Chapter 21 – Jack
JACK
Jack stood in his backyard on Friday evening, throwing a tennis ball for Marley. The lab bounded through patches of half-melted snow, completely unbothered by the cold or the mess.
Luke watched from the deck, smiling.
The men hadn't seen each other since Wednesday night. Just a few texts—nothing deep, just checking in. Luke hadn't pushed, Jack hadn't explained, and the fissure had healed.
But now Luke was here, and Jack was beginning to relax.
He crouched down and ruffled Marley's ears. "Good boy."
Marley panted happily, tail wagging, dropping the ball at Jack's feet for another throw.
This really is a good dog, Jack thought. Perfect for Luke.
Perfect for me, too?
He looked out at the dark, jagged spine of the Rockies, the peaks sharp against the fading light. He was beginning to accept that his mind now automatically linked them together. Luke, Marley, this house, and this town.
It was beginning to seem less like a temporary assignment and more like a permanent one. But staking a claim to all of this would mean lowering the walls of his fortress, not merely adjusting his focus.
Inside, Marley went straight to his bed on the floor. Jack went straight for Luke.
He lifted him from behind and spun him around, carrying him toward the bedroom. Luke laughed in surprise, wrapping his arms around Jack's neck.
Jack tossed him onto the bed.
"Strip," he said.
Luke's eyes lit up. He pulled off his clothes quickly, already starting to harden.
Jack dropped his pants and stood over him, fully erect, his expression intense.
"On your back," Jack ordered as he kept undressing. "Lift your feet up and out. Show me that hole."
He slicked himself up with lube and tossed the bottle to Luke.
Luke applied it, breathing faster now.
Jack grabbed Luke's ankles and put them on Jack’s shoulders, then Luke took them in his own hands. Luke’s torso rocked back, shoulders down, hips tilting up, and Jack aimed himself and pushed inside—slowly, deliberately, watching Luke's face every second.
"Oh, fuck," Luke breathed.
Jack stared into his eyes and kissed him hard, his tongue deep, claiming his mouth the way he was claiming his body.
With assertion.
He didn’t know how else to express his growing, uncontained emotions for Luke, so he did what he could by overwhelming Luke with intense attention and focus.
This was a military commander leading an invasion—and Luke offered no resistance, wrapping his arms tightly around Jack's back and moaning, "God, yes, Colonel. Drill me into the floor."
Jack fucked him hard and slow, pulling almost all the way out before driving deep again and again. Deeper each time.
Luke yelped. "God, that's so good."
Jack grabbed both of Luke's wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand, bracing himself with his other arm as he power-stroked into Luke.
At one point, he paused, looked up and out the window, and felt heat tingling behind his eyeballs.
He shook his head, flinging sweat from his hair, which was a bit longer now, barely past regulation length.
Then he looked back down at Luke, eyes drilling into him as if his dick could force them both through the floor.
His thrusts stayed slow and deep until the end. He wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of coming first. Finally, Luke cried out as he released his body-shaking orgasm between them.
Even as Jack's own orgasm built, his pace never changed. When it hit, he drove as deep as possible and held still while he came, pulse after pulse.
He looked down at Luke's face like he was waking from a dream, startled. Then he kissed him hard, sucking the air from Luke's lungs, not ready to retreat yet.
"Hot damn, Jack," Luke said when they finally broke apart. "I've never been fucked like that before."
"Good," Jack said, rolling over and staring at the ceiling.
He felt he'd put to rest every question, every doubt, every moment of confusion from Wednesday night.
But had he?