9. John

CHAPTER 9

JOHN

My first night in Portland had not ended the way I'd hoped. I had grandiose ideas that after that spectacular blow job, we'd have dinner, settle in to watch some TV and talk. Maybe even end up together in my bed.

But that's not how it went.

After we'd brought in my things from the car, we'd ordered Thai and Brent left the apartment. To say I wasn't happy was an understatement.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he replied. "Why?"

He looked amused by my question as I looked around the apartment, hoping some reason would occur to me that he needed to stay in with me. But I came up empty.

"I thought we could talk… or something."

The left side of his beautiful mouth pulled up into a grin as he turned to face me. He folded his arms across his chest, giving me another look at the tattoos on his left arm.

"I think we've already done something . So I'm going out."

I scowled at him, failing at trying to keep my cool. Give me a SEAL Team under fire, and I was cool and collected. But this guy, my husband, kept me off kilter.

"Then I'm coming with you," I said, rubbing my hand over my head. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be ready."

Why the fuck was I acting this way? Oh, now I remember. He didn't know we were married. And I'd told him I didn't want a fuck buddy. I headed toward my room, but he stopped me in my tracks.

"I've got a Grindr date, John. Do you still want to go? That's not your thing."

It wasn't lost on me that I was being irrational, but panic filled me as I whirled on him. "Why do you need to do that when we just had sex?"

He grinned before turning to head toward the door. "Where did you think I was going? Nutting once might be enough for you, but not for me. I'll see you later. Don't wait up."

So there I stood, watching my hot-as-fuck husband walk out the door. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it but watch him go.

Two hours and forty-nine minutes after he'd walked out, Brent strolled back into the dark condo. The only light came from the glow of the TV as I stretched out on the sofa after a shower, watching a baseball game.

Keeping my eyes on the screen, I stared unseeing until he walked over and stood in front of me. I looked up into the molten chocolate eyes of the man I wanted to throttle. Then fuck. Then throttle again.

"I thought I told you not to wait up," he said softly as he gazed down at me.

"I didn't. Just couldn't sleep."

Brent nodded, then turned to look at the game on the TV. "Who's winning?"

"No fucking idea," I grunted, shifting my eyes back to the game.

I was terrible at concealing my feelings from him. He'd have to be deaf to miss the tone in my voice, and I had zero justification to act like I did. But all it did was make him smile around pursed lips.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my night went?"

I glanced back up and narrowed my eyes at him. "Why the fuck would I do that?"

"Because you're obviously not happy that I left. " He sat down on the edge of the sofa by my hip. The spot where our bodies touched was like a valve release, allowing my anger to slip away.

Brent turned his head to look back at me as I stared at his handsome profile. When our eyes met again, I wanted to grab him and hold him close. I could see doubt in his eyes, and I knew he wouldn't let me in. "For the life of me, I can't figure out why you'd care John. You turned down my offer."

He was right. I had. "Did you go to get back at me?"

He shrugged, but kept his eyes on me. "Possibly. Or maybe I just needed to get my head on straight."

My hand went to his back and under his shirt. No matter how I tried, I couldn't keep my hands off him. And from the way he leaned back into my touch, he needed it as much as I did.

"I want to change my answer," I said, shifting to my side. My dick was hard from his proximity and the cologne he wore. As I pressed my cock forward against his hipbone, he shivered when I ran my hand over his skin.

"You sure about that?" Brent stared at me, waiting for my reply.

"Yes. But there will be no one else for either of us. Exclusive fuck buddies."

He looked at me and smiled. "I'll think about it and let you know."

And with that, he got up and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

I stayed on the sofa, considering my options. It all boiled down to two things. I could try to make him jealous, like he'd done me, and hope he realized he wanted me after I told him our truth.

Or I could be his exclusive lover and make him fall in love with me. It was as obvious as the nose on my face that he was attracted to me, just like I was him.

So there was only one option. I'd have my cake and eat it too, and hope it didn't backfire on me.

The next day was filled with EHM business. Brent and I didn't talk about the night before, but went on as if it hadn't happened.

I couldn't decide what he was thinking, but by the end of the day, I was ready to relax.

"Let's go out to dinner. I'm craving a burger."

Brent nodded. "Alejandro's?"

"Perfect," I replied as my stomach growled. "But I need to shower first."

A wicked grin took over his face. "The green bottle is Dare's favorite. Might want to use the gray one."

I huffed, wondering what he'd done to the gray bottle. When I stayed at Jesse's apartment, he'd told me about the pranks they used to play on each other when they were in the service. And if Brent was telling me to use the gray bottle, then I was surely going to use the green one.

Turning on the water, I stripped out of my workout clothes and stepped under the spray. Reaching for the bottle, I popped the lid and smelled the contents. It was some high-end brand that did double duty as both shampoo and body wash.

Pouring out the silky blend into my hand, I washed my hair and body, enjoying the fragrance and the way it made my body feel.

I cut off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat. Reaching for the towel, I noticed the oily film that coated my skin and caused the water to bead off.

"That motherfucker," I said, wrapping a towel around my waist.

Charging out of the bathroom, I stormed down the hallway, covered in some kind of oil. I threw open his door to find him stark naked, bent over the bed with a giant bottle of lube and a horn-shaped dildo.

"What the fuck did you do to the shampoo?"

One look at my oily skin had him laughing, and me wanting to shut him up. But the fucker took off out of the room and into the living room.

"Come on, Commander. Show me what you got."

Dreamboat crouched into a wrestling stance, arms extended out while he held the dildo in his right hand like a weapon. Never one to be one-upped, I threw off my towel and grabbed my dick. "As soon as I catch you, I'll show you what I've got."

He cackled and bounced around, making his dick swing in the air. That had to hurt, but I wasn't backing off. I lunged for him, but he slipped out of my grasp.

Fucking oil.

"I'm gonna fuck you with this horn, Commander. You'll love it."

"Not if I take it away from you," I said as we circled the sofa. Reaching out, I swatted it out of his hand, both of us scrambling to the floor to capture the prize.

Just when I had it within my grasp, the sound of a key sliding into the lock made us both freeze. Until Brent popped his head up from the floor.