Mighty Men with Weapons

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Mighty Men with Weapons Page 14

by Mighty Men


  “God, you feel good,” Nate said, taking a ragged breath.

  Donovan flipped over on his back. He reached up, and with the pad of his thumb, rubbed the texture of Nate’s bottom lip.

  Nate tried to kiss him then, and Donovan stared at him, a peculiar longing in his eyes, and Nate found recognition. In those unspoken moments, Nate understood what Donovan wanted to say.

  Gasping, Nate roughly cupped his neck and pulled him forward. His spent cock rubbed his groin, and the aggravation of a full condom reminded him of time they could carelessly waste if they didn’t take precautions.

  Slipping his hand between their bodies, Nate took the kiss he intended to savor. The smell of sex surrounded them, and the sweaty body under him reminded him that yes, in fact, he was and always had been a man’s man. Regardless of what he felt for Karen, he craved a man’s arms around him, a hard body to stroke. Karen had been an exception, possibly a well manipulated diversion.

  His tongue glided across Donovan’s, and he deepened the kiss when Donovan responded by moaning into his mouth, sucking on his tongue, and dueling for control. “Get cleaned up and come back to bed,” he whispered into his mouth.

  Nate smiled. “Haven’t had enough?”

  “Never enough,” he promised.

  Nate slid away from him. Darby stirred when he left the king size bed, and Colby continued to snore. What soldiers they all were. Two were sleeping soundly, and the other two were fucking out their feelings, trying to decipher what they meant to one another.

  Standing in the bathroom, Nate studied his reflection in the mirror over the porcelain sink. He gripped the cold stone and looked closer. Sure enough, he thought, he saw the changes.

  Nate looked into the eyes of a man who never knew how to love, but now loved. He recognized the wrinkles across his forehead, though far too premature, and yet the lines of a rougher time creasing over his brow only made him thankful for what he now enjoyed.

  Donovan slipped into the bathroom, and Nate glanced up at the reflection behind him. With his cock in hand, Donovan gripped the base. The hard round tip pressed through the clear condom, and the shape alone lured him.

  Nate reached for him. He took Donovan's cock in hand and pulled back and forth, working him almost with as much aggression as he used when he wanted him to come. Heavy lids shielded his eyes then, and Donovan said, “I want to love you, Nate. God help me, I want to love you.”

  Nate gripped the sink and dropped his head, arching his back and rolling his hips forward and back in preparation. He closed his eyes and said, “Then, love me. Do it now because we have no guarantees of what we face tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “You’re in love with both of us,” Colby said the next morning when Nate joined him at the island fruit and juice bar. Boasting the island’s best breakfast, the resort only offered a continental style buffet, but the fruits and juices were fresh and unmatched when compared to store bought items found back home. The man across the table appealed to him far more than the foods piled high on their small plates.

  Nate tossed his cloth napkin in his lap in the nick of time. Colby looked good enough to fuck over coffee, and after a few too many romps with Donovan throughout the night, he still maintained a rise in his pants.

  Sipping his juice, Colby said, “I hope you tell me something resembling the truth. I want to hear it from you.”

  Nate cleared his throat, looked around the dining room and then pointed toward the men’s room. “I just remembered I didn’t wash my hands. I’ll be right back.”

  He stood up, made a scene by pointing to the sizeable bulge in his pants and said, “I hope I don’t have to take care of this by myself.”

  A few minutes later, Colby slipped into the bathroom, too, locked the door behind him and dropped to his knees.

  “Hell yes,” Nate said, fisting his dick and placing the tip to Colby’s lips.

  Licking up and down the shaft, Colby mumbled, “Love me like the devil you are, Nate.”

  Nate held Colby's head in between his palms. “You’re the sexiest man alive,” he said.

  “But,” Colby said, flinching, “you love Donovan.”

  “I love you,” he stated flatly, watching the light return to Colby’s eyes. “I’m in love with you, Colby Carrington.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yes,” he said, still stiff, turned on even further after revealing the truth and wanting desperately to love the daylights right out of him then.

  “But you and Donovan had sex all night long,” he complained. “I mean, I know we always said we could mess around with other guys, but come on. You—”

  “You’re right, we fucked like crazy. None of it changes how I feel about you,” he assured Colby, yanking him forward and kissing him hard on the mouth, fighting against tight lips in order to force his way into the heart of a heated kiss.

  When Colby accepted the kiss, he whimpered out a sigh, and then he caressed Nate’s cheek with his knuckles. “Don’t die on me today, Nate,” he said. “Please, please, please, don’t die out there today.”

  A loud knock came at the door then. Nate stuffed his cock back in his slacks and cursed. “Damn it to hell. What do you want?”

  Colby reached for his gun, and Nate slid his hand down his leg and grabbed his hunting knife.

  “Someone there?” Colby called out.

  “Get out here now, soldiers.”

  “Fuck my life,” Nate said, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s Shoemaker.”

  Colby grabbed his arm, pressed his fingers to his lips and then pointed to an open window barely big enough for a man the size of Nate to squeeze through.

  After grabbing onto a thin bar across the back of the restroom, they each flipped over the rod and kicked their way through the window, finding the ground beneath them soft enough for a suitable landing. Then, they ran like hell.

  * * * *

  Darby knew when he saw them approaching. He didn’t need the order, but Nate delivered it anyway. “Get to the porch, hands behind your back. Help me out here,” he said, grabbing weapons and sticking them everywhere clothing concealed.

  “He’s here,” Colby said, tossing Donovan his bag of weaponry and finding his own in a nearby storage cabinet.

  Darby went outside, took his place and stared back inside. “I don’t like this,” he reminded them.

  Donovan grabbed Nate by the forearm, and Darby saw his fingers caress the underside of Nate's arm. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”

  Nate nodded and then stuck a clip in the butt of a gun and joined him on the porch. “Everything in place, little soldier boy?” he asked, winking at Colby.

  “I’ve got your back, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  Nate smiled, dropped in between Darby’s legs and patted his cock. Immediately, Darby’s senses came alive, and the knowledge slapped him in the face.

  “What the fuck are you going to do?” he asked, studying Nate and hoping it wasn’t precisely what he assumed.

  “I’m going to blow you straight out of the mind they claim you lost a long time ago. You don’t care, do you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Nate patted his cock, and his fingers pinched what they gripped through material. “I doubt it, sweetheart,” he replied, unzipping him.

  “He will kill you first,” Darby warned.

  “Well, at least I’ll die with his son’s cock down my throat,” Nate said, with a diabolical edge in his voice, the restraint there but not quite detectable over his amusement.

  “Don’t do this, Nate,” Darby said. “My father will kill you.”

  “So you’ve said, and he might, but first he’s going to show his face,” he said, pulling his dick from his pants.

  “It’s broad daylight, for crying out loud!”

  “Are you modest, Darby?” Colby asked, moving inside and hiding in the shadows, right behind the open door.

  Donovan stepped inside, too. Darby wanted to see Donovan,
but with him out of sight, he imagined Nate felt more secure. Nate was the type of ISO who thought ahead, leaving nothing to chance, and he might fear Darby couldn’t maintain his focus with Donovan overseeing.

  Working his hands around Darby's cock, Nate kissed the tip. “Ask your fellow if I give good head.”

  Darby felt the blood rush to his balls. Nate Francisco gave Donovan head?

  “Yeah, he does.” He heard Donovan’s reply from the inside. “He’s about the best at sucking dick.”

  Darby’s hand went to his penis. “What don’t you understand? He will kill you!”

  “And I’m counting on him trying,” Nate said excitedly. In and out of his hand, Darby's erection was stout without much stimulation, and Nate seemed pleased. “I didn’t have to work too hard now, did I?”

  “No,” he said, twisting his mouth.

  “What’s wrong, sugar?” he asked, a louder pitch evident in his voice.

  “He’s here,” Donovan hissed. “I can feel him.”

  “You can probably smell him,” Darby said, leaning his head back and remembering how his father always smelled of rich aftershave and expensive whiskey.

  “Keep your hands behind your back,” Nate advised. “Just let me take you.”

  “Nate, I don’t think I—”

  Nate’s lips parted, and his head fell to Darby’s lap.

  “Oh, dear God!” Darby said, snapping his head forward and eyeing the way Nate sucked his cock straight down his throat with first contact.

  Mumbling against the head when he came up again, Nate’s tongue struck out like a snake’s, and he lapped at the shape of Darby’s engorged head, releasing the most animalistic sounds Darby had ever heard in his life. “Good?”

  “Shit, yeah,” Nate said, blinking back the sweat falling from his damp hair.

  “He gets better,” Darby heard Donovan say.

  Nate fingered his balls and dipped his forefinger under his ass, trying to reach his hole and suck his cock at the same time. Resisting, Darby squeezed his ass cheeks together, and when he did, his knees clamped together, catching Nate’s head between his thighs.

  “Oh no,” Nate said, spreading him again. “I’m just getting started here, sugar.”

  Fisting Darby’s cock, Nate dropped his chin again and opened wide, sucking and slurping. He went at him like a man hungry for a dick between his jaws. Darby feared he’d forget what he was doing and chew, too. Instead, Nate licked, lapping at the veins pressing against Darby's skin.

  Soon, he changed his focus. And when Darby rolled his hips forward, he felt the whipping sensation. “Oh, shit!”

  Colby said, “Warning, he’s at three o’clock, Nate.”

  Darby squeezed his eyes shut. God help him, he needed to get off. Nate bobbed his head up and down and tapped his sack so hard he could’ve sworn a switch was swatting straight across his balls.

  “I’m going to get off,” he cried.

  “The fucking hell you are!” The admiral’s voice echoed off the porch.

  Rage filled the air, and Nate released Darby with a slurping pop. “What’s wrong, Admiral? Can’t stand to see your son get what it is you truly want?”

  Darby gasped. The fury in his father’s expression was unmatched, far worse than anything he ever witnessed in combat or at any other time in his life. Pointing his gun at Nate’s head, the admiral swatted him with it. Blood stained the side of Nate's head, and he crouched against the plank floor. Darby only hoped he wasn’t out like a light but rather pretending.

  Without fully acknowledging Darby, his father walked behind him and released the flimsy binds confining him to the chair. “You’re a piece of work, Darby,” he said. “Get your fucking pants on, son. I can’t believe you went along with this.”

  Darby stood, stuffed his cock back in his pants and said, “Father, you can’t win here.”

  Turning on him then and ignoring Nate, he said, “I can’t win?” He laughed, asking, “Really? Is that what you think?”

  “You can’t,” Darby said, eyeing the crack in the door, looking for Colby.

  “Oh, son,” he said, following his gaze, “don’t look for your gay lovers there.”

  Darby swallowed hard. “I...I...wasn’t.”

  “Don’t stutter, boy,” he said.

  Darby stood taller. He had to distract his father long enough for Nate to regain his composure. Rolling around on the porch floor hardly gave them the advantage Nate originally assured them they’d have.

  “I’ve heard all the rumors. Are they true?”

  The admiral glared at Darby. “What are you asking me?”

  “Is it true? Have you wanted Nate Francisco for your own?”

  “What the fuck are you asking me?”

  “Are you attracted to men? Specifically, do you want Nate Francisco? I did not fucking stutter, Father!”

  The admiral hesitated. The pause alone gave Darby enough to go on. “So you do?” He shook his head. “This is unbelievable.” His arms rose and fell. Then he took a few steps forward and grabbed his father by the shirt. “You ordered hits on some of the best ISOs in the field because you’re trying to what?” His voice quivered and he added, “So you can take out the very temptations you aren’t man enough to admit you have?”

  “Stand down, soldier.”

  “I’m not a soldier anymore, Dad,” he said. “I’m your son, but I’m not an ISO. You made sure you removed me from duties, and for what? To cover up a long-standing fascination you yourself have for men in uniform?”

  “I said, stand down!”

  Darby squinted when he saw Nate stir. Then he released his grip. “You’re not worth the effort.”

  * * * *

  Nate groaned when he came to. He wasn’t sure he was even out since he heard and understood the conversation exchanged between father and son. He wanted to kill the admiral, take out the very man who ordered the ridiculous hits.

  He thought of Colby. Where was he? What about Donovan? Where on God’s earth were they when he needed them most?

  Realizing he miscalculated, he clenched his fists when he rose to his feet. The admiral turned, held his pistol high in the air and aimed down, like he had to hold the gun a certain way in order to shoot his target.

  “Go ahead,” Nate said, standing taller. “Take your shot, Admiral. The so-called disease you claim warranted your son’s admission to a mental hospital runs rampant in your veins. You can kill me. There will be others like me, men who barely notice their commanding officer is gay, men who don’t care either way if they do.”

  “Shut up, Nate,” Admiral Shoemaker barked.

  Nate stared at the planks where he stood and saw movement as well as multiple shadows blocking the limited sunlight. Thank God, he thought, remembering Colby knew where every crevice was found in the deteriorating structure of the porch.

  The admiral bellowed, “If you think I’m here on this island alone, soldier, you’re wrong. I don’t travel solo anymore, not in matters so important to the further development of the ISO program.”

  “Don’t you mean in matters behind closed doors?” Darby asked, moving to stand right next to the admiral’s raised gun.

  “Back away, son.”

  “No, sir. I will not.”

  “I’m ordering you to move out of my way!”

  Darby reached for the gun then. Nate stepped to the side when the first shot fired out. Another fired and then another, followed by agonizing yelps for help.

  “Hold your fire!” Nate pleaded, watching a disoriented Darby collapse against his father, the man responsible for delivering such a fatal shot.

  Two ISOs, men Nate spotted around the island long before the day began, sprinted up the beach. Glancing down, he yelled to his own two-man team. “Twins approaching. Move down the beach!”

  He heard rapid movement under the house, the shuffling of feet. Colby and Donovan would handle the intrusion. Admiral Shoemaker was his.

  The admiral must have realized his son lay dying. �
�Darby!” He yanked him onto his lap and fell against the front porch swing with his dying son’s body.

  While Darby choked out his last few breaths, Nate’s gaze returned to Donovan and Colby. They ran up on the two-man team and quickly secured them. Minutes later, Nate waited for the admiral’s first move, unable to draw his weapon then, though fully expecting one gun to be swiftly drawn, the firearm of a man who would, indeed, avenge Darby’s approaching death.

  Colby remained in the sand. His mouth fell open in a wide O while Donovan rushed toward the steps.

  “Darby!” he exclaimed, the toll of death’s call obvious and far more costly than anyone there had the potential to imagine.

  Donovan sat next to the admiral, shooting Nate a look he recognized all too well. Without explaining, Nate tossed his weapon to the ground, and Admiral Shoemaker rambled on, “I’m so sorry, son. Oh, God, I’m so, so sorry.”

  Bewildered, Donovan stood. “You did this?”

  “I...I...” the admiral clung to his son. “I just wanted him to stand proud.”

  Donovan blinked back tears. He must have processed then, acknowledged death rolling faster and faster Darby’s way with full intent to take him.

  “Stand up, Admiral,” Donovan grated out.

  “He’s my son. Let my son die in his father’s arms.”

  “Stand up, Admiral, and for once in your sorry life, you stand proud.” Donovan’s voice never faltered. This time, Donovan drew his blade from his belt. Nate saw the shiny point glisten in the sun.

  One of the ISOs on the ground said, “This won’t solve anything. Let the man comfort his dying son.”

  Colby continued to aim his gun toward the two misinformed ISOs. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, his knowing eyes following Nate’s as they watched, waited.

  “Don...o...van,” Darby choked out. Blood poured from his nostrils and his mouth. He uttered his last word. His lover’s name forever stained his lips as he left this world and rapidly traveled into the next.

  “Darby!” Donovan cried out, placing the knife at the admiral’s throat.

 

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