Page 17 of A Simple Mistake
And damn it all to hell—he wanted them safe!
He couldn’t erase their memories or quell the nightmares.There’d always be moments when either boy would flinch, and he hated that.
The most valuable gift Rio had ever offered him hadn’t been a home or his protection.Nor had it been books, green apples, hot chocolate, or a key to his room.Nothing tangible had ever made as much of a difference to Jack as having a choice.
And as much as he wanted to take over, build walls and fences and eradicate threats so no part of his small family ever got hurt… he knew he couldn’t do more than stand ready to help.
Jack tossed back the last of his drink and heaved himself out of the lounger.He’d be working on an ulcer if he didn’t rid himself of this frustration.
Fortunately, Gareth was excellent at helping him do just that.
Gareth set his book aside when he heard Jack on the stairs.A moment later, he saw his suspicions confirmed.Jack’s shoulders hovered close to his ears as he swished past on his way to the bathroom.Gareth might not know what went on in Jack’s head, but he could read him well enough to predict when Jack’s mind put his body on the rack.That Jack came to bed rather than head to his den or stay outside staring at the lights with a drink in hand filled him with warmth.He listened to the sound of the shower and suppressed an impulse to join Jack under the hot water.Rushing gained neither information nor cooperation.And he wanted both.
“You have the patience of a saint,” Jack said when he slid beneath the covers and turned on his side.
Gareth pulled him close, wrapped him up, and held him.“You weren’t ready to talk.”
“True.But then I got bored listening to the thoughts rattle in my head.”
“What were they… um… rattling about?”
“Daniel.Nico.That bloody dance coach.That fire didn’t even cross Nico’s mind when I asked him to design an escape route.The way my instincts are on full alert, and I can’t find a speck of anything.”
“Frustration, then.”
“Yeah.”
Not having all the answers would bother Jack.“One thing they taught us at Sandhurst was that the hardest part of our job was to stand back and look unconcerned.None of us got it.Not then.”
“But you did later?”
Gareth huffed a laugh.“Did we just.”He’d learned that while pushing got results, not pushing got better ones.And yes, watching and waiting sucked, but if he cared about outcomes and the people who mattered, he’d wait for years.“I realised that I’d make a lousy gardener.”
Jack heard him.His shoulders softened, and when he shifted closer, Gareth buried a smile in Jack’s damp hair, hearing him just as well.They’d found ways to deal with frustration.Hard and fast worked.Tortuously slow worked even better.
“Remember our first night?”he whispered into the space between them, not caring that his voice got rougher.
“You’re fucking evil,” Jack groaned.
Gareth slid a hand into Jack’s hair, turned his face up, and kissed him.Jack was right there, mouth open, tongue fighting with Gareth’s.They sucked the air from each other’s lungs, gave and took, and left each other hot and aching.Gareth felt the shivers rolling over Jack’s skin, felt Jack’s erection against his hip, and knew however ferocious Jack’s kisses, hard and fast wasn’t what either of them needed.
“Roll over,” he urged.“Get comfortable.And then don’t.Fucking.Move.”
When Jack complied without hesitation, he knew he’d been right.He fished the lube from the drawer, kicked the quilt out of the way, and then wrapped himself around Jack, fitting them together as if they were made for each other.
It would be nothing like their first night, of course.Then, Jack had been so angry he’d been close to losing control.Gareth had shared that rage and he’d been careful of his every move and touch, praying he didn’t miss any of Jack’s scant signals.
They knew each other so much better now.Well enough for Gareth to tease the sensitive skin behind Jack’s ear with his tongue while giving Jack’s nipples a hard pinch.He revelled in the full-body shiver that got him, then stroked Jack’s skin in long sweeps from collar bones to hip while nipping at his earlobe.
Jack let him play his games of tease and torment, of nip and caress.He held himself rigid, and only the shivers and his rapid breathing betrayed his enjoyment.
It didn’t last as long as they wanted.
Gareth knew all Jack’s hot buttons, knew where to touch, stroke, bite, or pinch.He sucked kiss bruises into Jack’s neck, left finger marks on his hips, and kissed every bit of skin he could reach until Jack’s fingers clenched in the sheets, and he shifted in minute increments to accommodate each touch.His breathing grew into a moan when Gareth returned to the hickey on his neck, and the sound held so much need that Gareth’s insides turned to molten heat, and drawing things out lost all importance.
“You’re a fucking revelation,” he groaned and snagged the lube.Moments later, he had fingers where Jack wanted them, and then nothing else mattered than sending them both into bliss.
Marshalling Forces
