Page 58 of The Primary Pest
“That you liked men?” Ajax asked.
Dmytro nodded. “And how out of my depth I was. I wasn’t made for the military, like my father and brothers were. I hate orders. Authority. Going by the book just because the book says that’s what you should do. But I didn’t love being a gangster either.”
“I guess the priesthood was out.”
Dmytro laughed.
“So Yulia…”
“Becamemy religion. She was better than everything around her and I wanted her to have more.” He shook his head. “She was always, always worth more than life gave to her.”
“So you married her?” Ajax concluded. “And came to America and had babies?”
“Not to America. And it wasn’t easy like you make it sound.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I took my life in my hands to get away from being a thug and turned to work as a mercenary. Better, but not exactly honest work. I often went on long-term assignments, but she made my life softer. Our place was a home.”
“And you had the girls.”
“Yes.” Dmytro swallowed. “And then the bloody part of my life and the sweet part collided. There was a bombing. Nothing related to me, except in war it’s all related, isn’t it? While I’m home from fighting for mercenary money in Syria, a terrorist bomb goes off in Germany. I made it out of our apartment with the girls, but Yulia was asleep in the bedroom. I went back for her. There was a wall of flames. I let her sleep in that day, made pancakes with the girls. I could only save them.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Ajax bit his lip when the assassin manifested in Dmytro’s eyes. He’d never seen such a look from the man he’d been falling in love with, didn’t want to see it ever again—the blank, cold, shark-eyed stare of a man already dead.
He didn’t dare push further. He’d already pried the lid off Dmytro’s memories, opened him wider—he was certain—than anyone outside his few work colleagues ever had. He didn’t want Dmytro to relive bad memories. Ajax didn’t want to lead him back to a place where he could lose him forever.
He wished he could take Dmytro’s hand, but that would be awful.
Dmytro didn’t want his pity.
Dmytro shocked him by placing a hand on his foot, as though the comfort of human touch had been denied to him for so long and he needed it so badly any kind of contact would do. Slowly, Ajax stretched out his legs. Dmytro let his fingers drift from his foot to his ankle and up his calf to his knee. There was nothing intentionally erotic about his touch. It was sensual but not provocative. Still, Ajax couldn’t breathe. His heart rattled jackhammer fast. His chest formed a band around his lungs.
Ever so slowly, he turned to his side. Dmytro kept his hand moving up and down his leg.
“If you want, you can rest here with me for a while.”
Dmytro removed his hand to pick up the vodka Ajax had left on the floor by the bed. He uncorked it and took a long drink. “It’s unprofessional. My colleagues will believe I’m in here fucking you.”
“What do you care?” Ajax spoke before he thought. “No. I’m sorry. This is your livelihood. Never mi—”
“I’ll leave the cabin door open. I’m tired anyway. I need a goddamn break.”
Ajax closed his eyes. He waited. Then Dmytro’s body landed behind his, bulky and long. The heat of him was like a bonfire at Ajax’s back. Warm puffs of breath tickled his neck. After a moment, Dmytro pressed his face into Ajax’s skin and inhaled deeply. Sighed softly.
“So tired,” Dmytro muttered. “Need to rest my eyes.”
When Dmytro’s hand snaked around to rest over his heart, Ajax covered it with his.
He didn’t know what this new behavior on Dmytro’s part meant. He didn’t dare guess. Hewantedso goddamn much more. More tender kisses, soft touches, and teasing. A good hard fuck.
He’d hoped to take advantage of their quiet cabin—if only to show Dmytro how good it could be between them. But Ajax wanted Dmytro’s heart too, and he doubted he’d get that by pushing things.
Ajax fell under the spell cast by the gently rolling sea and the moonlight coming in from the tiny window, but he didn’t want to ruin things between them before they could get started by pushing. And making a move, even an awesome one, wasn’t worth destroying his chance to take care of Dmytro—to be there for him and his girls the way Anton had always been there for Ajax.No.
Patience wasn’t his superpower, but he had to let this play out on Dmytro’s timetable. If what was building between them was real, it could be wonderful. It could last. But if it wasn’t, forcing things would kill any other possibility.
Dmytro wouldn’t accept Ajax’s affection, his touch, yet. He didn’t believe he deserved those things, except maybe from his girls. That’s why Yulia had been “armfuls of sunflowers.” She’d been kind to him. Loving. Tender. Maybe empathy was what this anguished, bitter, repentant,decentman needed most of all.
