Operation 11 Safety Feels Like Him #3
“Please don’t pull away this time,” he pleaded.
Cassidy clenched his jaw. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Not enough to not know what I’m doing…or what I need.” Xander’s fingers tightened in his shirt. His voice shook, but it didn’t waver.
Xander’s gaze dropped to his mouth, then rose back to his eyes.
Cassidy drew a slow breath through his nose. “You’ve gone through a lot tonight. I won’t take advantage of that.”
“I know.” Xander’s voice deepened. “Just…I’ve needed you, Cassie, long before tonight.”
Cassidy shook his head. Slow and uselessly. “I’m not as strong as you think, sweetheart.”
Did I really just call him that?
But the second the words left him, Xander seemed to melt.
Cassidy lowered his head at the same time Xander lifted onto his toes, closing the distance together.
The kiss started as almost nothing, a barely there contact of warmth. Xander mapped the shape of his mouth with his soft lips before dragging his smooth cheek against Cassidy’s beard, sending a low, aching strain through his body.
He answered by tightening the hand in his hair—not to hurt—in the way that made him feel safe.
They parted then met again, the exchange so light and delicate it made the desire sharpen into a need that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with yearning and comfort.
A low, desperate sound escaped Xander when he broke the kiss but neither of them pulled away.
He rubbed his nose along Xander’s cheek, breathing him in, trying to force discipline back into his body one breath at a time, because heaven help him, he wanted to lift Xander onto the bar and find out how many sounds he had trapped behind those warm, pretty lips.
Xander kept his eyes closed, and Cassidy couldn’t resist brushing their lips together one last time.
He wanted the beautiful man in his arms like nothing he’d ever wanted before, but he wouldn’t try for anything more tonight. He wanted Xander rested more than he wanted to satisfy his own needs.
Cassidy stroked his fingers through Xander’s wavy hair. “I know you’re exhausted. You need to get some sleep.”
“I can’t.” Xander brushed his forehead back and forth over Cassidy’s parted lips. A gesture so intimate it cut straight through his armor. “I haven’t in days.”
Cassidy took Xander’s hand and led him towards the bedroom. He left the lights off, letting the glow from the main room provide enough light for him to see.
He guided him to the side of the bed and stopped, leaving only a breath of space between them.
“Arms up.”
Xander obeyed as they kept their eyes locked.
He gently took the hem of Xander’s hoodie, eased it over his head, and tossed it onto the chair by the window.
Xander stood so still in the quiet, bare from the waist up. Cassidy wanted to run his fingers through that little patch of brown-blond hair between his pecs that looked made for his fingertips.
He tried to keep his eyes on Xander’s face, but fuck he was so soft in places fame probably told him not to be.
His skin was flushed a sexy pink hue, from either the fear, liquor or the kiss. Maybe a combination of all three.
Cassidy crouched in front of him and removed Xander’s tennis shoes one at a time
When he stood, Xander watched him with those sad blue eyes, his gaze full of a silent plea to be taken care of.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Xander’s sweatpants then paused a moment to gage his reaction.
Xander nodded.
He eased them down slowly, hoping his calloused palms didn’t irritate him.
Xander’s breath quickened.
Cassidy swallowed hard, forcing down the growl rising in his chest at the sight of Xander’s half hard cock only inches from his face…his mouth.
He smelled so fucking good. Warm, clean—nothing sharp or heavy—and something almost sweet, maybe the lotion he used that made his skin feel so silky.
When the bottoms were gone, he led Xander toward the head of the bed.
He moved the pillows aside, pulled back the covers, and guided him beneath them. He drew the blanket up to his waist, as Xander stared up at him with watery eyes.
Cassidy brushed his fingers across his smooth cheek, the tenderness of it all finding a weak crack in his chest and wedging itself inside.
He stepped away, and panic flashed across Xander’s face.
“I’m not leaving,” he rumbled.
He crossed to the windows and pulled the blackout curtains closed, sealing away the approaching morning, then walked around to the other side of the bed.
Still dressed, he lay down on top of the comforter—keeping that much-needed barrier between them—eased close behind Xander, and wrapped one arm around his waist, drawing him back against his chest.
He brushed his mouth on the rim of Xander’s ear and whispered, “Rest, sweetheart.”
Xander curled his fingers over Cassidy’s forearm where it rested around his stomach.
For a long time, Cassidy lay there listening to him breathe, making sure each tremor faded and his body softened into a deep sleep.
Cassidy knew he’d let duty and his honor to protect blur into something he shouldn’t have…but he didn’t regret it.
At least not yet.