Crash & Burn by Abigail Roux
“Bullshit,” Zane snarled. “You’re all bullshit.”
“It’s part of going in prepared,” Ty tried.
“I don’t fucking believe this,” Zane muttered.
No one else spoke. They didn’t seem willing to try to explain it further to Zane, and his rant had made no mark on any of them. Zane stomped over and threw himself onto the couch beside Digger, crossing his arms and huffing.
“I came to get my arm bandaged.”
Kelly nodded and went to get his med kit.
The others watched Zane, obviously uneasy now. Nick took a long look at the cigarette he was holding, then slipped it in his mouth. No one made a sound as he lit it.
“Broke your streak,” Kelly said as he sat beside Zane and started working on the new bandage for his arm. “Twenty years.”
“Even condemned men get one last smoke,” Nick said, blowing a stream of fragrant smoke into the air.
“Just wait until Ty gives you his ‘you’re too hurt to fight’ speech and tries to leave you behind,” Zane snapped.
Nick looked from Zane to Ty, expression unreadable.
Ty shrugged, moving closer. He gestured for Liam to join them as he took a bag off his shoulder. He held up a bottle of orange Gatorade and set it on the table, then a stack of shot glasses that he spread out on the wood, and he smiled almost shyly.
“Your dad rid the house of all things alcohol,” he told Zane. He handed Zane a bottle of green tea from the bag of stuff he’d obviously stolen from the kitchen, then glanced around at the others. “No matter what happens tomorrow . . . I figured Nick’s spiked Gatorade was the best we could do.”
“Uh,” Nick said uncomfortably, glancing around the coffee table at everyone. He turned his head to blow smoke away from them. “That’s not a great idea.”
“Why not?” Ty asked, frowning.
“It’s . . .” Nick glanced at Liam and rolled his eyes. “It’s not alcohol.”
“What?” Liam asked.
“I spiked it with my spare bottle of propranolol,” Nick admitted. The others barraged him with questions, and he shrugged. “You think I’m stupid? Of course I had a spare bottle on the boat.”
“What would that have done to me?” Liam demanded.
“In large doses, it behaves sort of like Rohypnol. It makes you extremely suggestible and causes memory loss. It was my backup plan.”
“You wanker!” Liam cried. “I’m starting to feel very victimized by my time with you!”
Nick sat unfazed, blowing smoke toward Liam’s face. “Come at me again, see who winds up on his ass.”
Zane just opened his green tea and took a sip, shaking his head. “You’re all idiots.”
Ty carefully closed the door to the bedroom behind him. He set his gun on the low table by the door and then moved toward the bed.
He stood studying Zane for a moment, then put one knee on the edge of the mattress and leaned over his husband. Zane’s eyes blinked open to meet his.
“Morning, sunshine,” Ty rumbled with a crooked smile.
A few more blinks and Zane made a soft sound of disagreement and tried to roll over. “It’s not morning. Heifer.”
“You awake?” Ty asked as he poked gently at Zane’s ribs.
Zane shut his eyes and grunted. Without warning, he lurched over to yank Ty off-balance, tugged him down on the mattress next to him, and then secured him by curling around him. “Sleepy.”
Ty didn’t bother struggling. He’d been cuddled too many times to even try anymore. Instead, he slid his hand over Zane’s waist and pulled him closer.
“It’s pretty damn useless, us fighting right now,” he murmured against Zane’s cheek.
Zane was quiet long enough that Ty thought he might have actually gone back to sleep. But then he drew a deep breath. “We’re good at it.”
“I’m good at juggling, too. Don’t mean I have to do it all the time,” Ty countered.
Zane cracked one eye open. “You do not juggle.”
Ty pulled back enough to see Zane’s face, “Do too.”
Zane sighed and slid one arm under his pillow. “Don’t leave me behind, Ty. Don’t make me live with that.”
“I was wrong,” Ty said before pushing at Zane’s chest and rolling on top of him.
“Yeah, you were,” Zane slid his hands up Ty’s back under the T-shirt.
Ty brushed his nose and lips against Zane’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about anything but you being safe. It was selfish. And it was wrong. Everything I did was wrong.”
The smile playing at Zane’s lips grew wider as he pulled up one of his legs, their bodies touching from ankle to chest. “And now?”
“I want you with me. ’Til the end. That may be selfish too, but I don’t care.”
“The world out there is burning, Ty.”
Ty ran his finger down Zane’s cheek, nodding. “But we were born in a kiln.”
Zane grinned. “I’m game.”
“I think the word you’re looking for there is prey,” Ty growled before smashing their mouths together. How many times could he fuck up and still gain Zane’s forgiveness? He clamped his hand in Zane’s curls, which were damp for some reason. “How did you get wet?”
Zane inhaled through his nose and let out a shaky sigh. “Showered,” he said, sounding oddly nervous. “Needed to cool off.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of you. Because of your crazy fucking Recon guys. You know what they were doing out there when I walked in?”
“Smoking, drinking, orgy?” Ty guessed.
“Planning on how to get people off the ranch if no one survives Miami.”
Ty nodded, sighing. “We tried to tell you, that’s what we do, Zane. But we’ve always come back.”
Zane clapped his hand over Ty’s mouth. “Just . . . don’t jinx it this time.”
Ty raised his hand in a silent promise.
“That’s the Girl Scout pledge, Ty.”
The sun was barely up when Zane blinked open his eyes. It was still dark in the bedroom that had once been his, and the morning air was cool on his face. It would be chilly when he got out of bed, but for now he was content in a bundle of quilts and sheets and body warmth, and that was how he wanted to stay.
Ty had his head tucked under his pillow. It was his default sleep mode. Zane watched him for a few more minutes, enjoying the fuzzy half-awake feeling of contentment as he stretched out beside his husband.
Finally, Zane rolled closer under the heavy quilt and slid his knee over Ty to rest his leg against the back of Ty’s thigh. He threw an arm over him as well, soaking in the warmth, pressing his nose and mouth against the side of Ty’s shoulder. He could almost fool himself into thinking this was a moment they could afford to enjoy.
Fuck it, though, why couldn’t they grasp for happiness in the midst of all this? The bomb that had taken their bookstore, that had burned down their future, had been reminder enough that happiness could go up in a spark, be gone in an instant. It had also reminded Zane that the only thing in this world that mattered to him was Ty, and he still had him right now. Why the hell not enjoy this quiet, peaceful morning while they could?
Zane closed his eyes, snuggling closer and sighing. Ty smelled vaguely of smoke, leather, dirt, grass, and the frantic, desperate sex they’d had last night.
Zane would never get tired of the feeling Ty gave him, that spark of life he had reignited deep inside him.
Ty raised his head, causing the pillow to fall away, and squinted at Zane. His hair was an insult to humanity. Was it possible for Zane to love this man any more than he did right now?
“What time is it?” Ty grumbled, looking at the window. Dawn was just now stretching toward it. They didn’t have long before the others would wake and they’d need to start moving. Zane’s eyes followed Ty’s. The light was infused with the gloom of winter, even in Texas. It made the warmth they’d created within the blankets that much more inviting. When Zane returned h
He lifted his head enough to press a gentle kiss to Ty’s chin. “Morning.”
Ty’s hands glided up Zane’s sides and along his arms until they were pressing Zane’s hands into the mattress. Zane groaned, but he didn’t try to pull away. Instead, he licked his lips and shifted his hips.
He loved waking up like this. He intended to wake up like this every day for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it might be. Even if today was the last.
He smiled crookedly and kissed Ty. “I love you,” he whispered, voice so low it was almost a breath of air. “So much.”
Ty’s smile filtered into his eyes, even in the dim light. “I love you too. I thought I’d lost you, you know? For real, this time. I . . .”
“You didn’t, Ty.”
Ty swallowed hard, gazing into Zane’s eyes with a swirl of emotions Zane couldn’t begin to understand. “Just those couple of hours, thinking you were gone . . . and you went five years with that feeling.”
“Ty.”
“You’ll never know how strong you are, Zane,” Ty whispered vehemently. He brushed his fingers over Zane’s forehead, swiping a few stray curls aside. “You did something I would never have been able to do.”
Zane’s eyes darted over Ty’s face.
“You’re so much stronger than you could ever know.”
Zane’s hands tightened around Ty’s. “Thank you,” he finally managed. He squeezed Ty hard. “Let’s just agree never to find out if I can do it again, okay?”
Ty nodded earnestly, then schooled his features into something even more serious. “On a less romantic and life-affirming note, if we were at home, I’d already be fucking you by now. Just so you know.”
Zane snorted, trying to keep it low so they wouldn’t wake anyone. “So romantic,” he crooned. He spread his arms to his sides, inviting Ty to proceed. “But this is still awfully nice.”
Ty entwined his fingers with Zane’s again. “This will all be over soon. And then every morning can be like this.”
Zane smiled, trying to keep the concern at bay and almost succeeding. Ty rolled back again, bringing Zane with him until they both lay on their sides facing each other. He threw his leg over Zane’s hip and drew them flush together.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to get out of the deal I made,” he said, his words measured, his brow creasing deeper.
Zane licked his lips, adjusting his head against the crook of Ty’s arm. “With the CIA?”
“With the devil.”
Zane scowled, his eyes on Ty’s.
“I don’t know how,” Ty whispered.
“Then don’t, Ty.”
Ty jerked his head back. “What?”
“Don’t get out of it,” Zane repeated. “We both know we missed it. Us. A gun and a badge and having each other’s backs.”
“Yeah, but . . .”
“CIA Special Agent Grady.” Zane smiled mischievously. “It fits you.”
“Zane.” Ty drew out his name.
“CIA Special Agent Garrett,” Zane added with another quirk of his lips. Ty had been trying to be retired for a whole year. He had failed miserably. This was Ty’s second chance, and Zane was willing to take it with him. “Yeah. I could get used to that.”
“A-are you saying you want to join the CIA?”
Zane exhaled loudly and rolled in Ty’s arms, putting his back to him. Ty tugged him close again. “They said the offer was open way back when we were dealing with Cross. I think it’s time we get back to what brought us together in the first place.”
Ty held his breath for a few seconds. “Murder?”
Zane thought of the rubble in Baltimore that had once been their future, and of the face of the man in Miami who’d tried to take Ty from him. “That too,” he growled.
Ty still seemed confused. He buried his face in Zane’s unruly curls. Zane snuggled close, fitting his ass in the curve of Ty’s groin.
Ty grunted. “If you’re trying to keep me from being turned on, this is not the best way to do it.”
“Why would I try to do that?”
Ty kissed the back of his shoulder, and Zane’s heart rate picked up. This was, bar none, his favorite position no matter which one of them topped. Being able to drag his hand up and down Ty’s hard body as he fucked him. Feeling his impressive muscles flexing as Ty moved. Every part of them touching and rubbing from the tip of his nose to the tips of his toes. Being forced to go slow because they were on their sides and there was little leverage to be found when Ty worked his way inside. The way he could turn his head in a desperate plea for a kiss over his shoulder . . . It never failed to do the trick.
Merely the thought of making love like this was getting Zane uncomfortably hard in record time, just like it always would. And Ty loved it just as much as he did.
Ty inhaled deeply. “You’re an evil, evil man.”
Zane shimmied his hips. “Consider this payback for disappearing on me and making me think you were dead.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” Ty hissed. “And hey, you did it to me too, so we should be even!”
Zane’s eyes fluttered as Ty touched the tip of his nose to Zane’s neck. He grumbled as he glanced over his shoulder, and Ty pushed onto his elbow to kiss him. His hand began to slide toward Zane’s hip, dragging against his muscles, and Zane hummed longingly into the kiss. He had fucked Ty last night, going hard as Ty wrapped around him, going until they were both sweating and panting and Ty was laid out and begging in the most debauched ways possible.
That didn’t mean they couldn’t do it again this morning, nice and slow this time.
Ty was hard against Zane’s ass by the time Zane tossed his leg over Ty’s knees, opening himself up a little more. Ty gasped.
“How long do you need?” Zane finally rumbled against his lips.
“Minutes,” Ty hissed. He was already shoving down his boxers in anticipation of the go-ahead. The head of his cock pushed at Zane’s ass.
Zane stretched and sucked in a breath to steady himself. “You’ve got ten.”
It only took two for Ty to accomplish everything Zane loved about being taken from behind. Ten minutes after his ten minutes were up, Ty was buried deep inside him, clutching at him, rocking into him, fucking him as they kissed over Zane’s shoulder, when someone knocked on the door.
Zane’s fingers dug into Ty’s hip so he wouldn’t move. “Yeah,” he called out, his voice remarkably normal for someone who was about to be caught in a very precarious position.
Ty dragged the heavy quilt up to their shoulders and buried his face against Zane’s neck, rotating his hips just enough to make Zane gasp.
The door creaked open and Owen poked his head in. “You guys up?”
“You could say that,” Ty answered wryly.
Zane tightened his muscles around Ty’s cock, and Ty grunted.
“Irish said to tell you we’re gearing up,” Owen told them. “Wheels up in half an hour.”
“We’ll be down,” Ty told him, somehow able to make it sound casual and sleepy.
Owen nodded and shut the door behind him, and Zane almost immediately began to snicker. Ty rolled him until he had him squished into the mattress, and Zane was still laughing when Ty found his rhythm again.
Zane clomped down the steps. He’d settled for one of his knives in his boot, his sheaths on his wrists, and his gun and a backup under a very light canvas jacket. He’d pretty much stuffed weapons everywhere they could be stuffed, actually.
Ty shuffled after him, dragging his feet and buttoning up his shirt.
“My shades are toast, man,” Ty said as he held the brown aviators up and examined them critically.
“You shouldn’t have sat on them,” Zane said, distracted by the heavenly smell of sizzling bacon and fresh bread wafting through the house.
“Well, I didn’t mean to. These things lasted me three freaking years, an
Zane chuckled. He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and motioned for Ty to go ahead.
Ty stepped past him, glancing up at him with a small smile as he slid his broken sunglasses onto his face. “I expect more fortitude out of my inanimate objects than that.”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “I am not inanimate.”
“Sometimes you’re not.”
“You boys come get breakfast,” Mara said. They’d sent all the ranch staff home for the week to keep them out of danger, and Mara had made herself at home in the gourmet kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ty answered without taking his eyes off Zane. He winked. “Come on, Lone Star.”
Zane followed, buoyed by Ty’s good humor. If this was their last bit of peace, then he would be content. Mara had laid out a full breakfast, and she was still standing at the stove.
Beverly was sitting in the breakfast nook with a cup of coffee. She gave them both a stiff, almost nervous smile. “Good morning, boys,” she offered.
They both responded in kind. Was this what a normal family felt like?
Ty took his sunglasses off again, gently bending the rims, trying to tweak them back into shape.
“What’d those cost you, Ty?” Zane asked him. “Ten bucks? Fifteen?”
Ty glanced up at him distractedly before going back to it. He had his tongue out of his mouth, tip between his teeth, and his brow was furrowed. Zane smirked, watching him surreptitiously. Ty slid them on one last time to test his work and gave Zane a triumphant grin.
Zane offered him a sarcastic thumbs-up. He sat with a jar of picante sauce and pulled the bowl of scrambled eggs to him, then tried to twist the top off the jar with his hurt hand.
Ty watched in abject horror, not saying anything.
“It’s good!” Zane told him, still trying to get the top off.
“Zane,” Ty grunted with a shake of his head. He gestured for the jar.
Zane frowned, but extended his arm. Ty reached across the table and gripped the lid of the jar with his left hand, twisting hard as Zane held the bottom. The lid popped off with a wet sucking sound.