Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
And he stayed strong through a long, restless night where even the A/C couldn’t seem to cut through his heated skin. At a meeting after breakfast, the LT announced that the mission would be a go shortly after dusk, the brass having decided that darkness would be the best cover. They’d head out in the Mark V in the late afternoon to be in position. The rest of the day was spent in preparation—testing out night-vision goggles, getting equipment and supplies set, and some mandatory downtime in the early afternoon since no one was expected to sleep that night.
“Doubt I’ll sleep,” Bacon told him on the walk to the barracks. “But remember to stay in your room until I come for you.”
“Too keyed up?” Spencer resisted the urge to offer to help him with all that adrenaline. He had a room with a door and a bed, which was all they’d need...
Nope. Can’t go there.
Bacon grinned like he knew the direction of Spencer’s thoughts. “Yeah. Always. Curly will probably sack out, though—he can sleep through anything. Including maybe—”
“No.” Spencer cut him off before he could make a tempting offer they’d both regret. He swore he could still smell the generic soap on Bacon’s skin, could feel the kiss they’d come so close to sharing. Even as his breath sped up, his resolve hardened. He knew what he had to do here. “I know you don’t think much of journalists, but I don’t sleep around on the job, and I’m for sure not fucking moments before we’ve got to leave.”
“Fine.” Bacon gave an exaggerated sigh.
“What brought this on anyway?” Spencer had to know. “Last night and again just now? You regularly make out with people you don’t like or what?”
Bacon shrugged. “I get...impulsive sometimes. I’ve reined it in in recent years, but sometimes, I just get all restless and itchy. You make me damn itchy. And yeah, I know it’s all kinds of stupid and I’ll undoubtedly hate myself afterward but I still want it. Want you.”
“I’m not doing anything where we’re going to hate ourselves after.” Spencer paused at the door to his room.
“You’re a good guy, Spencer. Maybe too good. You could have made dropping the questions about Strauss conditional on me blowing you or—”
“Never.”
“I get it now. I really do. And weirdly, that only makes me want to do it more.” He stepped toward Spencer, close enough that Spencer could feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that all he’d need to do was lean...
No.
“Gratitude and impulse control are a bad combo.” Spencer’s voice was shakier than he liked. Then, because he only trusted himself so far, he opened his door, prepared to slip inside. “Get me when it’s go time. Not before.”
Bacon laughed knowingly. “You’re going to regret turning me down.”
“I know.” Spencer wasn’t even going to pretend otherwise as he gently shut the door in Bacon’s handsome face. The problem wasn’t only that he wanted to fuck Bacon. He wanted to talk more, wanted to know how his nose got broken, wanted to hear more about Jamie and his past, wanted to know more about these rogue impulses he got. In short, he wanted to know Bacon, and that was all kinds of trouble.
* * *
Bacon was used to friends and acquaintances going along with his impulses. Not that he was conceited, but he didn’t get turned down often, and whether it was an impromptu camping trip or a dare to eat weird food or semi-public fucking, he could usually count on his crew going along with him. Hell, more than one friend-with-benefits had said that was why they kept him around—they liked how spontaneous and creative he could get, liked it when he let go of his serious side.
But Spencer didn’t. Didn’t want risky kisses and an easy way past the tension between them. Didn’t want to follow Bacon’s impulses, and in fact, made Bacon feel damn foolish for making the come-on. Twice. Twice he’d blatantly offered and twice Spencer had turned him down. Well, fine. He wouldn’t be getting a third try, and when he knocked on Spencer’s door, it was with new resolve to stop trying to goad Spencer into fucking.
Spencer was right that it wouldn’t solve anything, and things were complicated enough. Plus, Bacon knew he shouldn’t even be contemplating screwing around. Which was honestly probably part of the appeal, but if Spencer could be adult, then so could he.
“We’ve got a complicated insertion ahead of us,” he explained as they walked out of the building. Explaining what was coming was so much easier than dwelling on thoughts of what Spencer had gotten up to during their downtime. Had he jerked off?
Stop it. Listening to his own order, he continued his report for Spencer. “Because of the distance we need to cover, we’re taking a chopper out to where the boat is already waiting for us, then we’ll be leaving from an undisclosed location—LT says no guessing for you in your article—in the boat, then doing the mission. Boat crew is already there. They did their insertion earlier in the day, probably using a ship or helicopter or both to get them and the Mark V in position.”