Chapter 7
Five days later, Colton is pulled from his unit because he’s being loaned out again.
Another black SUV is in the main parking lot and he’s driven back into the city but they go a completely different route and stop in front of a giant warehouse, the sort of warehouse that’s so large they need golf carts to get around.
“Where are we?”
“We do a lot of training exercises here. There’s Director Fein. He’s waiting for you. Good luck.”
He steps out of the vehicle and the director approaches. “Private Berringer, glad you’re here. We’re conducting a training exercise meant to simulate a boots on the ground military invasion in the tunnels of a large city.”
He tries to pay attention but he can’t help but look around for Graham, desperately hoping to see him. Did Graham ask for him to be here or is this the director’s idea?
That’s when Graham appears. Colton’s heart clenches and his stomach swoops like it’s about to fall into his boots.
Graham is so tall and sturdy. He’s very muscular, waist nipped in and legs long and lean. He’s a beautiful man. And he looks dominant.
It’s always interesting how some people are really easy to distinguish and others aren’t.
Graham just doesn’t spark his radar as submissive.
A lot of submissives do. Most of them, in fact.
And if he can’t figure it out right away, he just about always knows by the end of whatever exercise they’re doing.
He doesn’t know if that would happen with Graham. There’s something so dominant and aggressive or cold about him that makes Colton hard just from seeing him. Was this really the submissive that came on his lap and begged him for his cock?
Graham is far enough away that Colton can’t see how well he looks but from a distance he seems to be in great health.
Five days ago he was a mess, expecting to be out for a week and a half because of his drop, and here he is sauntering toward them like a hot-as-hell alpha male Dominant of the first order.
No one in the world would suspect he’s a submissive. He’s also older than Colton by at least five years. Maybe ten.
Which is probably just as strange to Graham as it is to Colton. Why would he want to submit to someone younger and with less experience? Someone who isn’t as big and couldn’t put him down or hurt him unless Graham allowed it.
If Graham Knox looks like the pinnacle of physical perfection, Colton looks like the guy who’d drive him around an army base and then be promptly and immediately forgotten.
It’s not like Colton has trouble getting dates or anything. He knows he’s a good-looking guy and most anyone with a submissive designation gives him at least a longing look if they’re looking for some stress relief. But he and Graham are not in the same league.
His mind and body have not gotten the memo. Every night he wakes up around two, reaching for Graham. Only one encounter and some part of him is still convinced that Graham is his.
He’s been drinking more to compensate. Which isn’t great. He’d usually go home and have a beer most nights, but now he gets home and has three. His body’s way of trying to numb the longing for the submissive he can’t have.
If he can just give it a few more days, everything will be fine. Back to normal. But it would be helpful if Graham wasn’t standing in front of him.
“Does he know I’m here for him?” Colton demands.
“He shouldn’t be surprised. We don’t keep him around for his pretty face,” the director says.
He’s sent to get kitted out for the exercise and walks away before Graham sees him. It will happen soon enough. What does it mean that the director wants to see how he and Graham work with each other? Is there any chance at all that Graham wants him to be here?
There’s a coordinating officer waiting for him in the lobby who gets him into a helmet and a simulation system he’ll need for the exercise. Which is when Graham walks in.
He doesn’t notice Colton at first. Now Graham is close enough to easily see and Colton’s instant thought is that he wants to fuck the hell out of him. Colton looks away, forces the thought down as far as it will go. That’s just not helpful. Like at all.
“Private Berringer,” Graham says and Colton looks up, forces a smile. He’ll wait to see how Graham plays this and will act accordingly.
“Sir,” he says, like maybe they’re meeting for the very first time. In a lot of ways, they are. The submissive in distress that he met before bears very little resemblance to the man in front of him.
Graham nods. He might be relieved. A blush crawls up his neck and into his cheeks. “You’re going to cover me as we clear out a few blocks.”
“Yes, sir,” he says and is impressed he sounds so calm about it. Colton stands up taller, determined to be even more professional. This isn’t going to be awkward because of him, dammit.
He’s given an earpiece and he can hear the occasional comment from the other soldiers as they head out.
This is not a small exercise. There are at least a hundred men similarly prepared and branching off in different directions to entry points in the building.
How much does something like this cost? How does it all work?
They exit the building and a Humvee follows along behind them, giving them a ten-yard gap. Graham gets Colton’s attention and gestures to the earpiece.
Colton turns his off.
“I just wanted to say thank you for the other day. And I’d appreciate your discretion going forward. My designation is unimportant and won’t be an issue again,” Graham says, voice deep and his Dominant persona firmly in place.
And suddenly it does feel like a persona. This version of Graham he’s talking to isn’t real. It’s a mask. How hard is it for Graham to pretend like this?
“Yes, I signed a lot of forms that threatened horrible things if I spoke about anything I saw or experienced in that building. Which I wouldn’t do anyway,” he adds hastily.
Graham’s jaw clenches. They’re both scanning the surrounding area. “If you’re uncomfortable guarding me, we can get someone else.”
“No. I’m good.” The question is annoying. He knows how to compartmentalize and won’t let their history get in the way. “Are you okay with it?” Colton asks, mainly to throw the question back at him.
Graham doesn’t answer right away. “It isn’t ideal.” He stops in the middle of the street, does his best to loom over Colton. “If you try to dominate me in public, I won’t be responsible for my actions. I told Fein this was a bad idea.”
He wishes he felt anger, but he doesn’t. Maybe it’s regret that’s washing through him? Disappointment?
Hell, it might even be grief. Any notion Colton had that they had shared something intimate and profound is gone.
Fizzled to nothing.
This man doesn’t know him on some fundamental level. That was conjecture on Colton’s part. There was no trust developed there. And he isn’t here because Graham wanted to see him again but couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. Which is admittedly something Colton hoped the whole drive here.
“Yes, sir,” he says finally. He meets Graham’s gaze, lets him see that he’s ready to follow orders and keep it professional. “You’re in charge. I understand.” He raises a hand toward his ear but waits, asking permission.
Graham nods, turns on his own earpiece while Colton does his best to keep his attention on the exercise and their surroundings.
It’s just in time to hear someone say, “This is team Bravo. Heavy engagement at entry point C. Requesting assistance from anyone available.”
Graham is looking at an electronic map on his watch.
“Bravo, this is team Charlie. Moving towards your position from the west now. Over,” Graham says, since they’re right next to the stairs heading down into the fake subway.
Colton puts on his infrared goggles, surprised when Graham doesn’t.
Graham can apparently see in the dark, the lucky bastard, and almost instantly they’re engaging the fictional enemy in a gun battle.
The simulation is impressive and his heart rate and adrenaline respond accordingly.
The danger feels real as they take cover and return fire, taking out the imaginary enemy.
The fight is over in under a minute. Colton checks his weapon and takes a few deep breaths to center himself. Graham is waiting for Colton to say if he’s ready to continue on, gaze unreadable as he studies Colton’s face.
He isn’t even blushing. He doesn’t look at Colton’s mouth. There’s nothing to indicate he’s drawn to Colton at all. It’s bizarre how much control Graham has over himself. It isn’t good for his ego.
Which is irrelevant to the task at hand.
“No one told me there would be a smell,” Colton says. Definitely sewer.
Graham’s lips twitch in amusement but he doesn’t say anything.
They start moving again. It’s oddly uneventful until they hit the platform and drop onto the tracks. He sees nothing behind them and although they should be able to hear the enemy coming and they’ve been fairly easy to kill so far, he can’t help feeling antsy with this being just the two of them.
“Incoming,” Graham murmurs and Colton strains to listen, his ears not picking up anything yet. He turns in a circle, moves closer to Graham to ensure he has his back.
“Yeah, I have visual,” Colton says a few seconds later and drops to the ground to get a steadier shot. Several targets come quickly toward them. They eliminate them and more appear.
“Oh fuck. They wouldn’t be above us, too, would they?”
“Negative,” Graham says after checking. “At least not right now. I’ve got you covered. Keep it up,” he says, and Colton can feel Graham on his left, his presence radiating strength and power.
Warning bells ring in his mind, his designation sending intrusive thoughts, hyperaware of the submissive in a dominant position above him. It’s so stupid and he needs one hundred percent focus on killing these stupid fake people. He exhales, blinks, concentrates on the task at hand.
Colton finally gets them all.