After a silent moment, Ethan lifted his legs off the deckchair.

With a thankful moan, Jack straddled the chair facing Ethan and sat. He scooted up close, until their groins were almost touching, then lowered Ethan’s legs on either side of his hips. Dragging his hands up the cotton covered thighs, Jack leaned forward and nuzzled into Ethan’s neck.

“You had me worried,” he said against the warm, soft skin.

Legs wrapping around Jack’s waist, hands sliding over his shoulders, Ethan said, “I did?”

“Yeah. When you didn’t join me in the shower and waited until I’d fallen asleep before coming to bed.” Jack kissed a fervent line down one side of Ethan’s neck, across his clavicles and up the other side.

Ethan’s fingers pressed into Jack’s scalp. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Jack. I just . . . ngh . . . just wanted . . . to talk . . . to you about . . .” He trailed off into a series of nonsensical sounds that arrowed straight into Jack’s gut.

Dizzy with need, Jack chased the idea of Ethan wanting to talk about . . . something . . . for a brief moment only, because with a determined grunt, Ethan shifted forward, bringing his arse right into Jack’s lap.

“Jack,” Ethan moaned, then attacked him.

He’d missed this. The way Ethan’s lips and tongue and teeth could set his skin afire with the barest of effort. The soft noises he made as he tasted and touched. His fingers curling through Jack’s hair, positioning his head so he could kiss the sensitive flesh under Jack’s jaw. The rock of his hips against Jack’s, the coil and stretch of his thighs as he moved over him.

God. The things this man caused to happen in Jack’s chest were unbelievable. Burning, aching, tightness, pressure. Coursing down into his guts, into his balls and straining dick. The sensations lit him on fire. It was all too much and not enough.

Jack wrapped his arms around Ethan and lifted them both up. Ethan gasped, his holds with hands and legs tightening.

“Jack?”

“Grab the cushion off the chair,” Jack commanded.

One arm locked around Jack’s shoulders, Ethan leaned back and unhooked the long cushion from the deckchair and between them, they got it off and onto the polished timber of the deck itself. The moment it was down, Jack sank into a crouch, thighs burning but negligible when compared to the aching need spearing his chest. Lowering Ethan to his back on the cushion and coming down on top of him, it was all Jack could do to keep from saying silly, dangerous things. He distracted himself by dragging his hips back and forth over Ethan’s, their solid dicks clashing and rubbing through layers of material that both enhanced and frustrated. Ethan clenched his fingers into Jack’s hair, head dropping back as he moaned long and loud, the sound as primal and natural as the wilderness around them.

Propped up on an elbow, Jack skimmed his other hand down Ethan’s side, tracing his ribs, the jut of his exposed hip bone, across his shivering abdominals, up to his pecs to tease his nipples. Jack was caught by the contrast between their skin. The stark delineation of his darker tone against Ethan’s paleness, even as it flushed hotly with blood in the wake of Jack’s hand. It was nearly enough to make him blow then and there, but when Ethan put his own hand over Jack’s, sliding his fingers between Jack’s—brown, white, brown, white, brown, white—the pressure moved from his dick to his chest.

Then they curled their fingers down together, unconsciously sharing the same desire for closeness, for unity, and Jack’s chest grenade went off. It didn’t scare him this time. Didn’t start an internal battle between running away and making the one gesture he hadn’t made in so many years. This time he just basked in the glow, revelled in the heat spreading through his body, smiled at how it pulled him closer to Ethan.

While Jack licked a delicious path around and over Ethan’s pecs, Ethan scrabbled at his shirt, pulling it up so he could get his hands on Jack’s skin.

“I could take it off,” Jack offered.

“You could.” Ethan arched under him, pushing the bared skin of their bellies together. “Or you could keep talking about it and wasting time.”

Jack snorted and sat back on his heels. “Got somewhere else to be, huh?”

Sitting up, Ethan pulled and pushed until Jack’s shirt was off. “I may have other things planned.” Once that was done, he fell back and lifted his legs up, knees slightly bent. “Get me naked, Jack.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Ethan laughed at Jack’s hasty, clumsy removal of his pants, laughed harder when Jack accidentally rolled off their improvised bed to the deck while escaping his shorts.

“You bring the gear?” Jack ignored Ethan’s chuckles as he climbed back on.

Amusement dying, Ethan stilled in the act of wrapping his legs around Jack’s thighs.

Sinking sensation in his stomach, Jack moaned. “You forgot?”

“No.” Ethan pointed to his discarded pants.

Jack grabbed them and fussed about until he found a lumpy pocket. “Thank God. All my stuff’s upstairs and I’m not carrying you up those stairs, no matter how fucking hot you look . . .”

Ethan squirmed, cheeks flushing redder than his dick. After a silent moment, he prompted, “Jack? Are you all right?”

Jack looked at what he’d fetched out of Ethan’s pants’ pocket, then at Ethan, then back at the objects. There were two of them. Correct number. Incorrect composition. One, which Jack could accept at face value, was a sachet of lube. The other was a folded piece of paper.

“Um . . .”

“That’s what I wished to talk to you about,” Ethan said softly. “Last night, but I lost my nerve. It’s not my name, or any of the names you know I use, but I can assure you, Jack, that the results are mine.”

Sitting back, Jack dropped the sachet onto Ethan’s belly and unfolded the paper. The logo of an Australian based pathology company was at the top of the sheet and under it, the name of the patient, Jason Strachan. Then a series of tests, all negative. It was the date, however, that stood out for Jack.

“You had this done two months ago.”

“Yes.” He seemed about to leave it at that, then continued with a rueful smile. “After the Gold Coast, I thought perhaps you needed a sign that I was . . . committed to what we had. I had planned to tell you during the next visit, but you were sick and . . . well.”

Jack closed his eyes. He needed a moment to process it all. A moment where he wasn’t distracted by Ethan’s naked body and his earnestly hopeful expression. Christ. Just when he thought he had a handle on everything, Ethan went and tipped him over again. Finding no answers in the dark, he opened his eyes. Ethan was struggling to maintain his optimism. His dick had given it up for a lost cause already and frankly, Jack’s wasn’t in any better state right then, either. However, his chest still kindled a warmth left over from the grenade explosion and it didn’t seem to be fading. In fact, it only got hotter the more he looked at Ethan, the more the idea of what he was proposing sank in.

Very carefully, Jack folded the results up and tucked them back where he’d found them. “You did it again.”

“Did what?”

“Concocted a plan rather than just talk.”

Ethan let his head drop back so he could stare at the leaf-littered sail above them. “I know, Jack.” He sounded defeated.

Jack casually picked up the lube sachet and flicked it a couple of times, like he was preparing to open it. The sound of the foil snapping made Ethan look at him, eyebrows raised, lips parted on a silent question.

Grinning, Jack dropped down until he was lying on Ethan again. “You’re just lucky I’m fully on board with this plan.”

Tentatively, Ethan raised his knees to cradle Jack’s hips. “You are?”

“Yeah, I am.” Jack kissed his neck, his Adam’s Apple, his shoulder. “I got tested after Canberra, after Harry . . . after I got blood all over me. I’m clean. And, just to be perfectly clear, there’s been no one else for nearly six months. And I always used a condom.”

Ethan nodded, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Jack believed he knew the answer but asked anyway. “Have you been with anyone else lately?”

“There’s only been you, Jack.” Ethan ran his fingertips lightly across Jack’s jaw and lips. “Only you since we parted at the homestead.”

Nineteen months, twelve of which Ethan hadn’t been with him. It meant Ethan hadn’t been fucking his way through jobs in between, which was more important to Jack than he thought it should be. He kept his trap shut and distracted it by kissing his way down Ethan’s chest.

Ethan arched his back, pushing into the kisses with his whole body. He breathed Jack’s name, then gasped it when Jack forwent further teasing and wrapped his lips around Ethan’s dick. Only semi-hard, it took maybe three sucks to go full on stone-monolith and Ethan was moaning and clutching at Jack’s shoulders after two more. Jack’s dick was a steel rod pushed up into his belly by the deckchair cushion. He humped the waterproof material until the rough surface threatened to get him off. But as neither of them blowing like that was part of his plan, Jack pulled off Ethan with a sucking pop.

He couldn’t resist any longer. Finding the sachet, he tore it open and squeezed a bit of lube onto his fingers. Ethan watched avidly, and Jack was grateful it still wasn’t too bright for him to need his sunglasses. Jack really wanted to see his eyes. They weren’t strange to him anymore. They were simply Ethan’s eyes and Jack needed to know they were watching him as much as he was watching Ethan.

Sliding his hand under Ethan’s balls, Jack slowly, teasingly, worked a slick finger inside him. Ethan hummed approval, shifting his hips for a better angle. Jack feasted on his neck and jaw, his ears and his chin, hearing and feeling the delighted rumblings coming from Ethan’s throat. Ethan rushed Jack through the second and third fingers and when Jack sat back on his heels to squeeze more lube onto the head of his dick, Ethan shifted restlessly, rubbing his socked feet along Jack’s thighs.

“Jack.” The tone was plaintive yet commanding.

Chuckling, Jack spread the lube with a couple of firm strokes. “Patience, Blade. It’s a virtue.”

“Jack.” More command and threat this time.

Balanced on one hand, Jack loomed over Ethan, still holding his own dick. “Just making sure you really want this.”

Ethan ran his fingers across Jack’s chest. “I do, Jack. Very much.”

“Yeah?” Jack transferred his hand to Ethan’s dick, smearing lube up and down its length. “Or we could do it the other way . . .”

He gently stroked Ethan as he waited for the reply. He’d left it up to Ethan to say he wanted to top, but the fact they were about to do something new to them had him wondering if another might be just as inviting.

Eyes widening, Ethan stared up at Jack, lips parted in surprise. His dick stayed plump and hard in Jack’s hand, so the idea wasn’t a total turn off, but he didn’t immediately jump all over the opportunity. Instead, he locked his ankles together behind Jack’s back and pulled him down until they were pressed tight.

Nuzzling into Jack’ neck, Ethan said, “Maybe later. Jack, please. I need this.” He nipped at the corner of Jack’s jaw. “I need you.”

“Fuck.” Jack nodded against Ethan’s shoulder. It could wait. Anything else except this right now could wait.

Jack had to bite his lips as he pressed slowly into the heat of Ethan’s body, needing a distraction from the overwhelming awareness of having nothing between them. He’d forgotten the rawness of the sensation, the intimacy of the complete connection. Everything felt so much warmer and closer and deeper and . . . just more. It wasn’t only physical, although Ethan’s legs felt like they were clamped impossibly tight to his hips, his fingers dug into the muscles of Jack’s back, and the heat rolling between their rocking bodies almost steamed in the damp atmosphere. The trust between them was stronger, the passion hotter, the honesty deeper.

Unlike the last time, the slow, deliberate pace Jack set appeared to be what Ethan wanted as well. He moved with Jack, nodding frantically, unable to voice his agreement. One hand slid down Jack’s back and splayed over his tailbone, feeling Jack’s spine flex. The other cupped Jack’s cheek, his thumb running over his lips. Ethan’s gaze locked onto Jack’s, wide and dazed, only breaking the link when he closed his eyes and moaned huskily.

At the sight of those long, thick lashes sitting on flushed cheeks and the inviting O of his wet lips, the urge to throw caution to the wind surged. Christ. Jack was so close to losing his last grip on sanity. And maybe he should. Maybe it was time he stopped denying it and just admit what he was feeling. It was getting harder and harder to shove that one fact aside.

He wanted to kiss Ethan Blade.

Not his neck or cheek or abs or dick, but his mouth. His soft, full lips that gave shape to his British accent, to his wry humour, to his excited prattle about getting a new fuel-injection system for the Lamborghini. His mouth which smiled at Jack, gaped when Jack did something unexpected, or pursed in disapproval. The mouth that had whispered support and comfort in Jack’s ear the day before. Jack wanted to kiss Ethan and offer up everything that meant to him.

Jack closed the last miniscule distance between them. Bodies pressed close, noses brushing, he felt Ethan’s panted breaths on his own lips, drew his air in and breathed his own into Ethan.

Ethan’s eyes flashed open and the instant their gazes snapped together, his whole body shook in reaction to what he saw in Jack’s eyes.

Feeling Ethan respond so viscerally shocked Jack out of the moment. The urge was still there, pressing insistently on his throat and temples and heart, but something held him back. Jack tucked his face into Ethan’s neck instead.

“Jack,” Ethan breathed, hand on the back of his head, holding him gently. “Please.”

The plea could have been for the missed kiss, but Ethan followed it with an urgent buck of his hips, heels pushing into Jack’s thighs. His whole body clamped around Jack in desperation.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, the word muffled in Ethan’s warm skin.

Still pressed so tight together the shape of Ethan’s hard dick was imprinted on Jack’s belly, he began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. He wasn’t going to last long, not with the added intensity of being bare inside Ethan. The speed and pressure only seemed to make him more sensitive to every nuance in Ethan’s body, each little motion and ripple feeding back into Jack tenfold. Ethan, too, seemed overcome by the raw force of it. His hands gripped at any part of Jack he could reach, his legs curling and flexing, chest heaving as he fought for air around totally involuntary moans and gasps.

Stimulated by the friction between them, Ethan came. His dick pulsed and pulsed, heat slicking the glide of their bellies as his body convulsed around Jack, intensifying the already mind-bending connection.

“Ethan,” Jack groaned as his body went wild, fucking without guidance from anything other than primitive, driving compulsion.

“Yes, yes, Jack.” Ethan pulled Jack even closer to his quaking body. “Please. I need you. Now.”

Jack came. Vision and hearing both went white-out. Touch didn’t. Even as he shuddered through a powerful release, Jack still felt every inch of Ethan against his skin. Still felt the strength of the arms around him, the heat of the body cradling him, the softness of the lips pressing over and over to his neck, his temple, his cheek.

Still felt the gunshot force of his need to kiss Ethan.