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it hit his hips, rushing to fill his entire body, and he braced against
the desire to grab Rafe s wrist and make him stop before Sullivan
embarrassed himself.
 I can t believe it doesn t hurt. Rafe edged forward, leaning
into Sullivan s side as he traced it all the way to the back.  What
about sensation? Can you feel me when I do this?
He had to swallow once in order to get his voice to work.
 Yeah.
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 I m not sure growing your hair out will do much to hide it.
The blond s too light.
Rafe wasn t pulling away. Why wasn t he pulling away? What
more was there to see? Or touch? Because even though Rafe s
touch remained as light and respectful as he d started, it weighed
against Sullivan s skin like a brand, a reminder of all the contact
he d been denied for so very long. He didn t know how long he
could tolerate it before he snapped. And the last thing he could
afford at this point was to lose it with Rafe.
Closing his eyes helped. He wouldn t covet what he couldn t
see. But he could still feel, especially when Rafe s fingertips
trailed down the back of his neck, finding the hard knobs at the
base. He should have stopped Rafe when he had the chance,
because now he didn t want it to end at all. The small sound
refusing to be held back could only be called a whimper.
The touch stopped moving. Rafe didn t abandon his skin, but
neither did he continue, both of them locked in a stasis Sullivan
didn t know what to do with.
 What do you want from me?
He recognized right away the difference in Rafe s husky
question. This wasn t the normal confusion about Sullivan s
presence. This could be answered, because it didn t rely on
memories that refused to hold their shape. This only needed an
immediate visceral response, one pulled from instinct, not
knowledge.
 Whatever I can get, he whispered. Though hindsight
unmasked the desire, he knew how impossible it was to have
admitted it before now. Rafe had to be the one to hear it first, or
simultaneously, as the case may be.
 Strike soldiers take what they want, Rafe said, in the same
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reverent tone.
 I m not Strike. He d repeat that until the world ended, if that
was what it would take for Rafe to ultimately believe him.
 I know.
He caught his breath, ready to speak, when Rafe s warmth
shifted along his arm. It grew firmer, spreading the heat, each
degree adding to the inferno already beneath his skin. Then, a
brush along the side of his neck, two-fold, the breath softening the
dry sweep of parted lips, the slight nudge a little higher that could
only be the glance of Rafe s nose.
Gooseflesh hurtled down Sullivan s back and arm, and his
second whimper of the night joined in the pounding echo of his
blood. He turned blindly, needing more, terrified of not getting it.
Rafe s mouth met him halfway.
He couldn t remember the last time he had kissed anyone, let
alone without the taint of discovery hanging over his head. Strike
didn t discourage sex, but even when there was time and
opportunity and the two rarely went hand in hand soldiers were
often too wrapped up in duty to indulge. Release came from
jerking off, though thankfully, not always by yourself. But nobody
spoke of it in the light of day, and nobody certainly encouraged
anything but the most base of performances.
Even when you wanted more.
The caress was awkward and uneven, teeth knocking in their
search for a proper seal. The flick of Rafe s tongue along his
bottom lip made his mouth prickle, and he opened to allow access,
silently pleading with Rafe to take it. Rafe had left his hand at the
base of Sullivan s neck, and now, the grip tightened, digging in,
taking root, demanding purchase as the world dipped around him.
Sullivan hadn t known how desperately he wanted this until he
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had it. In the back of his mind, he wondered how Rafe could
possibly have discovered the desire before he had.
Just when he started to relax, though, Rafe retreated. Sullivan
opened his eyes to see Rafe pull back, his mouth glistening from
the all too brief kiss. His gaze was fixed on Sullivan s lips, like he
measured the time it would take to return to them, but after a deep,
shuddering breath, he straightened even more, dropping his arm to
his side.
 I should get home, he said gently.
Disappointment rankled, but Sullivan nodded.  You ve had a
long day.
 So have you. He smiled. Sullivan s stomach shocked him by
lurching at how beautiful Rafe really was.  Belle s going to kick
you out if you re too tired to do chores.
 Can t have that. Though he wondered if Rafe would take him
back in if he lost his place to stay.  Will I see you tomorrow?
The answer was slow in coming, time enough for Rafe to return
his tinder to a small tray beneath the rows of candles, time enough
for him to stand and wait for Sullivan to join him. They walked to
the front door without another word spoken, and stepped into the
cool moonlight together.
 I come here every night, Rafe said.  If you can t make it into
the restaurant for a meal, we can meet here. If you want.
Sullivan nodded. His throat was too tight to say the words he
wanted to.
The corner of Rafe s mouth lifted.  Eventually, we ll figure out
why it is you re here.
 Eventually.
But for the first time, Sullivan didn t think the why was nearly
as important as the fact that he simply was.
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CHAPTER 7
Rafe almost looked back.
It was tempting. So tempting. And it would take such little
effort. Just a turn of the head, a glance out of the corner of his eye,
and he could watch Sullivan returning to Belle s, a blot breaking
up the sameness he sometimes hated with a passion. Yielding to
the temptation, however, would pave the way for turning around
entirely, and the last thing he needed not wanted, because, God,
did he want Sullivan was to complicate this even more than it
already was.
He hadn t intended the kiss. When he d first realized Sullivan
was in the church, Rafe had hoped he would just go away if Rafe
pretended he wasn t aware of him. He d managed to avoid him all
day, after all. A few more minutes should have been simple. But
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his prayers became disjointed, his thoughts scattering from the
people he refused to forget, to the one he knew he absolutely
should. Absolutes were fragile, though. They refused to bend, and
when reality set in to prove once again that gray was the order of
the day, absolutes broke.
Like Rafe.
Sullivan had been the one to make the first crack. With a
simple bow of his head. Rafe s anger had come on like a flashfire,
and he d lashed out without thinking, years of frustration and hurt
striking at the closest available object. Seeing Sullivan s attrition,
without any prompting from Rafe, had turned the mirror back,
forcing Rafe to see and hear exactly what he was doing.
Apologizing had been the next natural step. He just hadn t
expected the steps that followed.
Now, though, his home loomed in front of him, his bed calling
him to put his day to rest. Somewhere on the outskirts of town,
Sullivan would be reaching Belle s, and he d be doing the same
thing. Would he lie awake and think about what had happened like [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]