Colorado Connection (Colorado Heart Book 6) (2 page)

“Uncut, nice.” Matthew toyed with the tip of Jazz’s dick, sliding his thumb over the loose foreskin that was growing tighter and tighter the longer he touched Jazz. “Tell me, Jazz, does this feel good?”

Jazz gulped in a breath and moaned. He rocked his hips forward and nodded. His eyes were wild, his skin damp with a light sheen of sweat.

“You still want that kiss?” Matthew whispered in his ear.

“Please,” Jazz begged as he bucked in Matthew’s hand.

Matthew pressed his chest against Jazz but kept his hand down Jazz’s pants, stroking slowly. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine it was anyone other than the guy who had treated him like crap since the day they’d met. He didn’t want to want Jazz, but he freaking did want the rude fucker who’d spent months picking at him.

Anger spiked in Matthew, pissing him off. The past slammed to the front of his mind—the dark alley, the cold nights.
Fuck no!
Jazz had come in here, thinking he could use him, but Matthew wasn’t going to be used ever again. He kept stroking Jazz, liking the feel of Jazz’s thick cock in his hand a little too much. He placed his lips beside Jazz’s ear, anger keeping his words crisp.

“I’m not some toy you can use to help you get over a girl. You want a kiss from me, you need to mean it.”

Jazz stopped pumping his hips so Matthew started moving his hand more, using all the tricks he knew to force an orgasm.

“Next time you come looking for me, it had best be me you want, not someone else. You understand?” He squeezed Jazz’s dick, not too hard but enough to get Jazz’s attention as he pushed away from the wall and from Jazz. As his thumb brushed over the tip of Jazz’s cock, Jazz whimpered. When he stepped back, Jazz looked down at his crotch then back at Matthew. Jazz didn’t say a word as he stood straight and moved close to Matthew. His hands didn’t touch Matthew’s body but he moved them so they skimmed Matthew’s sides. He locked eyes with Jazz and Matthew saw hurt mixed with lust in the brown depths.

He thought Jazz was going to walk away. Instead, he leaned in even closer and placed his head on Matthew’s shoulder, wrapping an arm loosely around his waist. Matthew didn’t plan on hugging Jazz back, but Jazz’s body felt so good that Matthew lazily placed his hands on Jazz’s hips. He wished they were friends or at least could get along, because it would have been nice to sink to his bed and hold this man all night, taking and giving comfort as they forgot the war around them.

Jazz swayed against Matthew, sending sparks of lust through him as their dicks brushed together. “Fuck,” Matthew hissed.

Jazz grew bolder and ground harder against Matthew. His shoulders rose and fell as he panted against Matthew’s neck, all the while grinding heavy, causing Matthew’s dick to swell even more.

“Why the fuck do
you
feel so good in my arms?” Matthew asked.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here and asked you like that,” Jazz whispered.

He expected Jazz to leave after those words, but Jazz didn’t step away, didn’t move to go, and Matthew wanted Jazz even more. They were both edging close to an orgasm, and he didn’t want his spunk in his pants. Hell, living in this small metal can with Bounder had limited his jackoff time, and right now, he was so close to the edge he just wanted to feel another guy cum in his arms, smell the scent of sex, taste the musky spunk of another man, and feel—feel anything other than death and destruction.

“Let me suck you?” Jazz asked.

Matthew was going to say no when Jazz dropped to his knees and pulled at Matthew’s pants. He should have turned away, should have pushed Jazz to the ground and ran out, but he let Jazz wrap his full, red lips around his cock, sucking him down hard, holding onto his ass and playing with his hole. It felt too good to say no, and he was so freaking close he couldn’t stop. Lack of sexual contact had him coming seconds after Jazz sucked him in. He spilled his seed deep down Jazz’s throat before he'd even had a chance to grab onto the guy’s head and fuck his face.

Jazz stood, his legs looking wobbly, gaze flying everywhere but to Matthew. After a second, he realized Jazz had blown his load in his hands and was trying not to make a mess. Matthew grabbed a few napkins and passed them to Jazz who gave a tight smile as he wiped up his mess.

“You regret that?” Matthew asked.

Jazz gave his head a quick shake but still didn’t meet Matthew’s gaze as he zipped up and took off, slamming the door behind him. Matthew dropped to his bed, staring down at his limp cock hanging out of his pants. He heard Bounder call out to someone outside their quarters and decided to tuck himself in as he stretched out on the mattress.
What the fuck just happened?

“Hey, Tex, you finally smell nice after a good long shower. You ready to eat something?” Bounder asked as he stepped in and tossed his dirty clothes into a pile beside his bed.

Matthew rolled to his side then swung his feet to the floor, sitting up, praying Bounder couldn’t tell what had just happened. “Sure, I could use some food.”

“I could use a sweet fuck and some tequila. Damn, living over here isn’t good for the balls or the soul. What type of girl would you go for right now?” Bounder asked.

Bounder was nice but didn’t have a clue. Though Matthew had not tried to hide his love of men too much, Bounder didn’t get it. Matthew laughed off the comment and followed Bounder out of their little box home as they headed to the mess hall.

He didn’t see Jazz again that evening, but when he dropped into bed that night, his thoughts were on Jazz sucking him, touching him, of him running his fingers down Jazz’s body to his cock. Fuck, that cock had felt so good in his hands, and he wanted it in his mouth, in his hands again, and in his ass. He was screwed, no question about it, and though Jazz had proved to be nothing but an annoying little shit in the past, Matthew wished he was being screwed at the moment by Jazz.

Chapter Two

Jazz hated that he’d lied. Well, he hadn’t actually lied about everything. Jenny had dropped him like a hot potato, running off after the next best dick once he’d left town, but he’d lied about why he had wanted to kiss Matthew. Fuck, he still wanted to kiss the man since he’d been denied the pleasure. He bit his lower lip, wishing his dick wouldn’t fill out as he thought about how Matthew had touched him. He replayed in his mind the moment when Matthew had shoved him up against the wall, and ran a skilled hand down to Jazz's cock, then stroked him so sweetly.

Jazz grazed his hand over his belly and slipped his fingers under the waistband of his pants, wrapping them around his dick and giving himself a good tug before stroking like Matthew had. Of course, he couldn’t get it right but he was coming close to what it had felt like. Jimmy and Slider were sleeping close, so he couldn’t get wild, but they were both snoring so they wouldn’t hear him getting busy with his memory of Matthew.

He reached under his cot and grabbed a washrag he’d stored there strictly for this purpose and began stroking again as he thought of Matthew’s deep voice, his huge arms, the way he walked—fuck, he had it bad and he still freaking wanted that kiss. He needed that kiss. His cock was so fucking hard, and he wanted to feel Matthew touching him again. The thought of Matthew dropping to the ground to suck him set him off and he blew, coming hard into the rag as he buried his face in his pillow. The orgasm was good, but a letdown since he didn’t have Matthew in bed with him, holding him down, kissing him, touching him. All he wanted was Matthew to touch him again, to hold him, to finally kiss him. Anything, as long as Matthew did something to him.

Slider or maybe Jimmy snorted loudly, and he stilled, praying both men were still asleep. He didn’t want to answer questions. It was bad enough he wanted to fuck another guy, but fucking a guy in their unit was crazy stupid.

The next day, they weren’t scheduled to go out to the city. Instead, they had a rare day off. He avoided Matthew like the plague, making excuses when Slider begged him to go ask Tex a question. Strange emotions filled him when he spied Matthew across the exercise yard with his shirt off, shorts slung low on his hips, sweat covering his torso. His desire sparked too hot. He needed to get over the guy, because Matthew had left little doubt about how he felt. Hell, Tex hadn’t even kissed him, and that had hurt.

After he'd finished his pushups, Jazz turned to find Matthew sitting in the shade, his gaze drilled in right on the spot where Jazz was standing. Jazz shivered and had to turn away quickly or risk a boner. He cut his workout short, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed to the shower stalls that sat off the the side in the main yard. They weren’t like the showers back home, just slapped together pieces of sheet metal and wood to give some illusion of privacy. Usually, the worst part about the showers was only cold water sprayed from the showerhead, which at the moment was perfect because it would keep his cock small. The last thing he wanted was to have Matthew see just how desperate he was.

That night, he ate at a quiet table away from his group. He felt weird about how he’d begged Matthew for it. He’d worked so hard to hide the truth since meeting Matthew a year ago when the dude had been freshly assigned to their unit. Matthew was the type of guy he found sexy as hell. Maybe he should have stuffed his lust and ignored the pull to know what Matthew tasted like. Hell, he needed to get a grip or risk losing everything.

He tossed and turned in his small cot, waking early and heading to their briefing room, surprised when he found Matthew already in his seat. Jazz paused at the door, blood thundering through his ears. For a second, he just stared at the beautiful man, then Matthew turned his head Jazz’s way and heat blossomed. He moved to his seat, trying to ignore the desire racing through him.

“I didn’t know you would already be here.” Jazz worked hard to act normal and not like he wanted to get down on his knees and beg Matthew for another taste of his cock.

“I always show up early. What are you doing here this early?”

Matthew’s question was innocent enough on the surface, but he read innuendo into it, twisting the words, searching for a hidden meaning. Jazz swallowed, shaking his head. He stood from the chair he’d just dropped into and moved to leave the room to hunt down some coffee. He really needed a stiff vodka to take care of this mess, but coffee was the most he could hope for.

He half-expected Matthew to follow after him. Not that they were friends, hell, they weren’t even friendly with each other, and that was his fault. He’d been an ass to Matthew and made it clear he didn’t like him, but that was the problem, he liked Matthew too much.

Jazz made it back to the room with a cup of coffee in hand and was glad the rest of the guys were there. Sitting in a room alone with Matthew would be painful after what had happened. Jazz took his seat and settled in quickly, staying quiet.

Bounder tossed a wadded up piece of paper at him, hitting him in the face. Jazz’s gaze shot up and found half the guys smirking. Matthew’s head was buried in a folder as he studied the material inside, ignoring their antics. Did the guys know or were they just being jerks because he looked tired? Normally, he would say something snarky, but he just slid down in his chair and tried to focus on the board at the front where their mission for the day was detailed instead of obsessing about Matthew and his freaking hot body.

Chapter Three

Jazz had been quiet in the days since they’d come together. The jokes were few and far between, and most of the guys in their unit were starting to catch on that something was off. Hell, he’d been a jerk to Jazz, reaching into his pants and jacking him like that, but with the way Jazz had acted towards him in the past, he’d been angry and wanted a little revenge. That he’d been able to extract his revenge while getting some good sex had been a huge bonus, but it might have been too much, based on Jazz’s reaction.

If it were anyone other than Jazz, he would ask for a replay. When Jazz had dropped to his knees and circled his lips around Matthew’s dick, it had felt too good. He wanted that feeling again and again, but Jazz was too unpredictable.

Matthew turned away from his guys and pinched the base of his dick, praying he didn’t go full-on wood because he didn’t want the hassle of dealing with their jokes at the moment. They were out again, searching the city for a rumored cell of hostiles hiding amongst the citizens. Though the task seemed mundane at times, they couldn’t afford to neglect their duties.

Bounder, Spike, Baller, and Doc headed into a building with him, where he would set up on top, scanning the streets for any activity that could potentially harm his men. Spike and Baller cleared the stairs for him, while the rest of the grunts did a sweep of the building. He could hear their chatter over his headset. By the time he had his rifle set up, the building he was using as his perch was cleared.

“Tex, you think Jazz is sick?” Bounder asked.

Matthew forced himself to calm but worried why Bounder had asked him this question. “No, he’s fine.”

“I was just wondering. I know he’s an ass, but I saw him come out of our hut the other day and since then he’s seemed off.”

Heat filled Matthew. What the hell would he have done if Bounder had come in while they were getting their rocks off? “His girlfriend broke up with him in a letter. He needed someone to talk to.”

“And he chose to have that chat with you?” Bounder sounded totally shocked.

“I don’t know. I need to concentrate. I don’t like this today.” The air felt a bit off, the community too quiet. They’d done this enough times he could judge the area based on the way people behaved and the sounds from the community. It was as if this neighborhood was dead, and he didn’t like it. The lack of activity made him jumpy. He couldn’t talk about Jazz with Bounder and pay enough attention to what was going on around them. The streets were too dangerous to lose focus, so any talk of Jazz would have to wait.

“Sure, Tex.” Bounder picked up his binoculars and began scanning the streets. The guys moved on to another building, knocking, questioning, searching. They must have appeared very scary to unarmed, innocent women and children of the area. There were few men left. Most of them had either joined the cause or been killed in the conflict. There wasn’t much room for conscientious objectors here, so the males in the community were either barely boys or older than dirt.

The weather had started to turn cool, but the heat on top of the building was brutal. After they’d been at it for a few hours, he shifted and took a sip of water, stretching his back and arms while he took a break. Bounder had been mostly silent as they scanned the city, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Matthew was about to roll over and take up his post again when Bounder tapped his shoulder.

“Eleven-o-clock, movement.”

Matthew set up, sighting the street just off to his left. He scanned, seeing a short person, most likely just a boy, head down, walking towards the area where his guys were moving through a building.

“We’ve got a bogey coming up behind you guys, look alive,” Matthew said.

“Tex, how far away?” Slider asked.

“About two hundred yards from your position. He’s on the south side of the street, walking slowly. He’s carrying something but he’s facing away from me. I can’t tell what it is.”

Bounder crawled to the corner of the building and looked over the edge. “I don’t like this. I need someone to figure out what he’s carrying.”

“Baller here. I’m moving closer to get a better look.”

Matthew’s breath hitched as his heart rate increased. He took a calming breath, narrowing his focus. Emotions had no place in an operation like this. It wasn’t the first time his skills had been called upon, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Tell me what you see, Baller,” Bounder said.

“Nothing yet. He’s in the shadows. I-I’m… Oh shit! He’s got a bomb.” Baller’s voice went up in pitch.

“Are you sure?” Matthew asked.

“Tex, take the shot,” Baller said.

“I need confirmation,” Matthew said.

Doc turned and ran up the street towards Baller, stopping to lift his scope. “It’s a bomb,” Doc said.

The kid stepped out into the street, and Matthew saw him reach under his arm as he took off at a run towards their team. He had to trust Baller’s word or risk his team.

As he breathed out, he gently squeezed the trigger with his index finger, saying a little prayer as the sound split the air, reverberating around them.

It seemed like forever for the bullet to fly to its target but it really wasn’t long. The kid dropped, doors either flew open or slammed shut. A bird circled overhead and let out a shrill cry. Two seconds later, an explosion rocked the street where the kid had been. Shock washed over the cityscape, and everything froze. Matthew heard chatter, knew they were going to be called on to leave the area. Stress followed on the heels of relief.

His guys hunkered down, and Bounder came close again, placing his hand on Matthew’s shoulder.

“Tex, you okay?”

“Yeah, just another fucking great day on the job.”

Bounder popped him on the shoulder. “He had a bomb. Our men would be dead.”

He nodded once and began disassembling his rifle. “Time to roll. We’re going to catch hell if we stay.”

Bounder helped him finish packing up. Matthew checked the rooftop where they’d been stationed to make sure he had everything. Bounder led the way, and he followed close behind. Their transport was waiting, and guys piled in as helicopters hovered overhead. A group of hostiles was heading towards them fast. They took off, moving out of the area, allowing special forces to swoop in and take care of the matter. No one had died on their side, but tensions were high. He hated that he’d killed a kid, bomb or no bomb. What kind of monster would put their kids in harm’s way like that and strap a bomb to them? The little kid may not have had any idea what he was walking into. It made Matthew annoyed, and sad, but mostly so angry that rage filled him.

They made it back to base safely, and the smack talk began immediately after they'd spilled out of the transport vehicle. He said nothing as he stepped away from the group.

“Where are you going, Tex? You saved the day,” Slider said.

“Just putting things away,” Matthew replied.

“Fuck, you were on,” Baller crooned as he danced around.

Matthew smiled and shrugged, feeling a little weird that he’d just killed a young boy and these men wanted to celebrate. The kid was going to blow himself up anyway, but still, it was strange for him to celebrate the death of a child. Though he’d kept his men safe, he couldn’t be happy about something so disgusting.

“We’re the luckiest sons of bitches out here,” Jimmy shouted. “Tex is the best! Fuck yeah, Tex is the best.”

Matthew’s gaze swung over the group and paused on Jazz, just waiting for him to say something snarky. In the past, this was just the type of situation which would've brought out the attitude from Jazz. Instead, the guy stayed silent, eyes full of emotion.

Matthew headed to their debriefing room, knowing the uppers would want to talk to him. The guys cleaned up their transport then followed him over. The talk lasted about an hour, and he was free to go. He cleaned and stowed his rifle under his bunk, grabbed a towel from his stash of laundry, and headed to the showers. Most of the guys had already washed the grime from their bodies and were in the mess hall probably discussing what he’d done.

Matthew stepped under the cold spray of water and closed his eyes. He hated that he’d killed someone today. The water washed the dirt from his skin, but it didn’t wash away the pain. Someone cleared their throat then tapped on the stall. Matthew flashed open his eyes, turned, and came face-to-face with Jazz. Everything he’d been holding in came to the surface, threatening to spill out. He shook his head to push away the anger and sadness.

“You saved my life today. Thank you,” Jazz said.

“I killed a kid today,” Matthew spit out.

“No, you didn’t kill him. He killed himself. He was carrying a bomb. You know what would have happened, right? We would all be dead, and you and Bounder would be stuck out there, pinned in, or worse, back here crying in your coffee. You saved us.”

He gave his head a sharp shake. “Stop, I can’t take it right now.”

Jazz reached over the stall wall and cupped Matthew’s cheek. “You’re the best, and I’m glad I didn’t die because you still owe me a kiss.”

Matthew’s eyes opened wide and he was about to say something before clamping his lips closed again. Jazz winked and slid his tongue out, swiping it over his teeth. Matthew rolled his eyes. “I owe you a kiss. Are you freaking kidding me? Are you going to hold that over my head after a day like today?”

Jazz nodded and pulled his hand back then turned, taking a few steps before coming to a stop and glancing over his shoulder. “When I come looking for that kiss, I swear I’ll be ready to kiss you, not some ghost. I won’t be searching for comfort. It will be because I want you, Matthew, not someone else. Understand?”

About two seconds after Jazz took off walking away, he realized Jazz had used his real name and not called him Tex. The use of his name mixed with the look in Jazz’s eyes made Matthew feel like he really meant it. He watched as Jazz headed to the mess hall. His thoughts turned dirty as he imagined those huge thighs wrapped around him as he slid into Jazz’s hole. Even the cold water wasn’t enough to keep is dick soft.

Matthew finished rinsing and turned off the spigot, leaning his forearms against the stall walls as he let his head hang between his arms. The image of that boy dropping to the ground filled his mind. Every kill, even the ones that were more than justified like the boy who would have blown his unit to hell, were tough on him. He hated causing pain, and even if the kid would have committed suicide, he'd had someone who had once cared about him. It was sickening what was going on in this country. People were dying, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Everything was bad, and he wished he could do more to make it better, but it wasn’t really the people on the street’s fault. It was the government, or someone with money pulling all the strings, abusing their power. If only he could get to them and kill them, then maybe life over here would be better for everyone.

The sounds of guys leaving the mess filtered over the sandy lot, and he straightened, stuffing his feelings, searching for the balance that would keep him sane and allow him to function. When he’d signed up for the Marines, he hadn’t really thought it would be like this. Connor and Lane had told him it would be difficult, but he hadn’t realized it would be near impossible to rationalize the job he was charged with against the morals he believed in. It wasn’t so much that he was killing bad people, but many of the people he had to shoot were too young to know what they were doing. Stuffing his feelings down was really the only way to get through it all.

After tugging on his shorts and a T-shirt, he walked back to the box he and Bounder slept in, stowing his things before heading to the mess hall for food. The rest of the evening was chill because someone was sponsoring a movie night, giving them something to think about other than death and destruction.

He half-expected Jazz to come to him, but he didn’t see Jazz again except for at work. It was another five days before he found himself beside Jazz without the rest of his unit crowded around. They were finishing up with their motor pool duties, and somehow, Jazz had been assigned a task near him. The area went from teaming with people to near empty as the day wound down. Matthew stepped into the building where their tools were stored and headed to the racks to put away his tools. He was shocked when he turned and found Jazz right next to him.

“Did you plan this?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah, I want that kiss.”

Matthew backed away a step, and Jazz followed him. “Do you want to kiss me, or are you still just using me?”

Jazz lifted his hand and cupped Matthew’s cheek. “It’s you, I want to kiss you.”