Page 9

Chief Aiken Oakley

Dammit .

Oakley felt fileted.

He was already punishing himself for the decisions he’d made in the field, but he was constantly doubting he could get him and Sawyer out of this jungle alive.

It’d been almost impossible when he’d been with his father, and they’d had provisions and weapons.

“You didn’t sacrifice them, chief.” Sawyer had one hand around the back of his neck and the other cupping his cheek. “You did what we do. You did your duty.”

Oakley looked toward the sky and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get the images of his friends’ bodies floating in that dismal river out of his mind. They at least deserved honorable burials.

“We’re boat captains, Oakley. We pull our people out of the water.” Sawyer brushed his uninjured cheek against Oakley’s. “I would’ve done the same thing. I would’ve gone after you too.”

“Fuck,” he moaned. “My heart fuckin’ stopped when I saw you surface.”

“We go into the water on retrievals all the time…only this time, our boat wasn’t there when we tried to return.”

Sawyer pulled on his hair and brought their mouths closer. They hadn’t kissed the other night. Oakley had been trying to keep things casual. But he’d heard so many stories of the Neptune’s crew and their fearless chief that he’d built up an image of what he’d be like if their paths ever crossed.

His mind hadn’t done the real thing justice.

And then Sawyer had told him he admired him, called him a legend. Stared him down in that bar with those mesmerizing green eyes, making his attraction so obvious Oakley was immediately turned on by Sawyer’s confidence.

“Don’t diminish your heroism, Oakley. What you did was brave and took courage. We were taking heavy fire. We were outgunned and outnumbered. I’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you,” Sawyer stressed. “Thank you, thank you for saving me.”

Persistent appreciation was whispered into his mouth, delicious gratitude grazing his dry lips.

Oakley pressed closer, needing more contact. The warmth of Sawyer’s mouth ignited something deep within him.

A feeling of comfort…forgiveness. Either of himself or from his comrades. Sawyer was right. Oakley had done his job.

He’d pulled more than one SEAL out of the water and gotten ’em into the Chariot , but the rocket strike had killed them all.

He’d lost dozens of men, but he saved one.

Their intimacy was serenaded by chirping cicadas, the soft song of bluebirds, and the flute-like notes of thrushes.

The kiss was laced with discovery, relief, and a whole lot of promises he hadn’t realized he needed.

Oakley got lost in Sawyer’s demanding tongue and the deep groans he made when their cocks nudged each other.

Oakley began to walk them backward, needing a sturdy surface until the sound of shifting leaves, crackling twigs, and a low growl reminded him of where he was.

Sawyer stiffened.

“Don’t. Move,” he murmured, gripping Sawyer tighter. “Don’t even breathe.”

The sweet whistles they’d been surrounded by were mere echoes compared to the electric tension in the air accented with each deliberate paw-fall.

Sawyer began to tremble in his arms as the growls grew closer and more menacing.

“Everything inside of me is telling me to run, Oakley.”

“I know. But don’t.”

Oakley eased his face to the side and it didn’t take him long to see the big cat stalking them less than five yards away.

It was crouched behind a fern bush, his muscled shoulders gracefully shifting side to side, sensing the thrill of the hunt and preparing to pounce.

Its golden coat was adorned with distinctive rosettes. Its vivid eyes, framed by dark rings of black, gleamed like polished amber. Its gaze was unwavering.

Oakley eased one arm from behind Sawyer’s back and slid it down his thigh until his fingertips grazed the butt of his firearm.

With a quick flick, he unbuckled the top of the holster and removed the Glock.

“You’re gonna shoot it?” Sawyer’s eyes widened.

“I’m gonna do everything in my power not to.”

The moment he raised his arm toward the sky, the cat’s glare switched from patience to determination.

In a swift move, Oakley spun Sawyer behind him. At the same time, the jaguar let out a snarling growl and sprinted from its hiding place.

He yelled as loud as he could and fired two rounds in the air that reverberated like claps of thunder. It sent not only their hunter scurrying away from them but the monkeys, iguanas, and all the nearby birds as well.

The shots were a stark and jarring intrusion into an otherwise serene world that left a lingering echo.

As their predator bolted into the depths of the forest, it let out a vengeful roar as if it were pissed that, as of now, he was no longer the undisputed king of his realm.

Oakley’s chest deflated as he released a long-held breath at the same time Sawyer dropped to his ass.

“Fuckin’ hell, man.”

“I know,” Oakley answered. “That was my fault. I know better.”

“Damn straight you should. Stop trying to seduce me, Indiana Jones, and just get us the fuck outta here alive, preferably with none of my limbs chewed off.”

Oakley frowned and turned in surprise ready to give Sawyer a piece of his mind until he saw his teasing smile.

“Are your drawers still clean, or do you need a minute?”

Sawyer’s chuckle was choppy while he was still trying to catch his breath from the near-death experience.

“I think I’m good,” he answered, flipping him off.

“Good. Now get off that ground before ants cover you.”

Oakley held out his hand and helped his partner up, then gave him back his weapon.

Hopefully, I won’t need that anymore, but damn, I’m glad we had it.

Sawyer got back on his boots, brushing off anything that may have taken interest during the couple of minutes he was down there.

With another quick look at his compass to ensure they were still on the right heading, Oakley pulled out his knife and returned to slicing vines out of their path.

“We’ve only got two hours until dusk. It’s time to start looking for another place to sleep…and rest.”

He was sure they’d walked at least ten miles. If the terrain hadn’t been so rough, they probably could’ve done fifteen.

Needless to say, his thighs were burning and he was thirsty and starving.

The skies began to darken to a hazy, indigo-gray, and Oakley was beginning to worry about adequate shelter and if they would have to eat frog legs or one of the many tarantulas he’d seen on their trek.

Sawyer’s breathing was labored, his steps slowing every hundred or so yards.

Then he heard it.

Oakley stopped so abruptly that Sawyer stumbled into him, clutching his shoulder so he didn’t fall.

“What, what is it?”

“Shhh,” Oakley ordered.

“Oh fuck, not another carnivore.”

“Sawyer, shut the hell up.”

He’d been right. To his left was the faint flow of rushing water.

“Oh, thank god.”

He continued to follow the sound until they came to a small stream covered with boulders that created a shallow waterfall.

Nothing had ever looked more glorious.