In His Sights (Don't Tell) (7 page)

“Am I doing this right?” Grinding inside in a slow circle, I almost came undone when he clamped down in response. The tight channel viciously twisted around my cock when Hawke writhed.

He gasped a few times before finding his voice. “Oh yeah. Jesus Christ, Mayce.”

I planted my hands beside his head. “Better than you thought?” I thrust inside of him, the lube and my pre-come slicking the way for each lazy roll of my hips.

“Better than anything, anybody,” he growled. “Stop fuckin’ with me and just fuck me already.”

I hushed him with my mouth against his. “No fucking here.” I withdrew, my cock arching to the air, aching to be balls deep again. I thrust in slowly. “Just lovemaking.”

I couldn’t keep up the slow pace for long. Hawke was too much, thrashing, begging, pleading. I dragged one of his legs up my chest, bent the other wide so I could watch my cock plunge inside his magnificent ass.

He made low keening noises, the sound filling me with pleasure. I lowered his leg and lay all the way on top of him, our bodies connected from chest to thighs. Our hands locked together beside his head. Our parted lips hovered so close. Occasionally we latched on when I stopped my thrusts to grunt at the exquisite feel of him clasping me deep inside.

His cock was caught between our bellies, and I watched his eyes becoming wild with the desperation to come. I glided up and down, the hair on my groin stimulating the hot rigid flesh. Then I stroked him, fast within my fist.

“Mayce…” He moaned breathlessly.

Come blasted his stomach and mine. It hit his chin, his mouth. As I pumped through his orgasm and the tight squeeze of his channel, I kissed him, sharing his tangy taste. I shuddered, losing myself inside of Hawke. Staggering bliss made my back bow. My hips punched to a primal rhythm as come burst from me until I rolled next to him, completely out of breath.

The hours, the minutes, and seconds would never stop. Time held us in its unending snare. I knew we’d have to get cleaned up and leave soon—me to the barracks and duty, Hawke to his camp and plans for the fall of Alpha. Always at odds and in danger of losing the other.

A few tears tumbled from Hawke’s eyes when he looked at me. “I don’t wanna wait for you. I don’t wanna worry about you every motherfucking minute of every day.” His arms captured me close, his chest heaving against mine. “This war’s gonna kill us. I don’t wanna wait for it to end.”

“What’re you asking me?” I peered at him.

“Do a handfasting with me. Or marry me.” He suddenly laughed, rolling on top of me. “Whatever. I don’t care. Jesus, run away with me.” His hands drifted up my back, settling on my shoulders. His lips nudged mine. “Just be mine. Always be mine.”

I felt lightheaded, like the first time I’d been up in a Predator plane; excited, scared, and a little sick. “Go AWOL?”

“Give up your post, this life. Come with me. Fight with me.”

“Live in freedom, love at will?”

His fingertips caressed my jaw. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

I nodded quickly. He was being too loud when he gave a happy shout, and I loved it. I loved the light in his eyes, the smile on his mouth, the joy skittering through me.

He grabbed his discarded shirt, yanking out an unraveling red thread from the hem.

“What’re you doing now?” I sat up.

“This is a promise.” He pulled my hand between his and kissed each fingertip. When he got to the fourth, he looped the red thread around it, fashioning a homemade ring in the color of the Freelanders.

I caressed his face and stroked the blond goatee, smiling against his lips. “I promise.”

We were about to kiss again when I heard the march of boots outside. “They’re here.”

“What?”

“Troopers, coming close.”

We dressed so quickly—me in my uniform, Hawke in his Freelander garb—I almost forgot the feel of him under me, beside me. At the last moment, I took off the ribbon and hid it deep within my breast pocket, between my heart and my Corps insignia.

Hawke shoved me toward the back entrance. “Go. Now.”

“What the hell? You go. They’re not gonna fuck with me.”

“Really.” He pushed his face into mine. “How are you gonna explain being out here alone.” He shook his head, pulling his shoulders back. “I’m done running.”

Thunder rumbled in my veins as I stood my ground. “Don’t be fucking stupid. I’ll go out the front, you hit the back. Don’t look back. Don’t come back.”

My heart ripped through my chest while I waited for him to agree. He finally nodded. This was too dangerous, we couldn’t keep doing it. I only hoped we made it without being caught one last time. I swooped in for a fast kiss, holding his face in my hands.

I whispered the words I wanted to say to him every day of my life. “I love you.”

I watched him leave before sliding out the front. I ran to catch up with the search crew/lynch mob out on the hunt for Nomads.

The troopers stopped and saluted me. One of them said, “Corporal, sir! Didn’t know you’d be on this detail.”

“I heard the alert. Was finished with my own op. What’s the score?”

“Heard there was faggot activity in the area.” He thumbed the weapon at his side.

My stomach curdled…
faggot
. That was all I’d be to my comrades if they found out the truth.

A call sounded on his D-P, one heard by all of us:
Sighted the Nomad! Southeast, a quarter klick from your location.

My stomach fell but my feet surged into action. I raced to reach them first. Agony and anger stung me when I came upon Hawke and his captors. He’d been taken down by two troopers. One pressed his face to the pavement. The other had his knee to Hawke’s back, his arm torqued between his shoulder blades. They crowed with shouts about the
queer Nomad
, the animal they’d trapped.

Unadulterated violence made my nostrils flare.

“Kill him, Kill him here!” The grunts who came up behind me shouted.

I swung between them and Hawke, his beloved face already swelling from the hits he’d taken, but I was glad to see both his assailants had blood trailing from their busted lips care of his fists. “Enough! Take him to RACE. He may have useful intel on the Revolution.”

I pulled the two soldiers off of Hawke and he gained his feet. I wanted to hold him, protect him. I had no recourse but to cuff his wrists behind his back. He remained stoic, strong, silent.

We marched back to the Quad. I took control of Hawke, my hand grasped on the back of his neck, hoping my touch would reassure him that I’d find a way to get him out of this alive. Inside the RACE building, I waited while officials processed him. Every breath was a struggle not to scream. Every second a fight not to draw my Beretta and shoot my own people. Wound so tight, wooden and stiff, I didn’t let him out of my sight until the very last second. I could do nothing but watch my lover being taken to a cell.

I stormed into the barracks, straight to the locker room. After making sure it was empty, I barely hit the sink before puking my guts out. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. I crashed to my knees on the floor, my hand clinging to the cold edge of the sink the only thing keeping me from falling completely over.

We were going to be together. I was gonna abscond. Life, a real life, would start again.

Now, it was all simply over. The red string in my pocket felt made of lead.

I jerked to my feet. I splashed water on my face. I hunted down the only true friend I’d ever had, Darwin, who’d been absent when Hawke was taken into custody.

I found her at target practice and waited impatiently as she finished emptying her clip into the bull’s-eye. She sauntered to me, clearly questioning my pale face and frantic energy. I nodded for her to follow me to my room where I shut the door behind us.

“I need your help and I need your secrecy.” I had no one else to turn to.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

H
AWKE

I didn’t know what time it was or how many hours had passed. Being marched away from Mayce was a new lesson in humility. I’d felt his stare drilling into my back. I almost turned to look at him one last time. Instead I’d lifted my head, gazing blankly in front of me as the corridors turned into one, then another. I was pushed down steps. With my hands cuffed behind me, I stumbled in the darkness only lit by red lights. I hit the landing with my shoulder and hip before being roughly hauled to my feet. Two guards with blocky bodies and bully stamped all over their faces crashed me against the bars of a prison cell before it opened and they tripped me inside.

“There’s a bucket for your piss, you fucking swine. Don’t waste it. It’ll probably be the only thing you get to drink down here.”

The cell door shut me in. There was no light, no window. No clock, no time. The dimensions were the length of a tall man’s body and two skinny men lying side-by-side. Snug was putting it lightly. The floor was cold and hard, the walls damp and stony…as if the prison had been carved out of rock unlike the rest of the CO Quadrangle that was lit by bright halos gleaming off of steel and glass.

They hadn’t uncuffed me.

That was the first night.

The next and the next were a different story, one I never wanted retold. My wrists had been let loose when the jarhead guards paid me a visit, only so they could shear my clothing off of me. Too bad they sliced into the skin of my chest and far too close to my groin while doing the deed. Chills raced down my spine when they turned on a harsh spotlight. I found there was something else in the cell besides my piss bucket after all. Chains hung from the ceiling, just waiting for me. Wrists bound again, I was hooked by my metal cuffs until I swung from the ceiling, my toes barely brushing the floor. As an added feature, they cinched a strict metal collar around my neck and chained that by a hook at the front, too, restricting my breathing.

Naked, cold, hungry, I tried to ignore their taunts.

“Don’t he look better like this?” Guard one wiped across the sneer on his fat lips.

“Almost like a spit roast.” His fellow torturer jeered. “Dick-lickers like that. One in the mouth, one up the ass.”

“Hey, next time lets bring in some wood so we can really roast him.”

Their sadistic plans caused a sweat to break out on my back. Fear crawled across my skin when they took off their belts.

“Don’t you worry now, animal, we aren’t taking our clothes off. We’re Breeders for the CO, not ass-bangers.” Guard one ran his tongue across his yellowing teeth.

His pal chuckled, slapping his leather belt against his palm. “Bet he gets hard for us though.”

“Well then, maybe we’ll have to castrate him. That’d cure him of the disease, right?”

I sucked in a breath and held it. I’d definitely rather be dead than have my nuts cut off. I remained silent throughout the burning pain as their belts whistled and flayed the skin of my thighs, my chest, my back and ass. They waled on me, raising welts and beating dripping blood out of me, but I never opened my mouth. I never confessed. I never gave up plans about the Revolution and never, ever said a word about Mayce.

Their first round of punishment found me battered, starving, and huddling in a corner seeking warmth from my own limbs where none was to be had. In the subsequent days, my two guards returned. Their torture became more grueling, their jibes even uglier about who and what I was. They never used weapons on me and they didn’t try waterboarding, which I’d heard was a well-known tactic to make the enemy talk. Just their boots, belts, and fists while I swung from the chains. That was enough but still I didn’t break.

They told me my trial before RACE was soon. I’d be questioned yet again before a committee of homo-hating Nomad murderers. They didn’t have any evidence about my sexuality. I wouldn’t deny it if asked, though. As I’d told Mayce, I was done running. I’d rather die than live a coward. I was fairly certain death was in my near future anyway. Now I simply made sure I did nothing to implicate Mayce. Hunger gnawed a hole in my stomach, thirst blistered my throat, bruises and fractures grated my flesh and bones, but thoughts of my lover kept me alive as I prepared for death.

I woke soaked in a fear-induced sweat and shaky from a nightmare to the gritty sound of his voice.

“They kept you naked.” Mayce sat on the floor across from me, hands hanging between his drawn up knees.

I crawled as far back from him as I could. I hated him seeing me like this. I hated him being here with me and the risk he took. I couldn’t look at him. I felt like I was that savage he first thought me to be, only this time it was true. I’d been broken down, forced to become an animal.

He glared back at the guard outside my cell. “We can’t expect a prisoner to talk when he’s freezing cold and starving to death, can we?”

“It was orders from the—”

A muscle tensed in Mayce’s jaw. “First, you will address me as Corporal or Sir, grunt, and second, you will come back with clothes, food, and a blanket. How will this look on the promos?”

“Yes, sir, Corporal!” The brute didn’t look happy as he swallowed his orders and stalked away.

I glanced at Mayce. It was achingly painful to see him. Stark lines etched his face. His hollow eyes spoke volumes to me, but he kept his mouth shut. We couldn’t talk. We couldn’t touch. We were watched, possibly recorded. My fingers curled into my palms, and I was shamefully aware of my gaunt frame and the bruises discoloring my body.

Mayce swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. We never looked away from one another, searching for and finding the deep, undimmed spark of love that had bound us together.

The agony of silence and keeping my hands off of him was worse than any torture the RACE Tribunal had planned for me. Worse than death if I couldn’t hold him one last time.

The floor was dusty, dirty. I used a shaking fingertip to write words in it, the lettering upside down so Mayce could read without changing his position. Every motion of my finger caused a twinge of pain but my feelings for him fueled me.

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS

I quickly brushed the message away with my palm. I watched his expressive eyes fill with tears he blinked away instead of letting fall. Slowly, Mayce pulled the red string from his pocket, discreetly showing it to me, communicating his promise…until the end.