Read Boys in Blue 04 - Knight's Fall Online
Authors: Mia Watts
Looking better than Andy remembered, Knight had his gym-sized duffle hoisted over one shoulder. His cotton shirt tucked neatly into low-slung, snug jeans that were faded in all the right places. His legs splayed like any dominant male and his wide shoulders were accented by the thick wrist sporting a wide plastic banded watch on tanned skin, near his jaw. The white duffle bag strap hooked on his fingers.
Knight’s eyes lit with recognition. “Carrot top,” he said, grinning.
“Hey, quit blocking the door,” someone shouted.
Knight entered the cabin, dropping his much smaller duffel on the bed closest to Andy. Andy nearly groaned. How the fuck was he supposed to sleep with Knight next to him?
Andy should say hi or something. Hand still planted in underwear, he could only watch dumbly as Knight sat on the bunk, propped his forearms on his thighs and leaned over to watch Andy.
“You know there are two other drawers. It doesn’t all have to fit in the bottom one,” Knight suggested.
Heat rose to Andy’s face. Goddamn his pale skin!
“Yeah,” Andy answered, eloquently.
“I only have a few things. Underwear, coupla shirts, pair of shorts and some toiletries in here.” Knight patted his bag. “If you need more space, you can have two of my drawers.”
“Damn, you’re worse than my sister,” a bruiser commented, coming up to join them as he stared in awe at Andy’s clothing dump. “What precinct are you guys from?”
“Seventh.” Knight added, “He’s FBI.”
“Shit. They brought the feds here?” the man sneered.
“That would be the interdepartmental aspect of this exercise,” Andy returned.
Knight laughed.
“Figures a Fed would have to pack his pretty suits and shoes for a team building camp,” the other man joked.
“Not all of us can weave clothing from our own body hair,” Andy muttered.
Knight choked on another laugh.
Andy grinned, though he looked critically at his clothing pile. None of it could be mistaken for a suit.
“Which precinct are you from?” Andy asked, changing the subject. He rose to his feet, wishing he felt as confident as the man in front of him looked. Or even half as pulled together as Knight.
“I’m from the two-fifty-third.” The man actually slapped his chest.
Knight rose too. “Liam Knight.” He offered his hand to the bruiser.
“James Runyon,” the guy said, taking it.
Not offered a hand to shake, Andy dropped his own to his hips. This was going to be a fun, fun week. Clearly. “Andy Powell,” he provided, though no one had asked.
Other men filed in. The room filled with baritone calls. A pillow whizzed into their corner.
Knight raised a brow. “It’s like they’re thirteen-year-old girls.”
James wandered off, shouting louder than the others for vocal dominance. Andy sighed, looking at his pile.
“I was serious about the offer. You can have two of mine,” Knight repeated.
“Thanks. I accept,” Andy answered, unable to meet Knight’s eyes.
What did Knight see when he looked at him? Pale skin, carrot top, diva boy with twelve pairs of underwear since he couldn’t decide between boxers, briefs, boxer-briefs, and sadly, bikini. What the hell had he been thinking? If the crew ever found the shoebox, it would all be over.
Dusk fell. In the distance the small, screened cantina glowed with light. The cooler air had brought haze and every yellow bulb sported a fuzzy halo. The whistle had blown and they were all to report to the eatery for dinner and programme layout.
Liam held back. Andy walked towards the meeting point at the head of the pack and completely alone. The other eight cabins had emptied, and there were definite divisions among the gathering crowd.
Liam recognised a couple of guys and waved. Others did the same. Andy faced forward, chin up, looking neither left nor right as he moved. Solitary, slim, duskily redhaired, and proud, Andy seemed like a walking contradiction.
How did the quiet, vaguely terrified man who’d awkwardly knocked Liam’s beer to the ground compare to this other one? It was almost like Andy tried on outfits. That man at the barbeque, adorable and skittish, had shrugged out of that persona. Since they’d been here, Andy had shown only a glimmer of that man. He’d also shown wit, intelligence, insecurity, boldness, and now a cocky, smug self-possession.
He kept watching Andy. Watched the way he stood with his food tray, one hip cocked and absolutely silent. Watched him pick up his tea glass, sloshing it as though his nerves had jumped when he’d caught Liam looking. Watched Andy squirm on his bench as tables filled around him, then watched his jaw harden with determination when no one sat by him.
Liam ground his teeth. The precinct guys could be such asses. He’d seen it before. Where men gathered it always became a power play. Smaller men were overlooked, their approval unnecessary when other, larger males abounded. It was the fucking nature channel for God’s sake, and Liam wasn’t having it.
Almost angrily, he zeroed in on Andy’s table and loudly dropped his tray in front of him. He made a show of taking a seat and settling.
Andy looked up in surprise, his amber gaze widening, one copper brow rising. Still, he said nothing.
“This seat taken?” Liam asked.
Andy looked around the room pointedly, before delicately scooping some peas and eating them.
“You say a lot for a guy who doesn’t say a lot,” Liam noted.
“What’s there to say?”
“I guess I figured you’d be sending out signals or something.” Liam shrugged before lifting the huge hamburger to his lips.
“Because I’m gay?” Andy whispered across the table. His eyes snapped and his lips curled like he’d tasted something foul. “Do me a favour and don’t mention it here. This isn’t exactly the kind of atmosphere that embraces my lifestyle.”
Liam finished chewing the overly big bite he’d taken which held the pregnant silence between them longer than he would have chosen. Finally, he swallowed. “There are a lot of gay men here.”
“Really?” Andy asked in a droll, dry tone.
“Yeah.” Liam looked around. “The dark haired guy by the iced tea dispenser…the two blond guys at that table sitting in the middle…me…” he trailed off.
Andy sputtered.
“What? You didn’t know?” Liam asked, grinning.
“Had no idea,” he answered roughly through another cough.
“Figured you knew because of the Sullivan’s barbeque.” He smiled at Andy, hoping the revelation was one the man liked. Maybe one Andy would take advantage of. He wouldn’t push the little carrot top away if he made a move. Gleefully, Liam took another bite of burger.
“You weren’t wearing a ‘Hello, my name is Knight and I’m gay’ name badge.”
Huh
.
Not going like I’d hoped
.
Andy continued, “You don’t have the gay vibe.”
Liam frowned, his shoulders tightened. Men who acted like men, looked like men, behaved like men, but liked other men weren’t exactly welcomed with open arms into the flagrantly gay community. They were always underestimated.
Just because he carried himself like a
man
didn’t mean he wasn’t gay. Bad enough to be judged by the straight community, but to be stereotyped by one of his own? His bite of burger dropped like lead into his stomach.
“I get that a lot,” Liam muttered. He took another bite of burger in defiance of the last leaden one. Besides, it gave his mouth something to do besides kissing Andy or snapping at him. Would Andy succumb to the stereotype too?
It must be easier to be
out
when you aren’t constantly judged
, Liam mused. But that wasn’t fair either. He knew Andy suffered scrutiny of a different sort. It was exactly the reason he expected Andy to understand and not make those same predeterminations.
“It’s just that you’re a macho man. I can see you swilling beer, belching, taking up an impromptu flag football game, but sucking down another guy’s cock? I don’t think so. You’re easy on the eyes, but honey, you have no idea what it’s like to be gay.”
Liam put down his burger with disgust. “I thought you’d get it. Guys like me are expected to be breeders. Yeah, I play football and mess with cars. I don’t wax my chest and I don’t mind getting dirty. But tell anyone I like cock and people suddenly treat you like a freak. I don’t slide into a convenient category. Sorry.”
His opinion of Andy slipped a notch, even if his attraction didn’t.
“Probably don’t get a lot of action, either. You’re the guy real gays look at and want, but when it comes to knowing how to get another guy off, they come to people like me. Gays who know what they’re doing,” Andy snapped.
“I’ve never had complaints,” Liam answered tersely.
Andy’s words stung. He’d heard them before and it wasn’t any easier this time around. He didn’t like this Andy. Where was the shy klutz?
“Why would you? You’re pumped full of testosterone. If some twink told you what he really liked, you’d probably go macho ape on him. No. A gay man wants to know his gay cock is being well taken care of. You, Knight, you aren’t gay until people look at you and suspect it. You might be experimental, but gay? Doubt it.”
The slinging judgement hurt and Liam winced.
Not only didn’t the straight community get it, but neither did the gay community. He’d thought Andy would be different. Guys in their field of work hid a lot of personal shit. It wasn’t uncommon to find out a macho sonofabitch you worked with had secrets. Hell, Liam had discovered another three in his own ranks that were like him. They even played on an
out
baseball team against other community organised sports teams.
Andy’s idea of gay required expansion, but fuck explaining it now.
Liam picked up his tray and took it to the kitchen. He had to sit through the presentation, but he didn’t have to sit where he’d eaten. He needed space before he saw Andy again. He needed to order his thoughts about the man before he spent the night less than four feet from his bed.
He was so goddamn tired of judgmental assholes.
Liam looked back. Andy’s gaze locked on his plate as he moved food around. He stole a look at Liam, then drifted his glance over him to take up decided interest on one of the gay men Liam had pointed out.
Classy
.
Though Andy had confused him from their first meeting, Liam had wanted to get to know the guy. Andy seemed to struggle with his identity, like Liam did. But after that last discussion, Liam wondered if he wasn’t projecting.
Attention was called to the front of the cantina. The lights dimmed and an overhead projector flashed a daily schedule on a screen. Two men went over expectations. One was an FBI lead, the other from law enforcement.
Every cabin’s eight residents had equal numbers of FBI, NSA, DEA, and law enforcement officers. They explained that back at their cabins they’d find their partner assignments listed on the door.
Each pairing would be tied to each other around the waist and would work through the week’s challenges, depending on each other for help. The pairings would not be from the same department.
With a sense of dread, mingled with the thrill of hope, Liam wondered if Murphy’s Law would reign and set him up with Andy. What were the chances?
Andy stared at the length of soft cording coiled on his bed and silently thanked Lauren. Though dinner the night before hadn’t gone well, he really did want Knight to himself. Lauren had made sure of it, bless her high-priced, over-sexed ass. He was now convinced that she had the rope in mind when she’d packed the shoebox, too.
He should’ve known that telling her about his instant crush six months ago would haunt him.
Still, of all the things Andy was sure of, it was how to be an agent and how to flirt a man into the sack. Usually, Andy and his bed partners split ways after a night. This time Knight would be his all week. The flirt manoeuvres could develop into something a little more daring to keep Knight interested.
But where to start? Knight strolled out of the bathroom towards him. It was time to get hitched as the orientation to their week of challenges began. The others had already left the cabin and were hooting outside as they trekked to the covered meeting area or the cantina. Andy had waited for Knight to finish showering, his last solo act, before they tethered up.
“So¼” Knight began, letting the syllable drift off.
“So,” Andy echoed.
“Here goes nothing.” Knight pulled off his shirt, revealing his perfectly developed chest.
Every line and bunch symmetrical to the next. Glowing with health and tanned, Knight’s chest was indeed unwaxed. His shorts barely hung on lean hips and rounded ass. Moisture pooled in Andy’s mouth.
“Tie me up,” Knight said cheerfully.
“…and rub you down?” Andy suggested.
Knight shot him an odd look.
Andy kept his over-bright smile in place. His smile was his best feature. He moved in, keeping his eyes locked on Knight’s, letting the other man see his interest when he dragged his gaze to Knight’s lips and held.
He circled Knight’s torso, liberally tracking the cord’s progress with his hands around Knight’s naked waist. Then, pressing the backs of his fingers into Knight’s abdomen, he tied the knot low and loose.
So distracted by trying to look nonchalant, it surprised him when Knight gently lifted Andy’s chin and placed a soft kiss on his lips. That’s probably why Andy made the strange whimpering sound that Knight couldn’t have missed.
“Tease,” Liam murmured. “After your spiteful little tongue last night, I thought you weren’t interested.”
“Who’s interested?” Andy snarked automatically.
He looked into Knight’s eyes and saw playfulness dancing in the dark brown depths. Wishing for another, firmer kiss, Andy leaned in precariously just as Knight bent to the side to collect his discarded shirt.
Andy windmilled wildly, all his weight on his toes. The side of Knight’s hip bumped Andy accidentally and the fight was lost. Andy tried to catch himself, but hit the ground shoving one of the bunks in his decent. The wood on floor grated loudly seconds before Andy’s cheek struck the floor.
“What the fuck?” Knight yelped, leaping out of the way at the last second.
Andy’s cheeks flamed. “Tripped.”
Knight held out a hand.
Embarrassed, Andy knocked it away and stood. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Just remember, we have to help each other this week, so get used to it,” Knight replied tightly. Eschewing the subject just as quickly, Knight motioned towards Andy. “Take it off and let’s get breakfast.”
Andy scraped together his FBI dignity and his sly flirtation. Knight had provided him the perfect set up. “I’m a mouthful, but I don’t think I’ve ever been referred to as breakfast.”
“God, you’re frustrating,” Knight muttered. “Just take off your shirt.”
Andy sent him another suggestive grin. “Yes, sir.” He pulled off his shirt and held up his end of the rope. “Do me?”
Knight rolled his eyes. “You’re capable of tying knots. Hurry up. I smell bacon and I’m hungry.”
Knight drew his own shirt over his head, leaving Andy with the rope. His smile faltering, Andy tied the end around his waist and redressed.
What had gone wrong? Had he imagined that kiss? Fuck, no. A guy didn’t forget the heady feel of another man’s lips touching his for the first time. He sure as hell wouldn’t forget the clean smell of soap or the droplet of water, which splashed his cheek when Knight took that kiss.