The Farther He Runs: A Kick Novel

by Lynda Aicher

  “Like what?”

  “Organizing the schedules. Expanding the operations. Holding the team together.”

  “All of it done behind a desk.”

  “No.” Tanner frowned, refusing to sign on to Finn’s pity party of one. “Nothing’s stopping you from being outside. Go check on the outposts. Stay involved like you always were. How many tours did you actually run anymore anyway?”

  Finn glared at him, a confirmation that Tanner was right. Hell, he knew he was right. He might have been physically absent, but he wasn’t clueless about either their lives or the company.

  “Now could be a great time to start up a few of those Wounded Warrior events we talked about. Or maybe connect in with the whitewater group that teaches injured veterans to kayak.” Tanner didn’t let Finn’s cool demeanor deter him. “The only one stopping you is you. Improvise, adapt—”

  “And overcome,” Finn said on a sigh, finishing the Marine Corps mantra. “I know.” He shook his head, smile twitching. “How’d this get turned to me anyway? I wasn’t the one who took a mind trip into the past today.”

  Tanner nudged him, grinning. “It’s my secret power. Did you forget that?”

  “No,” Finn scoffed. “Christ. You were always the master at that. It used to drive Chris nuts. I think one of the reasons he was so determined to be friends was so he could finally crack you.”

  His smile slipped away, the past sweeping in once again. This time with a slice of sorrow and regret. “It worked.”

  “Did it?”

  “Yeah.” He tugged Finn so that he rested against his side. He laced their fingers together, chest contracting around the flash of emptiness Chris had left. “You two wouldn’t let me hide from who I was.”

  “Wrong. You never hid from that.” Pride showed in Finn’s eyes. “You always knew who you were, and it wasn’t about your background, or your race, or your family, or your sexuality.” He squeezed his hand. “I always admired that.”

  “Really? I never knew that.” But then why should he have known? They were simply friends and, hell, they were guys. Talks like this were usually held over too many beers and then blown over in the morning.

  Finn shrugged. “Now you do.”

  “But I sure as hell never felt like I knew anything. Fuck. I’m still figuring myself out.” Outside of the guys at Kick, basically no one knew he was gay. He’d let go of the “bi” tag years back when he’d acknowledged it for the crutch it was. The gay part of himself was still locked in a closet beside the little kid with strange-shaped eyes and something to prove. But what did he have to prove now? To whom? And why?

  “Aren’t we all?”

  His soft laugh was more air than sound. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

  “Some more than others.” Finn sighed, his head falling back to rest on the couch. He put his feet on the coffee table, and Tanner copied him.

  They sat like that for a while, Finn tracing circles on Tanner’s inner wrist in absent passes that soothed. The fire had died down to a small flame and a pile of red coals. Tanner relaxed into the easy comfort, thoughts mellowing.

  He would miss this—miss everything—when he went back. He always did, but it would hurt this time. This thing with Finn was old and new at once. Would their relationship last the separation? Would their friendship? When would they see each other again?

  His stomach knotted around the rush of worries he couldn’t solve. Not now at least. So he shoved them away with the remains of his flashback. He couldn’t lose Finn. Not in any capacity. They’d figure something out. Make this work.

  He refused to think about an outcome that didn’t include Finn in his life.

  Chapter 22

  Ten days. Ten days of living with Tanner as his lover. Of holding him close. Of sleeping next to him. Of weaving the sexual side of their relationship into the friendship that’d already been there. More commanding hand jobs, blow jobs, and fucks had blended with quiet talks and silent support as they both worked through their own demons.

  With fourteen deployments under him, Tanner had developed his own way of handling them. One Finn respected and had learned to navigate years ago. There was no way anyone could dedicate almost twenty years of his life to active duty during a period of war without creating his own shields and decompression processes. Which he and Chris had often been a part of.

  Tanner’s dreams had been getting worse, though. He’d awaken every night in a sweat, his cries, fits of twisting, and shouted orders yanking Finn out of his sleep. Had Tanner been having these nightmares the entire time he was here, or had the flashback launched them?

  It hurt to watch him struggle like that. Holding him after Tanner woke did little to ease his own aching heart. Would he re-up again? And then what? What would that mean for them?

  As for himself, he was getting stronger. Emotionally and physically. It was crazy to think his rapid improvement was all Tanner’s doing, but he wasn’t going to fool himself, either. A part of him had been waiting all those months for Tanner to show up. To prove he wasn’t alone and that he still had his brother to his left.

  He heard Tanner stirring. A groan. Footsteps. A drawer opening. He smiled at the soft curse that drifted into the kitchen and lowered himself into a long stretch. The massages Tanner had insisted on giving him the last week had helped a lot. That, and the sudden reappearance of the large amounts of endorphins in his system from the frequent sex.

  They’d made it out for a run almost every day, his stamina intact. He could reach four and a half miles before he had to stop now. Over halfway around the loop. In true drill-instructor fashion, Tanner had bullied him the entire last mile yesterday. As good as his physical therapist was, this right here was what he needed. Coming back to the basics, focusing on the Corps’ core values and demand for both mental and physical fitness.

  Honor. Courage. Commitment.

  He still had all of them. They were bound tightly to who he was. They hadn’t left him, even when his body and mind had abandoned him for a bit.

  Tanner grumbled a greeting on his way to the bathroom, running clothes on. Finn let his smile out, countless mornings exactly like this one providing a sense of balance. How often had they gone on runs together when the sun was still a thought on the horizon? At times over the last weeks, he’d almost forgotten how non-normal this was. How much had changed and was never going to be the same again.

  He was stretching his arms when Tanner stomped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Finn frowned. Another bad dream? Too early? Or was it a simple case of rolling out of the wrong side of the bed?

  More rummaging around in the bedroom. A few slammed drawers. Mumbling.

  What the fuck is he doing?

  A moment later Tanner stomped out again, a scowl drawing lines up his forehead. He slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter, challenge flaring hard in his dark eyes.

  Finn’s brows shot up, his spine snapping straight. Caution snaked in on a warning that prickled over his nape and alerted him to danger ahead. He lowered his brows, heart thumping a noticeable beat.

  Tanner held his gaze for another moment, lips pulled tight in a look that’d have gotten an immediate reaction from any subordinate. Whatever was going on, he was damn serious about it.

  With a snap of his head, he pulled his hand back, gaze still locked on Finn, that challenge blazing brighter. Like Finn had ever backed down from a dare from either one of his brothers.

  Determination ignited in his chest, fire lashing out as he raced to figure out what this was about. He lowered his gaze to the counter, prepared for almost anything except for what he saw.

  “Nipple clamps?” He whipped his head up, confusion scrambling the thoughts he’d managed to tie together. “What…?” Were those for him? Now? A payback for the plug? He rubbed his chest absently, indecision swooping in before certainty slammed home. “I’m not wearing those.”

  “Good.” Tanner’s expression didn’t change at all.

  “Then wh
at’s this about?” He dropped his hand to his side as his nipples started to tighten.

  Tanner’s slow smile was edged with the deviousness he usually kept locked behind his façade of respectability. He picked up the clamps, the connecting chain dangling from his palm.

  His smirk was in full charm mode now. The one that’d courted many men into a quickie or an evening of play—with him as the Dom.

  “They’re for me.”

  His statement hung between them, bigger than the objects themselves. Was Finn supposed to react to this? How? His cock stirred in the tight containment of his compression tights. The idea of Tanner running eight miles with those attached to his nipples, blood trapped, sensitivity heightened by the rub of his tight shirt, was too damn good.

  Or was this a test of his dominance? His stomach churned as the thought slithered through his field of loose threads.

  “And,” he added before Finn could figure out a response. “If you make it five and a half miles, I’ll add this.” He drew his other hand from behind his back to reveal a silicon cock ring with an adjustable leather strap and chain on it.

  Oh fuck. Finn swallowed. An instant image of how incredible Tanner would look wearing those items slammed over everything else in his head. His throat had gone dry, but he tried to swallow anyway and ended up coughing. At least that yanked some other thoughts into his head. It would be torturous as hell for Tanner to run wearing the clamps attached to the cock ring, every step tugging his nipples and yanking the ring, his erection straining.

  He jerked his focus from the sex toys to Tanner’s eyes.

  Seriously?

  Yes.

  You’re sure?

  Positive.

  “I’m not making you do this,” Finn said, his Dom struggling with the reality of Tanner’s wanting this. Being forceful in bed, taking liberties and control there was one thing. This crossed into butt-plug territory, and called to mind the regret he still felt for what he’d forced Tanner to go through.

  Tanner visibly bristled, shoulders going back, chest lifting, eyes narrowing to hard slits. His voice was pure steel when he spoke, words crisp. “This is something I want to do.” Again with the challenge. Or was that defiance? And if so, toward Finn or himself?

  Finn relaxed his pose, letting his muscles go slack like he’d learned to do when negotiating with a potentially hostile local. This was another kind of negotiation, and it was more than just a way to motivate Finn into running farther. Tanner himself needed something from this.

  Caution dug in, the threads snapping together to ensure this didn’t go badly. Tanner had laid down a challenge, but he wanted to wear the nipple clamps. The cock ring was an added incentive to entice Finn’s nature and feed part of his own. He was choosing to endure the torment for Finn, and by doing so, giving him the power—or hoping he’d take it.

  He could do that. He would do that for Tanner.

  “All right, then.” He cocked his head, speculating, more threads joining. “But I get to put them on.”

  A low, sultry groan rumbled out of Tanner, his head falling back as his eyes closed. And that was enough to get Finn’s dick filling when his little head needed to stay the fuck down.

  One thing was for damn sure—he’d reach that five-and-a-half-mile marker even if he had to drag himself there.

  Four miles later, he was even more determined to win. Tanner looked so fucking gorgeous. Sweat ran in small rivers down the side of his face and neck, chest lifting with each hard inhalation. He stood tall, the clamps and chain clearly displayed beneath the tight hold of his running shirt. His erection ran at an angle over his lower abdomen in a declaration of how well the clamps had worked.

  Finn almost groaned aloud, but he held it back—for like the thousandth time since they’d started the run. He shook his head and looked away before he tackled Tanner right there in the misty morning and fucked them both senseless.

  Would he let him? Fight him? Beg for more? Should he take the lead and order him? But this was a relationship, not a…

  Tick, tick, tick…There. Finn grabbed ahold of the consistent beat and let the random threads fall away. His mind cleared and he steadied his breaths to an eight count. Four in, four out.

  “Fuck.”

  The breathy curse put a smirk on Finn’s face. He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them. Tanner was hunched over, hands braced on his knees. “Problem?”

  He shook his head, focus still on the ground. “Nope.”

  Finn chuckled at the obvious lie. He lifted his face to the sky, the low-hanging fog blocking the tops of the trees and obscuring the view on all sides. He did a quick assessment of his own body and found a few aches, some sore joints…and a calm focus that he’d been missing for so long.

  This was why he exercised. The endorphins had kicked in, and he wallowed in them for a moment. A few weeks of hard, focused exercise and fresh air had gotten him further than months of machine work and free weights had.

  He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this healthy feeling. Yes, he’d hated being out of shape. Had despised being dependent on someone just to piss and walk.

  But this right here was power.

  He had control of his body back. His brain was coming around. He wasn’t alone.

  “Your pace was faster today,” Tanner said.

  It had been. He’d completed all the obstacles more quickly, and done more reps too—without his arms feeling like they were going to shake off.

  He studied Tanner, smile growing. “I bet I can make it six miles.”

  Tanner straightened, an interested wariness displayed under his raised brow. “Yeah?”

  He nodded, slow and deliberate.

  “And?”

  A casual shrug, feigned disinterest as the idea came together. “If I can’t, then I’ll wear the toys for the rest of the run. All of them.”

  Tanner’s eyes sprang wide, grin appearing. “Race?”

  “Fuck, no.” He scowled. “I’m not that gullible—or stupid.” Tanner could still run circles around him.

  His full, rich laugh snagged around Finn’s heart and stunned him with its strength. Free and open, it tugged at the good memories and laid future ones out before them. And that easily, he fell more in love.

  “Fine. Deal.” Tanner turned up the trail. “But I’m setting the pace.” That devious-dare expression was back when he grinned over his shoulder, already moving. They hadn’t done their burpees, but he didn’t care. Maybe he’d make Tanner do them when they reached the cabin.

  “Fucker,” Finn called, his smile splitting his face as he charged after him.

  This was perfect—if he didn’t think about how Chris should be in the middle. Provoking him into moving faster or instigating something crazy and just this side of pure stupid.

  No, he couldn’t think like that. Chris wouldn’t have wanted that. There were just the two of them now. He had to focus on the living. Tanner needed him, and he had to be there for him—would be.

  The path was mostly downhill now, the slope steep at some points, requiring all of his concentration to time his footing with the dropping terrain. His thighs and calves burned more than his lungs, the descent using different muscles. That’d been his intent when he’d cut this course, and part of him cursed his ingenuity now.

  Yet he reveled in the challenge.

  “Let’s go, Marine,” Tanner called back, his strides steady and swift. “You’re slowing down. Those chicken legs of yours are weak as sticks, boy.”

  Boy? He’d been no one’s “boy” since the day he’d graduated from boot camp. “Fuck you, sir,” he barked, his laughter smothered around his heavy breaths.

  “You have to catch me first.”

  Tanner was a good bit ahead of him, and the chance of Finn actually catching him was about nil. At least not yet. Now after Tanner added the cock ring…“I’ll be sure to do that before we’re done.”

  “Right.” Tanner laughed around the word. “I can’t wait.”


  Finn cursed when they reached the five-mile marker. The fucking wall. Of course Tanner would demand he do it. The obstacle was on every Marine course since boot camp. He’d built his at eight feet tall and had only used the rope when he’d wanted to work his muscles that way. Usually he’d launch himself up, grab the top edge, and haul himself over, like Tanner had just done.

  Now? He had no clue if he could make it either way, but fuck if he was failing before he tried. No—fuck if he was failing at all.

  He increased his speed and leaped, one foot shoving off the wall. He could’ve grabbed the top of the wall, but latched on to the rope instead. The muscles through his shoulders and arms screamed in protest with each pull as he worked his way up. Tick. Tick. Tick. His movements were timed with the beat that synchronized his actions. Failure wasn’t an option, so he dug in until he could swing a leg over the top and leverage himself up.

  Success screamed through him, the small victory huge. He dropped down the other side, proud grin spread wide. “Ooh-rah.” The call came out automatically and filled him with the power and drive designed to motivate warriors.

  Tanner tipped his head in acknowledgment and took off down the trail. “We’re not done yet, Gravy. Get your sorry ass moving!”

  Any comeback was squashed beneath his determination. His whole body ached, and he reveled in every twinge and throb. This was what he lived for. This drive to overcome. To not only succeed but excel. To be his best and push past it.

  Tanner had done this for him. Gotten him back on track and reminded him how life was meant to be lived. Full-on, balls-to-the-wall, conquered.

  The next mile flew by on the elevated high he’d reached. The aches fell away as he became one with the harmony of his strides and the connection of his movements. Everything was clicking together for the first time since his coma, and he didn’t want to lose it.