LANYON Josh (6 page)

“It was a health resort. People used to come up here for the fresh air and massage and the miracle waters.”

Taylor was rolling his head from side to side on his shoulders, trying to work out a crick. “I wouldn’t mind a massage.” He heard the echo of his voice, and just managed to avoid looking at Will.

After a minute, Will said, “Well, how about a hot bath anyway? Get you nice and warmed up, take the ache out of your muscles.”

Will was already pulling his olive drab sweater over his head, followed by his thermal top, and then his snowy white T-shirt. Beneath all the layers, his chest was brown and smooth, the soft dark hair bisecting his taut, muscular torso and disappearing beneath the band of his camo pants.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We could both use it.” Unself-consciously -- and why should he be self-conscious? They’d
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dressed and undressed in front of each other plenty of times -- Will stepped out of his pants and boxers, lowering cautiously to the man-made cement bench inside the pool.

Hands propped on his hips, Taylor studied him, but Will just sighed and closed his eyes, putting his head back. “Come on, MacAllister,” he murmured. “Relax for five minutes.”

Swearing under his breath, Taylor peeled off his vest, flannel shirt, T-shirt and wriggled out of his Levi’s.

Will ignored him, still soaking, face skyward while the steam drifted up around him.

Taylor slid into the water and yelped, standing up and preparing to jump right back out. “Jesus, it’s boiling!”

Will’s eyes opened. “It’s about one hundred and fifteen degrees.” Will was a stickler for accuracy. He always insisted on looking over Taylor’s reports before he handed them in -- not that Taylor was any less accurate -- but Will was a little bit of a control freak. “Stay still,” he advised. He was flushed and perspiring, but on him it looked good. Sexy. But then Will looked sexy whether he was staring down the barrel of an M4 or eating a sloppy joe.

Taylor leveled him a look but held motionless, giving his body time to adjust to the heat. Finally, he eased the rest of the way down on the stone bench and sank back, the water level rising as he did, sloshing gently back against Will, who stretched his arms out along the back of the tub.

The steam settled on Taylor’s face, and his forehead broke out in sweat. He breathed in deeply, hot moisture invading his nostrils.

Will smiled lazily.

Taylor spread his legs, the water rippling gently with his motion, and let the wet heat suffuse every part of his body. Yeah, that was better. The water was silky soft, and now the heat felt caressing, sinking into every pore, every cavity. Startling, but good. In fact, it was the first time he’d felt really warm in days.

He glanced over and Will was staring. He looked down. His chest was still a mess of scars beneath the soft dusting of returning hair. The scars would fade in time but they were ugly now. He let himself slip lower into the water, hiding the ugliness from Will.

Will’s eyes moved to his face, and Taylor said, “This was a good idea.”

Will nodded.

“Finally,” Taylor added, and Will chuckled and kicked water his way. And because Taylor was lying so low in the water, he took a wave of hot mineral water in the face -- which couldn’t go without retaliation.

A second later Will was the one with his hair plastered down his face. He whipped his hair back and laughed. Water sparkled on the tips of his eyelashes and his teeth were very white.

“You’re living dangerously, buddy boy.”

Taylor lazily flipped his foot, spattering Will with smoky wet.

“Bring it on, cowboy,” he drawled.

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Will dived for him and they grappled amiably, hands slipping on slick bodies, tussling and twisting in the steaming water. They stepped on each other’s feet, but avoided kneeing anything vital, the rough stone scraping their backs and butts -- panting and laughing.

Finally, Taylor managed to wriggle free, and half-lunged, half-waded over to the other side of the tub.

Will turned his head to spit out the water he’d swallowed. “Hey,” he said. “Do you have any protection?”

Taylor bit back a grin, scissoring his legs through the water. “You think I’ll need more than the SIG to keep you back?”

“Funny,” Will said. “I mean, do you have a condom with you?”

He was serious. Taylor stilled. All at once his heart was pounding very fast. He managed to keep his tone lazy as he asked, “Is this a trick question?”

Will said slowly, “Well, we could get it out of our system.”

It took Taylor a moment to absorb that one.

Finally he managed, “Gee, and they say romance is dead.”

“You want to, right? That’s what you said. That’s what it was all about, right?”

Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t just about fucking.”

“No?” Will’s smile was cynical.

“No.”

Will moved next to Taylor on the rock bench, put a wet hand on Taylor’s shoulder, tugging him over. A warm, possessive handprint breaking apart in tiny drops, rolling down Taylor’s skin; it had no power over him -- yet he let himself be drawn into Will’s arms.

“I don’t know about this,” Taylor said gruffly.

Which was kind of funny considering how hard he’d pushed for it on one notable occasion.

And even funnier considering how his body was already reacting to the proximity of Will’s.

Will’s muscular arms felt good about him; the last time he had held Taylor this tight they had been fighting for real, and Taylor had wanted to kill him. But now Will’s arms felt friendly, familiar, and although he was asking for something Taylor wasn’t sure he could give, he felt no need to fight, to force his release.

Will asked, “You want it, don’t you?”

The words came out a little aggressively, and Taylor considered him for a moment. “Yeah.”

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“Well?”

“Well, what? This is kind of a sudden change of heart, isn’t it?”

“I never said I didn’t find you attractive. In fact, I said I
did
find you attractive. I just didn’t think it was a good idea for us.”

“Because we’re partners. And because we’re friends.”

“That’s right.” Will’s gaze was cool and a little hard. “But you disagree. And who am I to argue? Maybe you’re right.”

Taylor’s brows drew together.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Will said. “Ever since that night I haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head. I want you.” His big hand slid over Taylor’s flat belly, fingertips reaching. Taylor’s cock was already stiff and swollen, anticipating that touch. “And you sure as hell want me.”

Yeah, there was no hiding that fact. Taylor bit his lip as Will’s hand fastened around his cock, trying to withhold the revealing groan threatening to tear out of his chest. Just…
that
felt so good. Just Will’s hand on him. But he forced himself to try to think.

“And what happens afterward? Are you going to regret it? Maybe blame me?”

As though in answer, Will’s hand pumped him -- just once -- down and up, fist brushing Taylor’s belly and then sliding up to the sensitive glans. Taylor shuddered all over. “
Will
…”

Will’s hands were moving over him, and instinctively Taylor cooperated, rising and letting himself be positioned between Will’s powerful thighs. He could feel Will’s half-erect cock nudging his backside as Will’s arms around his waist drew him back. And the sad thing was it felt…good having this taken out of his hands. What did that say about him? But he’d been wanting it -- yearning for it -- for
so
long…

“Listen,” Will said, his breath warm and steamy against Taylor’s ear, “we already know each other, care about each other. This isn’t going to change that, but I think it might settle something once and for all. For both of us.”

Taylor was silent. He could feel Will watching him, waiting.

“You really think I’m just curious about what it would be like with you?” he asked finally.

“I think you want me. I think we’ve established I want you too,” Will said. “But, sure, I think there’s an element of curiosity in it, and I think if we take care of that…we’ll be able to get back to business.”

Taylor chuckled, although there wasn’t a lot of humor in it. “Either you don’t have a lot of faith in yourself or you’re seriously underestimating my…charms.” He put his hands over Will’s wrists, feeling the muscles move in Will’s forearms.

Will said soberly, as though he were paying Taylor a compliment, “I know the partnership, the friendship means more to you than…this.”

“That’s easy to say when we haven’t done
this
yet.”

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Will chuckled, his breath tickling the back of Taylor’s neck. “But we’re going to,” he said. Beneath Taylor’s hands, Will’s arms were hard, muscular bands around Taylor’s waist, holding him close, but Taylor knew if he wanted free he could have it in a minute. Will was crowding him, yeah, but he wasn’t going to force him. Taylor could still say no. And if he had any sense at all, that’s what he’d do because Will really had no clue what he was talking about.

But Taylor didn’t push away. Instead he leaned back into Will’s arms, resting his head against Will’s broad shoulder and tipping his face up at the sullen sky. He could feel Will’s surprise, feel his grip change instantly to support, automatically offering Taylor harbor. And it was surprisingly relaxing to…acquiesce just this much. To yield to the combined pressure of Will’s desire and his own. Will’s arms cradled him, his strength reassuring rather than challenging, while Taylor tried to decide whether he wanted to take this to the next level.

Oh, there was no question that he wanted to. But he didn’t want to take this at the expense of further damaging his relationship with Will. And that could so easily happen, regardless of what Will said now --

because Will wasn’t looking at this realistically. Which was kind of funny, considering the fact that Will believed himself to be the practical, hardheaded one. But right now he was letting his other head rule.

“I didn’t bring a condom,” Taylor lied at last, reluctantly -- and started to sit up.

Will’s voice was unexpectedly harsh. “I did.”

Taylor jerked around, water swirling, and Will let him go.

“Is that so?” He couldn’t help the edge that came into his voice. “You always carry one?”

Will shrugged. “I noticed it in my pack last night.”

Taylor absorbed this, trying to remember the last time Will had gone camping and who he’d gone with; he decided he’d be happier not thinking about it.

“Always prepared, huh?”

“Something like that.” Will’s gaze challenged him in some indefinable way.

The idea of Will with someone else settled it for Taylor. Sexual jealousy was the wrong reason to fuck your best friend and closest colleague, but --

He turned his back, pushing against the prod of Will’s erection, instinctively encouraging that stiffening swell, forgetting all about the fact that this was probably a bad idea. Pushing away the thought that this wasn’t even like Will really -- and that Will was probably going to regret it -- and that was going to hurt worse than not doing it at all. Will’s cock scraped lightly down the crack of Taylor’s ass, probing or maybe just moving with the water.

“Is that what you want?” Will’s breath was cool compared to the steam.

He wanted -- well, there wasn’t one single thing he wanted. He’d have liked to bury himself up to his balls in Will’s taut tanned ass, but Will returning the favor would be as good in a different way -- maybe even better because Will might like it more like that, might remember it -- and want to do it again sometime. Besides, just for one hour, he’d like to feel like he belonged to Will. He already knew Will
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didn’t belong to him, but to belong to Will -- would be good. Even if just for a little while.

“Yeah,” he said huskily. “That’s what I want.”

“I want it too,” Will grated. “I want to fuck you. Hard.”

Taylor dipped his head, swallowed. He’d always pictured Will as a gentle lover, playful -- teasing. There was a hint of anger in Will’s tone that he didn’t get, but he nodded his agreement anyway. The idea of Will taking him hard was weirdly exciting.

“Yeah, fuck me,” he whispered. “Hard.”

He jerked in surprise as Will bit his shoulder. It hurt. But then Will kissed the bite mark so sweetly. He shivered. He didn’t want Will kissing him -- that was liable to break his heart.

The smart thing would be to pull away, get himself on the other side of this tub, and laugh it off. But Will’s arm was locked around him again -- he wasn’t going anywhere easily. Instead he lifted his hips as Will’s free hand arrowed down the hard curve of Taylor’s butt cheek, a friendly sweep of caress that ended with one finger poked right up into Taylor’s pursed little hole.

Surprise.

He couldn’t help his body’s instinctive arch and the little guttural moan of stung pleasure.

“Jesus, Will…you could’ve…” But he was suddenly out of oxygen. The stroking motion of Will’s finger made a funny suction with the water, and set the sphincter muscle fluttering in time to the butterfly beat of Taylor’s heart. “
Oh
…” He closed his eyes. That wash of hot water and knowing press on spongy tissue.

Will had big hands. Hard hands. Thick fingers and callused palms, and he was probing Taylor deeply, his touch possessive, knowing.

Too knowing. And abruptly Taylor wanted to fight that exquisite invasion. He didn’t let anyone do this to him. Not ever. He was always the one in charge, the one who called the shots. He was the predator, not the prey. What the hell was he doing giving in to this?

He tried to pull back a little, but Will held him in place and thrust his finger in and out of Taylor’s hole, delicately and ruthlessly finger fucking him. Taylor groaned, trying to angle his body, telling himself he was pulling away, but helplessly pushing back on Will’s hand.