Walker #2
His eyes flicked to me and then away. “Both.”
“Good, then if you stop pouting like a toddler who was told he couldn’t have a third cookie, I might get some lotion out and give you a massage,” I said, raising a brow.
His eyes didn’t quite flick to mine, but they almost did. “A sexy one?”
I smiled. “Maybe, but first it’s to help you not hurt as much.”
His eyes remained on the wall for several seconds before he grunted. “Fine.”
“You’re such a stubborn child sometimes,” I told him affectionately, leaning forward and planting a kiss on the patch of skin where his shirt had ridden up.
I knew that wasn’t helping my case of making him wait for the sexy part of the massage because his waistline was pretty sensitive.
That too was something I’d discovered recently, just the other day in fact, when I had been kissing my way down his body to give him sloppy head…
he loved it sloppy. The messier the better, as far as he was concerned.
And it wasn’t like I was going to deny him.
“Good,” I said, shoving his shirt up and slapping his stomach hard as I got to my feet.
“Oof!” he grunted, hands going to his stomach as he winced. “I wasn’t ready!”
“You weren’t supposed to be,” I told him as I returned the ointment and retrieved the Arete lotion from the bathroom.
I came back to find that he had shed his shirt, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs.
Clearly he was eager and ready for the massage and wanted nothing in the way.
I wouldn’t complain, as much as I was used to seeing him in various states of undress, it still sent a thrill through me to see him lying there in a thin pair of underwear, his soft dick making an impressive imprint on the front of the fabric.
God, this man’s body was going to be the death of me, and that wasn’t covering his personality; that was a weakness on a whole new level.
“And apparently you haven’t been using this either?” I asked as I held up the bottle, and when he shrugged, I cocked my head. “Just what the fuck have you been using to jerk off?”
He stared at me in confusion before raising his hand and wiggling it back and forth. “I mean—”
I stared at him. “You’ve been jerking off dry? Jesus, Cade. There’s lotion, and they offer condoms and lube here.”
He shrugged. “Just got used to it. Not like there was always stuff like that when we were in the field or at camp.”
I got on the bed. “You were jerking off in tents with us?”
“You weren’t?” he asked, and when I shook my head, he laughed. “All the guys were doin’ it. We just, ya know, tried not to be obvious about it. And if ya woke up and found out someone was doin’ that, ya didn’t.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” I said wryly as I squeezed some of the lotion onto my hand and got to work rubbing my fingers into his leg to get a sense of just how tightly corded the muscles were.
Oh boy, I was going to be here for a while.
“I guess,” he said with a snort. “I mean, gettin’ it all slick is nice for a bit of variety, but it’s not like I need it to enjoy myself.”
“I usually just tried to wait until we were back at base, or I had a quick moment when no one else was around,” I admitted. “I really wasn’t comfortable with someone finding me like that.”
“Hmm,” he said, his face twitching as I found a knot and began digging my fingers into it. “And what would ya have done if I had found ya?”
“Back then? I would have probably wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment.”
“And now?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Sure, but tell me.”
“I’d let you join me.”
He grinned. “That’s kinda hot.”
“Is it?” I wondered, the question leaving my lips before I could consider the consequences, as a frown creased his forehead. “I just mean…it’s been over a week now. Is it still weird?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But it’s not like a bad weird, just weird. But I-I dunno how to explain it. It’s just ’cause it’s different, not because it’s bad. I like when ya touch me, I like touchin’ ya, I like when we kiss, and I like when we do other stuff.”
“Hmm,” I said, lightening it up a little with a smirk. “And giving me head?”
“Okay, now see here,” he said with a laugh, his face tightening when I rubbed his inner thigh to get the last of the knot out. “I’m still workin’ on that, alright? I never had to figure out if I was a gagger or not.”
“Most people have a gag reflex; only a few are born without one. Other people have to work at not having one.”
“Ya didn’t do that.”
“I did,” I said with a snort. “But when you’re trying to get rid of your gag reflex, it’s understanding that you’re not getting rid of it completely, just enough to work with. If you weren’t hung like crazy, you wouldn’t think I had a gag reflex.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but…I’m not,” he said with a snort.
“No point in apologizing for something you can’t control,” I said, satisfied I had got the worst of the leg taken care of. Just to be a brat, I groped his dick as it nestled safely in his underwear. “And you haven’t heard me complain, have you?”
“Mmm,” he said, his eyes watching me carefully. “Ya ain’t felt it either.”
“If you’re talking about fucking me, you’re right, but that’s what all that training was for,” I said with a laugh as I shifted so I could sit on his lap and massage his chest.
“Training,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t realize training was supposed to be fun. I remember it bein’ pretty rough.”
“I mean, even the good stuff can be rough,” I said with a chuckle.
I honestly had thought that he would be hesitant the first time he put my dick in his mouth, but really, his only hesitation had been trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing.
The second thing I thought he’d be hesitant about was putting his fingers inside me after he’d seen me doing it once while we were messing around.
It turned out that he really wasn’t squeamish, and ever since then, he’d incorporated his fingers in my ass into everything we did.
That was especially true when he discovered that fingering me while he clumsily gave me head was a surefire way to get me riled up quickly.
Not that he needed to go through the extra hoops for me to enjoy myself. Just the fact that it was Cade fucking around with me, and doing it with enthusiasm and curiosity, was enough to last me some time. That he was doing his best to be attentive and dedicated in getting me off was just a bonus.
I paused when I realized that my seat in his lap had gotten harder. I looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start.”
“You’re the one rubbin’ your ass on it,” he grumbled but didn’t look the least bit sorry. “I can’t help it.”
“I wasn’t talking about the boner, but any time I get you hard, you do your best to get something going,” I said with a chuckle as I rubbed his chest and leaned over to start on his arms. Honestly, it felt like the man’s body was one big knot; it was going to take a lot more than one session to get most of them out.
At least I could get started on some of them, especially because the more time I spent rubbing him, the more he looked at me with eyes that were wondering why I was still wearing clothes.
“Can’t help that either,” he chuckled, closing his eyes. “I’ll behave.”
“Good,” I said, wondering how long that would last. As much as I had known that Cade, like the rest of our team, were human beings with hormones and desires, I had never thought about what they were like in the bedroom, or how horny they actually were.
Okay, well, I had thought a bit about it, and there had been a few nights alone in a bunk, my dick hard in my hand, where I had fantasized about what Cade would be like if I got him alone.
I had been right that he was a horny person; he was just good at not broadcasting it.
I had also been right that he really liked physical contact, which was precisely why this massage was a double-edged sword.
What I hadn’t realized was just how much physical touch turned him on.
Apparently there was a mental wall inside his head, because he could touch people all day and night and not have a reaction, but nowadays if I let my hand rest on his back or if he draped his arms over my shoulders, he started getting that look that told me we needed to find a private space and quickly.
And, oof, I could have never predicted how much he liked to manhandle someone when he was sleeping with them.
So far, he hadn’t done too much, but every time he used his superior strength and size to move me around or reposition me, I felt that swooping sense of elation in my gut.
One of these days I was going to have to provoke him into… doing whatever he wanted to me.
“So,” he began, his eyes still closed. “What, uh…brought ya to Arete? Was it…everythin’?”
I paused working on his other arm. “You’ve never asked me before.”
“I know…but I’m askin’ now. If ya wanna answer,” he said, still not looking at me.
I frowned, resuming rubbing his biceps. “It started with me…and you.”
“What do ya mean?”
“After I was hurt, they basically slapped me back together, clapped me on the back and said good job, get back out there. My lung got torn apart, and they waited the bare minimum time before sending me back out,” I said in a low, angry voice.
“And then I heard about you and the guys while they had me at the other end of the country working in some ass-end of nowhere encampment. And everything I heard after that was how you were all just…fucked. Fucked by men in suits, people who’ve never had to fight a day in their lives.
And then you were buried, literally, but also under all this paperwork, sweeping everything under the rug. ”
“That’s…just kinda how it goes,” he said in a sad voice. “Ya had to know that before everythin’ happened.”