by Sara York
The first question he wanted answered was who the fuck were these men and how dangerous were they? James had threatened him, but he could almost guarantee that if he talked to the cops, these guys would manufacture evidence against him and he'd end up being in trouble.
"Okay, I think we're fine. Cut the green wire first then the red," Grant said.
"Everyone out of the room." James waved his hand, shooing them out.
Brody wanted to stay, to ask this man more question and find out if he were for real, but he also didn't want to be blown up. James stayed beside the bomb and didn't put on any protective gear. Of course, how much protective gear would he have to put on to be protected from a blast. Probably more than he could physically wear.
"Hey," Brody said before he left the room, "don't die because after this fuckup of a day, you owe me a beer."
James nodded and Brody turned away, following behind the other guys. Why the hell had he'd said that. He couldn’t drink on the job, and he really needed to get back to his truck and help the men up on the mountain to put out the fire. Nothing seemed right since they saw the fire on the mountain. His crew was close by doing training. They'd debated for a few minutes but knew there was a house up here. In hindsight, they should have allowed it to burn.
Before he made it to the kitchen he heard James yell. "All clear."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Brody headed outside and started walking toward the fire. After ten minutes of walking, a truck pulled up beside him. The window rolled down and he looked in to see James in the driver's seat.
"Get in."
Brody thought about turning him down. His options were limited. These guys could obviously take care of themselves. They were strong and powerful. It scared him a bit that they were living so close to his home. He opened the passenger side door and crawled in, setting his gear between his legs.
"I won't say anything," Brody mumbled. He couldn’t quite meet James's gaze, afraid that he'd let his fear show too much.
"We'll be watching. Really, it's not for our safety, but yours."
"Your people said that before, what the hell do you mean by that?"
James drove in silence for a while then they crossed over the cattle guard and stopped. The hand on Brody's shoulder was heavy, causing him to shiver. He was yanked across the seat, his face held only inches from James. The silence lengthened and he wondered if James was going to speak at all. When their gazes locked, heat filled him and it was almost like he'd been burned.
James' voice was at a whisper and Brody had to strain to hear him. "Trust me on this. Keep it quiet."
Had James yelled at him, or maybe used a normal voice, he wouldn't have been unnerved, but the whisper left him shaking. He didn't doubt for a second that James could easily kill him. Brody had seen videos of guys who defused bombs and after the experience they were shaken. James seemed to be unaffected.
The truck started to roll again. Brody moved back to his seat and stared out the window, his mind racing. It would be dangerous to have these men on his bad side. When the truck stopped, he leapt out without another word and raced to the fire truck. The images from tonight were forever scorched in his mind, but he'd do his damnedest to never talk about this night with anyone.
*~*~*
After a few hours sleep, Roger woke to the announcement they would be landing. He sighed, happy to be on to the next step of his mission. He was staying in a small hotel near the prison, just like Smit would do if he came here.
The plane touched down and everyone around him flipped on their cellphones. He pulled out his and turned it on, waiting for the cell to find a signal. Roger was about to pocket the device when he saw he had a voice mail and a text message. He read the text first. It was from Grant and simply said Call Me.
He wanted to listen to the voice mail but there were too many people too close for him to have privacy. The plane stopped rolling and the doors opened. They were shuttled to customs where he lied, saying that his name was Patrick Smit. After minimal scrutiny, he was allowed into England. Finally there was a bit of privacy so he whipped out his phone and tapped the screen to listen to voice mail.
"It's Grant. Hell broke loose. Craig was captured at the ranch. Come home."
Disappointment wove through him and he pocketed his phone, trying to act like nothing had happened. Roger made his way outside before calling Grant. The phone connected after five rings and the sound of Grant's voice made his pulse race.
"Hey," Grant mumbled. It sounded like he'd just woken.
"I got your messages."
"Yeah. Can't really explain. I think you should come home."
"I'll catch a flight. I need to change." He had a fake mustache and had grown out his stubble, trying to look more like Patrick. That his first mission was a bust had him down in the dumps. He wanted to prove he could do this.
"Roger, I know you're probably disappointed, and you'll get your chance to go on a mission. But this is over."
"I'm fine."
The line was silent for a moment before Grant cleared his throat. "I miss you."
Roger's lips turned up and he nodded. "Miss you too."
"Now come home so we can kiss again."
Pain lanced his heart and he wondered if Grant knew. But there was no way for him to know that Hayden used to say the same thing to him when they were separated.
"I'll be there before your lips get cold." Roger's throat closed up as he echoed the words he used to say back to Hayden. He missed his partner more than he'd ever missed anything before. The loss was so painful, he didn't know if he could ever love like that again. He might be able to have something with Grant, but how deep could he go?
"Bye, Roger."
He disconnected the call and headed over to catch a cab. Changing his appearance at the airport bathroom would blow his cover. He had the taxi take him to a mall where he transformed. With the mustache off and his clothes changed, Roger headed back to the airport, ready to be home with Grant, snuggled close under the covers as they explored each other's bodies.
Chapter Twenty
Twenty-four hours after the incident at the ranch, Zander stood beside Marshal's bed, waiting for him to wake. They'd flown him into Colorado Springs and Zander had stayed with him, only leaving his side when the doctors took him in for surgery. The operations were done with, and he'd woken a few times, but the drugs had muddled his mind so much Marshal hadn't said one thing that made sense.
The drugs were wearing off, at least the heavy drugs were, and Marshal was beginning to stir again. Zander wanted to be there the minute he opened his eyes. Roger was scheduled to come back to the ranch later in the day. They would sit down and debrief him, though he hadn't actually performed all of his mission so it wasn't really that important, more just an exercise to make sure they didn't lose their edge. Since the mission had been called off, Zander wouldn't need to be there. Eventually, after Marshal left the hospital, they'd spend time talking about what happened on the mountain, but for now, he'd be happy if Marshal came back to him.
The fire was out. He'd been relieved to hear that the ranch was no longer under threat. Grant didn't think there would be any issues with the firemen coming to Wild Bluff. Of course, they'd all need to keep an eye on Brody.
Marshal moved again and Zander leaned in close, his lips almost at Marshal's ear. "Babe, I'm here for you. Wake up and let me see those brown eyes of yours."
It took another minute, but Marshal blinked open his eyes, his brow furrowing before his lips curved just a little. He tried to speak but nothing came out. Zander smiled and held up a glass of water, positioning the straw so Marshal could take a small sip.
"That's enough, babe. I can do the talking for now. I love you. When you come back to the ranch, you're moving in with me. I know we already sleep together, but we're going to live together, just as a couple would."
Marshal struggled like he was trying to sit up, but Zander placed his hand on Marshal's chest, careful to not press too
hard.
"No arguments."
"Wha-what happened?" Marshal stuttered.
"You broke your right arm. Your left fibula is fractured, but it doesn't look too bad. The doctor thinks you'll be able to walk with a brace, but you'll not be allowed to put weight on it for at least two days. He just wants to make sure. You also broke three ribs and the worst injury is a really bad concussion. Well, I think it's the worst since it's a brain injury."
"Really?"
"The doctor said the swelling on your brain is minimal, luckily it wasn't enough for them to want to sedate you long term. They want to see what happens."
"What else?" Marshal groaned when he tried to move.
"Don't try to move. There are a lot of things that happened to you. The nurse will be in to get you sitting up soon and it's going to hurt."
"Great."
"Yeah, but you survived."
"Zander."
"Yeah, babe?"
"Thank you."
"Any time."
Marshal fell asleep without another word. Zander stayed with him, watching over his man as he waited for him to wake again. They were together and that was enough for him.
*~*~*
Roger cut the engine and stared at the house in front of him. Wild Bluff was a beautiful place to live. He couldn’t believe his luck. His last mission fell apart, but he was pleased with his life since moving to the ranch.
He glanced to the mountain, seeing the scorched face. Only about a thousand acres had burned, but it was enough to leave a mark. Had he been here, he wondered if things would have gone differently. It was almost useless to question and try to hash out what might have been.
The door opened and Grant stepped outside. They stared at each other for a long moment. Roger popped open the door to the car and stepped out. Grant approached, his lips curving up in a slight smile.
"Have a nice trip?"
He let his eyes rover over Grant, drinking in the guy's beauty. "You know it."
"Next time it will be better."
"Probably. Heard you had an exciting time here."
"Eh, it was okay."
Duff stepped outside, followed by Billy, Mike, and Tucker. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Leaving the military was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but staying where the memory of Hayden was so raw seemed impossible at the time. Now he had a family to share his life with. He glanced back to Grant, warming under the heat of his gaze.
"Glad you're back," Duff said.
"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be home."
"When Marshal comes back, we'll have a long discussion about everything." Duff turned to head inside, but paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, I consider your first mission a success. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, even aborting when you were so close to completing everything."
Roger nodded. "It was tough not to go ahead to question them."
"What you didn't know was that the US Army had Craig in custody at the time."
"Had?" Roger asked.
"He's still in custody, different branch of government, but he's not talking. They are holding him in solitary. It wouldn’t do to have him discussing his life here on Wild Bluff with just anybody."
"Yeah, probably not." Roger opened the trunk of the car and pulled out his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and stopped beside Grant while they let the other men enter the house.
Grant glanced at him then back to the door the other men had just entered. "Tonight, I really need to see you."
Desire hardened his cock. "I can't wait."
"When you head to bed, just come to my room."
They started walking to the house but Roger stopped. "Hey, Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"What if Craig told other people about Wild Bluff?"
Grant stared off into the distance before looking at Roger, his gaze as hard as steel. "Let's pray he didn't."
Ten minutes later:
Roger stepped into Grant's room, surprised to see two white candles casing a romantic glow on the room. He sighed and locked the door behind him. Grant stepped out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. This is what he missed most about having a man of his own. It wasn't the huge moments that were life changing, but the small things like getting dressed in the morning, fighting over skink space, and holding each other at night that made life better. Grant may not be Hayden, but Roger was going to open his heart and see if they could make something of what they had.
He tugged his shirt out of his jeans, pulling it over his head and tossed it to the floor. Next, he worked on his jeans and kicked his shoes to the side. He was naked, save his underwear. Grant ran the water in the bathroom sink and it sounded like he was finishing up.
"I need to shower," Roger said as he entered the bathroom.
Grant turned and nodded, his gazed traveling down Roger then back up. "I'm all for that."
His heart sped up as he tossed his underwear to the floor. Grant stripped then followed him into the shower. Their first touches were tentative and gentle, learning each other slowly. He licked at Grant's mouth, glad when he finally opened. Roger slid his tongue in, fucking Grant's mouth, hoping the man took the idea to heart. He needed to feel Grant inside of him. After a quick swipe of his body with the soap, he turned and spread his legs.
Grant smoothed his hand over Roger's ass, grasping tightly to both cheeks. "I've wanted to have a piece of this ass for a long time."
"Take me."
The smooth chuckle sent shivers down Roger's back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Grant pouring lube on his hand. The first brush of Grant's fingers over his pucker made him jump, but he settled quickly. He breathed in deep, relaxing as Grant worked him open, loosening his ring of muscles.
Then Grant was pressing his cock at Roger's opening, his hands strong and sure on Roger's hips. It seemed like Grant's flat cockhead sat at his opening for a long time, but it had to be only seconds. He pushed forward as Roger shoved his hips back. Pain speared him and he gulped in a breath as he told himself to relax.
Roger closed his eyes, letting the tears come. Only Haden had done this, no one else. But he wanted Grant. His emotions were all over the place as Grant slid in, plastering his body against Rogers.
He grabbed Grant's hands and wove their fingers together. Grant stilled, his lips at Roger's ear. "Let me love you," Grant whispered.
"Yes," Roger replied, amazed that he'd get to start a new chapter with his man who thrilled him with his touches. It may not be what he thought he would have, but life with Grant would be good.
The End
Sara York Bio
Writing is Sara's life. The stories fight to get out, often leaving her working on four or five books at once. She can't help but write. Along with her writing addiction she has a coffee addiction. Some nights, the only reason she stops writing and goes to sleep is for the fresh brewed coffee in the morning.
Sara enjoys writing twisted tales of passion, anger, and love with a good healthy dose of lust thrown in for fun. Almost a quarter of a century ago Sara met her lover, falling for him after knowing him for ten minutes. Sara's passion for him comes out in her stories, mixing with her passion for life, love, and good times, flowing onto the page and becoming tales from the heart.
Visit Sara York at her Blog or Website.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
&n
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