Page 10 of Spread Your Wings
“My apologies,” he said, taking a step back. “You should eat.”
“I’m hungry for something else,” Sammy said.
Mustafa laughed. “Dessert, maybe?” Despite the joke, Mustafa forgot to smile. His expression was somewhere between pleading and hopeful, his brown eyes dark.
Sammy resumed his meal, chewing furiously on two pieces of steak at a time. He chased them with water until his plate was empty. He handed the plate of fries to Mustafa.
Mustafa perched on the bed with his boots hanging over the side. Sammy climbed on top of the comforter to sit next to him. Mustafa fed him a fry, and he returned the favor. They were cold, but crunchy.
“No ketchup?” Mustafa asked.
“No time.” Sammy frowned at the fried potatoes still on the plate. “I want something warm.”
“I would heat them up in the microwave downstairs, but Karadzic’s men are in the kitchens.”
Sammy shook his head. “I don’t mean these.” He grabbed the plate and leaned across Mustafa to set it on the nightstand. Then he straddled Mustafa’s legs.
Mustafa grunted in surprise.
“Time for dessert,” Sammy said, cupping Mustafa’s face again and leaning in for a kiss.
Mustafa opened his mouth for Sammy’s tongue.
Sammy rocked in time with his heart, fucking Mustafa’s mouth with his tongue.
Mustafa kicked off his boots and sank lower on the bed, taking Sammy with him.
Sammy’s body followed the rhythm of his tongue.
He ground against Mustafa through their clothes. Mustafa broke the kiss, panting.
“Too many clothes.”
“I don’t have condoms,” Sammy mumbled.
“We won’t need condoms,” Mustafa promised, gesturing with his hand.
Sammy wanted that hand on him. He stripped out of his T-shirt and jeans, leaving him in boxers and socks. Mustafa kept his socks on, too, and his sexy gray briefs with Calvin Klein around the waistband.
“Cute, McFly.”
“Be quiet. They are sexy.”
Sammy couldn’t argue with that. He stripped back the comforter and top sheet and scooted to the middle of the bed. He held the blankets up, hoping Mustafa would take the hint and join him.
Mustafa took his hand, instead, and laced their fingers together as he climbed into bed. In a heartbeat, their previous position was reversed. Sammy was flat on his back with Mustafa draped over him. The cool sheets quickly adjusted to their body heat.
Mustafa looked down at him, a wordless question etched in the lines of his face.
Sammy nodded, and Mustafa’s smile returned.
He leaned down and kissed Sammy with the same force and appetite as the first time.
Mustafa knew how to use his mouth, too. He let up just before the pressure became too much.
He feathered light pecks on Sammy’s jaw and the sensitive skin on his neck.
When he returned to Sammy’s panting mouth, he was gentle and exploratory.
Sammy loved every minute of those getting-to-know-you kisses.
Sammy’s body responded to every touch. He slid against Mustafa, seeking the friction he craved. Mustafa let go of his hand to roll onto his side. He brought Sammy with him, so they were still face-to-face, chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin.
Sammy groaned when Mustafa grazed his dick with the waistband of his boxers as he yanked them to his knees.
He must have done the same with his own briefs.
The next sensation on Sammy’s cock was the slide of satiny skin against his own.
Mustafa stroked them together with a calloused hand.
The rough and smooth textures tantalized him.
Mustafa’s grunts and Bosnian phrases made Sammy’s fantasy a reality.
He came, moaning Mustafa’s name into his ear, his cheek raw from the scratch of stubble.
They bucked against each other, both spurting hot cum against Sammy’s chest.
It took several minutes for his breathing to return to normal.
Mustafa flopped onto his back, tugging Sammy against his side.
Sammy rested his head on Mustafa’s shoulder and tried to fight the drowsiness that always hit him after sex.
The stickiness finally got him out of bed.
He was just turning off the hot water tap after rinsing the washcloth when Mustafa joined him in the bathroom.
He’d stripped out of his briefs. Sammy took a moment to appreciate his toned abs and powerful thighs.
Mustafa’s gorgeous body was usually hidden beneath his uniform.
Sammy wanted more of that sexiness. He also wanted more time with Mustafa, to see if he fucked with the same attentiveness as he kissed.
Sammy wished he could take those kisses, this man, home with him.
Mustafa was everything Gavin had lacked, and Sammy wanted to keep him in his life.
He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Mustafa bopped him on the nose with the washcloth. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m thinking I want more than a couple of weeks of this. You said we shouldn’t start something we couldn’t finish.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Mustafa gathered Sammy in his arms, his head tucking nicely into the crook of Mustafa’s neck. “Better to regret something you have done.”
“Did you just quote the Butthole Surfers to me?”
Mustafa shrugged. “Vasily likes them. The beginning of ‘Sweet Loaf’ is not bad. The rest of it is terrible.”
Sammy laughed and hugged him tighter. He liked the press of his skin against Mustafa’s solid flesh. Gavin hadn’t been a hugger. Sammy had craved this type of intimacy.
Another knock at the door had them scrambling apart. Mustafa’s eyes were wide with fear.
Sammy recognized the knock. “Be right there, Christiane.”
“They’ve arrested the snipers.” Her voice was only slightly muffled by the door. “It’s safe to come out of your room now.”
“Thanks.”
“That means we have a story,” she said in her schoolteacher tone.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Good. I’ll wake the others.”
Mustafa’s cheeks flushed as he gazed at the floor. “I should go.”
Sammy wanted to encourage him to stay, but the words stuck in his throat. It was already going to be hard to let him go. He bowed his head in defeat.
Mustafa stepped back into his personal space. He placed a finger beneath Sammy’s chin and lifted him into another scorching kiss. It took Sammy’s breath away. By the time he recovered, Mustafa was dressed and on his way out the door. Sammy was still standing naked in the bathroom.