by Sara York
Marshal sucked in a breath, wondering how dangerous it would be for him to be alone with Zander. "Grant is still gone. I don't know if I could enjoy myself."
Zander placed his hand on Marshal's shoulder, stopping their steps. Marshal stared at the dirt, trying to control his emotions, but Zander wouldn’t let him get away with the downcast eyes. His fingers under Marshal's chin were enough encouragement for him to lift his head. Sparks shot from where Zander touched all the way to Marshal's toes.
"You need to take a break. You're stressed and you need some fun time."
Marshal swallowed over the lump forming in his throat. The care and concern in Zander's gaze did him in. Tears stung the back of his eyes, and he fought to get them under control, but the stress of the last few weeks had weighed him down. He tried to turn away from Zander, but the man caught him and pulled him into a crushing hug.
Desire and anger twisted trough him, leaving him aching to hold Zander and wanting to push him away. Zander's hands were close to his shoulders then one of Zander's hands traveled down Marshal's back, leaving little electric tingles behind. Marshal memorized the way Zander's hands moved, slow and gentle as the man rubbed Marshal's muscles.
"You need to relax. Just let it all out," Zander whispered.
Marshal's dick did the opposite of relax, and he tried to move away, but Zander didn't let go. His nose was pressed against Zander's neck, and he drew in a deep breath, taking in the masculine scent of his best friend. The soap Zander used smelled like fresh mountains on a spring day. He loved catching a whiff of the man after a shower, but now, with his body pressed up against Zander's, all he wanted to do was strip him naked and make love to him. Marshal lifted his head just a bit, placing his nose behind Zander's ear. Little curls tickled Marshal's nose, and he jerked back, lining his cheek up with Zander's. The scruff felt good against his skin and he almost groaned.
Marshal hadn't done it on purpose, but now they were cheek to cheek. Zander's hands rested on the small of his back and his fingers were curling into Zander's hips, holding him steady as he slid his lips over just a bit, lining up with Zander's mouth. The first brush of lips could have been played off as a mistake, but the second slide of his lips against Zander's couldn't be brushed off as a slip-up. The moan from deep in his throat gave further evidence that he wanted this.
Had he been thinking straight, he would have pulled back, telling Zander he was sorry and it meant nothing. He didn't do that. His tongue pressed against Zander's lips, demanding entrance just as he tightened his hold on the man.
All of his fantasies and dreams didn't come close to how wonderful it felt to be connected to Zander, his tongue sliding against Zander's. Tasting a man for the first time made his throat squeeze, and he struggled to breathe before forgetting to take in air all together.
Hot and heavy came quick on the heels of the sweet brush of lips. Marshal pressed his hips against Zander's, grinding hard. Their dicks bumped, and for a moment, he felt like he was going to shatter into a million pieces.
But it ended. Zander pulled back, gasping as he stepped away. His hand was on his lips, his blue eyes wide pools of confusion. Marshal wanted more, wanted it all, though he wasn't sure how they'd get there, or who'd do what, but he wanted to feel Zander's flesh up against his. One second passed with nothing said, then another. Marshal took a step toward Zander but his best friend bolted, unhitching Dusty and taking off at a gallop. He raced away from Marshal, a trail of dust in his wake.
Being dumped by a girl hurt, and he'd been mildly serious about a few when they walked away, but watching Zander run from him was like having his heart ripped out and tossed to the vultures. Numb from rejection, Marshal mounted Tammy, finishing his ride to the back pasture though he saw nothing.
The taste and feel of Zander still clung to him when he arrived at the barn, finding Dusty but no Zander. After taking care of his horse, brushing her and securing her in the stall, he fed her some grain, all the while building his courage. When he was done, he went in search of Zander, hell bent on apologizing to the guy, or offering something like an apology that would explain what he'd done. He'd do anything to make it up to Zander and show him that their friendship was still intact. But Zander had taken off, leaving the ranch without a word where he was headed.
Chapter Two
Zander drove south on Highway 75 heading to New Mexico. The kiss had sizzled his neurons. He only had one option—to flee. If Marshal ever figured out what he wanted to do, he'd kill him.
"Fuck!" he screamed, banging on the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Goddammit. Marshal—fuck." That hug had been his fault. He'd screwed up, touching Marshal without shuttering his feelings, and stowing his desires in the little box he kept them tucked away in, only letting the passion for Marshal out at night when he was all alone and he could pretend Marshal was more than just a friend. His come sock had Marshal's name scrawled down the side—not literally, but if the words he said when jacking off became real, printing themselves on the cloth, he'd be found out.
His phone buzzed and he checked the caller ID. Duff. He wanted to ignore the ringing, but he couldn't blow off Duff.
"Hey," he said, trying like hell to sound cool when he was anything but calm.
"We need you back here. Grant called in."
Zander drew in a slow breath, fear pinging around his body, causing his hands to shake. How in the world could he face Marshal after he kissed him like that? There was nothing innocent about the way he'd rubbed his dick against Marshal's or the way he'd slid his tongue inside Marshal's mouth, taking advantage of his vulnerable state.
"I'll be there." Zander hung up and slowed, checking his rearview mirror, seeing that few cars were behind him. Pulling onto the median, he waited for a car to pass before driving back onto the freeway, heading the opposite direction.
Marshal was the strongest man he knew. He had it together like nobody else Zander had ever known. But the man wasn't a robot and he had limits. Zander had been watching, seeing the pain behind the pretense that Marshal showed the rest of the world. Marshal hid it well, but Zander had been looking closely, studying the man as his fantasies grew. Since they were best friends, it had been easy to get close. Now he knew all about Marshal's emotions, how hard he tried to hide his unhappiness and how close he was to breaking.
A state trooper slid in behind him, staying close all the way to his cutoff, forcing him to drive the speed limit. It took him longer to get back to the ranch than it had to leave, and though it had been more than an hour since the kiss, his lips still held the sweet feel, and if he really focused, he could still taste Marshal on his tongue. It was torture, so he ignored the taste, or tried to ignore it.
Before walking into the house, he braced himself, preparing to look Marshal in the eyes and pretend like he hadn't done anything wrong. His body betrayed him though, craving the man's touch. If he could have a dream day, he'd be with Marshal in a cabin totally alone, no phone, no Internet, and they'd be naked. Zander shook himself, pushing away the erotic thoughts. He opened his truck door, glad that none of the guys were outside to see his sorry state. Each step closer to the house brought more weight to his shoulders. He glanced to the mountains standing proud as a backdrop to the homestead, wishing he could escape and hide, but he had to face the music and deal with they way he'd come on to Marshal.
The door opened, revealing Billy, "Hey, hurry up. We're waiting for you. Come on."
Zander followed him in, his gaze seeking out Marshal. Pain lanced his heart as Marshal ignored him, not even looking up. Shit, he'd ruined everything. They were best friends and now they didn't even have that.
"Zander, glad you're back." Duff called out. "Marshal, get him up to speed."
The air grew too thick to breathe. Duff didn't know. How could he? Marshal and he were best friends, it wasn't any secret, but none of these guys had any clue that he'd kissed Marshal almost two hours earlier.
"Sure," he moved toward his best f
riend, waiting for the guy to look at him, but Marshal kept his head buried in the papers, his shoulders stiff. Terrible pain twisted through Zander, and he wanted to drop to his knees, begging Marshal to forgive him, pleading to go back to what they had before.
Zander settled in the seat next to Marshal, inching the chair closer to his friend, accidently bumping into his leg. The air around them was stiff with unspoken words. The muscles on Marshal's forearm popped out as he clenched his fists. Unease filled Zander as he waited for Marshal to speak. Five seconds passed that seemed more like an hour. Zander held his breath, unsure how to even talk to Marshal.
"We've blown up a map of the area in Leeds where Craig is known to have been. The building is circled in red."
Zander pushed away the uncomfortable feeling, concentrating on the maps laid out on the table. They weren't working in the conference room, but had spread out in the kitchen, taking over every available space. Duff didn't like to set up out here often, but on special projects, they took over the main room of the house, choosing to eat as they worked instead of taking breaks.
"Can I see the iPad?" Zander asked.
Marshal glanced at him, their gazes connecting for a brief second. The impact of Marshal's angry stare was like running into a brick wall. He flinched before Marshal looked away. Breathing proved almost impossible, and he had to swallow twice to keep from throwing up.
The maps of Leeds and the surrounding area were displayed on the screen, but it could have been anywhere. His brain wouldn't work at all. Zander took a moment to allow the pain to live inside him, and then he stuffed it down, focusing on the tablet. After ten minutes of studying Leeds, he stood and turned to Duff.
"What is our goal, Duff?"
"We haven't settled it yet. I'd like to get all of the paper out of this building, but we're too far away. Grant went in alone and we don't have a team in place."
"Grant is safe, right?" Zander asked, praying that his buddy wasn't in danger.
"Yes, he's still at the location, but he's found information that he feels sure will lead him to Craig."
"Marshal was in the area not that long ago, can you tell us about it?" Zander asked.
Zander glanced at Marshal, noticing his look of surprise. They held gazes for a moment before Marshal stood, picking up the iPad. He gazed at the device, the seconds ticking away, before facing the rest of the guys. Zander's heart squeezed. Marshal's eyes were sunken and his cheeks hollow. His shoulders dipped with defeat, letting Zander know he'd pushed the man too far. As soon as he had two minutes alone with Marshal, he'd apologize, promising anything to get them back to being friends.
"I honestly like the idea of letting the police deal with the paper. They need a win, and if we give them the building, letting them sift through the mess, they might find something that will lead them to another terrorist cell, preventing one more crime. We don't have the resources to deal with it. If we were in London...but we're not. We're in Colorado and we don't have the local manpower."
Marshal sat down and no one spoke. Everyone else was looking at Marshal so Zander took the opportunity to stare at the man, appreciating his strong jaw and full lips. Those lips had tortured his dreams and now he knew how wonderful they were. He didn't want to live without that for the rest of his life, but forcing Marshal into a relationship that he didn't want wouldn’t work. Tonight, he'd find the time to talk to Marshal and make everything right.
"He's right," Billy spoke. "We don't have the resources to go in and mount a full-scale investigation. We're only interested in Craig because he was one of us. If he'd been any other guy, we'd not even contemplate picking up the papers. He screwed us over, we know that now, but what are we trying to accomplish?"
Duff moved to the center of the room, his gaze roving over the mess they'd created in the den and kitchen. "I'll call Grant and tell him to leave the paper and contact the police. We only want Craig. Grant's been there for four hours, if he hasn't found anything interesting in that amount of time, we don't need to find it. Thank you all. Now, let's put this room back in order and continue working from the command center.
"Marshal and Zander, I want you both available for later. Billy and Tucker, could you help me go through what we have so far? Roger and Mike, you two take care of the farm chores that still need to be done? James, I'd like you to stay with me. I need your expertise. With Grant in danger, we all need to be prepared and be ready. We'll sleep in shifts. Marshal and Zander, you both need to rest because I have a feeling I'll be calling on you later. Go take a nap or something."
Zander looked toward Marshal but the man was ignoring him. They wouldn’t get far working like this. He needed to clear the air. After helping the guys put away the papers and computers, he looked for Marshal, not finding him.
Marshal wouldn’t have gone far. Zander thought about ignoring the situation, but with Grant possibly in danger, they didn't have the luxury of time. Three knocks on Marshal's door went unanswered so he turned the knob, opening the door. It was the first time he'd ever felt unwelcome entering Marshal's room. They'd been friends forever, hanging out in each other's rooms without once ever having an issue. Now he felt strange and unwelcome.
The door to the bathroom opened, revealing a totally naked Marshal with a towel over his head. It took him long enough to realize Zander was in the room that Zander got a long look at all of Marshal. His gaze was on Marshal's dick and he didn't even try to hide his open admiration.
"What the fuck?" Marshal's voice was sharp, drawing Zander's gaze up. Fury blazed in his eyes and Zander knew he'd been mistaken about the whole thing.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you like that. Please forgive me."
Marshal stayed still, his fists clenched. Zander would take whatever punishment Marshal dished out. He deserved the man's anger. It took Marshal three strides to be in front of Zander, his shoulders rising and falling with each intake of breath. Zander braced himself for the impact and wasn't shocked when he was shoved into the wall before being spun around, Marshal holding his hands behind his back, trapping him.
He wouldn't fight Marshal. They had too much history between them for him to hurt his best friend. Plus, he deserved the beating. Waiting for the impact of the first fist, he glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see hate, but confusion swam in Marshal's eyes.
Their gazes connected and Marshal's grip loosened. Slowly, Zander pulled his hands from Marshal's hold and turned to face him. The anger and hate he expected wasn't there. Marshal looked just as confused as Zander felt.
"Marsh? I didn't—"
One finger rose, quieting Zander. "Shhh." They stood inches apart, Marshal's gaze holding his as the seconds ticked by. His lungs stalled as hope blossomed. He tried to breathe normally but air whooshed out of his lungs, surprising them both. Marshal took a step back and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Pain etched deep lines across Marshal's brow, his lips turning down in a frown.
Zander had never in his life felt so terrible. If he could take back that one moment and save Marshal this pain, he would. The urge to touch the man almost did Zander in, but he wouldn’t force himself on his best friend. Zander closed his eyes and plastered himself against the wall, getting as far away from Marshal as possible. If he could have slipped out of the room he would have, but Marshal had him cornered.
"Fuck it," Marshal whispered.
He opened his eyes in time to see Marshal moving close. Zander flinched, unsure what was going to happen. The slide of soft lips against his was unexpected and he gasped. Then Marshal's tongue was in his mouth and his hands were tugging at Zander's shirt. There was no mistaking who had initiated the contact.
Marshal popped the button on Zander's jeans, sliding the zipper low. His fingers played with the waistband of Zander's underwear, dipping below the band then pulling back quickly.
The kiss ended abruptly, but Marshal didn't move away. Their foreheads were touching and Marshal's hands were on his body. Zander hadn't touched Marshal yet, hadn't w
anted to assume that he could, but the allure was too great and he had to feel the man's skin. At the first touch of his fingers, Marshal flinched and Zander pulled back.
"Don't pull away. I need..."
Zander waited for Marshal to finish the sentence and tell him what he needed, but no words came. "Tell me what you need."
Marshal slid his hands over Zander's hips and into his underwear, pulling the waistband out and pushing the material down his legs. Excitement bubbled through Zander, and he gulped in some air, trying to keep his head clear. Marshal placed his hands on Zander's naked hips, his fingers curling into the flesh.
"What do you need, Marsh?" The wait for Marshal to answer was excruciating. He wouldn’t act until Marshal either told or showed him what he wanted. If this went wrong, it would be bad for both of them.
Marshal breathed in quickly and Zander thought he was going to speak, but no words came out. Then he dropped his hold on Zander, turning away. The air slowly leaked out of Zander's lungs as rejection hit him hard. It was silly to think Marshal had wanted him. Leaving things where they were wasn't healthy for the team, and no matter how much it would hurt, he needed to resolve this issue.
Zander started pulling up his pants, tucking himself in. "Marshal, I was wrong. Please don't push me away. I'll never bring this up again."
"Don't you fucking get it?" Marshal turned around, his face was red and his fists balled. "I don't want you to drop it. I want to strip off your clothes and sink into you."
The words filtered through his brain, and he tried to reject what he'd heard, forcing his desires down, but Marshal gave him no time. He grabbed onto Zander's shirt and yanked him close. Marshal growled before ripping the hem up, tugging the shirt over Zander's head, exposing his chest. The touches from Marshal were angry and harsh, his fingers pinching and grabbing, digging into Zander's skin, and he took it, allowing Marshal to explore him the only way he knew how.
"Strip," Marshal spit out before his mouth descended on Zander's shoulder, his teeth sinking into Zander's flesh.