Off World 2: Sanctuary Page 6

  “What did you want?”

  Oh, shit. This was getting deep in a hurry and Sandy wasn’t at all certain this was where he and Alex needed to go -- not at this juncture, anyway. Alex was plenty smart and Sandy should have known he wouldn’t get away with simple statements or convenient half-truths.

  “Emotional closeness. Affection. Love.”

  Alex’s snort of derisive laughter wasn’t flattering, but what did he expect? “Love? You’re shopping in the seriously wrong store for that commodity, hon.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Sandy shook his head a little and glanced up at where Alex sat, gazing off at nothing. His eyes had a distant, unfocused look to them and Sandy wondered what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. What was Alex’s idea of love? Or did he even believe in it, considering what he’d done -- and what had been done to him? It was hard to imagine anyone looking at that quirky, unique, beautiful face and not immediately sensing the singular personality behind it. “No shit.”

  They sat, each lost in his own thoughts. At least, Sandy presumed Alex was thinking. Sandy was mostly just running his gaze over Alex’s profile, with its straight, slightly upturned nose, strong jaw, and intelligent brow. And those lips. God. So full and pink. Now that he’d tasted them, Sandy only wanted more. He wanted to explore Alex’s mouth, slip his tongue inside, nip and play and just…

  Aw, man.

  The hard-on that had been ebbing slightly was back. With a vengeance. The quiet was getting to Sandy. Knowing he and Alex were alone, with no prying eyes on them, free to do whatever they wanted, Sandy was hard again and fantasy after fantasy slipped into his mind. If he just kissed Alex a little, he could—

  “Sandy, could I…?” Alex was turned back toward him now, casting nervous looks at Sandy, around the room, and back to Sandy again. “Please. If you won’t let me… do anything for you. How can I—?”

  As if the furtive looks weren’t enough, the gusty sigh of frustration that burst out of Alex would have been a big-ass clue. The atmosphere must be getting to Alex, too. How could it not? It was thick enough to reach out and touch. Sandy kept his voice deliberately calm. As a Marine sergeant, he’d worked with enough rookies to know somebody had to maintain calm.

  “What, Alex?”

  In agonies of…something, Alex shot him another tortured glance. “I need a favor, Sandy. How can I ask you when you’ve done so much already and you won’t let me do anything for you?”

  “Done? What have I done besides mooch drinks and cop a quick feel?”

  “Just knowing you’re in the picture is huge, don’t you see? Joe’s not going to really try anything with you around. I know it. Now that Nick’s here and they’re feeding off each other, it’s going to be worse; except he won’t push that hard if he thinks he might have to answer to you. See what I mean?”

  “Alex, honey, what are you talking about?”

  “Would you mind… could you sleep with me tonight?”

  ***

  He’d gone too far.

  Asked for too much.

  The way Sandy was looking at him -- like he’d finally lost his mind -- was all Alex needed to know he’d pushed too hard. “Forget it. That’s okay. I know you’re busy.”

  He was babbling. But, God, what if he’d totally ruined things? What if Sandy decided not to help him? It wasn’t impossible that Sandy might stop talking to him, period. Cut him off completely.

  “It’s the middle of the night, Alex. What am I supposed to be so busy doing?” A slow smile spread over Sandy’s face. A wry smile, to be sure, but Alex would take anything.

  “I don’t know. Business-y stuff. Security stuff. Sending communications to your friends, maybe? Fucking cute go-go boys.”

  Sandy had the nerve to laugh at him. “Go-go boys?”

  “Okay, Recreational Time Specialists, then. Whatever.”

  Openly laughing now, Sandy’s eyes crinkled appealingly. “Say that again for me. That’s too cute, the way you say it.”

  “Are you laughing at me? What a jerk. Forget it, then -- I don’t need your help.” Folding his arms, Alex looked away. Whatever. It was probably better this way, anyway. He’d learned to deal with things on his own a long time ago and the number one thing he’d learned was to never let his guard down. Never. Trust no one.

  This really was better.

  “Hey, hey. Calm yourself down. I was just having a little fun with you, Alex. As it happens I’m fresh out of go-go boys, so I’m free tonight. I can stay.”

  “Forget it. I don’t need your help.”

  “Alex, come on. Lighten up, I was just playing. I’d like to stay.”

  Alex chanced a look. “Are you sure? You’re not just goofing with me?”

  “I’m not goofing with you. I’ll stay.”

  Sandy’s eyes were big and brown, his expression serious, but what did that quirk of his mouth mean? What if…? But Sandy had said he didn’t expect anything in return. He’d said he was just doing it as a friend. Did friends sleep over to help out other friends? Alex didn’t know. He was pretty sure he could still manage a handjob. He wouldn’t have offered, otherwise. Anything more, though, was out of the question.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it -- a lot.” Alex stood. “You take the bed. It’s probably smaller than you’re used to, but—”

  The truth was it was an efficiency apartment, and a rented one at that. There were more luxurious surroundings for the RaTS, both those who danced and performed in shows and those who couldn’t dance or act to save their lives, but liked the straight fucking. The efficiencies were small and dorm-like -- strictly for accommodating new employees who weren’t yet earning enough to move on to private quarters. Not that the rooms were exempt from all sexual activity; still, there was nothing luxurious about them.

  “Thanks, but I’ll take the floor.” Sandy unfolded big, sturdy legs and pushed himself up to a standing position. “Mind if I take off my shirt?” Pausing as he reached for the bottom of the shirt, Alex realized Sandy was waiting for an answer.

  Alex paused.

  Swallowed.

  “Sure. No problem. I’ll just, um, change out of my work clothes. They stink by the end of the night; you probably noticed. I mean it, though, Sandy. You’re taking the bed. I won’t take no for an answer.” When Sandy resumed pulling his shirt over his head, Alex grabbed his sleep clothes at the first glimpse of bare, tanned belly and fled to the bathroom.

  Stalling as long as he could, Alex did his best to clean up. He took a quick shower, trying to distract himself from what Sandy must be doing by thinking of all the ways the hygiene units in the employee apartments weren’t like the luxury models in the theme rooms.

  Paying customers were paying major credits for a fantasy experience -- sometimes with a regular companion, other times with one of Nelly’s highly skilled technicians -- so besides the basics, the rooms were filled with luxurious extras. Alex had been inside two: the Tahitian Room, filled with sand, palm trees that swayed in a realistic-feeling tropical breeze, and a fake moon that hung low in a balmy evening sky; and the Harem Room, where silk-covered walls, dozens of satin pillows littering the floor, hookahs, and fan-waving attendants completed the fantasy.

  The lights in Alex’s room were dimmed and it was quiet when he finally ran out of things to do and left the relative safety of the cleansing stall. Taking up most of the available floor space, Sandy lay flat on his back, his shirt wadded up and stuffed under his head as a pillow.

  Alex wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but Sandy with his shirt off was an even more impressive sight than just Sandy, period.

  Kilometers of bare, cocoa-colored skin showed, with dark greenish-black tattoos in geometric shapes covering most of the exposed skin along one side of Sandy’s body. Only having seen the bits extending up Sandy’s neck previously and occasionally a small glimpse of the design covering the chest and pec, Alex had never imagined it was anywhere near that extensive. He couldn’t distinguish much, but it looked dense, layered, almost li
ke clothing in the room’s poor lighting.

  How far did it reach? Down the torso and leg, maybe?

  “Come on, Alex. Maybe you can work half the night and party the rest, but some of us need a little shut-eye.”

  How could he possibly take the bed and leave Sandy to try to get comfortable on the floor? It was rude, bad hospitality, and no way to thank someone who was already putting himself out to help Alex.

  “Sorry. But… Sandy, you agreed you’d take the bed.”

  “That’s not the way I remember it. You offered -- I said no -- discussion over. If you really want, we can talk about it some more in the morning. Right now I’d like to get some sleep.”

  It didn’t seem possible that Alex could feel Sandy’s gaze on him in the dark, but he could. Felt the burn of it on his cheeks and face as he stood, looking ridiculous in his flannel pajama pants and threadbare t-shirt.

  “Sandy—” Rolling away and onto one side, Sandy effectively ended their conversation.

  So what was he supposed to do now? Sandy was huge -- he probably outweighed Alex by thirty kilos, if not more. There was no way Alex could make Sandy do anything.

  He had to stick to his guns, though. He had to prove to Sandy that he meant what he said. Alex couldn’t let the man get the idea that Sandy could just walk all over him. He’d worked hard to get this far and it seemed like every hurdle he made it over just brought five more into view.

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want to handle it.” Alex grabbed his pillow from the head of the bed, pulled the blanket off next, and dropped them both on the floor beside Sandy. “Move over.”

  “You’re not serious.” Dark eyes glinting in the half-light, Sandy peered over his shoulder at Alex.

  “I so am. If you can be a stubborn ass, so can I. Are you going to move over?” Alex couldn’t tell if his bluff was working or not, but his stomach was tied in knots.

  Sandy leaned back a little and just looked. “How long do you plan on keeping this up?”

  “Until you agree to take the bed.”

  “Not while you sleep on the floor.”

  “Same here.”

  They stared at each other, Alex willing his eyes not to blink.

  Sandy’s gaze slipped over to the bed and then back to Alex. “We both can’t sleep on that thing. It’s maybe… what?… one-and-a-half by two meters? If that?”

  “Then move over and give me some room here.” Alex wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold the glare. His eyeballs were drying out and his nose itched.

  “You’re tougher than you look, you know that? It would serve you right if I tossed you down on it and tied you there.” For a moment, Alex couldn’t speak. “Alex, I was kidding. Breathe, okay?”

  He was okay again. He could breathe and blink and maybe even talk. Still he held back.

  “Okay, okay, you win. I’ll sleep on the bed. But you do, too, or the deal’s off.”

  Chapter 6

  Down.

  Across.

  Over.

  Up again -- diagonally, this time. Back across. Down and over.

  Designs traced slowly over Sandy’s skin. Repeated endlessly, until he thought he was going to lose it.

  Sandy’d already lost control of his body once. Asleep -- dreaming of Alex’s kiss, of being completely naked, with Alex’s hands on his body -- he’d slowly realized that was a real, live human touch on his back and not just some phantom conjured by his unfettered libido.

  Not just any human touch, either. It was Alex, touching him, willingly. Tracing his tattoos.

  He’d come in his pants.

  Quiet as he’d been, though, Sandy didn’t think Alex had noticed. Or if he had, it hadn’t stopped Alex. He was still driving Sandy crazy with touches so light they were barely there. But, oh, were they there. Little shivers raced up Sandy’s spine at random intervals, his scalp prickling with awareness. He fought a whole-body shudder of desire.

  Alex was touching him.

  Sandy called on his soldier’s training to hold as still as he possibly could, while Alex drove him slowly out of his mind.

  “Sandy. Sandy, are you awake?” A puff of warm breath ghosted over Sandy’s back. A tentative touch of a hand passed lightly over his shoulder blade as Sandy lay on his side, turned away from Alex and facing the wall. “Sandy?” Warm, moist heat. Lips. A kiss, placed tenderly on his back.

  “Yeah?” Sandy kept his voice low, afraid to break the spell.

  “How long have you been awake?” The hand gently stroked the bumps and hollows of Sandy’s neck and spine, moving down into the groove of his lower back.

  Closing his eyes, Sandy focused on breathing in to a slow five count, then out again. Lust, combined with something even more powerful rolled over him. Afraid of losing control completely if he was to turn around and face Alex, Sandy held still. “A little while.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Like what?”

  A soft lick flicked across Sandy’s shoulder blade. Alex’s tongue on his skin -- his bare skin. God!

  “Like, ‘Hey, who’s that touching me?’ Or maybe, ‘Hey, who’s that licking my back?’”

  Sandy slowly -- slow as a glacier, slow as military pay -- raised his hand to where Alex’s rested on his hip and very carefully placed it over Alex’s. It was all he could do not to take Alex’s hand in his and hold it to his ever-hopeful hard on, the mere thought of pushing into Alex’s hand drawing an involuntary flex from Sandy’s hips. “How about, ‘Why is Alex licking me in the first place?’ Huh?”

  “Good question. I don’t know. To see what you taste like? You taste pretty good, actually.”

  “Lot of people taste good, Alex. Why me? Why now?”

  “Do they, really?” There was a brush of soft hair across Sandy’s skin as Alex rested his head against Sandy’s back.

  “Sure. You don’t think so?” Sandy dragged a suffering breath into his lungs. He wanted… Sandy wanted… everything. Anything. Anything Alex was offering.

  “Not really. I mean, if you’re high enough, you can tolerate just about anything -- I should know. But actually enjoy it? No way.”

  You can tolerate just about anything .

  Sandy dropped his head, burying it in his arms. He had to get out of here. He was only human -- he could only stand so much torture. Every time Alex shifted so much as a millimeter, some body part of his came into contact with some part of Sandy. A foot. A knee. A calf.

  Sandy wanted…he’d give a lot to be able to roll over and press Alex into the mattress, grinding their cocks together as they kissed, until the glorious friction took them both over the edge. Or to lie on his back and have Alex crawl over him, jack him, ride him -- anything. Touch him. God. He could even just lie back and watch Alex touch himself; he was so far gone that something so simple as that would do it for him.

  Way to go, dumbass. Way to get your mind off your dick by thinking of all the things you’d like to do with it. “Alex, I need to use the head.”

  “The… oh, right. Gotcha.” Alex scrambled off the bed, tangling his feet in the bedding and nearly falling on his face in his hurry to get out of Sandy’s way. Jesus, what had they done to him inside that place? “You know where? Of course you do. Okay, I’ll just… it’s…”

  “It’s okay, Alex. I’m just using the head.” With a hard on he could drive rivets with, although he saw no need to mention that fact. Not that there was much of a way to hide it, though, without so much as his shirt to hold in front of himself. Maybe he could pass it off as just an everyday morning erection. Sure, that could work. Sandy rolled off the bed, telling himself to act natural. He could sell this.

  The harder Sandy tried to avoid Alex’s eyes, though, the more the thought of them drew him. The way your balls itch the second you’re hunkered down in a foxhole, or how the mere fact of being in a church made him want to swear. Sandy glanced briefly to where Alex stood, two meters away, gaze glued determinedly on the floor.

  It was the s
ubtle shift of weight from foot to foot that got to Sandy, even more than the single furtive glance up, before he resumed his thorough examination of the floor. Much as Sandy wanted to go to Alex and hold him -- even the vague idea of what might have conditioned that kind of behavior into someone as intelligent as Alex was like a fist to his gut -- Sandy knew he couldn’t.

  Which only pissed him off more, the frustration giving his voice an edge. “Alex, it’s okay. Just give me a second?”

  Biting his lip, Alex nodded.