Page 60 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

Troy’s brow creased, and his voice came out thick and quiet. “For what?”

“Thinking can be pretty dangerous,” Troy chided.

“Tell me about it.”

“Why shouldn’t it be? Pretty sure worrying was what got us into this mess in the first place.”

Oscar bent down, kissing Troy gently. Only then did he realize there was tension in Troy’s body following their conversation. As if by magic, the tightness in his jaw lessened as their lips met, and he melted against Oscar. Troy let out a low whimper, trying to wrap his leg around him.

Oscar grunted when the pressure pushed against his hip, drawing him back. “Ah, careful.”

Troy pulled back, looking down and wincing. “Shit, sorry.”

Oscar shook his head. “It’s okay, but I think the meds have worn off, and I might have done some hip work earlier.”

Troy smiled. “More than a little.”

“Okay, a lot of hip work.”

Troy carefully nudged Oscar onto his back and slid over so he could straddle his thighs.

Oscar looked up in awe of Troy as he perched above him.

Troy had always been beautiful in Oscar’s eyes, from the first moment he’d seen him after knocking him and someone else over in some stupid fight.

Troy’s eyes always trapped Oscar’s gaze, and his body had always been a wonderland of pleasure, with even a flash of his bare skin from beneath a shirt being enough to send Oscar’s heart racing and his mind wandering.

“Well,” Troy began, running a hand over Oscar’s chest. “Maybe that means I should be doing the hip work next time.”

Oscar raised a brow, his groin stirring. “That so?”

“I mean, you already fucked me pretty good. I think it’s only fair that next time, you get to lay back while I do all the work,” Troy said, rolling his hips teasingly.

Oscar felt himself grow hard, pressing against the back of Troy’s ass as he imagined just what that would look like. From the pleased smirk on Troy’s face, the other man was more than aware of what he was doing and was going to milk it for all it was worth.

Oh, he was going to sleep well tonight.

Oscar wasn’t sure how dating someone for a day meant he got wrangled into doing tasks for them, but that was apparently how it worked.

Troy had spent the morning whipping up breakfast and cleaning the kitchen.

Oscar couldn’t recall Troy being that tidy before, and then he spent the afternoon dragging boxes out of closets and storage.

Oscar stared down at one box. “So why exactly am I being dragged into your attempt at getting onto the cover of Home and Garden?”

Troy sat on the couch, legs curled under him as he rummaged through a box of knick-knacks. “I realized how bare the place was when you came over yesterday. I got to thinking that I have all this stuff I’ve grabbed over the years that I haven’t dragged out.”

“So, you dragged them out, and now I’m the one who gets to help you drag it onto the walls and furniture,” Oscar said.

Troy looked up with a grin. “And when we’re done with my place, we can hop over to yours and get you set up.”

“What makes you think I need to be set up?”

Troy arched a brow. “You telling me you have everything unpacked and decorated?”

Oscar frowned, turning his attention back to the box in front of him. “That would assume I have things to use as decoration.”

“How do you have nothing to decorate your apartment with?”

“I don’t own things to decorate with. I mean, most of the time, I knew it was only a matter of months before I would be slung back into the desert, so what was the point of trying to make my house look all pretty? It was just going to get thrown back in boxes anyway.”

Troy cocked his head, pushing the box away and hopping up. “Then I guess that means you’ll have to get some stuff. I mean...unless you’re supposed to be leaving again.”

The sudden change in Troy’s voice brought Oscar’s head up with a frown. He could see the worry plain as day on Troy’s face before the man turned to hide it.

Troy looked at the frame above the front door. “I think I have a sign somewhere around that would go great there. Says something in Latin, but I can’t remember what it means. But it would look great.”

Oscar pushed himself to his feet, sidling up behind Troy and pulling him back against his chest. Troy looked up at him, though it was hard to do without staring directly at Oscar’s chin. Oscar bent his head, kissing the startled man on the end of the nose.

“I’m going to have a position here for quite a while. So I’m not going anywhere,” Oscar assured him.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Troy said.

“We’re just going to pretend like you weren’t worried about it?”

“Are we going to pretend that you haven’t been sitting, grumping about putting stuff up instead of doing it because you’re quietly waiting for your pain meds to kick in?”

Oscar scowled at him but said nothing. He was endlessly thankful Troy had gone out of his way to go across the base to fetch his medicine for him.

By the time Oscar woke up that morning, his hip felt like it was having a complete fit, and he wasn’t sure how many times he would have to stop on the way to his apartment.

Troy wrapped a hand around Oscar’s wrist, leaning back into him. “That’s what I thought.”

Oscar smirked at the man’s smugness but was won over by the open display of pure affection.

Years ago, he’d suspected Troy was fond of throwing something out there deliberately meant to rile him up, only to follow with a far more distracting show of affection.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Troy meant each and every gesture, he might have hated it.

As it was, Oscar knew he was being played but loved it all the same.

“You don’t have to help me,” Troy finally said, smiling.

Oscar snorted. “Right, like I’m going to sit around and watch you do it. No, I’m here, so I’m going to work.”

Troy rolled his neck, looking up at Oscar innocently. “Well, now you say that.”

“Oh, hell.”

“Do you remember that collection of action figures I had?”

“Oh, Jesus, Troy, you still have your toys?”

“They’re action figures! The real toys are in the bottom drawer beside the bed.”

Well, that had Oscar’s attention.

Troy jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t be getting any ideas about trying to distract me with hot, sexy, naked time, either. We’re here to do a job, and I’m going to get it done, damn it.”

“Do we...get to play with the real toys later?” Oscar asked, raising a thick brow.

Troy grinned. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll show you my collection.”

He wasn’t going to argue with a chance to get Troy naked and panting later.

It had only been a day, but Oscar could feel them falling back into old routines, including the ease with which they groped and jumped one another.

It usually ended in a heavy bout of cuddling and spooning afterward, leaving them both happy and content in almost every way.

Oscar sighed. “Very well, put me to work then, oh slave master.”