Top Priority

Top Priority



The Game Series, #1





Cara Dee





Top Priority

Copyright © 2019 by Cara Dee

All rights reserved





This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be reproduced in any way without documented permission of the author, not including brief quotes with links and/or credit to the source. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction and all references to historical events, persons living or dead, and locations are used in a fictional manner. Any other names, characters, incidents, and places are derived from the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademark status and owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction. Characters portrayed in sexual situations are 18 or older.





Edited by Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC.

Beta read by Eliza Rae Services.





Contents




Are you ready for the games?





Chapter 1



Chapter 2



Chapter 3



Chapter 4



Chapter 5



Chapter 6



Chapter 7





Epilogue 1



Epilogue 2



Oh, but there’s more



About Cara





Are you ready for the games?





Welcome to The Game Series, a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, two things are certain. This is not a perfect world, and life never turns out the way you planned.



Top Priority is the first book in The Game Series, and it’s been written so it can be enjoyed as a standalone.





One





“Fuck!” I slammed on the brakes and watched in horror as something shattered part of my windshield, creating a spider web in the glass. My car skidded along the highway, and my pulse skyrocketed.

I came to a stop on the side of the road, and I looked behind me to see if there were any cars nearby. Hail kept pounding the roof. Wide gaze trained forward again, I spotted a golf ball-sized chunk of ice st; uck in the windshield. I flinched as more ice hit the car. Thunder roared, lightning struck out in the field, and the dark gray sky turned black.

“Jesus Christ.” I blew out a heavy breath and turned on the hazard lights, then sat back and drew my hands through my hair, fisting the short ends. I’d recently cut my hair, and I forgot I couldn’t really tug at it anymore.

A drop of water hit the dashboard. I glared at the broken windshield and killed the engine.

How the hell was I supposed to get out of here now? I could barely look through the window. Either I would have to sink as low as I possibly could in my seat and still duck my head, or I’d have to peer through the glass closer to the middle. One way or another, any driving instructor would fail me.

The storm wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, that much was clear.

I checked my watch and sighed. My heart rate was finally recovering.

Making it home to DC today was officially out of the question.

I couldn’t help but laugh. What a splendid fucking way to end a week that already belonged in hell.

This was… No, I was done. I had no place at my father’s company. Real estate wasn’t for me, even when he’d kindly created a position for me so I could use my marketing degree. I’d been miserable—going nowhere fast—even before this week. Then I’d received the assignment to fill in for a coworker who was sick. It’d been straightforward enough. Go down to Georgia, mainly the Atlanta area, and meet with the higher-ups at an agency about a possible merger. Three real estate agencies along the East Coast were joining forces.

That had been the plan. After nine disastrous meetings, I couldn’t in good conscience recommend my father go through with the merger. The peachy state of Georgia would take us all down, with properties in bad school districts, straight-up shacks, and unsellable swampland. Meanwhile, my father was selling townhouses in Georgetown, and the Philadelphia agency raked in millions in the townships along the Main Line.

I huffed in frustration and loosened my tie, hungry, irritated, beyond tired, and uncomfortable.

The hailstorm was finally passing, leaving the thunder and pouring rain behind. Rain, I could handle.

I couldn’t stay out here in the middle of nowhere, though. No other car had passed me, so I supposed I was the only stupid one around.

All right, time to get out of here. Time to get wet. I braced myself and stepped out of the car, the rain immediately whipping me in the face. The heat was returning too. It’d been cooler at my last stop, not as humid, but I could feel it now. A cold gust of wind met a humid one. Summer was coming in fast.

Leaning over the windshield, I tried to pinch the chunk of ice— “For the love of God!” I growled. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why had I not just pushed the thing out from inside the car? Why was I out here?

Instantly infuriated, I wiped rain off my face and dug out the ice from the windshield, and then I hurried back into the car.

As I started the engine, I was met by a cold blast of the AC, not to mention the next “What’s wrong with me?” moment.

Now the rain was coming in, goddammit.

“Fuck my life,” I gritted out, gripping the wheel at ten and two.

Two miles to Richmond.

Pulling out from the side of the road, I leaned toward the center console to be able to see the highway. I crept up the deserted road at twelve miles an hour, and still, not a single soul passed me. Saturday in the South. Everyone was at home enjoying a warm supper.

I remembered my way down to Georgia… I remembered the gas station in Richmond where all the Greyhound buses had rolled through. I remembered seeing all the auto shops as I’d filled up on gas. It wasn’t too far away from where I was now, so that was where I would go.

Hell, I hoped they hadn’t closed for the storm. It was a big one. I’d heard them talking about it on the radio, though it hadn’t even registered that I’d be smack-dab in the middle of it. All I’d seen was the image of my bed, coming home, showering off this godforsaken week, and then ordering a pizza.





One auto shop was still open. One. I could cry. From relief or exhaustion, I wasn’t sure.

A man who, coincidentally, shared my name took the keys from me and said I’d gotten lucky with a broken windshield. Then he went on to tell me about the time his daughter had driven home from Virginia Beach and… I couldn’t focus. He was chuckling. There was lightning, both in the story of his and outside the garage bay. Either way, his daughter had survived getting wrapped around a tree.

I looked out at where the rain kept gushing down.

“Do you think I’ll get out of here today?” I asked, full of doubt. Yet, I hoped desperately.

Luke chuckled again, and he wiped his hands on a dirty rag. “Won’t take long, but you shouldn’t drive for twenty-four hours. Gotta give the adhesive time to dry, you see. Plus—” he pointed outside “—in this weather? You ain’t goin’ nowhere tonight, son.”

I definitely wanted to cry, but I wasn’t going to. I was a grown man. I was turning thirty next year. I’d accomplished approximately nothing of what I’d written down as my goals before college, but fuck it, right? Fuck it all. Fuck it all! I didn’t own a home yet. I wasn’t running my own company or climbing the ladder at a nice agency, I hadn’t met the love of my life, I didn’t have a dog, and now this. Stuck in goddamn Richmond. Stuck in a storm.

I was hot and cold. The sticky humidity made me uncomfortably sweaty, at the same time as the harsh winds blasted my wet clothes with icy cold.

Luke recommended a cab to a hotel up the road, and I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?

“Thank you, sir,” I said politely. Wasn’t his fault my week sucked royally.

Standing in the opening of the bay, I pulled out my phone to call a cab, but I paused. Across the street, there was a bar. Best ribs in Richmond, they promised. That was probably setting the bar low, but I was positively famished. Oh, and alcohol. I really wanted a drink or fourteen.

“Is the food over there any good?” I asked my mechanic.

“Huh?” Luke looked across the street. “Oh—yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely. Just stay away from the artichoke dip. It’ll give you—hell.” He shuddered, possibly at a memory. No artichoke dip, copy that. “I love the cornbread, though. Get that.”

No need to mention to him I wasn’t very fond of cornbread. Instead, I nodded in thanks, and I made sure he had my number and that he could call whenever. Then I left the garage bay and stepped out into the storm, quickly picking up the pace to dart across the empty road.

Surely, this week couldn’t get any worse.

I yanked the door open and…fucking tripped. I tripped, okay? I tripped. Because why not? Why wouldn’t I trip? I cursed and steadied myself by grabbing on to the nearest—

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry!” Appalled and shocked, I stumbled back to gain my bearings. I hadn’t been close enough to grab on to a barstool. I saw high tables and chairs scattered about, and in an attempt to steady myself, I’d sent a poor young woman to the floor instead.

Holy shit, I couldn’t believe myself. My day had crossed over to bizarre at this point.

I swallowed hard and scrubbed at my face, wiping away raindrops and wishing the floor could swallow me whole. The smell of grilled food and old wood hit me and caused my stomach to snarl with want, though I had to do some damage control first. I cleared my throat and extended a hand to help the girl up, and I knew I was dead the second I saw four men approaching. Oh, they were mad. So very mad.

“I’m sorry, miss,” I told the girl.

“It’s okay, but you should go,” she muttered and dusted off her knees. “My brothers get protective.”

“Heh.” I gave the exit behind me a quick glance. The place wasn’t big. The dozen or so people filled up the bar fairly well, with most of them gathered in the back where I spotted a dart board. My gaze flicked to the bar and the three men seated there.

“Hey—don’t.” The girl stepped into the line of fire as the first guy reached us. “It was a mistake.”

I had to man up. Fast. “Apologies, sir. I’d be happy to buy a round of drinks for—”

“Oh, you think you can buy our silence, huh?” He glared, this mountain of a redneck. “You’re a long way from the city, pretty boy.”

Well, okay. I actually had limits. “What on earth are you talking about? Since when are an apology and a drink a way to buy someone’s silence? And for the fucking record—”

“Whoa, okay there, pretty boy.” Someone else came over quickly and obstructed my view. Rather than glaring at the mountain man, I was giving a lethal look—or so I hoped—to the back of a man’s neck. He was a couple inches taller than my six-one, and he was a lot more sculpted than me, too. The fabric of his tee stretched across his defined shoulder blades, and he folded his arms over his chest. I suddenly wanted to see that as well. “We’re not lookin’ for trouble here, are we? We’re all just waitin’ out the storm.”

His accent was different. Not my part of the South.

I took a step to the side and noticed the tattoo on his bicep. I’d know that symbol anywhere. A simple chain with two dog tags was tangled in metallic wings that could only belong to the Air Force.

He was military.

Perhaps the mountain man had noticed something too, because he puffed out his chest some more before he walked away with his brothers and sister.

I released a heavy breath and rubbed a hand over my mouth.

The Air Force guy turned around to face me with a mild smirk.

He was strikingly sexy and had the most gorgeous green eyes. Warm, bordering on hazel. I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, remembering I was in enemy territory here. It wasn’t a bar with a Pride flag in the window in DC; it was a hole-in-the-wall in Richmond.

“Thank you for interceding, sir.” I held out my hand.

“Uh-huh. No worries,” he drawled and shook my hand. I wouldn’t have expected anything other than the firm handshake he gave me. “You look like you’ve had a day.”

“And a half,” I replied.

He nodded at the bar. “You can join me in the opposite direction of the Richmond Royalty.”

A chuckle slipped out, and I followed him to the bar where we could share a corner.

The wall behind the bar was packed with bottles and a menu written in chalk. My stomach decided on a big rack of baby back ribs with mashed potatoes and collard greens.

After giving my order to the bartender, I turned to my nameless companion and asked if he was hungry. “I’m buying,” I added.

He squinted up at the menu and scratched his bicep absently. “Is the gravy any good, ma’am?”

The lady behind the bar rocked flannel and a wrinkled, motherly grin. “Goes back three generations, and no complaints so far.”

My company for the evening grinned right back. God, his smile was incredible. There was no doubt about it; he was drowning in women who wanted him. Men too. I’d be first in line.

“Sounds better than the finest Yelp review. I’ll have a number six, thanks,” he said. It was half a chicken with biscuits and gravy. It definitely sounded good. “Oh, can I get a side of mac and cheese too?”

“Of course, sugar. Beers for both’a y’all?”

We nodded. I wanted a Corona, and he wanted the same he’d ordered before. It came in a glass.

When the lady left, I slumped back in my seat a bit and removed my tie. I couldn’t pretend to be comfortable in my clothes anymore. Wet goddamn clothes. I ran a hand through my hair too, hoping to make it a little less disheveled.

Laughter came from the dart board corner, and a bad country song was playing.

It truly was a country-lovin’ place. Now that I wasn’t facing a throwdown and I was away from the storm, I could better take in the surroundings. Posters graced the paneled walls. Country singers and ranches and cattle auctions… Lamps hung low over the tables, and smoke danced in the light.

“Nice place, innit?”

I couldn’t respond truthfully without sounding rude, so I merely smiled politely. Then I went for introductions. “I’m Lucas, by the way. Lucas West.”

He took a swig of his beer. “Colt.”





Two





Colt jerked his chin at my shirt. “You’re just passin’ through, I assume.”

“Yes. I’m on my way home to DC after a week in Atlanta. What about you?”

“Passin’ through too.” He nodded. “My folks just moved to Norfolk.”

Ah. “So, you’re not supposed to be at Langley at oh-six-hundred tomorrow or something,” I joked. Langley was near Norfolk, I was pretty sure.

His mouth twitched. “Day after tomorrow, and it’s fourteen-hundred.”

I laughed. “Really? Good guess on my part.”

He snorted. “Sure. Airman passing through Richmond, and Langley being one of the biggest bases around…”

Okay, so he was going to be difficult about it. “Perhaps you know this. Is it true that guys in the Air Force are arrogant and cocky as hell?”

Colt offered an infectious grin. “Well, our women too.”

“Great.” I should drop it. He’d been kind enough to save my hide earlier. I’d buy him dinner, and then we’d part ways. I wasn’t going to push his buttons or tell him I didn’t like arrogance. It was an unflattering trait.

I chugged half my beer instead.

In a couple hours, I’d be in a hotel room. I could play nice until then.

“So what do you do in the Air Force?” I asked.

“Help keep the country safe.”

Sweet Jesus.

“You should see the look on your face,” he laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, man. I’m a pilot.”

“Of course you are.” I shook my head, torn between amusement and wanting to smack him. “The cockiest of them all.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. He carried himself in a special way. He came off young in his manners, yet there was structure the military had given him, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He was older than me. Not by very many years, but it was noticeable.

Colt cleared his throat and dropped the humor. “We have to be cocky. Too many things can go wrong in a split second—literally—and our toys are worth hundreds of millions of dollars. If we don’t have balls, we go down.”

I knew next to nothing about his profession, not to mention the armed forces. I came from a family of paper pushers. That movie, Top Gun, came to mind. I remembered the pilots in the movie being awfully full of themselves.

I smirked. “Have you ever sung ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling’ to a woman in a bar?”

Colt widened his eyes at me. If I didn’t know any better, he looked offended. “That’s the fuckin’ Navy, son. Do I look like a goddamn squid?”

I pinched my lips together, but I couldn’t stop my shoulders from shaking with laughter. “Touchy. I didn’t mean to ruffle your delicate feathers.”

“Oh…so that’s how it is.” He nodded slowly and wiped a finger along the condensation on his glass. “Anyway. You know I’m a fighter pilot. That’s enough to know I’m in the top percentage in the world. In short, I’m great. Your turn—”

“Good lord, some humility wouldn’t kill you,” I blurted out.

He grinned. “Too easy.”

I huffed and took a sip of my beer.

I eyed the ceiling fan, idly wishing there wasn’t one right above me. My clothes would be wet for quite a while longer, and the cool air in here made me shiver.

“What about you?” he asked. “What job’s got you runnin’ around in a suit? Married? Bunch’a little ones bitin’ at your ankles? No, wait. You’re not there yet.”

I had no desire whatsoever to discuss my career. “Single, no kids. Children aren’t the type of little ones I’m interested in.” I hoped that was vague enough. For all I cared, he could believe I wanted a pack of dogs. “I’ve worked for my father, but that’s about to end. I foresee an impressive stack of job applications going out soon.”

He leaned back in his seat and tilted his head, a pensive look on his face. “You’re from around this area, yeah?”

I inclined my head. “Bethesda. You?”

He tipped an imaginary hat. “The great state of Texas, sir.” Ah. Cowboy hat, then. “Born and raised in San Antonio.”

“Military City,” I replied with a chuckle.

“That’s right.” He smiled, perhaps surprised I knew the nickname. “I went to high school in Austin, though. My folks took pity on me.” At my quizzical look, he let out a soft, uncomfortable laugh and leaned forward again. I’d only known the man twenty minutes, and I could already be certain of the fact that he didn’t “do” nervous and uncomfortable. “My whole family’s involved in the Air Force. Pop’s an old pilot himself and stayed in the service to be a flight instructor. My mother’s still a teacher. When we were overseas, she taught English at the base. And my baby sister is one hell of genius—mechanical engineer.” There was an abundance of pride, I noted. “She’s stationed in Florida at the moment.” He paused and took a big swig of his beer. Then he cleared his throat. “The Air Force is my life, but…it ain’t the easiest environment to grow up in if you’re gay.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Okay, I could admit I had not seen that one coming.

“My mother, bless her,” he went on, “took a civilian job and rented an apartment in Austin for the two of us those four years I was in high school in a more accepting town.”

I stashed away any remnants of my surprise, and I smiled at what he told me. “Your family seems very lovely. Not many would do that.”

He held up his beer glass. “I’m fortunate.”

So was I.

This was interesting. Questions began piling up, and the first one was obvious. “What made you tell me this? From what I’ve heard—and what I know from growing up—it’s rarely a conversation starter with a stranger.”

He seemed to relax a little. Tension faded from his shoulders. “City folk are easier. You’re not from around here, pretty boy.” He smirked at my eye roll. “And…I reckon I know what little ones you’re interested in.” His drawl turned interested into “innerested,” and it drew me in like a moth to a flame—until I replayed his words in my head and sat up straight.

“Pardon?”

He chuckled under his breath. “You’re involved in kink, aren’t you? BDSM communities are a lot more accepting of other sexual preferences too.”

“How did you…?” I was at a loss. And utterly fascinated. Colt was sharp.

“Takes a Daddy Dom to know one?” he guessed, bobbing his head to the beat of the song playing. “I love this song. It’s a dancin’ tune.”

I merely stared at him as I processed. This cocky fighter pilot across from me was not only gay, but he was a Daddy Dom like me? I never would’ve guessed it so quickly, not like he had.

Colt must’ve noticed the state I was in. “Good guess on my part?”

“A little too good,” I admitted.

“I’m a gift that keeps on giving.”

I shot him a frustrated look. “You didn’t guess my sexual orientation, little one.”

He flashed a quick grin at the nickname, only to frown in confusion. Finally, I got the fucker.

“You’re gay?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah, imagine that,” I answered dryly. “We’re not that rare, you know.”

“Rare enough,” he said firmly. “It’s gotten easier, though. When I enlisted, I kept that shit to myself—only my family knew. It’s not until the past couple of years I’ve been more open.”

We hit the proverbial pause button when the lady arrived with our food.

We ordered new beers too.

I shivered at another cold breeze and eye-fucked my food. Jesus, this was going to be good.

“It’s a funny coincidence,” I said, picking up a rib. “We have a lot in common, all while…”

“We’re entirely different?” he chuckled.

I smiled and dipped my chin.

The food was incredible, and it stalled the conversation further, not that I minded. I’d earned this meal and then some. It was amazing.

We learned some minor tidbits about each other while we ate. He was thirty-six and happy his folks had moved to Virginia. His rank was Captain, though his buddies called him Top, which apparently was painted on the side of his headgear when he flew.

“Do I want to know the meaning?” I wondered.

His smirk made a reappearance. “I always end up on top.”

I snorted and wiped my mouth with my napkin.

“I’m a brand, baby.” Goddamn, he was too much. “It’s become a thing during training. Puns comin’ outta every orifice—‘get on Top,’ if they’re chasin’ me, ‘look at him topping from the bottom.’ Chuckles all ’round.” He paused. “Sometimes you gotta dive and fly low to confuse the bandit’s radar. That’s topping from the bottom. Well, among other things.”

I was familiar with among other things.

As overbearing as he was, I couldn’t help but want to get to know more about him. I wanted to see him fly. It had to be a heady experience.

If I were half as animated and passionate about my job, I’d be lucky.

“Another thing we have in common,” I said. “I top from the bottom outside of kink too.” Or within kink, if I dated a submissive boy who enjoyed topping as well. I was still exploring, to be honest. I’d only discovered BDSM three years ago.

Colt raised his brows. “Oh, really. That’s…innerestin’.”

Was it?

Fuck.

Was it? This was just dinner. It wasn’t going to turn into a one-night stand. I’d left those behind. I was fairly certain.

Christ, why did I go there? This one was on me, to boot. I’d brought it up.

To hell with it. I had no issues being blunt. “We’re not sleeping together,” I told him.

He smiled. “’Course not.”

It was best to circle back to his job. It was a safe topic. “So, Langley must be a playground for you.”

He scratched his eyebrow, seemingly stuck on a thought, then returned his attention to his food and shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I’m not stationed there. Yet.”

Oh. “Yet?”

“I’m at Shaw in South Carolina,” he confirmed. “But when you’re as good as I am, you’ll get advice from superiors that ain’t really advice.” He tore off the wing from his chicken. “They want me in flight training with a new plane after my deployment, hence the meeting at Langley the day after tomorrow.”

There was a fair bit of information to process, and deployment stuck out distinctly. “You’re getting deployed?”

“Yes, sir.” He inclined his head. “We ship out to Iraq in a few days.”

Shit. I didn’t know why that put an uneasy feeling in my stomach. It went beyond the general worry one felt when watching segments about our troops on the news.

“Have, uh, have you been overseas before?”

“A few times, sure.” It appeared to be obvious to him. “Bosnia was my first—just a short stint. Two tours in Afghanistan. This will be my second in Iraq.”

“Good lord, Colt.” I stared at him, unable to express what I felt. I barely even knew. It was something overwhelming, though. Having spent my life far away from the armed forces, I wasn’t close to any service members. Soldiers existed solely in movies and on the news. And now, here I was, having dinner with a war hero. Someone who put his life at risk for this country and schmucks like me.

Unlike before, there was no trace of cockiness in Colt now. If anything, he was showing signs of discomfort. It’d gotten too serious for him. And the realization hit so squarely. He loved being in the spotlight, didn’t he? But only if he stepped into it. If someone else directed the attention his way, or if we strayed too far away from easygoing subjects, his arrogance vanished into thin air.

“You’re a hero.” I tested the words.

He scoffed and shook his head. “I’m doin’ my job—and I do it damn well—but I ain’t a hero.”

Uh-huh.

“You said it yourself earlier,” I pointed out. Pushing a bit. “You help keep the country safe.”

“Which is my job,” he volleyed back. “Doesn’t make me a hero. Now, change the subject.”

I grinned and suppressed a shiver from the cold.

Colt narrowed his eyes at me. “You can’t push my buttons, pretty boy.”

“Looks like I just did, Captain.” I finished my food and wiped my mouth, then sat back, satisfied and full. “For the record, calling me pretty boy doesn’t bug me. My masculinity isn’t easily threatened.”

“I wasn’t trying to threaten it,” he chuckled. “But you are pretty. I bet you look good when you beg.”

I sighed, not even tempted to take the bait. Then I gave the lady behind the bar a two-finger wave to get her attention.

“Did it taste all right, boys?” she asked, gathering our plates.

“It was great, thank you,” I replied. “I’d like a coffee—black—and a bourbon. Maker’s if you have it.”

Hopefully, that would thaw me out a bit.

“Same for me, hold the coffee,” Colt added. “You were right about the gravy, ma’am. Best I’ve had outside of Texas.”

“I’ll take it.” The lady winked and got started on our order.





The coffee warmed me up slightly—temporarily.

The first bourbon didn’t do much, but the second and the third hit the sweet spot.

By the fourth, Colt and I were the only ones left in the establishment. The lady, who’d introduced herself as Maggie, said we could stay a while longer. The storm was still raging, and she had “borin’ books” to go through anyway.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom after Colt had given me a minor quiz about my family. I was an only child, so there hadn’t been much to divulge, other than my mother having taken care of me on her own until I was three. Then she’d met the man who’d quickly earned the badge of Dad for me.

In the smudgy mirror above the two sinks in the men’s room, I saw my reflection and sighed heavily. My hair had dried, thankfully, but it didn’t look very good. I ran a hand through it and tried to smooth down the mess at the top. Then I threw away a paper towel and exited the—oh, for fuck’s sake. I came to an abrupt stop right there in the doorway because Colt had evidently decided to pull the oldest trick in the gay book. A bathroom ambush, really?

Despite the cliché, my pulse spiked, and I ran my gaze over him quickly. What my body wanted, there was no question. He wasn’t the type of guy I usually went for, but sweet Jesus, he was one perfect specimen. A perfect Top…

I’d had way too much to drink to make responsible decisions.

“My turn,” he said.

Oh. So, he hadn’t tried to… Never mind. I stepped to the side so he could pass.

Colt met me in the doorway, closer than necessary, and paused briefly. I swallowed hard. He raised a brow, and his mouth twisted up.

“We’re not going to sleep together,” I repeated.

He lifted his hand and ghosted his knuckles along my forearm, touching no more than the fine hairs on my arm. “So you keep tellin’ me.”

I shivered as he left goose bumps in his wake, and this time, I couldn’t blame the cold.

“We’re a bad idea,” I stated as resolutely as I could. And even to my ears, it sounded weak and husky.

“On that, we agree,” he murmured. Next, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. A swift, firm hold.

I sucked in a breath. His body heat seared into me, and I was torn between pushing back and pulling in. Fight or surrender. No, I couldn’t. I didn’t surrender. I’d never liked it.

Colt flashed me a frown. “You’re chilled to the bone, Luke.”

Funnily enough, I felt hot. Desire stirred, causing my thoughts to derail further. I liked the way he said my name in that scratchy, warm voice. God, he was truly all man.

“I’m fine,” I replied quietly.

He shook his head. “No, not this. There’s a limit. You can get sick.” He cleared his throat and entered the men’s room fully. “We’ll finish our drinks, and then we’re outta here.”

Together?

Not wise at all.





Three





Stumbling back to the bar, I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes and did my best to wake up. Attraction was easy enough to deal with. There were a lot of men I found sexy, though Colt probably did take the prize. Which I would never tell him. But there was more. Tension—a draw. A game. There was chemistry and a dare. A delectable challenge.

I half collapsed in my seat and took a gulp of my bourbon, then asked Maggie for the check.

She gave me a puzzled expression. “Your friend already settled the bill, sugar.”

I clenched my hand around my drink and tensed my jaw.

He had no right to do that, goddammit. I’d told him I was buying.

Colt appeared from around the corner, and my scowl was instant. Fuck, how had I not noticed the jeans before? He wore them dangerously well. So simple, jeans and a tee, yet he looked like he belonged in a catalogue or on a runway.

Refocusing on his face, I remembered exactly why I hadn’t paid attention to his clothes. That damn face. Sharp features met kind, inviting eyes, a charming, dimpled grin, and a dusting of stubble. His hair was short and dark, though still lighter than mine. It looked soft to touch.

Remember you’re angry with him, you googly-eyed fool.

Right. I narrowed my eyes again. “You paid the check,” I said accusingly.

“Oh.” He scratched the side of his head and sat down. “Huh. My bad?”

I took a deep breath and searched for the mountain of frustration. Perhaps the bourbon had drowned it, because I couldn’t find more than a small molehill.

“Finish your drink,” he told me.

I finished my drink.

“Thank you for providin’ the best shelter from this storm tonight, ma’am.” Colt turned on the Texas charm for Maggie. “I’ll be sure to come back.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet.” Maggie blushed and waved him off. “You boys take care. Get out of the rain as soon as you can.”

“Are you locking up soon?” I wondered. “We’d be happy to wait so we can walk you to your car.”

Colt nodded.

“No need,” she replied with a smile. “My husband will be here in a bit, and Carlos is still in the kitchen. You go on out of here now.”

Very well, then. I snatched up my discarded tie and aimed for the exit, where the southern humidity was waiting right outside. As was the rain, though it had slowed down significantly.

I didn’t know where we were goi—

“My hotel’s right up the street,” Colt said. “You up for a quick run?”

“Not at all,” I assured. I hit the sidewalk at a moderate pace, and I wasn’t going to push it. At this point, the heat was merely a pleasure. “I have a question.”

Colt stuck his hands down into his pockets and bunched up his shoulders. “No, we shouldn’t sing in the rain.”

I laughed. “You’re funny. But no… Why are you in Richmond? This isn’t on the way to Langley—or your parents’—if you’re coming up from South Carolina.”

“I’ve been in DC this week,” he answered. “I had some R&R with a couple buddies from base.” He nudged my elbow with his. “One of them’s kinky. A fellow Sadist—though he’s on another level. He’s heavily involved in his community. Maybe you know him?”

“Wait, you’re a Sadist?”

He flashed me a quick grin. “Forgot to mention that, huh?”

I barely resisted rolling my eyes.

He’d take you like a fucking savage. And you want it.

I gave that unbidden thought a swift kick and followed Colt across the dead street. “Can’t believe there’re two of you.” Heavens, what was I doing with a sadistic Top?

I couldn’t deny that when I bottomed, I wanted to hurt. Mentally, no one would ever receive my submission. I’d tried and despised it. I’d even been annoyed by my aversion to it. My sex life would’ve been much better had I at least been a switch. Alas, following orders and pleasing from underneath went against everything I desired.

Finding a sweet sub who also wanted to give Daddy a brutal fuck on the regular was close to impossible, though.

“Ev might be worse than me,” Colt mused. “Reckless kid with maso tendencies he hasn’t explored enough yet. I’m pretty sure he’s a switch.”

Sadomasochists were fun.

I didn’t know anyone named Ev, though. Which wasn’t strange. DC was a big city, and we had more than one thriving community.

“He’s told me some of the things he did with an ex-girlfriend.” Colt whistled.

That might explain it. “I’ve grown comfortable in my own little kink bubble. Mostly gay men.”

“Yeah, he’s dancing all over that rainbow too,” Colt said with a snort.

I side-eyed Colt, detecting an admiration he had for his friend. “Is he possibly a partner of yours?”

He frowned. “Who, Ev and me? Christ no. We’d kill each other.” He let out a laugh and wiped rain off his face. “He’s the kid brother I never wanted, and I’m…riding his ass hard in the non-fun way at work.”

I could see it clearer now. The Daddy Dom in Colt—I saw it. I could tell he was the type of Daddy who wanted to push his Little to be his absolute best.

My own approach, I supposed, had more cushion.

“Here we are.” Colt nodded at a building at the next corner, and I followed him when he picked up the pace a bit. “It was the best thing I could find within walkin’ distance of the bus station.”

Oh, so he’d taken the bus. “Let me guess. Your connection was canceled because of the storm.”

“Bingo.”

Made sense. The highway had really been deserted earlier.

The hotel was in better shape than I expected for the run-down area of Richmond we were in. I’d slept in worse places during my stay in Georgia. No flashing neon sign on the outside, and the white paint on the building wasn’t peeling off the façade. Three stories. The lights were on in two windows.

“I’m gonna make you a deal, Lucas.” Colt stopped when we were under an awning right outside the sliding doors. “You’re sleepin’ in my room. I’m genuinely concerned from before—you were ice-cold—and…shit.” He scowled. “You didn’t mention anythin’. You didn’t say the bar was turnin’ you into a popsicle.”

I smiled, unable to help it. Daddy Colt was sweet.

“You think getting pneumonia’s fun?” he asked irritably.

I shook my head, still amused, but mostly touched. “Tell me more about this deal.” Taking a step closer, I looked him straight in the eye and waited.

“You’re drunk.”

“Not really.” I was honest. I was intoxicated enough to ignore some of my general rules about hookups, but not tipsy enough to call it the perfect buzz. And he was…too fucking sexy for his own good. Even more so now when he was wet from the rain. I drank him in, the way his T-shirt clung to his body, the drops of water glistening in his stubble. I wanted to strip him down and lick every—

“I’m not gonna make a single move on you,” he said.

My gaze flashed back to his, and I stiffened to hide my disappointment. Fuck. I’d been so sure—wait. He didn’t say he wasn’t interested.

“That’s the deal,” he went on. “You agree to stay in my room so I can make sure you get your body temperature up, and I won’t make a move.”

I would, though. He could fucking count on it.

“Lead the way,” I said.





“You should take a hot shower,” he told me, opening the door to his hotel room. “I’ll be a good boy and separate the beds.”

No need. “I’m actually not that cold.” I felt the need to inform him.

He shook his head and dropped his wallet onto the desk. “That’s the booze talkin’.” Across the small room was the bed, and there was a chair by the window. Not much else would fit in here. Everything looked fresh and clean, though the dark-brown rug had seen better days.

Colt traveled light. An army-green daypack rested against the wall next to the bathroom door. There were a handful of patches on it, one of which stood out. The Air Force signature wings with a star in the middle.

Shit. A thought occurred to me. I’d forgotten my suitcase in my car.

“Hey. I’m serious.” Colt turned on the nightstand lamps and pointed at the bathroom. “Go take a shower.”

Bossy. If I weren’t already feeling the warmth of his concern, I would’ve argued for the sake of it.

I stepped out of my shoes and hung my tie on the knob of the door, then snuck into the bathroom and left the door ajar.

An amateur had done this bathroom with big ambitions. I could see they’d tried to mimic the clean hotel look with white tiles, a big sink, and a shower with a glass partition, but something had gotten in the way. Probably the budget. You got what you paid for, and that was unevenly placed tiles here and there, a leaking faucet, a slightly crooked towel rack, and one of the three dispensers in the shower had come loose. It rested on the floor instead.

I grimaced as I removed my belt and pushed down my pants. It felt great to finally come out of my wet clothes, but it was a struggle. And my skin was colder than I’d originally thought.

I’d better not get sick.

There was no bathtub, just a comfortably big shower, which sparked the thought that two grown men could easily fit in there.

Would he go for it?

I got rid of the last of my clothes and walked into the shower, turning the water on hot.

Hell, that’s it. I just stood there for a while, letting the warm water cascade down and loosen the tension in my muscles.

After a couple minutes, I called for Colt and poured some body wash into my hand.

“God,” I muttered to myself. It was the first time in a week I’d felt utterly relaxed and comfortable. Lust and mental images of Colt sparked when I soaped up my cock, and I wondered how long he was going to be before he got here. He better not have fallen asleep. “Colt?”

“Right here, darlin’.”

“Jesus.” I looked over my shoulder and saw him leaning casually against the sink, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest. “What’re you doing?”

“Enjoying the view?”

I shook my head, amused. “Join me instead, Captain.”

“Thank fuck, because I was lyin’ about separatin’ the beds.” He yanked his tee over his head and stripped off his jeans—well, then. Okay. No boxers or anything. I swallowed hard and stared at his cock, this thick, long, beautiful cock that I couldn’t fucking wait to suck.

He stepped into the shower, and I faced him fully, drew him closer, under the spray with me, and slipped a hand up his sculpted back.

He took a breath and one last step, slowly aligning our bodies. Goose bumps rose along my arms, and I appreciated that he wasn’t in any rush either.

Colt ghosted his knuckles up my arm. “For a second, I thought you were under some weird illusion that Tops can’t fuck.”

I let out a low laugh. “No, I just recognize danger when I see it.” Even a blind person would sense the risk here. Colt had the ability to drive me insane, I knew that much. “I can already picture myself cursing you for weeks to come.”

“And then jerk off to the memory of me?”

I grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth. “That would be the infuriating part, yes.”

He hummed and dipped lower, grazing his nose along my jaw. “It ain’t about recognizing danger. It’s about what you do once you know it’s there.”

He didn’t have to spell it out further.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

A tremor ran down my spine, and I cupped his jaw and slid my mouth over his. At the same time, he gripped my hips and pressed our bodies together, and I exhaled a groan into the kiss. I didn’t know what was water from the shower and what was saliva, but a wet kiss that tasted of bourbon shot straight to my list of favorites. The kiss deepened quickly, and the urge to take more roared inside me.

I pushed him up against the wall, eliciting a breathless chuckle from him, and ran my hand up his chest. Chest hair wasn’t usually something I cared about, but on him, it was suddenly mouthwateringly sexy.

“Don’t steal my moves,” he murmured huskily. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re gorgeous.” One of his hands glided down my back and over my ass, where he stopped and kneaded the flesh. “Will you bottom for me?”

I nodded and kissed him hungrily. The need grew stronger and stronger when I thought about him taking me, about him getting violent with me. It’d been so damn long since I’d hurt.

“I’m not a fan of spanking or pain from whatever implements you like to use,” I said, breathing heavily. “But I still want the pain.” I brushed a hand over our cocks, pressing them together. “Don’t go easy on me.”

He cursed and sank his teeth into my bottom lip. “I’ll fuck you without mercy. How’s that sound?”

“Like we’re done showering.” I needed him right now.





Four





Colt fucked like a god.

The pain he gave me every time he punched his cock deep inside me sent sparks of fire up my body and turned the pleasure into a live pulse that held me captive. I had to clutch the headboard with both hands to stay in place, despite his fingers digging into my hips in a tight grip.

“Don’t tease me,” I growled when he slowed down. It wasn’t the first time. He’d push me to the edge, take me back down, push a bit further, then rinse and repeat, and it was getting old. I was frustratingly close, my cock was leaking on the damn sheets, and every muscle in my body was protesting.

“I have to,” he panted, pushing inside too slowly. “I can’t stop fucking you. You feel…so…goddamn…good.” He emphasized each word with a thrust.

“You realize we can fuck more than once, right?” I snapped. My annoyance vanished into thin air when he swiveled his hips, and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “Oh God, right there, Colt. Keep going—fuck me.”

He fucked me. He fucked me deep and hard in long strokes, and I fisted my cock to chase my orgasm again.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “Fuck—perfect.” After a painfully hard thrust, he eased back to sit on his haunches, and he hauled me with him. “Move with me. I wanna see you get off.”

I hissed and sank down on him, feeling him brushing against my prostate. My breathing stuttered, and he caught it. He halted me, only to rub the head of his cock over that sensitive spot. Over and over until my moans had no ends or beginnings. He drove me fucking crazy.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on me.” He snaked his arms around me, one hand stroking my chest, one hand taking over for me. With a firm grip on my cock, he stroked me closer to my release while his mouth never left my neck and shoulder. “There will definitely be more than once. I’m gonna wake you up with my cock later.”

I shuddered and felt the pleasure crashing down on me.





The cobwebs of sleep were too comfortable to shake off when I roused to the feeling of a mouth on my neck and two wet fingers circling my ass.

I was mostly on my stomach, with one leg pulled up, arms under my pillow.

“Don’t move,” Colt murmured in a gravelly tone. “I wanna take care of you just like this.”

I hummed and kept my eyes closed. “Take care of me… Kinda like the sound of that right now.”

“Yeah?” He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the spot between my shoulder blades. “So do I.” The heat of his body disappeared for a moment, and I heard him reaching for something. Then he was back. He put a hand towel undernea—

“Gross,” I muttered. “That’s the one you used to clean off my stomach earlier.”

“It’s either this or coming on the sheets.” He gave my ass a light swat. “You big baby.”

I snorted drowsily. “Don’t push it.”

He leaned over me and rolled a condom onto his cock. “Why?” There was a grin in his voice as he nipped at my earlobe. “You’d make a cute little slut boy for Daddy.”

I coughed a laugh and tilted my head back.

He was there and met me in a slow, drugging kiss.

Colt was too much. Funny, conceited, intoxicating, sexy, sweet… And caring.

“Fuck me, Colt,” I mumbled, sweeping my tongue around his.

“Mmm, I will.”

A second later, he drove his cock deep inside me.





I was the one who woke him up for the next round.

I fumbled in the darkness and reached for the bottle of lube, nearly knocking it off the nightstand.

“Shit, darlin’…again?”

“Again.”

I rolled him onto his back and sucked his cock into my mouth, always having loved feeling a cock grow hard against my tongue. And Colt’s was unforgettable. I swirled my tongue around the head and took him deep, tracing the vein along the underside.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he exhaled, weaving his fingers through my hair. “I think I’m outta rubbers.”

I had one in my wallet. “I’m clean,” I said instead.

That got him going. Before I knew it, I was lying flat on the mattress, and he was hovering over me.

I cursed as my stomach flipped.

“Me too,” he replied. “Tell me you want me to come in you.” He grabbed my jaw and pushed his cock against my opening.

“Easy, boy,” I said mildly. Turning my head, I kissed the inside of his palm.

He let out a low growl and kissed my jaw. “Lucas… Let me hear it.”

He was too cute. Even more so when he rubbed our noses together.

We didn’t speak while he prepared me with the lube. We kissed, felt each other, and just lived in the moment. It was incredible. He was incredible.

“Legs around me,” he muttered into a messy kiss.

I hitched my legs around his hips, and then he pushed in. I gasped at the soreness that flared up, but it was quickly replaced by lust and need.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made out with someone like this.

The burn grew stronger as the minutes ticked by, and we kept fucking, keeping the same pace, with as much focus on kissing and touching.

“I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” I chuckled through a groan.

Colt drew a breath and grinned wolfishly. “Good.”

“Sadist,” I whispered and sucked his bottom lip into my mouth.

After…who knew how long, we realized we weren’t going to get off in this position. Three times in a night was a damn stretch. I wasn’t a kid anymore. We were both tired and found it deliriously funny when the other complained about muscle ache.

With me on all fours, on the other hand… He got me there in a few minutes of punishing thrusts and the sexiest sounds.

“Oh fuck,” he gritted.

I pushed back and stroked my cock faster, right on the edge. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple, my thighs throbbed, and my gut clenched as the euphoria dropped lower and lower. Screwing my eyes shut, I poured all my focus onto Colt and his cock pushing in and out of me. The slick sounds we made, our breaths, and how the bed creaked.

“So close,” he hissed.

“Come inside me, Colt,” I moaned.

“Fuck!” He slammed into me with a growl that sent me over.

Pain and pleasure mingled and set off the explosion that robbed me of air and energy. Ropes of come shot out of my cock, and Colt pulsed inside me, the sensation prolonging my own orgasm.

Tremors rocked my body, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I collapsed. I locked my elbow in place and hoped that would work. Colt wasn’t making it easier as he slumped forward, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Fuck. I couldn’t stay upright. I went down with a squeak from the springs in the mattress, and I couldn’t even be bothered to care about where I landed. I’d shower in the morning.

Oh God, he’d killed me.





“I should’ve thought about this last night,” I said.

“You were too busy thinkin’ about me.” Colt sent me a smirk over his shoulder and hung my pants over the towel rack in the bathroom.

Meanwhile, he’d graciously lent me a pair of USAF sweat pants and a T-shirt. “I see how it is. Your jeans are dry, so you clearly weren’t thinking about me very much.”

He laughed.

I smiled and leaned against the doorway. I liked making him laugh, I realized.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, princess,” he replied, “but my jeans weren’t that soaked, and the only reason I hung them over the radiator was because I stepped on them when I went to take a leak around three.”

I made a face of disapproval. “You know what you don’t hang on radiators? Clothes. Wet or otherwise.”

“You sound like my mother,” he retorted.

I shrugged.

Colt walked toward me on his way out, and I stopped him with a finger in one of his belt loops.

He lifted a brow in question.

“Let me take you to breakfast,” I said.

If possible, his eyes were a brighter sea green today. They were stunning. “Sounds good. I’m just gonna fish out my flip-flops for you.”

That made me grimace again, though I was thankful. Flip-flops, as much as I disliked them, were better with sweat pants than a pair of damp dress shoes.

Colt dug out a