Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Chapter Nine
Spencer was not going to kiss Bacon. He could have, back there on the trail when Bacon had slipped and been all jacked full of adrenaline and gratitude afterward. He was a master of reading body language, and all Bacon’s said was that he wanted to touch Spencer. And he’d given the same signal on the walk to the chow hall—flared nostrils, intent mouth, dark eyes that couldn’t seem to drop Spencer’s gaze.
But Spencer had stayed firm. Aloof. He might be doing Bacon the stupidest favor of his journalistic life and dropping questions about the former XO, but he wasn’t going to compound it by starting something physical with the man. His source. Because that’s really what he was, why Spencer couldn’t even dream of acting on the weird pull between them.
But he stayed strong through what was left of the day after they returned to base, sitting through several logistics strategy sessions, trying to focus on the job he’d come to do. Back in his room, he reviewed his notes, trying out different angles for a possible article opening. The longer he was here, the more his source Harry’s final texts weighed on him—Spencer wanted readers to see these men, see their work as important and vital and most importantly see them as human. Not myths. Not supermen. But humans, worthy of respect and protection.
However, words weren’t cooperating the best that night, and finally the hot, sticky climate caught up with him and he needed a shower more than he needed another five hundred words. Stripping down to his boxers, he grabbed a towel, and not really thinking, he opened the door to the bathroom.
Only to find a very naked, very damp Bacon in front of the sink. Damn, but he was gorgeous, auburn hair dripping onto his sculpted shoulders, tats standing out in stark relief to his pale pink skin. Little freckles dotted his shoulders and chest.
“Can I help you?” Bacon raised an eyebrow. His eyes swept over Spencer’s barely clad form, lingering on his chest and boxers before returning to Spencer’s eyes, holding his gaze, heat arcing between the two of them. The moment seemed to stretch, and Spencer had to force himself to look away before he stepped farther into the room.
“Sorry.” Spencer’s voice sounded rough, even to his own ears. How had he missed the sound of the shower? Or forgotten that this bathroom was shared? He’d had an inappropriate attraction to Bacon, almost from the start, but the tension between them had never been this...potent. Charged. Dangerous. He moved to close the door, but Bacon stepped closer, closing the distance between them.
“Maybe you don’t have to go,” Bacon whispered. His eyes danced, expression almost playful as he trailed a hand down Spencer’s jaw. Spencer liked this side of Bacon far more than the grumpy SEAL who was put out at having to miss the action. This Bacon was pretty damn hard to resist.
But resist he must. “We are not starting something with your roommate five feet away,” he hissed.
“One kiss,” Bacon wheedled. “Way I see it, we can be quiet. And fast. And get this...whatever it is, out of our system. I’m not even sure we even like each other. I just know I need to know what you taste like.”
Bacon made a pretty damn convincing argument, and Spencer let out an involuntary groan. Somehow he found the strength to put up a hand before Bacon could lean in, putting two fingers against his full, warm lips.
“Like? You won’t even tell me your first name. Call me old-fashioned but I’m not kissing you without a name.”
Bacon frowned. “You don’t need a name to kiss me.”
“I’m not calling you Bacon in...an intimate moment.”
“I’m not hauling out the candles and the jazz music here, Spencer. I just wanna kiss you and maybe jerk off. And be quick about it.”
“Sorry. I’m not a Happy Meal with a side of fries at the drive-through window.” Spencer pushed around him to get to the shower, which he turned on. “And I hate to have to tell you this, but a five-minute quickie fumble isn’t going to get anything out of my system.”
He pushed his boxers off and got into the shower then before he could do something absurd like kiss Bacon senseless to make his point that a little taste would never be enough.
“Sleep well, Bacon,” he said before pulling the curtain shut, gritting his teeth against the impulse to haul the confounding man in with him. Luckily, another minute and he heard the bathroom door shut. Temptation gone. That thought should have relaxed him, but instead all he had was the bitter tang of disappointment. The water was tepid at best and no way was he going to linger and rub one out or anything like that. Bacon might be willing and oh-so-tempting, but Spencer could be strong.