Page 47 of The Wounded Warrior

Luke could totally get behind that. He really could. He allowed Rory to take the lead this time, to taste him thoroughly. Rory pressed close, bandaged hand cradling the back of his head.

They kissed, changing positions of lips and heads several times to give them more access. It was like being in high school, but only in terms of the anticipation. The action was way better.

The whole idea that there was no one that could interrupt them, that they weren’t doing anything wrong, was even better. No ass kicking. That was a great thing.

He leaned a little closer, almost overbalancing. “Oof. Sorry.”

“No worries. You’re fine.”

“So are you, bud.” Cheesy, but true. Rory was quickly becoming the finest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’ll take it.” Rory scooted closer, tongue tracing his lips, teasing him.

“Mmm.” Now he could lean, and damn, Rory felt good. Hot as fire and solid as a rock to boot. It wasn’t often that a man could take his whole weight, but Rory used his height well. “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Luke murmured.

It had been a few days, but Rory was still tore up.

“Will do. So far, so good.”

“Better than good.” He moved his hand, fingers pressing at Rory’s other nipple through the button-down shirt. Oh, that went hard and stiff, nudging his palm.

Luke wanted to get more of that, so he touched the topmost button that was done up. Sort of a universal question.

Rory groaned and reached out, opened two buttons, and nodded.

That skin was heated, a little damp with sweat, and he touched everywhere he could reach. Then he opened two more buttons, needing this like his next breath.

“That’s it, honey. I won’t break.”

“Promise?” Luke teased. “Every other time we’ve gotten close something awful has happened.”

“No shit on that. I am not responsible for any earthquakes or tornadoes.”

“Me either.” Luke stroked Rory’s chest, then kissed his throat.

Oh. Old Spice. God, that was cute was fuck. Complementary scents. Go them.

He nibbled a little, just for fun.

Rory shivered, then lifted his pointed chin, letting Luke in.

All he had to do was keep loving on the man, which was the easiest thing he’d done since he got out of the Navy.

Rory made the best noises, all rough and wanton, raw. Every new piece of skin Luke touched drew forth another, then another.

“You are a vocal bastard, aren’t you?”

“I am. Weird or a turn on?”

“Hot as hell. I’ve never been able to get loud before.”

“I don’t imagine so. I’m tickled to be able to get loud with you now.”

“Good.” He petted Rory’s hair, fascinated by the heavy stuff.

Rory took his little round glasses off and put them on the end table, then he started unfastening Luke’s buttons too.

His initial instinct was to protest. He didn’t let people look at him. That wasn’t fair, though, so he shrugged out of his shirt.

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