The few steps it took Brenden to carry Liam to the bed swamped him in exquisite agony. It took everything he had to hold off the orgasm. Replete exhaustion filled him. The ecstasy and agony had been worth it.
He drank the entire bottle of water and saved the second one for when the other man woke. Everything—from his tousled hair, to his smooshed face lying right cheek down against the bedspread, to the barely-there snore—tugged at Brenden’s heart. So far beyond a casual lay.
And I didn’t think it would be…. Somewhere inside, he’d acknowledged it would be that way when he’d asked for this specific scenario—capturing a moment he’d denied himself for so long.
“Hey.” Liam’s voice slurred with drowsy pleasure, sounding almost drunk.
“Hey.” Brenden smiled. “Welcome back.”
“If this is a dream or that was…don’t wake me.” Liam shifted to cross his arms and pillow his head against them.
“Not a dream…but sleep if you need it.” Energy sizzled through him. Sex served as a release—he understood the physical and mental effects. God knew, he’d kept his horniness in check till they made it to the room, but touching Liam threatened every part of his self-control, shredding it like tissue paper with a grenade.
“Don’t wanna.” The almost petulant tone in his lover’s—his lover’s—voice sent a thrill racing up Brenden’s spine. “Want this to last.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Nowhere else he wanted to be. The luxury to lay there and watch him drift in and out of sleep satisfied some deeply hidden emotional need.
“But you will.” Liam lifted his head, his sleepy gaze sharpening. “You’re going back out there—over there—somewhere. Aren’t you?”
Brenden sighed, girding for a battle—if one happened. He’d hoped they would have longer to soak in the afterglow before crossing that rough and tumble bridge. “Yeah. Like I said, I have a couple of weeks before I report for duty.”
With effort, Liam pushed upward. His gaze swept Brenden from head to toe and he grinned. “Damn—”
“You like?” He wasn’t above using sex to distract him, particularly when Liam wore that smile.
“You are solid.” He ran his palm over Brenden’s chest, down to his abdominals and dipping lower to stroke his thighs. The touch aroused, but it also soothed. “And I figured that, but—holy crap. I’ve only seen sculptures with this kind of definition. In fact—” All traces of tiredness fled Liam’s expression. He traced his finger along the well-defined muscles and Brenden’s dick twitched in response. “I saw one at an exhibit in Boston just a few weeks ago. Don’t remember the artist, but….”
To Brenden’s amusement, Liam slid off the bed. He moved slowly and found his pants. Then he pulled out a phone and flipped through the screens. “Check this out. “ He held it out to Brenden. “I need to go clean up.” He walked into the bathroom and the water turned on.
Brenden studied the picture. “I know this guy.”
“Seriously?” Liam’s voice drifted out from the bathroom.
“Oh yeah. He’s in my old unit. He knows this artist, too.” He thought the piece might be titled ‘My Marine’ or ‘Her Marine.’ The guys razzed Brody about it, but several were envious. The work provoked an emotional response though, a visceral admiration, competitiveness, and respect, much like the man.
“He’s straight, right?” Liam walked back toward the bed, wiping his hands on a towel. Like Brenden, he’d stripped off the rest of his clothes.
“Yes, he’s straight.” More entertained than jealous at Liam’s pained sigh, he winked. “All the good ones are.”
“No.” The response was a hell of a lot more fervent than expected. “They aren’t.” Liam stretched out alongside him. “I would have agreed but then some asshole rocked my world and turned it upside down by telling me he’s gay.”
“What a jerk.” Brenden laughed.
“I agree. Holding himself aloof all those years and for good reason. Trust me, after hitting that, I think I’m spoiled.”
“Liam….”
“Eh.” His friend cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. “No regrets, no apologies, no words of understanding. I am a grown man. I know you and I respect you, so if that means you’re heading back out after this, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. I won’t be that flaming queer crying all over you.” The barest hitch in his voice gave a lie to that statement.