Chapter 32
James
Ihadn’t been angling to get lucky by taking Marc out.
I really did want to celebrate all of his success.
But I also wasn’t complaining about it either.
Add to that him being playful again and I was toast. This man might as well have been my personal Pied Piper.
And fuck me, when he implied he wanted to climb me like a tree? Yes, please.
It was tempting as hell to mess with him as we drove back to the apartment, but then I also wanted to get back in one piece. Shame he didn’t have the same reservations.
“I swear to God, baby boy, if you ‘conveniently’ stop at another yellow light right before it turns red…” I trailed off as he scratched his nails on my thigh, my brain unhelpfully going blank.
Marc flashed me a smirk as he slowed for yet another yellow light. “You’ll what?”
I wanted to say, “Make you pay for it,” but then he punched the gas, flying through the intersection milliseconds before the light could turn red, and I made a mad grab for the “oh shit” bar.
I shot him a scowl as his laughter filled the car, not that I had any prayer of maintaining it while that beautiful sound wrapped around me.
God, I loved his laugh, loved when he was playful and flirty, and those eyes.
Fuck, those eyes of his had been my undoing from the start.
I laced my fingers through his and slowly raised the hand he’d left resting on my thigh to my lips.
He darted several looks my way, trying to watch me and the road at the same time.
I brushed my parted lips over the heel of his palm and felt him shudder.
Rather than place the kiss he no doubt expected, though, I sank my teeth into the meaty flesh.
Marc’s subsequent groan replaced the earlier laughter, his lust pressing mercilessly against the windows of the confined space.
Only then did I place the lightest of kisses.
Thanks to the multitude of streetlights now surrounding us, there was no missing how dilated his pupils had become when he looked at me next.
We also didn’t “catch” any more yellow lights.
Finally, at the flower shop, the sense of expectation hung heavy between us.
I pulled Marc to me the second he was clear of the car, claiming his mouth as if to make up for all the times I hadn’t this week.
We stumbled toward the receiving door in a tangle of limbs, laughing between kisses and doing a terrible job of keeping our hands to ourselves.
Besides, who would want to? I’d seen the way other people looked at Marc, even if he didn’t, and I definitely wasn’t the only one who wanted to get hands on him.
Lucky for me, I did get to. I smiled against his mouth at that happy little thought.
“Kinda need to open the door, Sergeant,” Marc said, his breath light from lack of air and humor.
“Then what are you waiting for, Specialist?”
He groaned and attacked my mouth more aggressively before ripping away to fumble his key into the lock.
The second he had the door open, he yanked me through it.
I shut it behind me, flailing to lock it, even as he tugged me toward the stairs leading to the apartment above.
Then it became anyone’s guess who was dragging whom.
“I had a really great time tonight, Sarge,” he said, hooking a finger in my belt loop and pulling me closer once we made it into the apartment.
“Glad to hear it, Spec. Weathers.” I kicked the door shut with my heel and caged him against the wall, enamored with the smile playing on his lips. I teased a kiss, pulling up short when he leaned forward to claim it. “You deserved it.”
“Really?” From anyone else, I’d assume the breathy whisper was a coy fishing expedition for compliments. Not Marc, though. He genuinely had no idea how truly amazing he was.
I cupped the side of his neck and brushed my lips over his. “Really.”
“Enough to warrant a treat?” he asked, a grin I could just make out in the dim lighting breaking free.
“Specialist Weathers, are you aiming to have your dick sucked?” I crooned before nipping at his neck.
He drew in a sharp breath, but the smile didn’t leave his voice. “Maybe.”
“What happened to wanting to climb me like a tree?”
He groaned again, palming my ass and forcing me against him so I could feel how hard that idea made him. “It’s not exactly something I planned for. Not tonight, anyway.”
I chuckled and ran my hands down his torso, loving how he arched into the touch.
“Works for me, though I think I’m still getting the better end of the deal.
After all, you are my favorite treat.” His throaty laugh turned to a gasp when I squeezed his dick through his jeans. “You gonna fuck my face, Weathers?”
He groaned, and I squeezed a little harder. “Sir, yes, sir,” he gasped.
I tsked and shook my head. “Color, Specialist.”
“G-green, sir.”
“That’s my good soldier.” His sigh was more of a moan as I tasted his lips and flicked his button open.
As much as I wanted to feel the weight of his dick on my tongue, I wanted to play with him more first. “You feel so good, Weathers,” I whispered in his ear as I stroked his length over the unforgiving denim.
He bucked into me, his fingers clawing into my biceps. I couldn’t help the throaty chuckle at his whine when I stopped touching him to yank my shirt off. As soon as I was free, I returned to what I’d been doing, this time sucking bruises into the side of his neck while I tortured his confined dick.
“Honeysuckle,” he panted, burying his fingers in my hair.
Much as it didn’t feel like he wanted me to switch things up, I’d gotten used to him substituting flowers for colors, and honeysuckles were yellow—some of the time, anyway.
So I abandoned his neck to seal my mouth over his once more and slipped my hands beneath his shirt to feel his ridged stomach.
His workouts weren’t nearly as intense now that he wasn’t active military anymore, but the slight softening was a great look on him and felt even better.
I continued to coast my hands up his torso until I had no choice but to break the kiss so I could pull his shirt free.
Then his hands were back on me, touching everywhere and driving me absolutely wild.
At this rate, I’d blow before I ever got his dick in my mouth, and we couldn’t have that.
Smiling against his mouth, I grabbed his wrists and pressed them against the wall over his head before he could think to react.
Instantly his body stilled, and I went on high alert.
“Marc?” He whispered something that might have been a color, but it was so soft I couldn’t make it out over the sound of my heart beating. “Marc, talk to me.”
His whole body began shaking violently, and I loosened my grip on his wrists, my alarm spiking. Then he said in a stronger whisper, “R-red.”
I immediately let go of him and took a step back to give him space to breathe.
I watched in horror as he crumpled in slow motion like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Panic wrapped around my heart and sliced clean through as I dove to catch him before he hit the floor.
He landed on top of me in a boneless heap at an awkward angle that wasn’t doing my knee any favors.
I maneuvered around until I had him cradled in my lap and brushed the hair back from his face.
Shaking still wracked him from head to toe, and he’d broken out in a sweat.
“Marc, baby boy, please talk to me.” The tightness in my throat made talking painful, but I’d be damned if I was just going to sit here and not try to reach him.
I looked from his shadowed face to the dimly lit room.
Light, I needed light. And a cool towel for his face.
I looked down at him again. Even in the dark, I could tell his expression was vacant.
I was loath to let him go, but I couldn’t get any of the things I needed and still hold him.
Okay, I could do this. It would only take a minute.
“Listen, baby boy,” I said softly, gently tracing my fingers along his jaw, “I’m going to set you down and get a few things. I will be right back. You hear? Right back.” He didn’t respond and my heart might as well have been in my throat.
I set him on the floor with exaggerated care, wishing I had something to rest his head on, but of course I’d tossed both of our shirts too far to reach.
I’d have to grab a pillow while I was up.
After one last concerned look, I slowly got to my feet and walked backward into the kitchen, trying hard to keep him in sight.
The shaking seemed to have subsided somewhat, but his borderline catatonic state was freaking me out more than anything, as was the fact that his breathing seemed to be shallower by the second.
I flicked on the kitchen light, wincing against the sudden brightness, and grabbed a glass down from the cabinet.
While it filled with water, I fished out a fresh hand towel from the drawer and wet it.
Once that was finished, I glanced at Marc again to make sure he was okay, or at least hadn’t gotten worse, then darted into the bedroom to grab the comforter off the bed and a couple of pillows.
Feeling like I finally had a handle on things, I returned to the living space and promptly dropped the bedding.
Marc was gone. My gaze darted to the door, but it was still shut, and I doubted he’d have gone that way.
Then I noticed the end table by the couch had been knocked askew.
I tentatively walked around the sofa to get a better look.
“Marc?” I called softly, wary of spooking him.
“Are you there?” A slight scuff was the only sound to betray the presence of anyone other than myself.
I stepped closer to the lamp, taking a second to move it more securely back onto the end table before flicking it on.
At the far end of the room, a figure huddled deeper into the shadows.