Craft Brew

by Layla Reyne

  “I said a lot of things that night.”

  Holding Cam’s right wrist with his left hand, arm stretched across his body, locking him in, Nic slid his right hand free and caressed the lower right quadrant of Cam’s torso. “Do you remember what you said about the tattoo I have on me here?”

  Cam’s skin there was bare, but in the same place on Nic, a rainbow-colored frog held a SEAL trident. He’d gotten the tattoo when Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had been repealed. “We don’t celebrate the victories enough,” Cam said, repeating his words from that night.

  “That’s right.” Nic slid his hand the rest of the way over Cam’s stomach and around his waist, pulling him back tight. “You rescued Shannon Murphy. You saved her, Cameron. That’s a victory, and not a small one. I know there’s a lot of darkness right now, but there’s light too. Shannon’s safe.”

  Cam heaved a giant breath, remembering the way Shannon’s mother had arrived in Lincoln and wrapped her daughter in her arms, crying tears of joy.

  He heaved another breath, and choked on it, realizing his mother would likely never have that moment.

  Chin on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his, Nic whispered, “I’ve got you” in his ear. “Let it out.”

  “Mom will never have that,” he croaked out through another stuttered breath. “I let her down as a kid, and now I’ve let her down as an adult. She may die without an answer about her only daughter, my sister, who I should have protected that day.” He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head back on Nic’s shoulder, tears leaking out and joining the other tracks of wetness on his face. “Oh, God, she’ll never know. I tried...” His words drifted off, trapped behind the lump in his throat.

  Nic clenched him tighter, and Cam swore it was the only thing keeping him together. That and Nic’s faith in him. “She knows, Boston. That you dedicated the rest of your life to atoning for that day. That you help other families so they don’t lose their loved ones too. That you’re here trying to give her resolution.”

  His breaths came shorter now, not quite sobs, Nic holding him too snug for that, but the tears, exhaustion, and frustration he’d been fighting for the past week were bubbling up and out. “If she has to go, I wanted her to go...” Three gulped breaths later. “To go to heaven and know Erin was there waiting for her.”

  Nic shifted around to his side and lifted a hand, lightly grasping his chin and turning his face toward him. Cam startled at seeing tear tracks on his face too. “You wanted her to know that?”

  Cam swallowed hard, admitting the truth. “I needed to know that.” He reached up, brushing the wetness from Nic’s face. “Why—”

  “Because I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this when I know you’ve damn near killed yourself to make it otherwise.”

  God, this man. Behind that cold hard mask, it was nothing but fire and feeling inside. So deep, so loyal, so self-sacrificing that Nic had stood by his decisions all week, even as he disagreed, even as he almost broke himself on this case. Like he’d done for someone else nearly thirty years ago and been disowned for. Because he’d do anything to protect and help those he cared for. That’s the man he was—the man Cam was in love with. And fuck if he didn’t want everyone to know it.

  He leaned forward, forehead resting against Nic’s temple. “You know what else I regret,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Nic wiped again at his face, then trailed the hand over his back, soothing, as the other rested on his thigh. “You have nothing...”

  “I regret that she might die not knowing I’ve fallen in love.”

  Nic gasped, the hinge of his jaw opening under Cam’s lips, and the hand on Cam’s back froze while the other on his thigh tensed.

  “She might never know that her son had found a smart, beautiful man, a soldier and lawyer, who would stand by her son’s side, even when he didn’t deserve it.”

  “Boston,” Nic rasped.

  He drew back and framed Nic’s face in his hands, senses firing at the thicker than usual scruff prickling his palms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I realize now how much I want her to know you, to know you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been, that I love you.” He tilted forward, dropping a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I’m so sorry I was too much of a coward to tell her.”

  Long, soothing fingers trailed up his back and carded through his hair. “You don’t owe me an apology.”

  He shook his head. “I love you, Dominic. The last thing I want to do is hide that love, from anyone. Can you forgive me?”

  “Nothing to forgive.”

  “Do you love me?”

  Nic’s lips trailed across his cheek, nuzzling, as the hand on his thigh inched higher. “More than I should.”

  “Then I’m ready to present our case.”

  Nic pulled back, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown so wide hardly any of the blue showed, but the dark brows across the top of them were knitted. “What are you saying, Boston?”

  Cam smoothed over them with his fingertips, then down Nic’s face. “No more hiding, from anyone. Family, friends, the fucking Federal Building. I don’t want to regret not telling anyone how much I love you.”

  Nic gripped his wrists. “You’re putting yourself in the line of fire. I need you to understand that.”

  “I’m already there, baby.”

  The fingers around his wrists convulsed, then constricted, Nic’s face taking on the determined look he got right before he went into a courtroom. The look that made Cam’s blood boil. “I won’t lose you.”

  “We can’t be sure of that,” Cam said. He was a law enforcement officer, Nic was an officer of the court—anything could happen, that was their reality. So was the fact he loved this man. “But I don’t want to waste another minute of loving you.”

  “No objections.”

  Nic captured his lips, the same sort of deep, claiming kiss from this morning. Only this time he wasn’t making an argument. And neither was Cam. The case was closed. Another victory, seemingly small but huge for them. Back to building what they’d started months ago, the both of them on the same schedule.

  “Need you,” Cam mumbled against his lips. “Too long.”

  Nic dropped a hand onto his thigh again, but it didn’t stay there long. He glided it up and over his erection, palming him through the cotton of his boxer briefs. Cam groaned, thrusting into it. “Let me take care of you,” Nic whispered, stroking him as he ran a tongue up the side of his neck. “I just want to be here for you.”

  All the tension of the past week bled out of him. Relaxing back into Nic’s body, Cam laid his head on his shoulder, baring his neck, and threw his legs over Nic’s knees. Spread wide, he rolled his hips and shoved his dick into Nic’s grasp. “Take me, baby.” Away from it all, for the space of a moment, to celebrate this victory they so badly needed.

  Nic’s hands disappeared, but only long enough to strip off his shirt, then his warm, bare chest was against Cam’s back and his hands were on his body again, traveling two different directions. One cutting a path to his nipple, the other diving below his waistband. Cam lifted his hips, encouraging Nic to push them down farther so it was easier to stroke and fondle. As Nic pumped him, Cam writhed back against the erection nudging his backside. His ass clenched in anticipation, wanting Nic inside him. The prosecutor preferred to bottom, but he’d been willing to switch on occasion, when the urge hit Cam. And it was hitting him hard tonight, wanting that connection and more. Needing to grab hold of every part of Nic.

  He turned his head, mouthing the underside of Nic’s jaw. “Want you to take all of me tonight. Want to feel all of you inside me.”

  Nic swiped his fingers over the tip of his cock, collecting moisture, then closing them back around him, easing the slide. “Whatever you want tonight, I’ll give you all of it. Everything.” Using his knees, he spread Cam’s legs wider and dipped his hand lower, down the seam of his b
alls and under to tease his taint. Cam groaned and shoved his ass back against Nic’s erection, practically riding him. Grabbing his chin, Nic angled his face around and plunged a tongue into his open mouth, renewing that connection.

  Cam poured it all into their kiss—all of this week’s fear and frustration, all of his guilt from the past two decades, and all of his love for this man that’d been building for over a year.

  They kissed and rocked, wrapped up in everything, in each other, until Nic lifted his legs and tumbled them backward. He slithered out from under Cam, ditched the rest of his clothes, and climbed onto all fours beside him. He leaned over his crotch and took him down his throat in one swallow.

  “Ah fuck, yeah.” Eyes scrunched closed, Cam arched his back off the mattress. Every bit of him, every thought, every weight and worry, was being sucked out of him, Nic taking the darkness away and just leaving him with light. Pure white scorching light.

  It brightened more when Nic eased off his dick, mouthed each of his balls, then hand on his hip, rolled him the opposite direction, onto his side. He spread his cheeks and speared his hole with his tongue, teasing and licking.

  “Yeah, baby, that’s it,” Cam panted. “Get me ready for you.”

  Nic rimmed him into a writhing mess before backing off his hole and nipping his ass cheek. “Tell me how you want this.”

  “Bare. I want to feel all of you.”

  Nic groaned and took another bite of his cheek. “I’m clean. It’s only been you, for over a year.”

  “Same,” Cam moaned, the one word drawn out as Nic reached an arm through his legs, grasping his dick. Cam dropped a hand over his, stroking him together.

  “Keep jacking yourself,” Nic said after what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. Withdrawing his slick hand, Nic rubbed it down Cam’s crack, around the wet rim, and pushed a finger inside.

  Cam stroked himself through the burn of one finger, then two and finally a third. Nic did his part for distraction as well, licking and kissing over Cam’s shoulder, his neck, and up to his ear, groaning there when he began to stroke and coat himself.

  “Get that dick in me,” Cam ordered on a growl. “Now.”

  “Tell me to stop if I need to,” Nic said. “I’m taking care of you.” His kisses were soft, gentle, a sharp contrast to the hard length pushing into him, spreading, burning.

  He grimaced, the sting sharp without extra lube, and he couldn’t keep a hiss from escaping his clenched teeth.

  “Okay?”

  Cam nodded.

  “Short breaths,” Nic said, winding his arms around him again, holding him tight across the chest like before.

  Cam relaxed into the strong, sure hug, held together, safe.

  Nic thrust gently, once, twice, taking care as Cam got used to the fit again.

  “Harder,” Cam pleaded, and Nic rolled them so Cam was sprawled on top of him, dick saluting the ceiling. He hiked their legs up, sinking deeper, hitting Cam in just the right spot.

  “Jesus, fuck,” he cursed, never feeling so wide open nor so safe before.

  His arms flailed and Nic was there, catching him, tangling their fingers. Wrapping one combined grip around his dick, working him together, he laid the other across his chest, splayed over his heart.

  Holding all of him.

  It was all so bright, blinding white, not a speck of darkness in his world, all of it focused on the man beneath him, inside him.

  He came wrapped up in love, Nic’s “Love you, Boston,” a whispered exclamation in his ear.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nic cleaned himself off and wet a second washcloth for Cam, wringing out the excess water before he grabbed a dry hand towel, killed the bathroom light, and crossed the room back to the bed.

  Cam was sprawled on his back, phone held high above his face, avoiding the mess on his torso.

  “Any updates?” Nic asked, as he wiped Cam clean.

  “No change on Harper’s whereabouts. Mom’s condition has improved. Priest may have been premature.”

  “That’s good.” Nic glided the washcloth over his cock, and Cam shuddered, bobbling the phone. Nic caught it and set it on the bedside table. “Sensitive?”

  “Wonder why?” Cam grinned, and Nic’s world righted the rest of the way with that smile.

  He slapped Cam’s hip. “On your side, Boston, so I can finish cleaning up the mess I made.”

  Cam shimmied on the sheets. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”

  Chuckling, he gave up and pushed, not giving the agent an option. “Until you wake up in a wet spot.”

  “Why must you always be the voice of reason?”

  “Um, lawyer.”

  Lawyers also asked questions, and as the sky had begun to lighten outside, and the outline of Boston harbor appeared out of the dark, a particular topic, a worry, had weaseled its way back into Nic’s brain.

  “Why’d you leave Boston?” he asked.

  “The job, to be Aidan’s partner, to be in the same place as Jamie. And there was this AUSA who’d caught my eye.”

  “Oh, is that right?” He rolled Cam back onto the mattress and tossed the cloths off the bed. He propped himself on his side, one leg thrown over Cam’s, head in his hand. “That the only reason?”

  Cam snagged his free hand, tangling their fingers and laying them on his chest. Nic could feel his thundering heartbeat underneath.

  And the rumble of Cam’s words. “Bobby almost caught me with a guy. I was out at this place in JP, Jamaica Plain, and Bobby was there late, upgrading their security system. I’m on the dance floor with two guys, hands down the pants of the dude in front of me, riding back on the one behind me, and my brother walks by not ten feet away.”

  A wave of jealousy burned through Nic’s veins, making him see red. Cam’s hand on his cheek pushed the haze away. “I’ll only be dancing with you from now on.”

  “I don’t dance.”

  Cam smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Dream on, Boston.” Nic kissed his palm, then wound their fingers together again, unable to shake his doubts completely. “But this is your home, Cameron. You’ve got a good partner in Matt and the SAC shares your professional interests. All of your family’s here.”

  Cam’s fingers tightened around his. “Don’t you want me in San Francisco?”

  Nic listed forward, stealing a kiss. “Of course I do, more than I should. But you’d be safer here.”

  Cam glared. “We gonna have this argument again?”

  Nic laughed, happy to hear Cam sounding more and more like himself again. “No. We’re not. I just want you to be happy, whatever, wherever that is.”

  Cam rolled onto his side, bringing them front to front. “You know what makes me happy?”

  He smoothed a hand over Cam’s hip and around to palm his ass, bringing their cocks back into rutting contact. “What’s that, Boston?”

  Cam laid a line of kisses over his collarbone. “Being in the same town as my best friend. Working with the best agent I’ve ever known. Finding the person who grounds me like no other. Drinking my man’s beer and then kissing the taste of it off his tongue. You gonna tell me more about that FBI Stout?” Cam tongued the groove at the base of his neck and Nic shoved him onto his back, rolling on top of him.

  “It’s a work in progress, but I think it’s gonna be our best brew yet.” Smiling, he kissed Cam long and leisurely, imagining how good the new beer was going to taste on his boyfriend’s lips.

  When they broke for breath, Cam was gazing up at him, a touch forlorn again as he played with the hair at his temples. “Why do you want me?” he asked. “I’m flat broke, especially living there, I pick arguments with you for the fun of it, and our sports allegiances are totally incompatible.”

  Nic stared down at the man he loved, who’d bullied his way
through three decades of hardened defenses. “You rescue lost people for a living. Is it any wonder you found me?”

  “But you’re still hiding parts, aren’t you?”

  Damn investigator, too good at his job. “Yes, because they’re not my story to tell. Will that stop you from rescuing me?”

  “Me?” he said with a rock of his hips. “Rescue the Navy SEAL?”

  Nic framed his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks and soaking in the lovely dark gaze swirling with more than he’d ever hoped to have again. “I need you to keep holding on to that rope, Cam, even when I try to cut through it with a Ka-Bar.”

  Cam laid his hands over his and locked his legs around his thighs, caging him in. “I’ll hold on, baby, with everything I got.”

  * * *

  A buzzing sound roused Nic from sleep. Turning his head and seeing his phone lit up on the bedside table, he threw out an arm, silencing it before it could also wake Cam. The big body half on top of his shifted, but the snores maintained their steady rhythm. They’d only been out a couple hours; enough for Nic but Cam could use an hour more. Seeing no messages on Cam’s phone, he slipped carefully out of Cam’s arms and out of the bed, smiling as he pulled the sheet up over Cam.

  His phone buzzed again in his hand, and he shot a text back to Mel that he’d call her in five. It was early there, but she ran according to her own clock most of the time. Not wanting to put his suit back on, he snagged a pair of Cam’s jeans, just a couple inches short, and—God help him—a BoSox tee, covered it up with Cam’s BC hoodie, shoved his feet in Cam’s boots, and pocketed a room key on the way out the door. First he looked up the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts—Cam seemed to think he needed to eat them as often as possible here, like they hadn’t just opened one up by the airport back home—then once he’d placed a mobile order and started the right direction, he dialed Mel back.

  “Price,” she answered, “how are things there?”

  “We rescued the vic and confirmed this case is connected to Cam’s sister’s disappearance. But we haven’t found her and the suspect’s still at large.”