Page 64 of Constantly Cotton

He was going to have to. He knew that on one level. But in the past month, sitting with the soldiers who worked under Jason in his unit, Cotton got two feelings. The first was that these people would die for him—no questions, no hesitation. Jason inspired that sort of loyalty, and Cotton could see why. He was smart, but he was also compassionate. He made decisions easily and with a measured consideration of all the angles. But he was not afraid of input, or even good-natured teasing.

And he didn’t allow his staff to take risks that he wouldn’t take himself.

The fact that there were people begging to be put on his security detail—and spend their vacation time doing so—told him all he needed to know.

But the other feeling that wouldn’t leave Cotton alone was that Jason, for all his personability and good qualities as a boss, was still the boss. The buckdidstop with him. He didn’tallowthe fuckups of his superior officers to color the good work he felt his crew did.

That’s why Jason had ignored his misguided CO and had taken those kids to safety himself.

That’s why he’d given Burton, who had been in the field, the freedom to choose whether or not to take a contract on a man who might be innocent.

And that’s why he’d taken on an assignment—sin-eating, he’d called it—that would all but destroy his career but was the only thing he could do that made any sense.

Thatwas why he was the world’s loneliest man.

And Cotton, who had gotten to be in his arms for the last few weeks, who had made love to the Colonel, the man in charge, the CO to all the ubercompetent, really amazing, super fun soldiers in their security details, was so far out of his sphere of influence, so far out of his scope, that Cotton was, in fact, the perfect man to keep him company.

Cotton didn’t want to rule the world. He didn’t want to eat anybody’s sin. He just wanted to make sure he could take care of himself so he could take care of the people he loved.

Like Jason Constance.

He loved Jason Constance.

He wouldn’t say it. He’d fallen in love about a hundred times in the past three years. Once, he’d been in love with John. Another time with Dex. For a heartbeat, it had been with Henry. And that didn’t even count the men he’d thought he’d been dating, who had wanted to use him, his pretty body, his pretty face. But he’d begun to realize that summer that this wasn’t really “in love.”

Sure, helovedthe people in his life who had been good to him—John, Dex, Henry. They cared for him in return, all of them, and he was starting to realize how much he owed them for the person he was becoming.

But he hadn’tlovedthe sugar daddies who’d just wanted to use him. He hadn’tlovedthe other porn models who wanted to hook up because sex was cheap, easy, safe, and free. He certainly hadn’tlovedthe boyfriend who’d gotten him kicked out of the house, although he hoped Brent had been able to pick up his life and move on after he’d almost had everything ripped apart by Cotton’s parents.

He had loved his little sister, though, and thinking about her, he still did.

And he was pretty sure he loved Jason Constance.

At the very least, he’d die for the man. But God, by all Cotton had begun to learn about the world in the past few months, he really didn’t want to leave him alone in a darkened room.

His musings were interrupted by the feel of Jason’s hands on his hips, the heat of him along Cotton’s back, the pressure of his groin against Cotton’s backside. Cotton closed his eyes and tilted his head back, reveling in being alone with him, in his heat, in their touch.

“You’re brooding,” Jason whispered in his ear.

“Not possible,” Cotton told him, not able to smile. “I didn’t turn off the lights or make the announcement.”

Jason laughed softly and kissed the side of his neck. Cotton let him, enjoying that for a moment. Jason liked to do things—touchy things—that had nothing to do with “This will get your dick hard” and everything to do with “This will make your heart beat and your chest swell and your stomach erupt into butterflies, and you will weep wanting to be touched like that some more.”

Cotton had felt a little like a fraud when he realized that kisses on his neck or a nibble on his ear or fingertips along his waist to his hip could make him fully ready, cock dripping, asshole clenching, begging and needy for sex in a moment’s time. Wasn’t he supposed toknowabout sex? Wasn’t sex histrade?

Except there was nothing worklike about the sex he had with Jason. There were no “Hey, this trick usually gets a guy off with maximum intensity and minimum effort, so let’s do that so I can sleep tonight” moments.

With Jason, sex wasn’t abouttradeat all. In fact, it was all aboutwonder, and Cotton hadn’t known he could still feel wonder, but he did.

Jason continued to kiss down his neck, his bare hands shoving up under Cotton’s T-shirt and spanning his waist, stroking his stomach, teasing the skin on his ribs not quite enough to tickle.

“Jason?” Cotton asked breathlessly, lost in the swirl of wonder that always threatened to submerge him.

“What, angel?”

Ah! Even his breath in Cotton’s ear was like light and sound and electricity, all of it zapping straight to the erogenous zones.

“Your touch makes me fly,” he said, hoping he was even coherent. “I want to make you fly too.”