by LAURA HARNER
“Hey, Cliff, welcome back,” Cass said. “I wasn’t sure we’d be seeing you again so soon. Glad you could get away.”
The two men joined him at the small table. Cass leaned forward and picked up a map of downtown San Diego. Ty glanced at it, then turned his bright blue gaze on Cliff.
“You look like shit, jarhead.”
“You look fat and happy, squid.”
They grinned at each other, but Cass shook his head. “I didn’t think Marines could be in the SEALs.”
“They can’t,” Ty and Cliff said together.
Ty leaned back and took up the tale. “Cliff joined the Corps first, then had to get out when he discovered exactly that.”
“Ty never lets me forget it.”
“Hell, man, you never forget it. I see you went back to the high and tight,” Ty teased, referring to his recent haircut.
“Not exactly.” He rubbed a hand over his brush cut and was hit with a sudden memory of Ryan’s fingers twisted into his hair… “I didn’t go as short as usual. And to be honest, I don’t actually know what else to ask for at the barber shop,” he admitted.
Cass pressed open the map and peered at the scale illustration of downtown San Diego. His finger traced the path from Petco Park to the building that housed Hard Labour, then over the water to the base.
“San Diego’s a great city. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“Hah…” Cliff pushed back his chair before standing and walking to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee. He held the carafe in the air. “Anyone else?”
Receiving two head shakes, he returned the pot to the maker then leaned his hips on the counter and blew out a breath. “That’s the question of the day…isn’t it? I don’t suppose Whit’s job is still available?” he said, half-joking. “Not that I know anything about horses, not like he did—but I can learn. And god knows I can shovel shit…”
Ty’s palm landed on the table with a slap, but Cass merely covered his lover’s hand and gave a squeeze.
“Huh…well, I admit, you are pretty good at that. But, most of my hands have a bit more experience in ranch life beyond mucking stalls.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Cliff, because if you need a job or a place to stay—then this is it. We told you when you called yesterday that you’re always welcome here, and we meant it. I just always pictured you as more of a beach person. Lord knows we have all the sand you could ever want for running, but don’t you swim just about every day? We don’t even have a pool for laps.”
“Triathlons,” Ty fake-coughed.
As a lifelong resident of San Diego—except for the short periods when he’d been stationed elsewhere, there were certain things he’d miss about the Southern California community if he left. But there were complications now, particularly given what happened at Hard Labour and his forced retirement.
“I thought about settling in San Diego, sure. To be honest, I have no real ties there. My family’s in Santa Barbara, and we’re not close. I sold my house before my last deployment, because I’d planned to buy a condo when I returned. Now I’m in an apartment complex and with all the twenty-somethings running around half-dressed—not that I mind looking—but damn, it makes me feel older by the day.
“I’m not rich, but I’m not strapped for cash either. Obviously I don’t have a job—not even any real industry that I’m tied to. Basically, this is a time in my life for me to make big changes without disrupting anything.”
His mind shied away from last Tuesday morning, when he’d had a chance at making a big change. Telling himself he was only going for a run, he’d driven past SEAL Beach and seen Rhino’s Jeep in the lot. Not trusting he’d be able to say no again to Ryan, Cliff had kept driving until he’d stopped for breakfast near Carpenteria. Surprising everyone—including himself—he’d actually stopped in to see his parents. It had been a good reunion, but had also confirmed they had little in common once the first thirty minutes of conversation was finished.
He’d been ignoring the missed call notifications on his phone ever since.
Ty wrestled his hand free from Cass and flipped through the disorganized stack on the table.
“Newspapers, catalogs, maps, real estate magazines…and your trusty legal pad. You really that clueless?”
“Kiss my ass, Cookie—I’m looking at options.”
“What about Rhino? What’s he say?”
Unwilling to give Ty the opening he was digging for, Cliff shook his head. “Rhino’s taking his orders to Six—I saw him on the schedule for a re-enlistment physical when I was finishing my retirement drill. My shit’s all done with the Navy—this is his time to shine.”
What about Rhino? The question had rattled around inside his head for the past week—and as much as he wished there was such a thing as happily ever after, that kind of shit didn’t happen. Half the gay men he knew had gay-for-you fantasies. There was just something sexy about a straight guy coming to play on your equipment, but he’d been frustratingly unable to relegate what happened between him and Ry to a simple X-rated one-off between friends. He never should have agreed to the BJ, because from that moment on, nothing in Cliff’s brain had worked right. He’d been unable to think of a single sexual encounter that had been better. Hell—that had even been close.
How could he have done something so impossible as falling in love with his straight best friend? The sex between them had been off the charts, but that wasn’t even what had done it for Cliff. It had been that moment of absolute certainty that his world was perfectly in order when he’d awakened with Ryan in his bed. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall for the if-you-love-him-let-him-go romantic tripe—that wasn’t what this was about.
Cliff had fucked up at the end of his career—cut it short by a couple of years, but he had no regrets about what he’d accomplished in twenty-two total years of service. A minor aw-shit at the end couldn’t take any of that away.
But Rhino? He was something special in the field and this was an opportunity he’d earned.
A downside of having a best friend was sometimes they knew what you wanted better than you did yourself. Cliff knew. Ryan had always wanted these orders to Six—always. They might be coming late in his career, but Ryan deserved this opportunity and Cliff would do everything he could—including ripping out his own heart—to make sure Ryan got a chance at his dream.
“Look, I appreciate everything you two have done for me. And you’re right. I’m probably not cut out to be a cowboy, Cass. I’m not as hopeless as you’re trying to make me out to be,” he said with a smile aimed at Ty.
Gesturing at the pile on the table, he said, “There really are a lot of possibilities, including a job offer. I just want to take a few days to sort things out.”
Sounds in the desert carried. Cliff had barely been aware of the comforting background noise he’d come to associate with ranch life at the WSR: the occasional sound of men shouting to each other, a lazy drone of a tractor in the distance, the whinny of a horse. Now another sound entered his consciousness. A sound as familiar as that of his own vehicle. Rhino’s Jeep. His gaze locked with Ty’s.
“You sonofabitch. You called him.”
Ty’s mouth curved up on one side in a lazy half-smile. “Ya think?”
Cliff straightened and set his coffee on the counter with a thunk.
“Hold on there, Cliff,” Cass said. “Goddamn it, Ty, quit yanking his chain. Tyler didn’t call anybody. Ryan called late last night to confirm you arrived safely. We assumed you told him you were coming until—”
“Until this morning when stupid shit started pouring out of your mouth,” Ty finished.
“That’s our cue to leave. Come on, Ty…” Cass stood, keeping a tight grip on his lover’s hand.
Moving slowly, Ty rose, glanced down at the littered surface of the table once again, his lip curled into a snarl.
“There are two things in life I truly hate,” he said as the sound of the Jeep pulling up outside carried in throu
gh the windows. “One, is when someone tries to decide what’s best for me and pushes his solution at me, expecting I’ll fall in line with the plan.” His gaze flicked to Cass for a moment, and Cliff caught the ghost of a smile that flitted across the tall cowboy’s face. There was obviously a story there…
“The other thing I can’t stand is a coward. You think you can manage to tell Ryan how you feel and live with the consequences? The only easy day was yesterday, Cliff. Hooyah?”
Without waiting for a response, Ty turned and tugged Cass’s hand. Cliff followed the two men as they exited through the front door.
“Hey, Rhino. Good to see you,” Cass said as he and Ty stopped long enough to shake Ryan’s hand after he climbed from the Jeep.
“Good to be here,” he replied. Then with the deliberate movements of a sharpshooter, Ryan shifted his aim to look directly at Cliff. For a long moment, nothing penetrated Cliff’s consciousness except the heat and determination contained in that gaze. It was as if Ryan could see straight through to his soul. And he probably could. Ryan knew him better than anyone. Knew exactly what Cliff had been trying to do. Knew exactly how Cliff felt about him. Maybe even already knew what Cliff was going to do with his future.
A shiver raced up his spine at the lazy curve of Ryan’s lips.
“Hooyah,” Cliff murmured.
*
For all their talk that they knew each other, Ryan hadn’t been sure until this minute how Cliff would react to his showing up, unannounced. As if he’d given him a choice.
This morning Cliff looked good enough to eat—something he planned on doing shortly—with his hair back in a familiar brush cut, his pale steel eyes, the dark shadow of a beard covering his hard jaw.
Cliff stepped inside, and Ry followed right on his heels. He paused at the table, eyeing the stacks of maps and papers.
“We’re going to talk about this later.”
“Don’t you think we should talk first?”
“Why? We both know I’m not going anywhere. Except after you. Get in the bedroom and get undressed.”
“I’m not your sub, Ryan.” Nevertheless he followed Ry’s directions until he stood in front of the bed, shirt off, his running shorts pooled around his ankles before he seemed to realize what he was doing. Then he froze, except for a telltale flicker of his tongue to moisten his lips.
“Maybe not,” Ryan said with a careless shrug. “Maybe you will be someday. Or just sometimes. Who cares? If we decide that’s a route we want to explore, we will.”
“So you’re saying you’d be here even if I don’t let you dominate me?”
Ryan pushed hard and Cliff fell backward onto the mattress. Without waiting to be invited, Ryan quickly stripped then scrambled up to straddled Cliff’s hips.
“I’m saying I plan to do whatever I need to until we get it through your thick head that whatever the next step we take, it’s going to be together.”
“When do you leave?”
Ryan popped him on the forehead with the palm of his hand. “Pay attention, Cliff. I’m. Not. Leaving.”
“But your orders…”
“Are to the Fleet Reserve.”
“But you were on the physical list…”
“For a retirement physical, asshole. Dammit, Cliff…what’s it going to take? Have I ever once made you a promise I didn’t keep? Have I shown myself to be untrustworthy? What can I say to make you understand this is it for me… I told you, I’m not leaving you.”
Cliff sucked in his breath in a sharp gasp. The moment stretched as Ryan stared into Cliff’s eyes. Then he realized exactly what Cliff needed to hear—and he was ready to say it. He reached for Cliff’s hands and threaded their fingers together, then slowly raised Cliff’s arms until the backs of his hands pressed against the mattress. He leaned into the grip and squeezed tight.
“I love you, Cliff. As my friend. As my lover. As my forever.”
Cliff’s lips parted slightly, as if on a question, but Ryan captured them with his mouth instead, wanting to taste the answer on a kiss. Cliff’s mouth opened, their tongues tangled in a sweet heat, and Ryan fell into the kiss.
The moan that spilled from Cliff’s throat made Ryan want to sink into him right then, without another word, to join together until everything else except the two of them ceased to exist.
For just a moment, Cliff’s muscles went lax beneath him, then executing a perfect kip up, he went from supine to upright, flipping Ryan on his back, effectively reversing their positions.
“It’s easy to say that when you’re on top, baby.” Cliff’s voice already growly, seemed to come from somewhere near his toes and the emphasis on Ryan’s favorite endearment wasn’t quite happy.
“Cliff?”
“You don’t get it, Ryan. It doesn’t matter if you suddenly just decided you’re bisexual—the minute we’re together, people are going to think you’re gay. Are you really ready for that? And yeah, it might have been hot as hell when you fucked me, but, Rhino…” Cliff took a deep breath, making a visible effort to calm himself.
“Honey,” Cliff said, as if trying it out, and the word gave Ryan hope. “It’s not the same kind of relationship you’re used to. Yeah, I’m going to sound sexist here, or gay-centric, or some damned term…but the relationships aren’t the same.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Ryan asked.
“No, I don’t think you do. Look, when you walk into a restaurant with a woman, people make certain assumptions—”
“Cliff—we’ve been walking into restaurants together for years. Don’t you think people have made assumptions?”
“Sure, but they’ve never been true before, so they didn’t bother either of us. Now when the bigots make comments, it’s going to hurt, or piss one of us off—or both. It’s not just in public, Ry. It’s here, between us. You don’t like my example of a woman on a date…but think about it. The roles are pretty well defined for you, sexually.”
“What the—”
“I mean I’m not a woman…and yeah, I know how that sounds, but bear with me. I don’t mean that women are lesser, but if you were taking one home for the night, you’d expect to get lucky, but I bet you’ve never wondered if you were going to take it up the ass…”
“Why do you keep trying to bring it down to only sex? I told you before if all we ever do is what we’ve already tried, I’m good with that.”
It was hard to think with Cliff straddling Ryan’s hips, dragging their bare, leaking cocks together. Ryan’s breath left him on a whoosh as his heart thundered erratically. “Yeah, you said you’re good with that…but what if I’m not? What if I want you right where you are right now? Under me? All that gorgeous tanned skin spread out like my own personal buffet?”
Cliff’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he stared down at Ryan as if he was the best meal he’d never tasted—yet. A line from a childhood book popped into his head…the better to eat you… At this moment, Cliff looked like Ryan’s own personal big bad, and he was fucking hungry.
“What if I want more…want to bury my face between your cheeks and rim you until you lose your mind? What if I want to stick my cock in deep and pound until my balls slap against your ass? What if I want to fuck you through this mattress?
“Because oh, yeah, Ryan, baby…if we do this…this whole couple thing…you can make bank on it. That’s going to happen.
Ryan’s ass clenched, setting off a series of tremors that raced through him at Cliff’s words. They left him with only one possible response—
“Yes, please…”
Chapter Thirteen
Dropping his newfound insecurity was a lot easier thought about than actually done. Never one to suffer from lack of confidence, this situation with Ryan had Cliff more off-balance than he’d ever been in his life. For the first time he was seriously thinking about a long-term commitment and he was unsure if a relationship beyond the bedroom would have any lasting power once it hit the light of day.
Not that Cliff needed—or expected—any sort of PDA. It was hard to imagine himself ever walking down a street holding anyone’s hand—but Ryan’s? Just the idea had him wanting to shake his head. Ryan as a best friend meant someone he spent three or four nights a week hanging out with. Watching television, playing softball, going to ball games, you name it, they were usually doing it together. If this…relationship…was going to evolve, it had to go beyond fuck buddy status.
Ryan had said he loved him…and god knew he loved him back…but now Cliff knew a fear of losing what had barely just started.
Yes, please…
Cliff studied Ryan’s face. Heavy lids couldn’t disguise the gold flecks sparking in his hazel eyes, and Ryan’s tongue slid over his sexy full lower lip. Ryan’s face was nearly as familiar as his own, maybe more so. Because Cliff wasn’t exactly the sort to stand around looking at himself in the mirror. How many hours had they sat across from each other, next to each other? He’d even had Ryan under him a time or two during pick-up football games on the base. But nothing could ever have prepared him for this change in their relationship.
“Please, Cliff,” he repeated. “Show me…”
Unable to resist the plea, Cliff lunged forward to take the lips he’d been obsessed with since the moment he’d first tasted them. As soon as Ryan opened for him, Cliff shoved his tongue inside, tangling it with Ryan’s in a kiss that was wet and hard and dirty.
Ryan gasped then pressed into the assault, his big eyes blinked rapidly then drifted closed. Smiling into the kiss, Cliff allowed himself one final thought about just how…odd it was to be kissing Ryan Matthews. A fierce possessiveness raced through him and then his only thought was how to make this good for Ryan. So good that he never looked at another—man or woman—again.
Slowly, Cliff lowered himself, stretching out until his body aligned with Ryan’s, their hard lengths pressed together. As good as it would have felt to stay right there, chest to chest, thigh against thigh, cocks nestled together, Cliff continued a slow slide down his lover’s body. Ryan’s moans spurred him on as Cliff nipped and licked his way over the tight six-pack, following the dark blond trail until he found the treasure he sought.