by L. A. Witt
“T-tell me.”
“I want to take you into my bedroom.” He breathed between kisses. “I’m going to tear you out of those clothes, put you on your knees, and”—he pressed my hand against his dick—“fuck your mouth until I come. That sound good . . . sir?”
I whimpered against his lips and squeezed his cock, which made him give a throaty little groan. Somehow, I managed to murmur, “Please.”
His lips curved against mine, and his tongue darted into my mouth before he claimed a deeper, more determined kiss. Fuck, but I loved what he did with his mouth. Every single time, his kiss turned my knees to water and my nerve endings to pure electricity. All I could think of was how much I wanted him.
He kept me there against the wall, pinning me with his strong, hot body. Still kissing me, he reached between us with both hands and jerked my belt open. The way he undid my fly, I was sure he’d broken the zipper or torn my jeans, but then he was on his knees with my cock deep in his throat, and I didn’t care what he’d done to my pants.
He kept both hands on my hips, holding me to the wall as if he thought I might go anywhere. Yeah, right. Not with the way his mouth worked its magic on my dick. Jesus, he even managed to use his teeth, letting them slide carefully over the head before he covered the same area with his tongue.
This was . . . oh fuck. Insane.
I’d never been with a man who could make giving a blowjob seem like an act of domination. As if he were saying, I’m going to suck your dick, and you’re going to stand there and take it, and dear God, yes, I was absolutely going to stand there and take everything he gave me.
I’d been with guys who’d taken control in ways I didn’t like. Especially those who were taller, broader, and stronger than me. Will had the physique if he wanted to use it, but I’d never once felt like he would. Or, rather, he absolutely did throw me around, pin me down, and force his cock into my mouth or my ass—but it was hot.
That, and I was always completely certain he’d stop the second I protested. Even in the very beginning when he’d been a total stranger, he’d never given me any reason to second-guess him. Maybe it was because he was a cop. My first impression of him had been the calm, collected, take-charge guy who’d defused a volatile situation. He’d always radiated safe.
So when he let loose in the bedroom, so did I. And right now, with my back against the wall and Will’s mouth turning me inside out, I didn’t hold back. I swore and moaned and didn’t even try to keep myself from coming. I doubted I could have if I’d wanted to—Will was obviously bound and determined to get me off, right here, right now, and there was nothing to do except enjoy the ride.
Eyes closed and knees shaking, I stuttered what I hoped was encouragement. I tried to grab hold of his hair, but it was too short, so I grabbed his hand on my hip. He curled his fingers around mine, and that tight grip anchored me, and I held on for all I was worth as he licked, sucked, teased my cock, and then I yelled something I didn’t understand, and the wall kept me upright (barely) and Will kept me coming (forever) and—
“S-stop.” I shivered hard. “Oh God . . .”
Will stopped, and by the time my spinning head had slowed and my vision had cleared, he was standing again. Though I wasn’t anywhere near catching my breath, I grabbed him and kissed him, and the salt of my cum in his mouth made me dizzier.
Finally, I had to come up for air or I was going to black out right there between him and the wall. I touched my forehead to his and took a few gulps of breath. “Thought . . . thought you said I was going to suck you off.”
“I did.” He grinned. “And now you are . . . sir.”
With that, he shoved me to my knees.
And oh fuck yeah, I absolutely did suck him off.
After nineteen years in the Navy, I’d used the word sir so much it barely registered as more than a punctuation mark. It was automatic.
What wasn’t so automatic—or hadn’t been until recently—was saying it and suddenly having my dick get hard.
Ever since that meeting with Commander Wilson, I’d been wary of using the title. Not that I could avoid it, considering I dealt with officers on a daily basis. Thank God for my camouflage utilities, not to mention the bulky police belt. They obscured everything until I had a chance to pull myself together, though the security officer probably wondered why I’d suddenly gotten red-faced and flustered while we’d been standing in the hallway discussing the watch rotation.
This was seriously going to make my job awkward if I didn’t get a handle on it.
I’d known a few guys who were into kinky stuff, and the ones who liked to be in charge got off on being called Sir. That had never really appealed to me since I wasn’t an officer, so I didn’t want to be called that, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to get on my knees and try any of that Thank you, sir, may I have another stuff. Not when I had to use the title at work, sometimes toward officers who weren’t worth the cloth their insignia was sewn on.
It had never occurred to me how hot it would be to call a man sir while he was on his knees. I could handle that. Obviously Brent wasn’t the only one getting a rebellious thrill out of this thing we were doing. We were both as straitlaced as they came, especially where our careers were concerned. Breaking away from that to disappear behind closed doors for some forbidden sex, and turning our rank difference on its head while we were are it? Oh fuck yeah.
I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.
Especially if you leave marks like that again.
Oh my God, is it time to go home yet?
I was horny, but also restless and bored, and it was one of those typically quiet days on NAS Adams, so I left my office and wandered over to Noah’s. At least we could shoot the breeze and kill some time, which meant I might stay sane between now and when I had Brent naked again.
Fortunately, Noah was there, and his door was open. He had a stack of watch bills on his desk, which he probably needed to sign off by the end of the day so they could be posted to let everyone know when and where they’d be standing watches. As soon as he saw me, though, he put down his pen and sat back, stretching his arms above his head. “Oh thank God. A distraction.”
“What’s wrong?” I chuckled as I took my usual seat in front of his desk. “Watch bill assignments don’t keep you entertained?”
“Ugh.” He rubbed his hands over his face, muffling what I guessed were some curses. Dropping his hands into his lap, he exhaled. “So what’s new with you? You must not be very busy if you have time to come distract me from my shit.”
“Same old, same old. Got a meeting with Port Ops later today so they can fill me in on what’s going on with the boats.” I scowled. “I can’t decide if harbor patrol is fucking up the boats, or if Port Ops isn’t repairing them right, but if someone doesn’t get my boats up and running this week, heads are going to roll.”
“That shit again? Man. Better you than me. I’ve had it up to here with Port Ops.”
“You and me both.” Port Operations were notorious for butting heads with security at pretty much every base I’d ever been stationed. All they had to do was keep the patrol boats functioning. Why that always seemed to be too much to ask would forever be a mystery to me.
It was hard to get stressed about it right now, though. Annoyed? Sure. But every time my blood pressure started rising over something work related, all I had to do was shift my thoughts back to Brent, and . . . well, my blood pressure still rose, but it was a hell of a lot more pleasant.
“Someone’s got a dick on the brain.”
I nearly choked. “What?”
Noah laughed. “Come on. Don’t act like I don’t know you.” He pointed a finger at me and inclined his head. “You’ve already tried to deny it once, but seriously, the only time you’re this spacey is when you’re oxygen deprived from having a dick down your throat for too long.”
“Anyone ever tell you how classy you are?”
He shrugged. “Anthony said something about it a while back, but I think h
e might’ve been sarcastic. It’s hard to tell with him.”
“No, it’s not. And he absolutely was.”
Noah chuckled. “So who’s the lucky guy who finally broke you out of the post-Vince dry spell?”
Uh, well, that’s a bit complicated.
I cleared my throat. “How do you know it’s just one?”
His eyes were instantly huge.
Grinning, I ran with it. “Maybe I’ve finally been getting out there and getting laid. Been a while, you know? Time to play the field.”
“You?” he sputtered. “Playing the field?”
“Hey, we can’t all be respectable soon-to-be-married men, so—”
“Whoa, who said anything about ‘soon to be married’?” Noah laughed. “I’m shacking up with the guy, not chaining myself to him.”
“Yet.”
He waved a hand. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
“So if Anthony took you to some candlelit dinner, and got on one knee with a ring in his hand, you’d—”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“And you’re blushing.”
“Fine. If he asks, then yes.” A little smile tugged at his lips, and I suspected he was secretly hoping Anthony would ask. Or maybe he was trying to work up the nerve himself. “So with that out of the way.” He inclined his head. “Let’s get back to your dude. Because I don’t believe for a second that you’re out there being a manwhore.”
“Why not? I spent six years unknowingly taking part in an open relationship and being sexually frustrated while my boyfriend was putting his dick in anything that moved.” That all came out with more bitterness than I’d intended. Clearing my throat, I shifted a little, and tried to inject some actual humor as I added, “Maybe I’ve got some bedroom karma to burn off.”
The skepticism in his expression didn’t budge. “The fact that you’re being so cagey about it is . . .” Skepticism turned to concern. “You’re not doing anything stupid, are you? Because that’s not like you.”
I put up my hands. “I’m not. Come on. You know me.”
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m weirded out that you’re keeping this so close to the vest. I mean, if it’s none of my business, it’s none of my business, but you’re acting really weird about it.”
“It’s nothing to worry about.” I made a big gesture out of looking at my watch. “And don’t you have post checks to do?”
He scowled. He could always tell when I was trying to avoid a topic. And it wasn’t like he could argue—I’d done the last set of post checks over an hour ago, and one of us tried to swing by and check on our various sentries a few times a day. Partly to make sure they didn’t need help, and partly to make sure they weren’t fucking off.
“All right, all right.” He stood. “Just . . . whatever you’re doing . . . be careful, all right?”
I nodded as I stood too. “Always am.”
But maybe not careful enough under the circumstances.
Sneaking in and out of each other’s apartments had become strangely routine. Whenever we could, we were in each other’s beds, and I was getting used to making a quick, stealthy escape in the dead of night. Varying my route. Avoiding any people who were lingering outside at that hour for some reason.
The novelty didn’t last long, but neither of us made any noise about changing anything. In fact, our late-night escapes were getting later and later because even after we were physically exhausted, there was never a real sense of urgency to get away from each other.
As much as it was taking its toll at work, I was looking forward to this part as much as I was the sex, and now, here we were again—lying in Will’s bed, naked and comfortable, talking about whatever came to mind.
Somehow tonight, we’d landed on the subject of our past love lives. Or, in my case, lack thereof.
“In high school,” I said, “I had a boyfriend my sophomore year and a girlfriend my senior year, but even then, my focus was on getting into Annapolis. So they kind of fizzled out. Since then, I’ve never really had any relationships.”
“You’ve been out of Annapolis for, what, five years now?”
I nodded. “But it was always something. I had a friend with benefits for a little while, and right about the time I thought things might get serious with her, I deployed, and shortly after that, transferred out here. Like I said . . . always something.” Like meeting someone in the wrong paygrade.
“You really have lived and breathed the Navy for a long time, haven’t you?”
“Yep. I’ll probably live and breathe it till I’m dead.”
Will’s eyebrows rose. “Committed.”
I nodded.
He smiled a little and brushed the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I get it. I’m in for the long haul too.”
“Well yeah. You’re almost to twenty, aren’t you?”
“I am, but I’m sticking it out to thirty. I want to retire as a master chief on seventy-five percent pay.”
I grinned. “That does sound like a pretty sweet deal.”
“I think so.” He returned the grin. “Almost two-thirds of the way there, with plenty of time left to get promoted.”
“Nice. There anything you don’t like about your job, though?”
“Oh, it has its bullshit like any other. Red tape. Paperwork. Assholes in charge. But . . .” His expression darkened. “If there’s one thing I could really do without? I fucking hate domestic calls.”
I chewed my lip. “Like . . . the one where you met me?”
He met my gaze and chuckled softly. “That one ended a lot better than others do. And not only because I met you.” The humor faded. “It’s just . . . It’s hard, you know? Seeing people rip each other apart like that? Especially since I’ve, uh, been there.”
My spine straightened. “What?”
Will swallowed. “My ex—not the recent one, but the one before him—was abusive. Mostly verbally, but sometimes physically too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” His eyes lost focus, and he exhaled. “The violence wasn’t as bad as I’ve seen as a cop, let’s put it that way. It was still bad, but my job has sure as shit put it into perspective.”
“Still.” I couldn’t help squeezing his hand. “That’s awful.”
“It was, yeah.” He brought our hands up and kissed my fingers before tucking them beneath the covers between us again. With a bitter laugh, he said, “The irony of it is that if the cops had ever been called, DADT would’ve killed both of our careers faster than any domestic violence charges would’ve damaged his.”
Horror tightened my throat. “Really?”
Will nodded. “We can suspect all we want that there’s domestic violence, but until we have indisputable proof—and in most cases, one partner willing to press charges against the other—there’s nothing we can do but wait for it to escalate. And, even then, shit could get swept under the rug. Hell, I worked for a master chief who was arrested twice for beating his wife, but knew enough people in high places to make it disappear.”
“But under DADT, if they found out you were gay . . .”
“You were done. Period. I mean, they needed something more than a rumor, but it didn’t take nearly as much to convince the military you were gay as it did to convince them you were in danger at home.”
“Did you ever . . .” I hesitated.
“Hmm?”
I searched his eyes, then took a breath. “You’re a cop. Did you ever bust anyone? For being gay?”
Will shook his head. “I caught people from time to time. Once, on the ship, I was on watch and caught two guys blowing each other out by the fantail. They saw me, I saw them, but I walked away and never said a word about it. Far as I know, they never got caught.” He paused. “The only time I ever intervened was when my buddy went staggering out of a bar in Japan with the ship’s XO.”
“So, an enlisted guy about to bang an officer?” I asked dryly.
He played with my hair. “That, and about to go
stumbling and groping into a taxi in front of God knew how many guys from our boat. So yeah, I stopped him.”
“Smart,” I said.
“I’d have done that even if DADT hadn’t been in effect anymore. For, uh, obvious reasons.”
I laughed dryly. “Like I said—smart. So have you been openly gay since it was repealed?”
“Sort of. I never threw the doors off the closet or anything. I mean, I had a boyfriend at the time, and once it was repealed, we just . . . stopped hiding it.”
“That must’ve been a huge relief.”
“God, yeah.” Will sighed like he was reliving that relief all over again. “The secrecy was fucking draining.”
“Yeah. I can, uh, see how that would happen.”
Our eyes met.
My stomach clenched. I was sure we were going to go there. Going to address the thing we’d carefully avoided discussing since we’d decided we were doing this.
Instead, he shook himself. “Ironically, it probably wouldn’t have been an entirely bad thing for me if DADT had hung around a bit longer.”
“How do you figure?”
“Vince would’ve left. He didn’t like all the sneaking around, and he was at the end of his thread when the repeal happened. It would’ve hurt, but not as bad as when he really did leave. At least then I never would’ve known he cheated.”
I winced. “Fuck. Yeah, I can understand that.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. And I mean, I probably should’ve known we were in trouble. When I was up for reenlistment the last time around, we argued for weeks over it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He wanted me to get out, and he was pressuring me hard to ditch my career.”
“He wanted you to end your career over him?”
Will’s lips tightened, and his voice was tinged with bitterness. “Apparently if I really loved him, I would do it. Instead of putting him through all that hell and . . .” He rolled his eyes. “Never mind how much my career means to me. If I loved him, the choice would be a no-brainer. Period.”
“Wow,” I said. “How did he feel when you re-upped?”