Catching Eagle's Eye (2 page)

Dane coughed to clear the passion lurking in his throat. “Do whatever you need to, Ensign.”

Chadwick answered with a quick smile before clasping the injured leg and sending a sharp pain up Dane’s leg. Dane bit back the grunt desperate to escape and fixed his gaze across the room while his leg was lifted, pulled, and rotated. At least the discomfort helped to ease his hard-on. He might like to cause pain in his willing subs, but he was no masochist himself. Even when the therapist wasn’t causing him to hurt, however, the touch of the other man had an equal, if opposite, effect. Those gentle fingers lit up his pleasure centers just as much as the pain ones. His cock responded with alacrity, so by the time Chadwick had carefully replaced Dane’s foot on the floor, the erection was somewhat back.

“Okay, I’m done torturing you for the moment, sir.”

Dane forced a casual nod of his head in response. “It was fine. I’m fine.”

****

Sure, you are. Will could see the white lines of stress around his patient’s eyes. God save him from the macho types who wouldn’t admit to being in pain if their life depended on it. SEALs were the worst, always trying to pretend like everything was A-okay even when half a leg was missing. This lieutenant was the epitome of the damn-the-torpedoes types. Will could tell that from across the room. Tall and jacked with dark, wavy hair that was long enough to confirm the guy had been OCONUS, trying to blend in more with the locals even if his injury hadn’t indicated his recent deployment.

It didn’t take his Special Forces status, either, to tell Will that this was a man who took command. He could only imagine what being under Sawyer’s control in bed would be like. God, this was his fantasy man, pure and simple, except this wasn’t anything like simple. He was a patient and probably straight as an arrow. That boner he was throwing in his pants didn’t mean anything, either. It happened to a lot of guys when they were being touched in ways that their bodies could interpret as erotic. It didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

The intense stare was harder to dismiss, though. The officer gazed down on him as if assessing how tasty Will might be. The attention sent shivers down his spine, the kind that heated his blood instead of cooled it. Arousal stirred in his own pants, and he needed to head that off at the pass because a patient getting hard was one thing. You couldn’t blame them, especially given the mental state of a lot of the people he treated. The therapist, however, was abso-fucking-lutely not supposed to be turned on by the person he was treating.

Of course, Lieutenant Sawyer wasn’t his typical patient. His injury had left him in need of therapy, but he would fully recover in no time. No life-altering injury was clouding his judgment or making him vulnerable.

And now Will was trying to rationalize his reaction to the guy. Dumb and unprofessional and just the sort of thing the wingnuts would have a field day over given the repeal of DADT. He wasn’t some oversexed pervert just because he was gay. It had been such a relief to be able to be open about his sexuality. Even though it didn’t mean he had to be some paragon of virtue, he did owe it to himself and the guys he worked with to be professional. It would be the same way if he were straight, he wouldn’t go around sprouting wood over a woman patient.

Falling back on the comfort of his standard routine with a new patient, Will put aside his wool-gathering about any attraction between him and Sawyer and outlined the process of evaluating what exercises would be appropriate for the lieutenant’s injury. He stayed kneeling on the floor as he did so, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be at this man’s feet and offering up his commitment to help him get back his full strength.

Sawyer simply sat, nodded, and grunted through the monologue to indicate he was listening. But his dark brown eyes told a different story. Still locked intently on Will’s, they held promise of something exciting. Will couldn’t keep back the blush that crept up his face. When he finished his usual spiel, silence reigned as the two men stared at one another.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Just like that, the connection between Will and the lieutenant was broken by the arrival of another therapist. Sawyer swung his gaze away in a bored fashion, as if he were waiting for a bus and looking for something to hold his attention. With an irritation that was unfair but real nevertheless, Will looked at the other therapist.

“What’s up, Jenkins?” He tried to keep his tone pleasant. Given the way the other man looked at him, he wasn’t so sure he had succeeded.

A clipboard was held out to him. “Would you mind taking a look at this new routine I have for Seaman Nieves?”

Oh, right, this was his job. He was supposed to be consulted by the more junior personnel. It wasn’t Jenkins’ fault that despite every intention to the contrary, Will had been acting as if he were trolling at a bar. Taking the offered document, he scanned the new therapy routine for a double amputee that wasn’t making as much progress as they had hoped.

He nodded and returned it to Jenkins. “Looks good. We’ll talk more about it later.”

“Thank you, sir. Ah, sorry to interrupt.” Jenkins retreated with a shy twitch of his lips.

“No problem,” he replied and turned his attention back to Sawyer. “Sorry for the interruption, sir,” he said in echo of Jenkins’ apology. “I’m the senior therapist on duty so people consult with me on a regular basis.”

The man shrugged and trained those intense eyes back on Will, although whatever he might have thought he’d seen in them earlier was gone. Instead of interest, there was resignation with a hint of impatience. Will knew that look, of course. PT was hard work, but for someone as used to being in the thick of action as a SEAL, the problem was undoubtedly more about how boring it was. Not a lot of fun came from cautious repetition intended to achieve results in a slow and steady fashion. The officer’s response confirmed his thoughts.

“Let’s just get this show on the road shall we, Ensign? I want to be cleared to go back in the field ASAP.”

Standing up, Will said, “I understand, sir. I promise I’ll get you back into shape as quickly as your body can tolerate.”

Sawyer stood, too, and points for the macho man when he managed to hide the pain it caused him. It manifested in a mere twitch of one corner of his mouth. A less observant person would have missed it, but Will’s job included knowing when to call it a day with a patient. Many of them tried to overdo, as if recovery could be sped up with sheer grit and determination. He had no doubt Sawyer would fall into that category.

Well, dealing with stubborn or aggressive patients was his specialty. So long as he could keep his focus on his job and off the fuckability of this particular patient, everything would be fine.

And, given how indifferent Sawyer was acting now, Will became convinced that any attraction he had sensed in the other man had purely been his own wishful thinking. Good. Great, actually. He had no illusions of recruiting straight guys to play on his team. Their relationship would be strictly professional.

“This way, if you would, sir.” Will led the other man to the first piece of equipment he wanted to try.

Sawyer filed in behind him, and damned if it didn’t feel as if those eyes were boring a hole through his back. His backside, actually. Ridiculous. Hadn’t he just decided that there was no interest on the lieutenant’s part? What an idiot he was being.

He needed to get laid, that was his problem. It had been months since he had hooked up with anyone. He lived and worked in an area that was great for gay nightlife and, with his sexuality no longer a career ender, he could go out with impunity. He was off in two days’ time. He’d go out and find some hot guy and get a hard ride.

When Will reached his destination, however, he turned to Sawyer and lost all train of thought. The heat in Sawyer’s gaze was back, he was sure of it. It coiled its way around Will’s throat, making it hard for him to breath, before slithering down to grab him by the short hairs. Blood pooled in his groin, and he knew a moment of terror as his cock twitched to life.

With extreme willpower, he held the arousal at bay and forced his thoughts back to the job. It took a couple of tries and a bit of throat clearing to find his voice and explain what he wanted his patient to do. Without a word and acting as if nothing untoward was happening, Sawyer lay down on the bench and started his exercise.

****

Sweat drenched Dane’s shirt by the time his adorable torturer, aka Ensign Chadwick, took pity on him. Jesus Christ, how embarrassing to be so overtaxed by such simple exercise. He’d tried to keep up the façade of his leg not bothering him too much, but a few repetitions of the first machine had reduced him to grunts and groans. Less than an hour later, he panted as if he were in the middle of BUD/S training again.

Good thing none of his teammates were there to witness this pathetic showing. He was being a dick about it all, a real crybaby even though he was crying only to himself. Intellectually, he knew there was no shame in having been injured and needing PT. Emotionally, however, was another story. Yeah, he was a real head case thanks to dear old dad, always keeping up the front of a tough guy.

Chadwick wasn’t fooled, nor was he impressed with the macho bit. He had plastered a detached professional look on his almost pretty face while murmuring words of encouragement every miserable step of the way. He knew, too, when Dane had reached his absolute limit even before Dane realized it himself and long before Dane would have admitted it. Now, as he lay panting on a bench, he wondered if he had the strength to get up and leave.

Chadwick loomed over him. “How’re we doing, sir?”

“Great,” he lied because he was such a stubborn fuck and he couldn’t help it. “I just need a minute.”

As the understatement of the year hovered in the air between them, Chadwick grinned. “You did really well today, sir. I want to set you up on an every other day schedule to start. How does that sound?” To save himself further humiliation, Dane just gave a thumbs up. “To finish up the session, I want to massage the leg. Can you get up and come over to the massage table?”

The idea of the guy laying hands on his body perked Dane up considerably. Okay, it perked up a particular part of his anatomy, but fortunately Chadwick had already walked away so he didn’t see Dane surreptitiously rearrange his cock as he stood up to follow. Damnation but his leg let out a yelp as he put his weight on it. Not limping was not an option, so he didn’t even try. Besides, maybe he’d get a longer massage if Chadwick knew how much pain he was in.

Sure, that was a plan.

He lay face up on the padded table Chadwick motioned to and closed his eyes. When strong yet gentle hands curled around his calf, he allowed himself the luxury of relaxing into the sensation of being touched by another human being. There was nothing remotely sexual about the manner in which the therapist kneaded the sore muscles, all very professional. Still, his cock insisted on joining the party, hardening to a point that it tented his shorts.

The inappropriate reaction was mostly hidden under his T-shirt, but Dane couldn’t believe Chadwick wasn’t aware of it. He worked at keeping his breath even and focused on the sensations below his knee, some of which were painful enough to take his mind off fucking the body attached to those hands.

“It’s okay, sir,” Chadwick murmured. When Dane popped his eyes open, the younger man glanced down at the bulge and then back to what he was doing. “It happens to lots of guys when they’re getting a massage. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Really.”

Oh, yeah, right. Not a problem. “If you say so,” he replied with a grunt.

Mercifully, Chadwick only smiled in response and dropped the subject for the rest of the massage. As painful as the therapist’s strong fingers were, when it was over, Dane realized his leg didn’t hurt as much. He was able to stand on it with almost the same level of discomfort as when he’d come in.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a couple of tentative steps. “It feels better already.” A simple lie, wishful thinking, really. “You sure we can’t do this again tomorrow?”

Chadwick gave him a rueful grin. “Sorry, sir. Slow and steady wins the race. If we rush it, we run the risk of making things worse.”

“Right,” Dane replied grimly. Without another word, he turned and left. The bright fall sun hit him right between the eyes before he had a chance to whip on his sunglasses. It was still early enough in the day that he was at loose ends. Until he was fit for duty, there wasn’t much for him to do. Walter Reed was just far enough away from the SEALs’ east coast base that he’d been ordered to bunk at one of the barracks on the hospital’s grounds. That meant he couldn’t make himself useful in any regard, nor did he know anyone to hang out with.

Getting into his jeep, he headed back to his temporary housing. He could have gone for a drive given that it was his left leg that was injured. Driving didn’t hurt, despite command’s insistence to the contrary. But he was too tired after the therapy session to risk it. The last thing he needed was a car accident, so he went back to the tiny space he called home.

He’d been lucky enough to be assigned a private room and had grabbed a cold bottle of cola from the barrack’s fridge when he’d arrived. With more care than he wanted to need, he lowered himself onto the bed and took a long pull of his drink. The cold liquid slid down his throat and eased what tension was left in him after the soothing massage. His leg throbbed somewhat, but he ignored the feeling as he always did with discomfort.

Instead he allowed himself to think of Ensign Chadwick. The man was half tormentor, half tease. Okay, if you counted the teasing as a form of torment, then the guy was a complete torturer whether he intended to be or not. The idea of another man being the sadist was totally fucked up given that normally Dane was the one to inflict pain in a relationship.

Not that they were in a relationship, at least not a personal one. Chadwick had a job to do, they both did. Therapy would put Dane back in action, so he needed to focus on the guy’s skills, not his desirability. Hard to do, though, when the very thought of Chadwick heated him up even while the drink worked to cool him down.