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)
“Fuck, Spencer, I...” Del’s pupils were wide, and he bit his lip as his body shuddered.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. I feel it too. Give me everything you can. I won’t let you down. His usually practical heart was making reckless promises he was sure were all over his face. I need you even more than I want you. The thought should have sent fear sprinting through his veins, but all he felt was exhilaration when he saw that same need in Del’s hungry eyes. That they were in this together was all that really mattered.
Del’s rocking picked up speed, their bodies slapping together, kisses getting sloppier. The music surged, and Del let out a broken moan that was far more seductive than any song lyrics. His cock painted a wet stripe against Spencer’s stomach.
“So close. Fuck. Spencer.”
“Gonna come for me? Gonna come on my cock?” Spencer nibbled at his collarbones before pouring some lube into his palm. He worked a hand between their bodies to stroke Del’s cock.
“Fuck... You...don’t...play fair.” Del moaned softly between words. He pushed on Spencer’s shoulders until Spencer fell back onto the bed. He managed to keep stroking Del’s cock as he rode Spencer hard, one foot on the floor.
“Beautiful,” Spencer gasped, because Del really was. Spectacularly fierce and lost in his pleasure at the same time. He could tell Del was close, as was he, but he wanted this moment to drag on, wanted to drown in how good this was.
“Right...there...” Del’s eyes squished shut right as his body clamped down on Spencer’s, and he came all over his fist. And no way could Spencer hold back the tidal wave of his own orgasm. It swamped him until all he could do was hold Del close and moan his name. They collapsed together, a shuddering, sticky mess.
And then Del did the most wondrous thing and laughed. A deep, satisfying belly laugh, the kind Spencer couldn’t help joining in on.
“That sucked. I demand a do-over.” Del was laughing so hard his whole body shook with it on top of Spencer.
“Give me about twenty minutes and a shower, and we’ll see.” Spencer kissed the top of his head. “You’re going to wear me out. Remember, I’m a feeble, elderly—”
“Ha. And luckily, I like you for more than just your dick.”
Spencer couldn’t help the little flutter deep in his chest. “Yeah, I know. You want to make off with my shower and my bed.”
“And your cooking.” Del gave him a soft kiss. “You should invite me back again. Excuse to use up leftovers and all that.”
“Oh I should, should I?” Spencer laughed, but he already knew he’d be doing exactly that. There were all sorts of reasons why this was a bad idea, but the laughing man in his arms seemed to push past every barrier Spencer threw up. “I suppose I could keep you around.”
“Good.” Del rewarded him with another kiss.
Spencer returned it with a passion that had nothing to do with angling for another round of sex. Instead, he let his lips say what he couldn’t give voice to. Stay. Your laughter fills every hole in my soul. Stay in my bed, in my life, in my heart. Stay.
Chapter Eighteen
“Yo, Bacon, you ready to fly?” Rooster bounced on the balls of his feet. He liked jumps more than just about anyone on the team, and Bacon figured he’d make a damn good jumpmaster in a few years.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Still in hot pursuit of the terrorist cell in the South Pacific, they were practicing an insertion over water with a SEAL boat known as a RIB also being deployed with parachutes. The RIB would go first, four parachutes controlling its descent, then four SWCC would follow—the specialized SEAL boat crew would handle setting up the boat so that when the rest of the team jumped in a carefully choreographed sequence, the boat would be ready for them. They would then swim to the RIB and carry out the rest of the practice mission.
Water insertions always made Bacon nervous—he was a strong swimmer, but the potential to get bogged down in the parachute was always a risk with these maneuvers. The roar of the C-130J engines as the plane took off made further talk with Rooster hard. But that was okay. These past few weeks, Bacon hadn’t been the best at small talk with his teammates. In a lot of ways, it felt like he was living from one LA visit to the next and one email or chat session to the next. And he couldn’t tell anyone what he was up to, which felt weird, having this awesome thing in his life and no one to share it with.
Soon, he was going to talk to Spencer about when they could be a little less covert. It had been two months since his first LA visit, and they had a good routine going of emails, texts, and video chats filling the gap between in-person hookups. A steady stream of good stuff that now in the long, antsy wait to jump, he could let himself flash back to.