Page 37 of Enemy Within
Damn it, he should have swum across the river.
“Jack, come back.”
Static, and the warble of dead air, a high-pitched whine over their secured radio channel.
It’s going to be okay. Jack is strong. He knows what he is doing. It’s going to be okay. I believe in him.
His fist closed around the steering wheel again, clenching until his knuckles went white.I believe in him.
“Jack, come back.”
17
Southern Siberia
WARMTH COCOONED JACK, wrapped around him, a fuzzy hold that enveloped him from head to toe. He sighed, relaxing into the gentle heat. He’d thought he would never be warm again.
His thoughts were honey-slow, fuzzy with exhaustion. His body ached, a bone-deep weariness that he felt in every nerve, every particle of his being.
But he was warm.
Arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. Slowly, his senses came back, touch and smell revealing the press of a body against his own, his cheek resting on a hard shoulder. His arms around another waist. Legs twined together.
Ethan. Smiling, Jack nuzzled into the warm body, pressing his lips to the skin beneath his cheek. His hips rolled, searching. Ah, yes. There it was. An answering hardness, matching his own. It had been so long since he and Ethan—
“Jack.”
Desire fizzled, vanishing with a snap, leaving nothing but a frisson bursting off his veins, gone in a breath.God, Sergey!
Everything came back: their drive into the mountains, the argument. The murderer, Milos, stalking them up the ridge. Dodging gunshots. Sliding into the ravine. Running down the frozen creek. Falling into the ice.
Cold, unbelievable cold. Thinking he was going to die, when he could think at all. Snippets of time. Stumbling with Sergey, and falling to the snow. Fading in and out of consciousness as he dangled over Sergey’s shoulders, listening to him scream with every step.
And then nothing. Until waking up with Sergey, naked body pressed to naked body.
Sergey must have stripped him to warm him up. Shared his body heat. God, Sergey had saved his life. And he’d—
Closing his eyes, Jack tried to pull back. Sergey’s arms, and the mountain of blankets piled on top of them, kept him pinned. “Sergey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know where I was.”
“Jack…”
A note of pleading in Sergey’s voice made him pause. Frowning, Jack found Sergey’s gaze.
Raw desire bled from his friend, quiet desperation mixed with terror.
He blinked slowly, his thoughts coming together like trains crashing head-on in slow-motion.Sergey is hard, too.His cock pressed against Jack’s hip.
He opened his eyes again. Looked up. “Sergey?”
Sergey’s lips trembled, pressed together like he was trying to keep them closed, keep something back. His eyes gleamed, shining too bright, wet, and a flush rose on his cheeks, reddening his skin down his neck, across his chest.
And then he crumpled, collapsing in on himself like paper burning to ash, disintegrating into a million pieces. Sobs wracked through him, quaking his shoulders, ripped out of his chest. His hands shook and clung to Jack’s shoulders as he folded in half, curling until his forehead touched Jack’s. “I am not brave enough,” he whispered through gritted teeth, between heaving gasps, anguished drags of air. “I am not brave enough.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack reached for Sergey, cradling his cheeks, turning his face upward. Sergey’s eyes closed. He wouldn’t meet Jack’s gaze.
“I am not a brave enough man,” he breathed. “I am not like you. Or—” His face twisted, and a new sob ripped from him, choking his voice. “Or Sasha.”
“Sergey…” Confusion strained Jack’s voice, his thoughts. He shook his head, frowning. “Are you saying you’re—”
