Cliff's Edge (10 page)

“What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious. It’s called kissing.”

“Yes, I know what it’s called. What I don’t get is why—” Cliff yanked his arm back from Ryan’s loose grip. “Give me a fucking break, Ryan. That was a one-time event. I never should have done it and I sure as hell don’t plan to be on permanent BJ duty until you get back to Coronado and find a woman to fuck.”

“So
not
what I’m thinking, Cliff. I should have…” Ryan shook his head. “Shit. We should have talked first, I guess.”

“Ya think? What’s this about, Ryan?”

Needing a few minutes to get his thoughts together, Ryan turned away and walked toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?” he asked as he opened the fridge and removed a bottle of sparkling water for himself.

“Do I need one? No—don’t answer that. I’ll have what you’re having. Now, will you please explain?”

“Yeah…I think I will.” Ryan twisted the top from a bottle and placed it on the counter for Cliff, before opening his own bottle. He took a long drink before starting his explanation. As well as they knew each other, this just wasn’t a conversation he’d ever expected to have. It was why he’d changed his mind about how to proceed half a dozen times over the last two days.

However, they were long past the go-no-go decision point. He’d committed to action when he’d kissed Cliff, so now it was time to follow through. “I had breakfast and a long talk with Ty yesterday. He had some interesting observations about how the two of us act around each other. He forced me to look at some assumptions I’d always made. Cliff, you know how people have teased us for years about acting like a married couple?”

Cliff was shaking his head…not as if he didn’t know, but as if he could deny what Ryan was about to say. “You’re straight, Rhino. That doesn’t just change overnight. We’re friends. Best friends—”

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, we are and have been for twenty years. We’ve shared more than most couples and maybe people have been seeing something we didn’t—we couldn’t—because we’ve always defined the difference between us as gay and straight.”

“That’s because we are. Rhino…you don’t just turn gay because you got your rocks off when another guy sucks you off.”

“I don’t think I
am
gay. How I feel about women—in the generic sense—hasn’t changed. But how I feel about you—or rather how I feel about our relationship—
has
changed.”

Cliff sucked in a big breath and let it loose on an explosive bark of laughter. “I told you…” He chuckled some more. “Guys give the best blow jobs—but Rhino—just teach your next girlfriend how you like it.” He continued to laugh. “Seriously…we’re good, okay? Let’s just forget about this. We can have dinner and watch TV or something.”

Setting his bottle on the counter with a thunk, Ryan stalked toward Cliff until he was in his space. He unzipped his pants and tugged Cliff’s hand until it rested inside his underwear. The big hand wrapped around Ryan’s cock as Cliff studied his face.

“Can’t deny this, Cliff. That’s for you.” He unbuckled the belt on Cliff’s slacks, then worked the button and zipper free. Sliding his hands to Cliff’s hips, he slipped the fabric down, then dropped to his knees, as if in supplication.

“Waited two days to kiss you, Cliff. Want to touch you.” He brushed his cheek against the velvet-soft skin of Cliff’s dick. Heat surged through him, searing his soul with an absolute certainty that this was right.

“Want to taste you.” He slicked his tongue over the broad tip, capturing the essence of the man he was sure he loved. The salty bitter flavor burst on his tongue and saliva pooled in his mouth. He swallowed rapidly, trying to keep from drooling, and Cliff inhaled sharply.

Putting his hands on Ryan’s shoulders, Cliff made a half-hearted attempt to pull him off. “Don’t need to do this, Ry…”

Closing his eyes, Ryan pictured all the blow jobs he’d watched over the last several hours and concentrated on controlling his gag reflex as he experimented with his favorite bits. Circling his mouth around the tip, a light suction, then a harder pull that elicited a moan from Cliff.

His own answering grin broke the suction so he flicked his tongue out and licked the length like it was his new favorite flavor of ice cream. Tracing over bumps and ridges, he followed a trail back toward the tip. After moistening his lips, Ryan slipped the head of Cliff’s cock back in his mouth and started to bob, in and out, up and down. Hot. Wet. Slick.

A hand slid into Ryan’s hair, and for a moment, he thought Cliff would force him to take more. Then the fingers tightened and drew him back, halting his movements. Ryan tilted his face up, admiring the perfectly defined abs and pecs. He could hardly wait to taste them. He lingered on Cliff’s mouth, remembering the wicked tongue, the hot, willing throat that held him deep. When he finally dragged his gaze all the way up to settle on his friend’s face, Cliff’s normally light eyes were dark, heavy-lidded…sexy.

“Ryan,” Cliff ground out.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. You think we’ve talked enough for now? Can we take this to the bedroom?”

“Are you sure? It’s not the same… I don’t want…”

It might have been crazy, but seeing Cliff’s protectiveness mingled with uncertainty twisted Ryan’s heart even more. He knew exactly what Cliff was thinking. He worried Ryan didn’t realize how profoundly this would change things between them…but he did.

Maybe even more than Cliff did, because Ryan had come to understand something about his friend in the two days since their impromptu Super Bowl celebration. Regardless of why he’d gone to Hard Labour the night of the shooting, Cliff Snyder was no Dom, and a small petty part of his soul hated thinking that, but for fate, Draco Kincaid might have explored that with him first.

“You know I’ve seen men fucking before—we’ve been to clubs together, but at Ty’s suggestion, I’ve spent the last two days watching gay porn. Nothing I’ve seen comes close to all the things I want to do with you. No one else, Cliff. I want you. Want this.” He slid his hands over the smooth skin of Cliff’s ass, then squeezed the taut cheeks.

That seemed to be what Cliff was waiting for. He tugged at Ryan’s shoulders and he rose slowly, his jeans dragging up the length of Cliff’s naked thighs.

“Come on, baby. Let me take you to bed,” Ryan whispered against Cliff’s mouth.

As he took Cliff’s hand and led him down the short hall and into the master bedroom, his heart thundered like a runaway train, headed for the abyss. And now he was certain he wouldn’t fall alone.

*

Cliff allowed Ryan to drag him toward his bedroom, feeling as if he was caught halfway between a nightmare and a wet dream. With a mental pinch, he reminded himself this was Ryan. Rhino. His best friend. His strike mission partner. Not someone he fucked around with—at least not in the literal sense.

As soon as he neared the bed, Ryan turned. “Finish undressing.”

Cliff slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, watching as Ryan shucked his jeans and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Ryan’s erection was thick and long, and pointing straight at Cliff, as if offering proof positive of his desire.

Cliff’s fingers fumbled at the last button when Ryan wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke himself. Shit, the sight already had Cliff’s balls tingling.

Cliff closed the distance between them, drawing Ryan into his arms, needing to feel the solid body, skin touching skin, pushing away any sense of dream. They touched from thigh to chest, shafts mashed together, impossible to ignore.

“If you’re going to back away, this would be the time, Rhino,” Cliff whispered, even as he wrapped his big hand around both their cocks and began to stroke.

“Not going anywhere, Cliff. Lie back on the bed…let me explore?”

“Timber…” he said, falling back on the mattress. Crawling backward until he was in the center, he added, “Lube is in my shaving kit in the bathroom.”

“Some super spy you are,” Ryan said with a laugh as he opened the bedside drawer and drew out a bottle and a foil packet. Cliff’s stomach clenched. Ryan was going to agree to being fucked? Holy shit. Maybe he should let Ryan finish that blow job just to take the edge off. It wouldn’t do to shoot his load on initial penetration.

“I can’t wait to bury myself in you,” Ryan said, sending Cliff’s libido into the stratosphere. “Do we need to use condoms? I’ve been on a mission since my last HIV test. Completely clean. What about you?”

“I’m clean—but Jesus, Rhino—don’t you think—” Cliff shook his head, trying to mash together all of the thoughts into one coherent sentence. Ryan wanted to fuck
him
…somehow that was even hotter. And bareback? Oh holy fuck.

“Cliff…baby. Stop thinking so hard. I can hear the wheels grinding. He tossed the supplies onto the mattress and climbed on the bed, crawling forward until he straddled Cliff’s hips. Trailing his fingers over Cliff’s stomach, causing his muscles to quiver and jump under the touch, Ryan smiled down at him. “I’m not moving too fast, Cliff. I— I know that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But what if you hate it? Shit, Ry. I’m a gay man—believe me when I tell you your ass is dangerously close to becoming an acquired target right now. I’m so hard I could pound nails…but fuck. We’ve been friends for twenty years. Are you seriously saying if we do this and you abso-fucking-lutely hate it, that it won’t bleed over into everything else. Because I’ve lost a hell of a lot in the last couple weeks, but nothing that means more than this.” He waggled his thumb and index finger between them.

Ryan’s mouth curved the slightest bit on an exhale, and the tightness around his eyes softened. He nodded then, as if in response to something he could only hear in his head.

Cliff waited. Ryan never had a thought he wasn’t positive Cliff wanted to hear. Most of the time he was right.

“When’s the last time you had a date? Not a hookup, but a real date that had you hoping to see the guy again?”

Cliff laughed, but it came out bitter. “Hell if I know. Years. That’s something you can’t understand, Rhino. A gay man in the Navy—and I don’t give a shit what they say about DADT—just isn’t going to go around with visions of a second or third date.”

“I call bullshit,” Ryan said. His fingers began to play with Cliff’s chest hair, which made it hard to focus on his words. “More than half the SEALs we know are single…not just you because you’re gay. It’s hard to maintain a relationship when you’re dark for six months on a mission… It’s harder when you can’t talk about what you do—or you’re worried that if your girlfriend found out, she’d hate that essential part of you. There’s nothing different about being gay or straight there. Most men assigned to special warfare suck at relationships. Those few who manage to find someone special and maintain a marriage over the course of a career are pretty damned rare.”

Closing his eyes, Cliff could think of maybe a dozen happily married long-term couples he’d known over the years. Ryan was right, healthy, normal relations and SEAL were often mutually exclusive.

“Hey, pay attention,” Ryan said, giving a sharp tweak to one of Cliff’s nipples.

“Owww…”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk. So hear me out, oh mighty wise-gay man. In your far more experienced opinion…did I enjoy the blow job you gave me the other night?”

“If I had tonsils, you’d have punched them inside out.”

Ryan smiled and flicked Cliff’s other nipple, causing his hips to buck and rubbing their cocks together. They both groaned at the contact.

“Point, Rhino?” Cliff asked through clenched teeth.

“Okay, smartass. So try this on for size. Maybe we’re like one of those couples. Everyone comments on it. We’ve been together for twenty goddamn years and neither of us has found someone else we’d rather spend time with—”

“Well, there’s an endorsement for you…” Cliff interrupted.

“Because…” Ryan continued, “it would mean spending less time together. Admit it, Cliff…if you had to choose between a date with a new guy or watching
NCIS
with me…which would you pick?”

“That totally depends. Does the dude put out on the first date? And are we talking original series or Los Angeles? Because LL Cool J is fucking hot.”

“Exactly, genius. The very fact you have to
think
about it proves my point. A normal dude would go for the date every time. We really are the old married couple everyone accuses us of being—you just don’t want to admit it. You didn’t even ask if it was a rerun.”

Shaking his head at his friend’s foolishness, Cliff grinned. “Okay, I give. You’re going to talk me to death if we don’t have sex. And you promise you’re not going to divorce me if you hate it…” Cliff reached for the lube, but Ryan got there first.

“I do…and that question I asked earlier?”

“Oh my god, what question? You think I’m still capable of thought?” Cliff asked, nearly certain his balls were blue.

Ryan laughed. “That’s good, because I’ve changed my mind about exploring. For now. Turn over, baby. I think I can figure this out.”

Cliff’s eyelids lowered and his cock twitched against Ryan’s. For a moment Ryan was tempted to just squirt the lube over them both and give grinding a try. Then Cliff nodded once, so Ryan moved over, placing a hand on the taller man’s hip as he shifted to his side then onto his belly.

“Talk to me, Cliff…tell me if I do something wrong.” He squirted the lube onto his hand first and lightly brushed his fingers over Cliff’s crack, over his balls, and forward between his legs to stroke the underside of his engorged length. Cliff’s hips rose from the bed, granting him access, pumping into his fist, working up friction.

In this position, grabbing Cliff’s cock from behind, it was the same grip he used on himself, and for a moment it was weird to be giving a hand job and not feel a thing.

Cliff looked back over his shoulder, and their gazes met. Ryan slid his hand back, spreading the lube, his fingers playing over the soft puckered skin that surrounded the tight ring of muscles. He felt rather than saw the twitch and quiver beneath his fingertips. When Cliff’s ass chased his fingers, he slid in a single digit.

“Uhn…” Cliff said, hips pressing back. “Been a long time…”