Active Duty: Gay Military Erotic Romance (8 page)

Then he levered himself up on his elbows and began to fuck me. Long, slow strokes at first, the way he’d been stimulating my prostate. Then the passion overtook him and he began slamming into me.

He pulled back. “I want to see your face. Turn over.”

My ass was cold and wet and empty. I flipped over onto my back and looked up at Lucas’s handsome face. A droplet of sweat dripped down from his forehead, and his blue eyes were dark and glazed with lust. He pulled my legs up and rested them on his shoulders, and then positioned his dick for another assault.

If being fucked into the pillow by Lucas was awesome, it was a whole other level of amazing to look into his eyes as he drove his dick into my ass. With one hand he reached down and grabbed my dick and began to jerk me in time with his thrusts.

This time we were both making those very un-Marine-like whimpers, both of us gasping and whimpering and staring as our dicks erupted almost simultaneously. Lucas pulled out of me, let my legs down and then sprawled on the bed beside me.

I wanted another glass of champagne, but I was feeling too lazy to get up and get one, and looking at Lucas I could tell he felt the same way. I closed my eyes, just for a moment—and when I opened them again nearly two hours had passed, my stomach was grumbling and I had to pee.

I crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Lucas, and stumbled to the bathroom. I stood over the toilet and aimed my stream, and a moment later Lucas was beside me, doing the same thing. It was such an intimate moment, pissing together—but just one more bit of intimacy after all that had happened so far that evening.

“I’d kill for a burger,” Lucas said, after he shook the last drops of urine from his dick.

I did the same, and flushed. “I can’t offer you a burger, but I make a mean plate of pasta,” I said.

“Bring it on.”

I grabbed a bathrobe and went out to the kitchen. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” he called as I began preparing the food.

My grandmother on my mother’s side was Italian, and from her I learned the secret to making Sunday gravy—a slow-simmered tomato sauce with mushrooms, garlic and bite-sized meatballs. Once a month or so I spent a weekend afternoon making up a batch and then freezing it in containers.

I began boiling the water for some handmade spiral pasta that I bought at the local market, and set a frozen lump of sauce on low heat. By the time I had everything going, Lucas appeared wrapped in a big white towel. “Smells good,” he said.

“Keep an eye on everything while I clean up,” I said.

I hurried through a shower, slipped my bathrobe back on, and by the time I got back to the kitchen the pasta was al dente and the sauce warmed through. Lucas sat at the table and I drained the pasta then ladled it out to two flat bowls, covered with sauce and meatballs. Then I grated some fresh Parmesan cheese and brought the plates to the table.

“This night is getting better and better,” Lucas said.

We ate the pasta, making the kind of small talk you do on
what was essentially a first date—where we’d grown up, gone to school and so on.

Lucas finished the last bit of pasta in his bowl, wiped his lips, and said, “Amazing sex, delicious meal. I guess I should get out now before something goes wrong.”

“What about dessert?” I pouted.

“You have something?”

I stood up before him and slipped my robe off. My dick sprang forward. “How’s this?”

“Looks like more than a mouthful,” he said. He licked his lips and leaned down to take me in his mouth.

The angle was awkward, though, so we went back to the bedroom. This time I pulled back the covers and lay down on my cool white sheets, resting my head on the pillows. Lucas lost the towel and climbed up on the bed, kneeling before me and taking my dick in his mouth. He sucked for a minute or two until I said, “Turn around.”

He lay down next to me, his head by my dick and my head at his dick, and we began sucking each other. It took us both a while to come—it was the third time that night after all—and we got to practice all the techniques we knew on each other. He came first, and I swallowed what he had and then he kept sucking me until I came. Then he squirmed around so we were facing each other once again.

“So, was it worth the wait?” I asked lazily, looking at him.

“Don’t ask, and I won’t tell,” he said.

I elbowed him.

“Baby, you have no idea,” he said. “But I’m telling you one thing. You are mine and I am yours and nothing, no act of Congress or presidential decree, is going to change that.”

SO, THEN

Emily Moreton

S
o.” Mike waited for Danny to settle back in the bed, then curled into him, thigh against Danny’s damaged leg, where the warmth would soak into him. Danny made a small, contented noise and pulled the dark green covers tighter over their shoulders. One arm stayed around Mike, holding him in place.

In Mike’s opinion, post-sex cuddling was one of the best things about being on land. Navy bunks really weren’t made for two people, and anyway, it was one thing to fuck around with a shipmate. Flaunting it in front of a ship full of people who’d left their own partners behind always felt sort of cruel.

“So what?” Danny asked.

Mike pushed aside his sleepy fuzziness, his drifting thoughts about his shipmates and the warm closeness of his oldest friend, now sort-of boyfriend, trying to remember what he’d intended to say.

“You know we’re only shipping out for three weeks this time?”

Danny stiffened slightly under him, probably at the reminder that this was their last night together. Considering they hadn’t seen each other in two years, a week had been more than enough time to feel like this was how things always were. Which didn’t make a lot of sense, even in Mike’s head, but was true nevertheless. Leaving Danny this time was going to be easily as unpleasant as leaving him right after college to go into the Navy.

“Yeah,” Danny said softly.

Mike swallowed the urge to say something about leaving. It would either come out maudlin or overly cheerful, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Also, it really was only three weeks, and he was determined not to let himself get stupid over it. “So, we’ll be back a couple of days before Pride. And I thought maybe we could go watch the parade. Hit a couple of bars after.”

Danny tensed even more; so much so that Mike was half-grateful for the excuse when Danny nudged him away and sat up. Danny was frowning, which looked really weird under his sex-mussed blond hair. Not that Mike’s position, looking up at Danny from on his back, really helped.

“You really think no one else from your ship will be there?” Danny’s voice clearly implied that Mike was a naïve fool, which was not exactly Mike’s favorite iteration of Danny’s personality.

“Nooo.” Mike drew the word out in lieu of rolling his eyes. “I think it’s been okay for me to be gay in the Navy for a good couple of years, and that anyone from my ship who is there won’t care.”

Danny didn’t stop frowning, but his blue eyes were more worried than annoyed, and it melted most of Mike’s faint irritation. Mike rolled over, resting his chin on Danny’s hip. He
could just about see Danny’s face from that position, though it felt like he was straining his eyeballs looking up. “It’s fine,” he said firmly. “I’ve got good friends out there, I’m safe. I mean, I’m not planning on hitting on my CO anytime soon, but that’s mostly because he’s married and old enough to be my dad.”

“He kind of makes it work,” Danny said thoughtfully. Mike couldn’t really argue with that—the colonel pretty much epitomized silver fox in a way that had featured in more than one of Mike’s fantasies.

“You hit on him, then.”

Danny laughed softly, his stomach twitching with it, and Mike smiled into Danny’s skin. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know,” he said.

“You’re in the Navy; it’s not exactly the safest profession ever.” Danny petted Mike’s hair, which never failed to make Mike feel like purring.

“You don’t have to worry about me being gay in the Navy,” he amended. “I want you to meet some of the guys. They want to meet you, too.”

“You talk about me to them?” Danny asked, more surprised than Mike would have expected.

Mike tipped his head up, dislodging Danny’s hand down to the back of his neck. “Of course. Tell them how brilliant you are, tell them how gorgeous you are, tell them they should all be jealous of how good you are in bed…”

Danny flushed bright red, which was adorable and weird and made Mike want to kiss him. Danny really was brilliant and gorgeous and amazing in bed, and Mike could kiss him if he wanted to. He pushed himself up to his knees and leaned in, cupping the back of Danny’s neck.

“You trying to distract me?” Danny asked, mouth quirking up in a smile.

Mike stroked Danny’s good thigh, not quite soft enough to tickle as he rubbed the hairs the wrong way. “Is it working?”

Danny’s breath caught when Mike brushed fingers over his half-hard cock. “Not so far.”

“Ouch! I’m naked and feeling you up and you’re, what, thinking about your dry cleaning?” Mike curled his hand loosely over Danny.

“I’m an academic, I can’t afford dry cleaning. But, now that you mention it, you do need to pick up your uniform.” Danny stared hard at Mike, obviously trying to look unaffected. It didn’t quite work, given how his face flushed slightly when Mike cupped his palm over the head of Danny’s cock. “I don’t want you to forget and have to head out naked.”

Mike ducked his head, laughing against Danny’s neck. Being back with Danny was great; there were years of history between them that he couldn’t replicate with his closest friends on his ship. “I missed you.”

“I—” Mike felt Danny draw in a deep breath, but he didn’t say anything, just kissed Mike’s ear, then down his jaw. Mike lifted his head to meet Danny’s mouth on his, one hand moving to Danny’s shoulder for balance. Danny slipped his tongue into Mike’s mouth, and Mike tightened his hold on Danny.

“Fuck,” Danny said against his mouth. Right, Mike still had one hand on Danny’s dick, now hot and hard in his hand. “You gonna do something there, or what?”

Mike loosened his grip so he could straddle Danny’s thigh, then stroked slowly up the length of him. Danny made a small, pleased sound and kissed Mike again, a hand returning to the back of his neck to hold him close. Mike kissed him back, palming the head of his cock on every stroke. He couldn’t stop himself grinning at the little noises Danny made, the way his hips twitched slightly, pushing him into Mike’s hand.

Danny wasn’t going to last, Mike knew—he couldn’t always get it up for a second time in one night, but when he did, he never lasted. Mike leaned in, pushing Danny back into the headboard, looming over him just a little, just enough to make Danny’s breath catch again as he came.

Mike eased him through it, kissing the corner of his mouth and the edge of his cheek until Danny fumbled to knock his hand away.

“You were saying?” Mike asked.

Danny rolled his head against the wall till he and Mike made eye contact. Danny’s hair was a mess, his eyes heavy and his face flushed. “Fuck if I know.”

Mike grinned, rocking a little against Danny’s thigh, caught between wanting that, and wanting to jerk himself off, his hand wet with Danny’s come. Danny caught his hips, pulling him in till his dick was tight against Danny, and okay, maybe Mike did know what he wanted after all.

“Just like that,” Danny said, low in his ear. “That’s it, just like that, you’re so hot.”

Speaking of not really lasting long the second time around—it took Mike less than three minutes to come all over Danny’s skin. Best three minutes he’d had since the last time, though.

And he wanted to, so he did, putting an end to any kind of conversation not including the words
yes, more,
or
right there, fuck, don’t stop.

“So,” Freddie said, when Mike got back to the tiny cabin they shared with two other guys. Freddie’s stuff, to Mike’s complete lack of surprise, was already put neatly away, and Freddie himself was back in uniform, sprawled on the top bunk, one leg dangling in Mike’s face. The guy really was too tall to be in the Navy, which was all about tiny spaces. “He’s the guy.”

Mike automatically checked for James and Luke, even though their stuff was conspicuously missing. Not that either man would care if they walked in on Mike and Freddie talking about guys, but they kept the chat about women to a minimum, and Mike always felt he owed them the same courtesy.

“Yeah, he’s—hang on, you’re here, how did you even see us?”

Freddie raised one eyebrow, which he said made him look mysterious and Mike thought made him look like a loon. “I see everything.”

“Not through three decks and more walls than I can be bothered to count.”

“Saw you getting out of a cab when I was on deck,” Freddie admitted. “He’s cute. Always figured he’d have glasses.”

“Why?” Mike rolled up his now empty duffle and closed his locker. They had another two hours before they were officially back on duty and he hadn’t slept much the night before. He dropped onto the bunk below Freddie’s and contemplated a nap.

“You talk about him studying all the time; I got a mental image.”