4-Bound By Danger

Dedication

As always, for my readers—you guys are the best!

Prologue

The water rushed into the sea cave, pulled out just as quickly, thanks to the current of the rising tide.

Jace and Sawyer sat with their backs against the wall, watching and waiting.

Their mission along the Ivory Coast had gone goatfuck after they’d completed their main objective of recon. It would mean nothing if they couldn’t get their intel back to their CO, and comms had been lost thanks to several storms and the areas constant fighting. After escaping the riots that had broken out twenty-four hours earlier, Jace and his SEAL teammate had headed for the LZ, but pickup was deterred thanks to the continued instability of the area. No one in the military wanted another Somalia, and the SEALs knew that lying low was their best bet.

Jace knew that leaving the safety of the cave right now meant certain death.

Staying here during the high tide also held the possibility of death, but the odds were certainly better.

The past several days had turned Jace into a betting man.

Neither he nor Sawyer was in a position of rest, although they sat to conserve their energy, knowing they might need to swim out to their possible deaths, let the tide take them into the warm and shark-laden waters with strong currents and no safe outlet to swim to shore.

During their days in hiding, which had started before the cave incident, both men had remained quiet out of necessity, planning escape routes and other emergency procedures. Staying sharp, staying on mission point. But another part of Jace’s brain had been actively assessing his life. Couldn’t be helped, and he assumed Sawyer was doing a similar mental exercise.

At least thinking about Tomcat was keeping him warm. He’d met the man a month ago, hadn’t spoken to him for all that long, but long enough to provide fodder for plenty of fantasies.

Jace had lived through much of his bucket list. Being with the teams meant he was strong, sharp and brave, and that wasn’t bragging—it simply was. Without those qualities, he never would’ve made it this far. For most of his life, he hadn’t let anyone or anything hold him back—he did what he wanted when he wanted in his personal life and served his country well.

The only risk he’d refused to take had been approaching Tomcat for more than talking. He hadn’t been a hundred percent sure the guy was gay or bi, but he was sure that he wanted the tough-talking MC enforcer who’d been on scene with the Killers for the past few years. Jace himself had started riding with the group fairly recently, and only to help his cousin Kenny, who’d gotten way too involved with them for Jace’s comfort.

Tomcat was the first guy Jace had really wanted. He’d been with lots of women, and he’d experimented with his bisexuality here and there before the military. But since then, he’d concentrated on the release adrenaline rushes gave him more than on orgasms.

Not that he’d been a monk, but it had been different, more of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am mentality. No one had ever hit him hard enough that he’d actively thought of them in this kind of life-flashing-before-his-eyes situation.

Now, he looked at Sawyer. “Think it’s coming much higher?”

“Yes.”

“How close?”

“It’s going to reach us—just have to hope we can withstand the current and hang on.” Sawyer motioned to a few rocks jutting out overhead. “We’ll have to brace ourselves against those.”

Jace looked up at them and wondered if it was really going to come down to praying.

“God, this sucks,” Sawyer said. “I hate sitting around.”

Only Sawyer would consider this sitting around. Jace was surprised the man had held out this long. Although the men looked similar, their personalities were pretty different. Jace was way more brooding, whereas Sawyer was happy to chat, to share. At first it drove Jace crazy, but he’d grown to accept it more over the past year they’d worked together. He grudgingly realized that having a friend like that was good for him, and he knew they’d both had the same requisite shitty backgrounds that seemed almost necessary to grow balls big enough to handle this job.

“Hey, what have you been thinking about?” Sawyer asked.

“Sex.”

Sawyer laughed, the laugh of a man who’d been caught thinking about the same thing. “Keeps you warm.”

“Yeah.” Jace tucked his hands under his arms, watched the foam come closer before receding. “When we get out of here, I’ve got shit to do.”

“Like what?”

“Tell someone I want to fuck them and hope they reciprocate,” he said bluntly.

“Specific person in mind, or are you just going to walk up to the first person you see and proposition that?”

Jace smiled. “I’ve got someone in mind.”

“Sounds like a big deal.”

Jace wondered if Sawyer would care about the bi thing and decided he wouldn’t. “It’s another guy.”

Sawyer blinked. “Oh. Does he know?”

“No clue if he does. But I’ve never, you know—”

“Me neither.”

Jace looked at him in surprise. “Anything you want to share?”

“Not particularly, but hell, if I don’t tell someone I’ll never move forward,” he confessed. “It’s, ah, someone you know. But not you.”

Jace laughed. He’d started to shiver earlier, and he wondered if they were both in the throes of some crazy, hypothermia-induced state.

Based on what Sawyer had just told him, things began to click into place. Because he’d had the feeling that his new CO had a thing for Sawyer. “It’s Rex, right?”

“Ah fuck, is it that obvious?”

“Not from your end.”

“Are you sure he’s gay?”

“As gay as DADT—repealed or not—lets him be. Doesn’t flaunt it but it’s not a secret,” Jace explained. “Does that change anything?”

“You mean, does it make me less of a pussy? No,” Sawyer admitted. “When did you know?”

“That I was bi? Maybe ten years ago.” Jace shrugged. “I never really had the motivation to do much more about it than mess around, but this thing with Tomcat…it’s killing me.”

“He’s one of the MC club guys?”

“I think he’s undercover CIA, actually,” Jace said.

“Are you doing shit that’s going to fuck up your career?”

“Nice of you to care, but no. It’s weird, but I get the feeling he’s looking out for me.”

They hung on until the fighting subsided and the tides shifted in their favor. By then, their arms were exhausted and shaking from holding on, their nails bloody and their voices raw from talking loudly over the water. Because if they kept talking, kept admitting shit, it would be all right.

They talked about the kind of crap you only say when your life is practically flashing before your eyes even as you try to pretend you’re going to be fine.

Finally, the water pulled back out as darkness descended, and Jace had never been more grateful for the moon in his life. Now it was like a morning after, except Jace knew Sawyer would keep his secrets. He also knew the man a lot better than he’d ever known any friend and vice versa…and for once, it felt right.

“We’re keeping those promises,” Sawyer told him, a hand outstretched, and Jace shook it firmly.

“Yes.”

They left the cave and climbed down the slick rocks, then waded through the low tide and walked along the beach to the LZ, with Jace more determined than ever to find a way to share his feelings.

Chapter One

Two months later

The party was in full swing when Jace arrived. Two weeks back from his last mission and the bruises and other obvious trauma were fading, but his resolve wasn’t.

“Jace!” Kenny gave him a drunken hug when he walked into the bar owned and operated by the Killers, an MC gang with the reputation of being one of the most notorious and the most private. You could join by invitation only, and there was only a symbol on the rockers the members wore, rather than the actual name of their MC club.

Jace was an honorary member, his cousin full-fledged, which was the reason for Jace joining the MC in any way, shape or form. Kenny had gotten a couple more tattoos, including one on the front of his neck, which meant a respectable job was becoming more and more out of the question. “Nice ink.”

“Nacho did it. Said he’d train me.”

The tattoo parlor was another front the club used, and Jace was pretty sure he knew what Kenny would be trained in, and it wouldn’t be learning to ink someone up. “I thought you were still doing construction?”

“Business is slow. I don’t get called that much.”

Because Kenny partied too hard and couldn’t always wake up in time for work. But Kenny smiled and said, “Come have a drink,” and Jace knew this wasn’t the time or the place to continue pushing his cousin.

He looked past Kenny’s shoulder, and his eyes met Tomcat’s across the bar, and Jace swore the man looked at him like he wanted to fuck him.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Then again, his instincts had been on target with the few men he’d fucked around with.

The day he couldn’t trust his own gut was the day he needed to quit the teams, and today wasn’t that day.

The woman who usually hung with Tomcat wasn’t there, although some of the younger women were taking advantage of that fact and were all over the enforcer. One was on Jace, too, eager to help a young man back from battle.

Yeah, that’s what the woman hanging on him said, and while he got the romanticized version some people had, he was also uncomfortable talking about it, especially with civilians.

So he brushed her off, had a shot with Kenny and felt Tomcat’s eyes on him.

But the dark-haired young woman who’d eyed him since he joined was persistent. He’d managed to avoid her thus far, but she was going out of her way not to be missed tonight. She was slurring to the point of unattractiveness, so he extricated himself, assuming no one would miss him as the party continued to go full swing, and headed out toward the garage behind the bar, where the men shot the shit and worked on their bikes.

The last time Jace had been out here fixing his Harley, Tomcat was hanging around under the guise of helping. He’d asked Jace about his current status on the teams, and Jace remembered the concern on the enforcer’s face.

“Cools said you were Army,” Jace had said casually.

Tomcat nodded, and Jace continued, “Let me guess—motorpool? Or clerk?” Both were milspeak for Delta Force.

Tomcat snorted, neither confirmed nor denied.

Now, Jace hoped Tomcat would follow him out to continue their talk, and he wasn’t disappointed.

He looked up from where he’d been rifling through the toolbox. The man was taller by several inches, and Jace was six foot one himself. Tomcat wore a leather jacket over worn black jeans, and his boots were heavy and steel-toed. His hair was long, pulled back in a ponytail, and he’d shaved his normally heavy beard into a more manageable goatee that he rubbed constantly with his fingers like he wasn’t used to it. It still hid a lot of his face, and Jace wished the man would shave it so he could see the lines of Tomcat’s jaw.

God, you’re like a lovesick girl.

Jace tore his gaze away and focused on the bike—it needed an overhaul, but he’d have to settle for a quick tune-up tonight. While he worked, Tomcat began handing him tools, and then they were talking with an easiness Jace appreciated.

There weren’t questions about his bruises or his mental state. They talked about the goings-on inside the club and the party, and then things changed when his hand covered Tomcat’s instead of the wrench he’d been going for. It had been an innocent mistake, because Jace had reached back without looking, but Tomcat yanked his hand back like he’d touched fire before finally handing the tool to Jace.

He used it, then stood and threw it back into the toolbox, the feeling of Tomcat’s hand still on his skin. “It’s tough when it sits for months at a time.”

Tomcat wasn’t looking at the bike, but rather Jace’s bruises, like he was cataloguing them. There was concern in his eyes, even as one of his hands rested on the seat of the bike, fisted, like he was stopping himself from reaching out to touch them.

Jace moved closer, wanting Tomcat to, but he backed away. The power of the chase rushed through Jace, because he knew the man was big and strong enough to take him down if necessary.