by Sara York
His heart slammed hard and his vision blurred. "What? But I-I."
"I won't do that, trust me. I'm just going make it where you can't stop me and then lick your whole body, touching every inch of you. You think you'd like that?"
Tucker closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. Billy was so intense, his interest unlike any other he'd ever known. His dick was already hard again and he hadn't even touched himself. Never before had he gotten it up twice in one night unless he was alone, jerking himself.
Billy's lips were on his neck, then trailing lower, between his pecs and down to his abs. Then Billy was on his knees. Tucker opened his eyes just enough to see Billy's big brown eyes staring up at him. He glanced at his dick, noticing a drop of pre-come beading from the slit. What would Billy do? Few of the women he'd been with liked to suck him and fewer liked the taste. Not many would lick the pre-come but Billy, with his gaze still on Tucker, slid his tongue between his lips and caught the drop with the tip of his tongue.
Tucker's balls pulled up tight. He tried desperately to keep his eyes on Billy and watch the show but he was lost to the sensation, his body no longer his own to control. Billy opened his mouth and warmth encased him. Again, he tried to watch and he succeeded for a few seconds but the excitement was too much. He clutched at Billy's hair, hoping he didn't hurt the man but was unable to control himself. Nothing could rein him in.
"Gonna come," Tucker ground out between his teeth.
Billy hummed around his dick and clutched his butt cheeks, sinking down all the way to his root. The orgasm owned him, stealing his breath and his mind. His vision was gone too and all he had was Billy's mouth wrapped around his cock, drinking down his seed.
After what seemed like forever, but much too short for eternity, Billy eased his dick from his mouth and sat back on his heels. Tucker looked down and saw Billy's deflated dick, wondering if Billy didn't get any pleasure from the act at all. Then he felt the cooling come on his legs. Billy had come when he had.
Tucker dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to Billy's pushing him onto the floor, cradling his head against the tile. When he pulled away, he couldn't stay quiet. The worlds flowed without him even thinking.
"God, Billy, that was amazing. I can't believe how awesome that was. Fuck, you had me so hot. I couldn’t even see or think, or breathe. I stopped breathing and I thought I'd gone to heaven. Fuck, that was good."
Billy laughed and pushed him to the side. "Let's go to bed. We both need to get some sleep."
"We are sleeping together, right?"
"Yeah, babe. I'm sleeping with you."
Billy helped him up, and turned off the lights as they made their way into the bedroom. Since Tucker's left shoulder was injured, Billy slept on the right side with his head on Billy's shoulder, his hand on Billy's flat belly, rubbing the fine hairs leading down to the treasure he'd found. Never before had he felt so content. Being with Billy made perfect sense.
Chapter Nine
The flight to London went off without any hitch. Getting a gun into England was near impossible and that's why they flew private. The car picked them up at the tarmac of a small airport outside of London. Marshal and James had spent most of the flight preparing for the mission. Every alternative and contingency specked out until Grant wanted to shoot them just to get them to shut up. It was all part of the mission, but they were at the stage where they were driving each other crazy with the plans. He felt good about the mission. They were right where they needed to be.
Once they'd checked in at the hotel, Grant went out to grab some food for the team. Marshal and James were resting, most likely they were mentally running through the operation one last time. At some point they'd shut down and switch to autopilot, feeling the mission, letting the plan become instinct instead of following the steps like a recipe.
Grant picked up fish and chips at a local pub, avoiding alcohol but grabbing some waters. With the bag of food in hand, Grant left the pub and headed back to the hotel. About a block later he realized he was being watched. He turned left then another left before ducking into an ally. Ten seconds later the tail ducked into the ally. Grant had already set down the bag of food and braced for impact, but the voice stilled him.
"Interesting. A bomb goes off in central London and now you're here. I should have expected the cleanup crew to turn up."
"Craig." The vibration started in Grant's legs, moving through his muscles at lightning speed. He reached out, grabbing onto Craig's shirt, pulling him close. The hair was longer, the beard grown out, but the eyes were the same pools of brown that he'd fallen in love with. "Fuck, Craig."
"You have two or three guys with you?"
Emotions threatened to shut him down and make him forget the most important thing—the mission. Craig was asking about their mission, not about him. Craig, the man who had walked away from everything, not only the job, but their relationship, hadn't said one word about how he looked or asked if he was okay, all he wanted to know were the specs of the mission.
"I-I...Where have you been, Craig?"
"I could always count on you not to answer my questions."
Grant pushed away from him and picked up the bag of food. If Craig saw there were three different packages of fish, he'd know there were two other guys here. The mission couldn't suffer because of his stupidity. "You have no right to ask that question."
"Come on, Grant. It's me." Craig approached, his hands out, smoothing his fingers down Grant's chest.
The touch brought back everything. Love and desire hit him hard, almost making him drop to his knees. His shriveled soul had something to nourish it but Craig wasn't giving. The man had changed. Their last moment together played through his mind.
Craig stalked into their room and grabbed his suitcase.
"Hey, what's up?" Grant asked, hopping from the bed to snag a kiss from his lover.
"I'm done."
"What?" Grant stepped forward, blocking Craig's path. Raw anger had Craig's eyes smoldering. "Put the suitcase down, we can all talk about this."
"No, I can't work here any longer."
"Hey, babe, the last mission was tough. Let's talk about it."
Craig pushed at Grant, knocking him back a few feet. "Don't you get it? I'm done talking."
"What happened?"
"You know, I don't give a fuck anymore if some rich dude goes off and kills a bunch of people. I'm sick of living here like a monk."
"A monk? What about us?"
Craig threw back his head and laughed, filling the room with the harsh sound. The laughter died and Craig moved suddenly, pushing Grant up against the wall. "You fuck well enough, but really, I want more."
Grant's whole body ached, his head throbbed. "But-but I love you."
"And I love you as much as I can, but we're trained killers, how much love can we really have?"
Craig moved to leave and Grant grabbed at his suitcase. Shock coursed through him, the bag was already packed. He straightened, his mouth hung agape. Confusion filled him and he felt like he'd missed something important.
"Wait, don't go."
" I've been planning on leaving for a year now. Just move on."
He shook off his emotions and stepped back, putting distance between them. "Don't. I may still have feelings for you, but don't ask any questions when you have no right to answers."
"You still love me, don't you?"
"Stop." Grant held up his hand, shaking his head. Craig would play him and he'd fall for it. Love would prevent him from looking at the situation without emotions He'd take what Craig had to offer and be left with nothing, maybe even putting his friends in danger. Then there was Roger.
"Your eyes softened just now. You want me."
Grant grimaced, realizing they'd softened because of Roger. "You misjudged me. I'm not going to fall for your line of bullshit."
"I'll make it worth your while. We could be together again."
Craig stepped forward, his head tilted at just the right angle, his
eyes half-hooded and his lips slightly open leaving Grant filled with desire. Craig knew how to play him. The look always got Craig what he wanted, but not this time. The price was too high. Grant would have to leave White Bluff and he wouldn’t do that, even if it meant he could be with Craig. The thought troubled him. If he wouldn’t leave White Bluff for Craig, did that mean he didn't really love him?
Grant squared his shoulders. "If you ever cared for me at all, just leave me alone."
Craig laughed. "It's going to bug you for a long time, isn't it?"
"What?"
"You don't know if I ever cared for you." Craig walked away without looking back.
When he disappeared around the corner, Grant pulled out his phone and punched in a text. Craig found me. I'm blown. I'm getting a new phone now.
*~*~*
Marshal's stomach rumbled again. "I'm starving. Do you think he's almost back?"
"No clue. I hope he finds something good." James stretched out on the bed next to him. Marshal turned to face James, taking in the strong jaw and sculpted nose. "You're really a good-looking guy."
"What the hell are you getting at?"
"Nothing, I was just saying you really are good-looking."
"Please tell me there is a reason you're starting to look at guys. You know, you and Billy are the only straight ones we have."
Marshal chuckled and turned to his back, "I don't think Billy is that straight anymore."
"Really? What makes you say that?"
Marshal rolled back to his side and placed his hand on James's chest. James turned his face toward Marshal, his amber eyes shuttered. "The way he and Tucker have been looking at each other. Haven't you caught any of their little glances?"
James shook his head. "No, I haven’t really been paying attention—and why are your hands all over me?"
Marshal pulled away and rolled to his back again, placing both hands under his head so he didn't touch James again. "I don't know. I'm tired and hungry. I need someone to cuddle with me. It's been a while and I've been on a fuckload of missions lately, and seeing Tucker shot last time got to me. I don't want either one of us to be shot, and I don't know. I guess if I hold you close I'll feel better about it all."
James sat up and Marshal thought he'd made a fool of himself. He was straight but sometimes he just needed to be with someone. Then there were the thoughts he had about Zander. The man was his best friend, but there was something more. Sometimes guys excited him, mostly Zander. James scooted close and lay down with his head on Marshal's shoulder. Slowly, he dropped his arm, wrapping it around James's shoulder.
"Thanks."
"Just don't tell anyone."
"But you're gay, why would they care if you were sleeping with me?"
"Dude, I'm not the type of guy to go turning straights gay."
Marshal closed his eyes and sighed. He could almost pretend that James wasn't James—almost but not quite. Living with guys all the time wasn't too bad, but he wanted something more out of life. Eventually he'd tire of working at Wild Bluff and want to move on. For now, he was okay with staying, but he knew his days at Wild Bluff were numbered.
His phone buzzed and he picked it up seeing the text indicator light up. "Looks like Grant texted us."
"What does it say?" James moved his head so he was looking at Marshal.
He smiled then opened the app and began reading. "Craig found me. I'm blown. I'm getting a new phone now."
"Shit. What do we do?"
Marshal unwound from James and rolled to the edge of the bed before standing. "We're not blown, just Grant."
"But if we act, Craig will know it was us."
Marshal paced the room, trying to find a hole in their airtight plan. "We proceed."
James shook his head, his lips thinned out. "Grant was made."
"Only Grant."
"What if Craig knows where we are?"
"He doesn't."
James moved in front of him, placing his hand on Marshal's chest. "How can you be sure?"
The pressure of James's touch grounded him. He placed his hand on James's hip, earning him a raised eyebrow. "Craig was very jealous of me."
"I didn't know this. Why didn't I know?"
"He hid it well. Grant and I have always been close. Before Craig came on the ranch there were a few other guys, but then there was Craig then Grant. Grant and I hit it off. We were very close friends, even sleeping in the same bed on occasion." Marshal rolled his eyes. "See, that's how Craig would look when we said we shared a bed. We didn't have sex or anything, just talked a lot. We clicked. He was like my brother. Then Craig went on this mission with Grant. They were alone in the outback of Australia for eight weeks. Grant said they fell in love. I tried to tell Grant I didn't think Craig was really that into him, but he told me to shut it. Our friendship was different."
James stepped away, turning to face the room. "Dang, I didn't know any of this."
"You wouldn't have. It was before Duff brought you and Mike in. Anyway, we stayed friends, but we weren't close. Then Grant and I went on a mission together and we reconnected. I said nothing about Craig. I wasn't going to bring that up again. The man was insanely jealous. He got pissed and fought with Duff. Apparently he'd already decided to leave."
"So when that happened, did Grant talk to you?"
"No, he's been friendly, professional but not the old Grant that I was best friends with."
"Fuck. And now Craig has found Grant again."
"Yeah, but if he knew where I was, I'd be dead. He sent me a letter, telling me as much. Said I was the cause of their breakup."
"Did you tell Grant?" James stepped close and stared up at him.
"No, I didn't. I didn't talk to Duff either."
"But—really? Why not?"
"Craig was trouble and I was glad to be rid of him."
"You have to tell Duff when we return and you need to show him the letter. You didn't toss it?"
"No, it's in my room at the ranch."
"What do we do now?"
"We make sure we have our shit together and wait for Grant to call."
James nodded then moved to the bathroom, packing up their toiletries and wiping down the surfaces they might have touched. Marshal cleaned the main room, returning everything they'd pulled out back into their bags. He was about to start packing away the gun he'd been cleaning when his phone rang. He answered and didn't say a word.
"Marshal, I'm not coming back to the hotel." Grant was quiet, his voice strained.
"Shit."
"I've checked a few times and he was following me. I think I've lost him, but I'm not positive. It's too much to risk."
"Do you think he knows about—"
"No. He knows how we operate. Do not follow the usual contingency for being discovered. He'll expect it and find you."
"Business as usual then?"
"You're lead. I trust you. I'm burning this phone. I'll see you stateside."
The phone connection died, cutting off all communication with Grant until they made it back to the States. He wouldn’t fail James, and he sure as hell wouldn't fail Grant or Duff. They expected him to complete this mission even if his personal life was shot to hell. He'd always suspected Craig would come back and make trouble, but he hadn't guessed it would happen on a mission.
Chapter Ten
Roger had fallen asleep on the couch after watching a movie. With Grant gone, he'd been out of sorts and unable to let go enough to sleep. Duff hadn't said anything—yet. Last night during dinner, Mike had said something about Grant and then cut his eyes to Roger. Maybe it was obvious that he was missing the guy. He hoped that he could control himself better but he clearly had a few issues to take care of.
A noise sounded behind him and he jumped, bolting off the couch. First thing he noticed was the TV had been turned off. He walked over to the television, finding it cold. His body heated in embarrassment that someone had found him sleeping and he hadn't woken. If he'd slept through that, why was he waking
up now? Another noise brought his attention to the back of the house and the garage entrance.
They all had guns and were heavily armed, but none of the guns were in the living areas. If an intruder made it this far, they had credentials and the codes to get in. His fears were slightly relieved, but he still didn't like the idea of someone coming in at this time—he glanced at the clock on the front of the DVD player seeing that it was close to three in the morning—of the day. Everyone was home except Grant, Marshal, and James and they weren't expected back for days.
The door from the garage flew open and the light flicked on, bathing the kitchen white. Roger blinked twice, caught off guard by the sudden bright lights.
"Shit, Roger, you scared the crap out of me." Grant's gruff voice was like balm to his soul. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and took a step forward before stopping, unsure if Grant would appreciate the close contact.
"Sorry, you scared me too."
"What are you doing up?" Grant closed the door behind him.
"Couldn't sleep, haven't been the last few days." He bit his tongue and tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Why had he revealed that to Grant? The man didn't need to know that his absence caused such a huge disruption. That they hadn't known each other for long only added to his embarrassment.
"Really?" Grant shot him a look then shrugged his shoulder. "Well, I'm exhausted. I'm going to head to bed."
"I think I'm headed that way too." Roger followed Grant down the hall then reached out, grabbing his shoulder. "Wait."
Grant spun around, his expression shuttered quickly but Roger caught something different in the depths before the man was able to hide the expression. "I'm exhausted, can it wait?"
"Why are you home so early?"
Grant blew out a huge breath and leaned his head against the wall, staring at the carpet below. "I was made. Someone spotted me and I was forced to abandon the guys."
"You left them behind?" Roger was horrified by the thought.
"Better to be alone than have to worry about being discovered."