Chapter Eight #2
“Yeah, well, it’s been 6 years for me, too,” Kael said through a groan as Drew breached his ass with a second finger, scissoring them to slowly prepare him to take his cock.
Drew froze for a moment once that registered. “You haven’t been with anyone since me either?”
Kael smiled at him shaking his head. “Apparently, you ruined me for all other men.”
Drew liked that, he liked that a lot. “You are mine, Kael Makani. Now and always.”
“Yeah ipo, I’m yours.” Kael rolled his hips up to meet the thrusts of his fingers and Drew’s restraint broke.
He pulled out his fingers, pressed the head of his cock against the entrance and pressed, loving how Kael spread his legs wider, giving him room to move, and throwing his hands above his head, letting Dale do whatever he wanted with the delicious male specimen laid out before him,
As he worked his cock in, giving Kael time to get used to him, he slid his hands over the impressive v line, eight-pack abs, and massive chest muscles that were all his, and laid out before him like the most decadent of feasts.
“You are so fucking hot,” he whispered.
Kale shot him a grin that had him slamming forward.
They both groaned, and that was all that was said as Drew set a smooth rhythm.
Well, he started smoothly but quickly became erratic as Kael moved against him.
He wanted it to last forever, but true to his earlier words, he was unable to maintain it for long.
He wanted this man to damn much, and he had been without him for too damn long.
He felt the orgasm rise within him, and then he was roaring Kael’s name to the van, loving that his man reached up to pull him against his chest, to love him, cuddle him, and kiss him through the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced.
It was so powerful, Drew thought he might have passed out for a moment because when he became aware of his surroundings once more, he was tucked into the bed, under the blankets, up tight against Kael’s chest.
The storm outside pressed against the glass, rain chasing down in silver streaks, but inside the world had narrowed to warmth and skin and the soft sound of breath against breath.
As they lay in silence, Kael’s hands mapped Drew’s body as if learning it from memory—slow, reverent, possessive.
Drew’s fingers slid along Kael’s arms, tracing the ink of his tattoos, feeling the strength beneath.
Kael exhaled, a sound halfway between relief and hunger, and pulled him close again. The motion was unhurried but full of purpose, the kind of closeness that felt like a vow. The taste of salt and rain lingered between them. Each touch was deliberate—learning, claiming, reassuring.
The camper swayed with the wind, candlelight catching on their skin.
Every movement carried the same quiet intensity as the storm outside—wild but controlled, fierce but never careless.
Their laughter came soft between the kisses, the kind of laughter born from finally finding something worth keeping.
When they moved together again, it wasn’t about power or urgency, it was about knowing.
Kael’s hands steadied him, his voice low in Drew’s ear—words that weren’t quite words, promises threaded through breath and heartbeat.
Drew answered with quiet sounds of his own, gripping, grounding, giving back everything he had been holding for too long.
Outside, thunder rolled closer, the wind rattling the windows like applause. Inside, the rhythm between them built, crested, and finally stilled. The silence that followed was thick with everything they hadn’t said.
Kael rested his forehead against Drew’s shoulder, his breathing rough but even. “I spent years trying to forget the feel of you,” he said quietly. “Turns out it’s impossible.”
Drew’s fingers found the back of his neck, tracing lazy patterns there. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you to remember every bit of us.”
They stayed tangled together, the sound of rain softening around them. When Kael finally lifted his head, his expression held something unguarded—peace, maybe, or the beginning of it.
Outside, the storm began to ease, thunder giving way to the hush of waves. Inside, the two of them stayed close, skin warm, hearts steady, the kind of quiet that comes only when you’ve finally stopped running.
****
The morning broke over the island with soft light and the scent of rain still hanging heavy in the air.
Kael stood at the long worktable in the Black Tide’s briefing room, nursing his second coffee while the rest of his team filtered in.
Drew was beside him, quiet but steady, the kind of calm that came from a night of truth and storms.
They gathered around—their family, their unit.
Niko, Tane, Keanu, and Luca, all waiting to hear what had been shared the night before.
Kael’s voice stayed even, but he let the weight of every word hang in the air.
“Drew told me about the Directorate—how they manipulated him, what they made him do, and what he found out when it was too late. Eighteen months of hell that changed everything.”
Niko leaned forward. “Eighteen months? They held him that long?”
Drew answered quietly. “Not held. Rebuilt. They sold me the illusion that I was fighting for justice while they used me to wipe out their competition.”
Tane shook his head. “That’s messed up, brother. You’re saying they convinced you to use your training as their weapon?”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “And I let them, because I believed them.”
Torch frowned. “And when you figured it out?”
“I burned them,” Drew said simply. “One mission at a time.”
Luca whistled low. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Kael gave him a warning look but couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching. “He’s not the enemy,” he said firmly. “He was surviving. Just like we all did once.”
Drew met his gaze, gratitude flickering behind his eyes.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Keanu glanced around the table. “So, this Directorate—they’re still out there?”
Drew nodded. “Alive and thriving. They don’t stop. Ever.”
Kael looked to his team. “Then neither will we.”
Tane leaned forward. “So, we’re dealing with a global machine. Not just a dirty outfit.”
Drew nodded. “The Directorate isn’t a network—it’s a structure. They’re everywhere and nowhere at once.”
Keanu leaned forward too, elbows on his knees. “And they know what you have been doing?”
“Yeah,” Drew said quietly. “At least they do now as evident by my recent beating. Someone burned me. I had an iron clad background, built by me, and I am not blowing smoke to say I am damn good at that shit. They had me dead to rights.”
Kael looked around the table. His brothers’ faces were hard, thoughtful—but there was no hint of judgment. Just resolve. “You’ve got all of us now,” Kael said. “You won’t be fighting alone anymore.”
Niko gave a short nod. “Wasn’t gonna say otherwise, Surge.”
Kael felt a swell of something in his chest—pride, gratitude, love. They’d accepted Drew without hesitation. My ipo, he thought with a full heart. “You have no idea how much that means.”
Luca, already half-buried in screens, looked up. “Speaking of not fighting alone—Marsh has been in touch. We’ve been running searches through everything from darknet chatter to ghost accounts.”
Keanu snorted. “What the hell are you saying?”
“Nothing a cretin like you could understand, bruh,” Luca shot back with a grin. “But, there is nothing obvious there which is the problem. It’s too clean. No noise, no leaks. The Directorate’s good at covering tracks—but there’s something weird happening online.”
Kael frowned. “Weird, how?”
Luca rotated one of the holo-screens toward them. “Someone’s been searching for us. Individually, the queries look harmless—tracking import licenses of our vans, land deeds, offshore supply shipments—but together? It’s a pattern. Someone’s mapping our footprint.”
Drew leaned in. “Any trace signatures?”
“Yeah,” Luca said, tapping a line of code on the display.
“The user’s handle keeps shifting, but there’s a common marker buried in the encryption—an old ops phrase—nalowale.
Means ‘lost’ or ‘forgotten’ in Hawaiian, but it’s not local.
It’s stylized. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that it is a military-grade tag. ”
Kael exchanged a glance with Drew. The word rang faintly in his mind—something that felt like a warning. “We don’t know who it is?”
Luca shook his head. “Not yet. But whoever it is, they’re getting closer. If they keep probing, we’ll know them before they know us.”
Keanu folded his arms. “We might not have that luxury. This site—beautiful as it is—is a security nightmare. Cliff access on two sides, jungle on the third, waterline open to boats. We need to reinforce the perimeter.”
Niko grinned faintly. “You volunteering for guard duty again, Torch?”
“Damn right,” Keanu said. “If someone’s gonna breach our home, they’re gonna have to walk through fire to do it.”
Kael nodded. “Then we move fast. We double defenses, up surveillance, and reroute comms through Luca’s encrypted network. No more open signals.”
Niko raised a brow. “So... we hunker down until someone decides to come knocking?”
Kael gave a wry smile. “Pretty much.”
Drew looked between them, an amused curve to his mouth. “You all make impending assault sound like a team-building exercise.”
Niko chuckled. “That’s family for you. We roll with adversity a little differently.”
The tension eased, laughter rolling around the table like sunlight breaking through clouds. Kael leaned back, taking in the moment—their strength, their trust, their unspoken acceptance. This was why he’d built Black Tide.
Not for power, not for money. For this.
“All right,” Kael said finally, pushing away from the table. “We’ve got a perimeter to tighten and a day to plan. Down to the garage.”
As they stood, Keanu clapped Drew on the shoulder. “Try to keep your honeymoon short, yeah? Some of us actually sleep near your camper.”
Drew’s grin was quick and wicked. “No promises.”
Kael groaned, half-laughing. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” Drew said, catching his wrist as they started toward the stairs. “But you love me anyway.”
Kael’s response was a quiet, warm laugh as Drew tugged him down the stairs and outside toward their camper. The team’s laughter followed—a sound of home, of family—and for a fleeting moment, Kael let himself believe that peace might last.
He knew he was kidding himself, but in that moment, he just didn’t give a shit.