Too angry to be exhausted, Ben didn‟t bother turning on the lights as he entered his house. The setting sun cast a crimson glow through the sliding glass doors leading onto the back deck. Throughout the day, he‟d repeatedly tried to reach Vance on his cell but had received no answer. He‟d left requests on the other man‟s message machine at his apartment, but the bastard hadn‟t called him back yet.
Text messaging and voice mails had gone ignored as well.
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Stripping off his stained scrubs, Ben stepped into the shower and let the cool water calm him enough so he would be able to face Vance without wanting to pound his smug ass into the ground.
And face him he would.
As the day had worn on, Ben‟s fear that his lover‟s body would be wheeled into the emergency room after Vance had done something to end his life had dissipated. As vague as the letter had been, the eight years of friendship and what they‟d shared the previous evening had forged a connection between them. If there was one thing he knew about Vance, it was that he took pride in being a marine. And marines weren‟t quitters.
He didn‟t doubt this feeling.
What he did doubt, Ben determined as he slammed his fist against the tiled wall, was his ability to keep from beating the shit out of the hardheaded son of a bitch when he finally showed up.
As Vance pulled into the driveway, the dark house faced him, and he was not sure where to go next. The sun had set when he‟d hit the outskirts of San Diablo. Full darkness had fallen by the time he‟d pulled into the cul-de-sac where Ben‟s house sat on an acre of land. Lights blazed in the other homes in the quiet section of the housing development and streetlights dispelled the shadows only as far as the front walks. After switching off his truck‟s ignition, he palmed the keys and contemplated his next move.
He couldn‟t face Ben at the Club. Not again. As much as he loved the man, he needed to tackle this next task and deal with the fallout before he could go any further.
The .38 now sat on the passenger seat of his truck with the safety on, as useless to him now as it had been the first morning he‟d been out of the hospital, woken from his nightmares, and confronted what he‟d done. He‟d admitted then that taking the coward‟s way out was not an option. The blued barrel and matte black grip were a sharp contrast to the tan leather.
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And her voice seemed to whisper in his ear when he reached for it.
You promised to
tell him.
“I know I did, Aimee,” Vance whispered in the quiet of his truck.
As if she sat beside him, he could see her eyes, so solemn, but a glint of mischief winked every once in a while.
You promised.
It was ridiculous to think she‟d let him use his gun. He‟d known that long before he turned to Ben last night. Not to mention his own conscience, despite the guilt at what he‟d done, would never find adequate justification to end his own life. Whether he was in the service or not, once a marine, always a marine. And marines never quit.
Shaking his head, he snagged the pistol off the seat and secured it back in its holster. “And I left him a letter,” he tried to reason, but a quirk of her lips had him shaking his head.
You said you’d tell him.
“I‟m here—”
The cab light flashed on, momentarily blinding him as the driver‟s door was yanked open.
“You‟ve got some explaining to do,” Ben snarled, the tight grip of his hand around Vance‟s arm barely registered in Vance‟s mind as the older man yanked him from his truck.
The door slammed shut milliseconds after Ben thrust Vance against the extended cab. The solid
thunk
of a fist striking metal and the resulting vibrations against the back of his skull had Vance eyeing Ben cautiously.
In the eight years they‟d been friends, he‟d only seen Ben lose his temper once, but his narrowed gaze and gunmetal gray, almost black, eyes had Vance evaluating the fastest and least dangerous—to him or Ben—escape route in case his lover decided hitting the truck would not be enough.
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“Well?” Ben demanded. His arms crossed over a bare chest. Water beaded his skin and dripped from his disheveled hair.
Vance figured Ben had just gotten out of the shower when he arrived. A glance down confirmed it when he spotted Ben‟s naked feet and the damp fabric at the waistband of his zipped but unbuttoned jeans.
“Well, what?”
“What?” Ben leaned against the truck cab, one arm braced beside Vance‟s shoulder, his voice a feral growl. “Where the fuck do you get off leaving a note like this?”
The paper Ben shook in Vance‟s face looked as if it had been crumpled up and smoothed out several times. “I didn‟t want you wondering where I was when you woke up,” Vance said.
“And this”—Ben shook the letter at him again before pushing away from the truck—“was supposed to keep me from worrying?” Pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of him, he continued to rant. “That‟s a poor goddamned excuse, V.”
Easing away from the truck, Vance pushed the button to set the lock and alarm before he tucked the keys in his pocket. “Why don‟t we take this inside?” he suggested, motioning toward the house.
“Inside or out, Justiss,” Ben growled, “you better have a very good fuckin‟ reason for putting me through this.”
Vance‟s stomach picked that moment to gurgle in displeasure at being ignored.
“Listen, let me make something for dinner while you finish drying off; then we‟ll talk.”
Ben didn‟t bother replying. He released a heavy, drawn-out sigh and stomped up the walk to wrench open the screen and front doors.
Taking a deep breath, Vance rolled his shoulders to try to release the tension gathering there. He really did not want to ruin what he had starting with Ben. And he feared telling him about Aimee would surely destroy it.
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You promised
, she whispered in his ear. The soft gust of wind carried the scent of lavender from somewhere, heightening Vance‟s feeling that Aimee stood beside him with her soft hand on his back as he faced the empty, open door.
“I know, Aimee,” Vance sighed.
Ben slapped the screen door wide open. “Haul your ass in here, Justiss,” he ordered before turning and letting the door smack the frame once again.
Inside the house, Vance leaned down to untie and slide off his dress shoes. Taking his time, he tucked in the laces and set them beside the door. By the time he made it into the kitchen, Vance knew he wasn‟t going to give Ben the information he wanted. His nerves were too raw from the images singing through his head—frightening thoughts of Ben turning his back on him, walking away with his face twisted with disgust—had his need for food dissipating, replaced by the hunger to have his lover close.
As his desire built and his cock swelled in his slacks, he watched Ben move to the refrigerator, pull open the door, and lean down to scan the contents. “I think I‟ve got some leftover lasagna.”
“Maybe later.” Vance stripped off his T-shirt, dropping it over a ladder-back chair at the table.
“You just said…”
As Ben turned to face him, the door of the refrigerator swung closed and Vance crowded him against the counter. He didn‟t give Ben time to react, just pulled his head down and captured his lips in a deep kiss. He grinned at the taste of peppermint. Ben‟s habit of brushing his teeth in the shower had always amused him, but now it was just another reason to make his hard-on even harder.
Ben pulled away. “Damn it, Vance—”
“No.” The fingers of Vance‟s right hand gripped the back of Ben‟s neck as his left moved the zipper of his jeans down. “I‟m sorry.” Again, Vance pulled Ben‟s mouth to his. This time his lips were soft as they smoothed over the other man‟s. “I didn‟t mean to scare you,” he breathed against Ben‟s lips. Sipping at the moisture from his previous Diablo Blanco Club: Under Control
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kiss, Vance eased his tongue inside this time, seducing Ben‟s teeth to unclench and let him delve farther into the moist cave of his mouth.
While his lips seduced, his fingers cupped the thickening length of Ben‟s cock, stroking the smooth skin of his shaft before easing it free of the denim casing. Vance hummed his appreciation at the feel of his lover‟s need. The fact that it matched his own made Vance‟s body pulse with satisfaction. Even better, the grip of Ben‟s hands had moved from Vance‟s shoulders, where he‟d been trying to push Vance away, to his waist. He pulled Vance closer, eliminating any distance between their bodies.
As Vance eased back, his hands dropped to the loosened jeans.
Ben shook his head. “This isn‟t answering my questions, V.”
“But it is, Ben,” Vance assured him as he lowered to his knees and helped Ben step free of the damp denim. His gaze slid over Ben‟s legs, lingered on the jut of his arousal before continuing upward to meet his lover‟s smoky gaze. His hands followed his gaze, smoothing over Ben‟s hair-roughened limbs, enjoying the flex of muscle beneath his touch. “I‟ve been dying for another taste of you since I slipped out of bed this morning.”
He willed Ben to understand not to ask for more.
Not yet.
The gray of his lover‟s eyes grew dark, and Ben dipped his head in a brusque acknowledgment. “That doesn‟t excuse you ignoring my messages.”
The weight bearing down on Vance‟s shoulders lifted slightly. He‟d gotten the reprieve he needed. Judging by Ben‟s expression, it wouldn‟t be for long, but it was there. Returning his attention to the heated length of flesh in front of him, Vance allowed himself to smile. “Let me make it up to you.” His head dipped and his lips caressed the thick head of Ben‟s cock, teasing the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue before stroking over and around it. The flex of the older man‟s fingers through his short-cropped hair had Vance humming.
“Keep doing that, soldier, and it just might buy you some more time,” Ben assured him, his voice low and throaty with arousal.
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The taste of Ben‟s cock skated along Vance‟s tongue, triggering explosions of sensation through his body and hardening his own dick more. The groans and the flex of Ben‟s fingers through his hair only had Vance suckling the heated flesh with increased vigor: to the back of his throat, then out, so only the tip remained between his lips. Vance nipped and teased the glans before lapping at the upwelling of seed at the very tip.
Vance‟s strong fingers gripped the base of Ben‟s shaft, squeezing and stroking upward, stimulating and teasing while his tongue slid over the head. Releasing his hold on Vance‟s silver-threaded hair, Ben gripped the edge of the counter behind his hips and fought the urge to thrust forward and force Vance to swallow his cock.
His lingering anger still hummed beneath his arousal. Despite the teasing he‟d offered Vance, Ben knew the longer his friend avoided telling him what had driven him to write the letter, the more likely he would be to avoid disclosing the secrets hinted at in the missive. He wasn‟t willing to lose his lover, not after having finally gained him.
Drawing a deep breath, Ben released the counter, slid one hand over the fingers at the base of his arousal, and cupped the back of Vance‟s head with his other hand. He was sure every bit of the love he felt filled his eyes as he watched Vance nibble the head of his penis. When Vance‟s blue-green gaze lifted, Ben waited.
“More?” Vance asked, his tongue whispering along the bumps and pounding veins on Ben‟s cock.
Lips quirked up on one side, Ben challenged, “Let‟s see if you can make me forget how pissed off I am with you.”
The warm grip of Vance‟s fingers around the sensitive flesh of Ben‟s scrotum had Ben moaning with pleasure. His lover‟s lips kissed the side of his cock before Vance moved back with a smile.
“If you‟re up for it, babe, I‟m more than ready to make you change your mind.”
Vance chuckled.
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His laughter vibrated around Ben‟s arousal, sending tingles spreading upward through Ben‟s belly. Ben‟s head fell back as his hips thrust forward and he surrendered himself to Vance‟s seduction. The fear of what he‟d nearly lost disappeared beneath the pleasure that flooded his body.
Exhausted and body sated, Ben eased between the sheets on his king-size bed and grinned at the rumpled look of the man next to him. Hair standing in damp spikes from his shower, Vance had his arms wrapped so tightly around the pillow that Ben wondered if the stuffed rectangle would ever regain its original shape.
“You know”—he yawned, switching off the light—“you‟re going to have to devise another way of distracting me.”
“How‟s that?” Vance didn‟t bother opening his eyes.
“You don‟t really win an argument by seducing the other participant.”
“Seemed like—
hunh
.” The yawn seemed to catch Vance unaware. He started again, his eyes firmly shut. “Seemed like a pretty good idea to me.”
“That damned note isn‟t going away. And asshole stunts like you pulled today aren‟t going to get you on my good side, Justiss.”
One of Vance‟s eyes eased open, glinting in the security lights that filtered through the window. “You‟ve got quite a mouth on you, doc. I think you‟ve cursed more in the last twenty-four hours than I‟ve heard you swear in the last eight years.”
“Could be the company I‟m keeping.”
Both eyes came open this time, and Vance reached to push the bedding aside.
“Hey, I‟ll leave if—”
“Get your ass back here.” Ben‟s hand gripped the back of Vance‟s neck, drawing him in for a rough kiss before he pulled back and pressed his forehead to the younger man‟s brow. “I was running scared, V. That letter…”
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Vance‟s hand rose to smooth the mussed waves of Ben‟s hair. The tremor in his touch and the tone of his voice had Ben believing his lover was still uncertain about something. “I know, babe. I‟m sorry.”
“Sorry is one thing, Vance.” Ben settled more comfortably in bed, one arm pillowing his head while the other played along the muscled length of Vance‟s upper arm and torso. “I was sure by the time I reached the ER I‟d be finding some report or have someone mention you‟d wrapped your truck around a tree or that you ate your service revolver.”