Treading Water (Forgotten Soldier Book 2) Read online

  “Have I told you lately that I think you’re crazy hot?” Julian had to ask because it would be a serious lapse if he hadn’t.

  “Not nearly as hot as you,” Shane corrected, his voice displaying his discomfort with the compliment. The pink tinge of embarrassment was barely visible in the lamp light, but Julian knew it was there and it only made him want to wax poetic about the body on full display before him.

  With every intention of doing just that, Julian was dumbfounded to see his beloved Vans sail over Shane’s shoulder. Thoughts of praise turned to outrage that morphed into bliss when Shane began massaging his sore feet. He was a tired, achy, sweaty mess whose last shower was more than twelve blistering hours ago and his naked lover was massaging his feet like it was nothing when, in fact, it was everything. More than. If anyone had reason to be grateful, Julian felt it was him and he didn’t know how he wasn’t already sobbing out his gratitude in great, big, ugly gasps.

  Oh wait, yes, he did know. Shane was magic and he was weaving spells of contentment that gave all those overwhelming feelings a safe place to rest.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” Purring like a kitten, the accusation sounded more like awe. That made sense since he was totally awed that this man who once thought he had nothing to give could shower him with more affection than he ever received from all his past relationships combined. “Shane.”

  “Hmm?” Shane made a fist and worked over the arch of one foot with the hard points of his knuckles, robbing him of all coherent speech. “Feel good, baby?”

  “Uh huh.” Good was such a tame word for what was happening in his body. It felt like his dick grew a little more for every muscle that softened and that endearment was making it hard to remember why he wasn’t shouting his love from the rooftops.

  When he finished with the second foot, Shane turned it out gently and ducked down to kiss the inside of his ankle. Of all the non-erogenous zones, that one packed a surprising punch, as did the look of adoration as he transferred his attention to Julian’s legs. Shane watched him as he worked and, though he hadn’t lost his smile, Julian could see something was on his mind. The urge to ask was there, but he was prepared to wait until Shane was ready and was surprised when he started talking so easily.

  “This is going to sound strange, but I’ve been thinking about my parents a lot lately. You know, when my mom died, I was mad at her for leaving us and really pissed off at my dad for closing himself off.” Shane shook his head as if feeling that was somehow shameful and Julian couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on a ten-year-old boy. “I didn’t understand how much effort it took for him not to follow her immediately or how much he must have loved me that he chose to stay knowing he would have to live without her. Do you know when I realized it?”

  “When?” The word was barely a croak, but the unexpected topic threw him. Already running on reserves, all those subdued feelings rushed to the surface in reaction to Shane’s pain and there was no way for him to hold back the tears.

  “Tonight, when I looked around at the men I’d fought beside my entire adult life and saw the man I love among them. The way you welcomed them into your home, the acceptance they showed in return…it was everything.” Shane reached the edge of his shorts and tugged. Powerless to speak, Julian automatically lifted his hips when all he wanted to do was beg Shane to continue. “There was never a time when I thought I could have it all or that the choice was even mine. Not until you showed me something I didn’t think was real.”

  He heard all the words, of course, and absolutely needed to correct that ‘your home’ to ‘ours.’ But everything after the all-important L-word was a blur as his shorts and briefs joined the haphazard array of clothes and then Shane was coming over him in a slow slide of heated skin across heated skin. Overcome with the need to return the sentiment, he cupped Shane’s face and held him just far enough away so that they could see each other’s eyes. “I love you, too.”

  Julian didn’t know exactly what he was expecting reaction-wise, but the caution wasn’t that big of a surprise. Behind the very confident, if closeted, Naval Officer was a man desperate to be loved openly, without reservation, and not out of obligation. The part of Shane that wanted to believe he meant those words wholeheartedly would war with the insecurities that had dogged him since he was a child seeking an emotion his father had been incapable of giving. In his haste not to scare Shane, Julian had held back so that he could come into that feeling on his own. Realizing he should have said it first, he hoped he had the words to prove it.

  “Two months ago, we sat on the side of the highway and you told me it was okay to cry. I haven’t stopped falling for you since.” That probably didn’t make much sense and some might scoff that was too soon, that if it weren’t for Sean’s meddling it wouldn’t have happened, but Julian knew better and he hoped Shane did too. Sean may have planted the seeds, but he couldn’t make them feel.

  If he were the praying kind, Julian figured this would be a good time to send up a smoke signal. Thankfully, that proved unnecessary when Shane’s smile bloomed as bright and trusting as he could have hoped for, and with it came a need to express the feelings they had finally given voice to. Using his hold on that handsome face, he pulled Shane down for a toe-curling kiss and whispered, “I hope you didn’t forget where you left off.”

  “Tell me if this jogs your memory.” The reminiscent words made them both smile as Shane pushed back until he was kneeling between Julian’s thighs and continued massaging the taut muscles. It felt amazing and frustrating at the same time. Each pass brought Shane’s fingers that much closer to his groin and Julian kept shifting to get closer, to make himself more accessible, until he was obscenely spread across the bed.

  “Shane, I need you to… just a little to the…oh, yes, there.” A warm hand cupped his balls as knowing fingers teased the tender skin behind them. Another stroked his cock and, just like that, all was right with his world. With every vulnerable inch of him at Shane’s mercy, Julian could only writhe and whimper and beg, knowing it was all music to his lover’s ears.

  Keeping his touch on the wrong side of too light, Shane edged him slowly, pushing him in short bursts until he wanted to scream. Then those hands were gone and he really did scream. Of course, Shane just chuckled and reached over to the nightstand where they kept the lube. Evil smile firmly in place, he tipped the bottle and poured generously, filling his palm with slick before rubbing his hands together to warm it up. It was only a few seconds, tops, but the agonizing reprieve only made Julian more sensitive when Shane touched him again.

  If he thought the foot massage was heaven, this was like working through all seven circles of hell. Lubed hands worked him over from the leaking tip of his dick to his hole, but it was all the ultra-sensitive millimeters in between that threatened to push him over the edge. Julian didn’t think he could open himself up anymore, but there he was trying desperately to have Shane touch him everywhere at once and those big hands felt like they could almost accomplish it. Then—holy fucking fuck—Shane squeezed his dick in one hand and thrust two fingers inside him with the other. There was no warning and his traitorous body gave way without much resistance, leaving Julian no time to grab the headboard before Shane started jerking him fast.

  “Shane…Shane…please…” The words were stuck on loop and getting increasingly louder, and Julian was beyond caring who heard. Nothing else mattered except the orgasm barreling toward him and the man making it happen. He was so close, it was right there and then… As abruptly as he started, Shane pulled his fingers free and grasped the base of Julian’s dick in a punishing grip. “No! Shane, come on!”

  Julian didn’t know when Shane perfected the art of the evil grin, but it was damned annoying. Chest heaving and body vibrating, he tried to maintain his glare when Shane rolled him over, stuck a pillow under his stomach, and spread him wide. When more lube was drizzled between his cheeks, he summoned up his most dramatic sigh and shot one more mutinous glare
over his shoulder. Not that Shane was buying his upset for a second. With two hands kneading his ass, Shane leaned over his back and taunted, “I know you like when I play with you.”

  “Maybe.” He totally fucking did and, yeah, they both knew it. Just like they both knew his grumbling about it made it last longer. This edging stuff was the hottest thing anyone had ever done to him and it totally fed Shane’s need to touch. To know he was allowed.

  “Maybe?” Blunt thumbs circled his hole, round and round until Julian’s hips were gyrating against the pillow in tandem. Then one hand slipped between his legs, gliding over the sensitive skin of his perineum and balls until it wrapped around his cock, giving him something to hump into. Of course, it wasn’t quite tight enough, but it was a damn good start. “Fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I love when you dance for me.”

  “Love you.” The whispered words barely made it past the pillow he was biting, but they earned him an instant reward. That teasing thumb pressed inward, breeching him easily, and Julian’s hips snapped up to take it in as deep as it would go. At the same time, the hand around his cock squeezed and they both groaned as he rocked between fist and thumb, hips sawing madly as if he could somehow beat Shane to his orgasm…all the while praying he’d fail.

  Shane came over his back again until Julian could see his face. Expecting a litany of dirty talk that would push him harder, his whole body shuddered when Shane whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Thoughts of prolonging their lovemaking fled in the face of that earnest declaration and he could see Shane was right there with him. One punishing kiss later, Shane scrambled back and released him just long enough to snatch a condom off the night stand. In the time it took to think he really needed to get tested so they could do away with those, Shane was sheathed, slicked, and sliding that heavy cock into his welcoming body.

  Two strong hands gripped his hips, pulling him back and up, and then Shane was giving him exactly what he needed—a hard, pounding ride. Julian gripped the pillow beneath him for purchase and rocked into each thrust, needing to do more than just take it. He was a willing, eager, desperate participant in every aspect of their relationship, even when he was following where Shane would lead.

  “Not going to last.” The warning was ripped from him when Shane wrapped a hand around his throat and guided him up on his knees. Then Shane was nudging aside his hair and sinking sharp teeth into the tendon below his ear. “Oh, fuck me.”

  “Jerk your cock for me,” Shane begged as he soothed the spot. “Come on, Julian, let me hear it.”

  It took two embarrassing tries to grab hold of his own dick but, in his defense, Shane was railing him something fierce. When he finally had it, he knew it was game over. In the cacophony of grunts and groans, gasping breaths and slapping skin, the sound of his hand sliding along his cock was negligible, but it wasn’t really the sound they were listening for. It was his need to fulfill Shane’s wishes and the whine he couldn’t contain, and the way his body clenched so tight it would finish them both off.

  All leading to the moment when he shouted Shane’s name as his body erupted. Behind him, Shane’s reverent whisper felt just as loud as he ground against him, drawing out the pleasure until they were wrung dry. A gentle kiss brought them full circle as Shane eased him back down on the pillow and took care of cleaning them both. There were more whispers, a scuffle for the blanket, and then he was sinking into the warmth of Shane’s arms.

  Sated soul deep, Julian was almost asleep when he remembered to ask the important question. “Shane? What didn’t you think was real?”

  Shane was silent for so long that Julian thought he was asleep and when he finally answered, Julian actually felt his heart break. “You, Julian. I didn’t think you were real. In what world could there possibly be a man who would accept and love me even though I was too much of a coward to love him openly? That’s the definition of an impossible dream and you didn’t stop there. You inspired me to be brave and made me a man to be proud of. One capable of introducing his future husband to his crazy group of frogmen with his head held high and his heart bursting with an emotion he didn’t think existed.”

  Julian knew he should say something. He needed to make Shane understand that he hadn’t done any of those things. If anything, he’d simply given Shane the room to find them within himself. But his lover…his future husband…knew him well. Shane rolled and tucked him in tight, soothing him while providing a haven for the emotions that finally broke free.

  Together. They’d work it through together because Shane promised him and because, with or without his ability to speak, the yes was always implied.

  Chapter 20

  November 1, 2016 - Sean

  Email had become the bane of his existence. After finally blocking Julian’s parents, another pain in the ass showed up in his inbox. Apparently, Julian had a friend who knew a guy who worked for a company that adapted boats for wheelchair users. From simple guest accommodations to fully modified pilot houses that would allow him to take the controls, there was no denying his one-time dream wasn’t dead. Or so they would have him believe.

  When the messages started coming in, he devoured every single one. For weeks, he researched—following links, saving pictures, and he even asked Julian to get him a notebook to organize all the information. As the details began to take shape, he worked up a rudimentary business plan with design ideas, cost analysis, and timetables. Every night when Shane came home from work, the three of them would brainstorm over his notes and Sean could feel their relief that he was finally showing interest in his own life. Though he didn’t say it aloud, he was right there with them.

  Like the stalwart cheerleaders they were, they found a way to encourage him every day and with their support, he’d begun to believe. It would take time and money—the first he had plenty of and the second would be a joint effort—but they could be operational within a year. Right about the time Shane would be retiring. They couldn’t have planned it better and when Sean saw how easily each piece could fall into place, he became excited and that terrified him.

  Why? It was anyone’s fucking guess at this point and he couldn’t find the words to explain what was going through his head. Not to his counselor, not to Shane and Julian who looked absolutely crushed when he stopped talking about it, and not to himself. There was no logic behind the fear, no facts to support it, nothing but the churning in his gut and his own fucked up head.

  The emails continued despite his lack of responses and he pretended to ignore them much the same way as he did the emails from the Brands. He would read them, wonder what-if, hate himself for being a pathetic wuss, then hate the process and hit delete. The cycle had everyone around him concerned, so he’d taken to ignoring them too.

  Instead, he parked his not-so-happy ass in a lounge chair in the sun. Which turned out to be not as much fun as the guests as The Sandy Feet Inn would have him believe. Used to long days that pushed him beyond his limits, this sojourn in paradise was turning into the extended vacation from hell. Antsy, in need of something to do besides being the inn’s rolling entertainment—but refusing to actually do anything— Sean was making himself crazy.

  It didn’t help that his legs remained unresponsive, leaving him wondering if the things he felt were just in his head—where every other fucked up thought seemed to live. No matter how many times his physical therapist worked him through it, Sean wasn’t convinced. Because it had become such a big issue, he was always braced to be touched and that obliterated the element of surprise. In his own skewed version of the chicken and the egg, he couldn’t be sure if he felt the hand before he saw it or not. Asking anyone else to help him test it was pointless because he would constantly be waiting for them to try. The whole thing had become a frustrating, no-win situation, and another concern for his cheering squad.

  “You’re brooding again.” The blunt observation was almost the last straw.

  Shielding his eyes from the sun, Sean looked up to see Esme standi
ng over his lounge chair, her dark eyes appraising and Sean couldn’t shake the impression that he was coming up lacking. They’d been dancing around each other for nearly two months, sometimes flirting the way they used to, but mostly avoiding the things best left unsaid. He didn’t need to look past the mirror to remember why that was best. Wildly overgrown hair paired with a scraggly beard changed his reflection drastically and it was easier to believe that was the reason he felt like a stranger in his own body than to face the truth. Still, it was one thing to know he was acting like a loon and quite another to have the woman he let slip away witness it.

  “Still brooding,” she muttered like he needed the reminder. News flash, he didn’t.

  “I had my eyes closed. For all you know, I could’ve been sleeping.” The snide remark lacked his typical charm and Sean cringed. Another idiot-ism for the soundtrack of ‘Stupid Shit Sean Says.’ Damn thing insisted on serenading him to sleep every night and he’d yet to find the pause and erase buttons.

  Undeterred by his attitude, she rolled her eyes and waved a hand in his general direction. “The whole surly mountain man thing was cute for about a minute, but I’m over it.”

  Sean couldn’t resist firing back, “You still think I’m cute.”

  Instead of scoffing, Esme admitted, “Yeah, maybe beneath all that scruff and gruff.”

  Dumbfounded by her honesty, Sean could only watch her walk around his wheelchair and take hold of the handles. It was locked in place beside the lounger, perfectly positioned for him to transfer to, and he couldn’t imagine why she was messing with it. “What are you doing?”

  “Holding the chair.” She might not have added ‘you moron,’ but Sean heard it anyway.

  “Why?” Maybe he was a moron because Sean couldn’t figure out her end game and he really didn’t like her hands on the chair. At a hundred pounds soaking wet, she should be no match for a man his size, but she could level him by moving the chair out of reach.