“Yeah.” Their reflections undulated in the mirrored closet door. Dylan didn’t quite recognize himself—pupils blown wide with pleasure, flush across his chest and neck, hair a mess, head tipped back against Apollo. He looked totally at Apollo’s mercy—and happy as fuck with that, which wasn’t a lie. Usually, he’d be the one driving the tempo, deciding when to come and when to tease, but surrendering like this was unexpectedly delicious.
Dipping his head, Apollo nipped at Dylan’s shoulders. “Want to watch you lose it. Fuck, your face...everything.”
If only... Dylan would give a lot to really be everything for Apollo, to be enough. He shut his eyes, unwilling to scrutinize the sincerity in Apollo’s dark gaze. This was enough, had to be enough.
“Unnngh,” he moaned as Apollo’s strokes got rougher, the rhythm getting more frantic as Apollo panted against his neck.
“That’s it, babe. Come with me now.”
“Wish...want you to fuck me.”
“God, I want that too. Want to be inside...” Apollo’s hips stuttered as if that thought was just too much for him.
“Yes.” Dylan’s voice broke on the word as he erupted all over Apollo’s fist. His earlier orgasm had been like a pressure release valve opening—awesome relief, but not all-encompassing like this. His body shuddered over and over as the orgasm washed over him, ass clenching as surely as if they were fucking, head spinning with white-hot sensations.
“That’s it.” Apollo’s grip on Dylan’s chest tightened and his hips snapped as he too came in a series of husky, choked moans. God, Dylan loved how vocal Apollo could be in bed, how it seemed like despite his best efforts he just couldn’t stay quiet when he came.
“Fuck.” Apollo rolled to his back. “That was intense.”
Intense. That was one way to describe the best non-fucking experience of Dylan’s entire sex life. God, he’d felt so close to Apollo there at the end. Dangerously close. He could not afford to let his feelings rise up in his chest, make all his muscles tight, make his heart leap. Nope. None of that.
He forced himself to sit up. “Damn. I’m going to need a shower before I sleep.”
“Same.” Apollo laughed. “Listen—”
“You need to sleep in your own room in case the girls need you. I get it.” Dylan didn’t wait for Apollo to be the one to say the words. Hell, he needed the distance even more than Apollo. No way could he sleep next to Apollo all night again after sex like that. Boundaries. That’s what they needed. Strict boundaries and realism about what this was—and what it wasn’t.
“Yeah.” Apollo nodded. And if there was a hint of regret in his eyes, Dylan refused to let himself see it.
Chapter Thirteen
“Baba? Can we watch Dylan’s soccer game?” Chloe bounced in her booster seat as Apollo triple-checked her buckle. Dylan had been gone after work the past two nights, practicing with Ben and other team members for the exhibition game.
“Please?” Sophia asked. “It’s before bedtime. I know. I asked.”
“You asked, huh?” Apollo sighed. He had a text on his phone from Ben telling him to bring the girls to the match and a note on the fridge from Dylan with the game’s time and place. It felt like the whole damn world was conspiring to disrupt his evening routine.
“Dylan! Game! Let’s go!” The usually quieter Sophia clapped her hands. “And burgers on the way.”
“I want cheese on mine!”
Apollo groaned. He hadn’t risen through the SEAL ranks without knowing when he was outnumbered. Sometimes all one could do was to give in and regroup. “Okay, okay, but it’s straight to bed after.”
The soccer game was being played out in La Mesa, out at the Junior Seau soccer fields, which meant plenty of time for the girls to devour kids’ meals in the car—something he rarely allowed—and to drift asleep on the drive. Even the short half-hour nap meant they’d undoubtedly be bouncing off the walls come bedtime. Which meant less chance of Apollo getting up to fun again with Dylan. Their schedules hadn’t quite meshed since Sunday night, and if he didn’t know better, he’d think Dylan was avoiding him. And really, he should be relieved about that, not jonesing for a repeat.
Almost to La Mesa in tight traffic, his car’s hands-free Bluetooth device signaled an incoming call from Marilyn. The girls snoozed through his greeting, even with the call on speaker, and didn’t even blink at their grandmother’s excited reply.
“I have the best news. Guess what we won tickets to?”
“I have no idea.” Apollo wasn’t being flip—Marilyn was the queen of contest entering, impulsively entering every drawing and raffle and charity auction that came her way. They had plenty of money, enough that Neal had had a hefty trust fund that let him and Apollo get the house, but Marilyn made coupons and contests a hobby.
“A four-pack of tickets to Disney from the band fundraiser. We can’t wait to take a weekend and take the girls.”
“That’s wonderful.” Apollo tried to contain the churning in his stomach. This would be fine. Marilyn and Pat had taken the girls for overnights and day trips before. No reason for this to trip his anxiety. “When are you thinking?”
“Not this coming weekend, but next? I’m thinking we’ll go up Friday evening, then have all day Saturday at the park, and home on Sunday.”
“I’m off that one, Friday night and Saturday at least. I could—”
“Do not volunteer to come. We want to do you a favor. Give you a break, which lord knows you deserve. Please, Apollo, just let us do this for them.”
Apollo braked harder than he needed to at a red light. He gritted his teeth. Why was giving up control so damn hard? “You’ll take lots of pictures,” he said at last. “And watch the girls in the hotel pool—”
“Of course. You’ll see. This will be lovely. A chance for you to catch up on your sleep.”
Or with Dylan, Apollo’s brain chimed in uninvited. Oh hell. A whole weekend alone with Dylan with him not scheduled to be on duty? Maybe he should volunteer for extra hours...
He said goodbye to Marilyn even as his brain continued to churn.
“We here?” Chloe’s eyes fluttered open as he parked in the lot near the soccer fields.
“Yeah, sweetie.” His girls. That was what was important, not getting time alone with Dylan. He led the girls to the bleachers. Unlike at a larger venue, the soccer bleachers were close to the sideline, and they easily found seats near the field, next to a few other families. The girls promptly joined the other kids in playing on the concrete steps next to the bleachers.
His resolve to turn his focus away from his libido and Dylan only lasted as long as it took the teams to jog out onto the field. Damn, he looked good in the close-fitting soccer shorts and borrowed uniform shirt. He was talking to Ben, and when he laughed at something Ben said, Apollo’s teeth ground together hard enough to taste enamel.
“Dylan! Dylan! We came!” The girls rushed to the low fence separating the field from the bleachers.