Page 48 of The Wounded Warrior

“Oh.”

“Is that good or bad?” It was his legs that were the worst, but nothing had gotten away unscathed.

“God, you’re built like a brick shithouse.”

Luke snort-laughed at that. “I’ve been working my upper body something fierce to make up for what I’ve lost in the legs and stuff.”

“It shows. God, I could get on my knees and worship you.”

“If you weren’t all beat up I’d let you.” He pinched Rory’s nipple. “For now we just play.”

He felt daring as fuck, like he was ten feet tall and bulletproof, seriously, flirting with this man. Hell, he felt sexual for the first time in an embarrassingly long while. Luke was gonna ride that for all it was worth.

“Right on. Just play. And kiss. Lick. Suck a little.”

“Yes, please. And then some.” He stroked down Rory’s ribs, hoping he wasn’t ticklish. Rory stretched up, the move careful but willing.

He reached those hips and touched carefully, then traced in along the line of Rory’s waistband to the button. Rory sucked in, the offer just clear as glass.

Luke nodded, mouth dry as dust, and undid the button before tugging at the zip. He fumbled a tiny bit because he didn’t want to tear anything or get stuck on briefs or any of the other stuff that brought down a good make-out session.

Rory, he had to admit, was damn patient, easy in his skin and willing to let him find his way.

The pants struggled with him a bit, the cloth stiffer than Luke expected, but he got his fingers in there, discovering soft boxer briefs.

“Silky,” he muttered under his breath. “Decadent.”

“You should always have things that feel good next to your penis, Luke. One of the basic tenets of life.”

“The Navy disagrees.” Luke stroked Rory through the cloth.

“What does the Navy know about seamen?” The tease would have been better if Rory’s voice hadn’t been husky and rough.

“Not much,” Luke said. He found the opening in the boxer briefs and touched skin, moaning at the heat he found.

“Oh, fuck.” Rory arched a little, lips parting, eyelids dropping closed.

“Uh-huh. I mean, eventually. Right now, I want to see you.” He slipped his palm underneath that hardness and pulled Rory’s cock up and out.

Long and lean, just like the man himself—Rory filled his hand with heat.

“You approve?”

“Hell, yes.” He grinned into those bright eyes. “Fishing for compliments.”

“Absolutely. I’ve been presented with this gorgeous body. I need reassurance.”

“Shit, Rory, you’re amazing. And this is a work of art.” Luke stroked up and down, gentle to begin with.

Rory arched for him, driving nice and slow into his hand. That was perfect, the way Rory took what he wanted, showing Luke what he wanted.

“I swear to God, you’re gonna send me over the edge.”

“So? I want to see what you look like when you come.” Herubbed the head with his thumb, then pressed at the underside just below the flared tip.

Rory grunted, and his hips bucked up. Oh. Hot spot.

Luke massaged it again, really pushing it, feeling damned powerful. He was doing this. He was making Rory arch and moan, making the sweet son of a bitch need. He could do this forever, just stay right here and touch.

---