Troy.” My eyes rolled back. “D-don’t stop.”

  He did, though, and as my nearly there orgasm receded, I wanted to protest, but then he was over me, and kissing me, and all I could do was kiss him back and touch him all over and not give a damn that I hadn’t come yet.

  “I want to suck you off,” he murmured, “but not this time. I want you to fuck me.”

  Oh Christ.

  “Are you sure?” I ran my fingertips up his back as I squirmed underneath him. “You said the other night—”

  “I know. But I…I want to.” He lifted himself up and met my eyes. “I was nervous the first time, but…”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Troy.”

  “You won’t. I should’ve known there was nothing safer than sex with my bodyguard.”

  “Being your bodyguard has nothing to do with it.” I drew him closer. “You’re safe with me no matter what.”

  He smiled. “I know. That’s why I don’t want to stop.”

  Except it’s every reason why we should stop.

  But I didn’t stop. I
kissed him again, and I didn’t stop him from rubbing his groin against mine just like he didn’t stop me from sliding my hands over his firm ass.

  Breaking the kiss, he avoided my eyes and gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to come, though.”

  “You came last time.”

  “I know, but we weren’t…” His cheeks colored again.

  “But will you enjoy it? Even if you don’t come?”

  “I…” He swallowed hard. “I want to. I just…” He held my gaze, though it seemed to be a struggle. “I haven’t been this far with anyone since…” He broke eye contact, but drew me closer. “I’ve made it this far tonight, and I need to keep going. I can’t…” Our eyes met again. “Please.”

  I ran my fingers through his hair. I couldn’t imagine sex being a Sisyphean ordeal, the climb up the hill taxing him so much that he wanted to push forward rather than risk having to start all over again.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Please. And I…I want you on top.”

  My chest tightened. “You do?”

  “Yes.” He cupped my face and kissed me. “I trust you.”

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  “I know.”

  I pressed my lips to his again. “Just say stop if you want to.”

  Troy nodded.

  “Turn around.”

  He did, and as he held himself up on his hands and knees, he was trembling.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just…can’t wait.”

  Neither can I.

  But I didn’t want to hurry either. I made quick work of getting the condom on and then put plenty of lube on myself and on him.

  As I pressed a slick finger into him, he growled, “I don’t want fingers. I want you.”

  “And I don’t want to hurt you.” I pushed a second finger in. “You’ll get fucked in a minute, don’t you worry.”

  He clawed at the sheets, rocking back against me as if to make my hand move faster. He wanted it bad, and on any other night, I’d have teased him relentlessly, but seeing Troy this desperate for my cock… I couldn’t resist. I had to fuck him now.