You’re an assignment, not an assignation. Soon as I get your pretty boy ass through the Wilderness and deliver you to the Outpost, you’re no more than a stain to spit-shine off my boots.
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So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.
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For the first time I had the best of both worlds--a mission to live for and a man to love.
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Shock? More like shellshock at this point. Blondie knew I was gay, yet he was a Company Exec or else he wouldn’t be here. I was his butt boy in the worst possible way.
When I squinted at him, he gave nothing up. Neither did I. I had shit on this newly minted man too.
Double fucking jeopardy, jackass.
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I’m wondering how long I have to deal with this bullshit before I can brief my troops. Oh, and I gotta feed my goldfish. Let’s get this straight, Blondie—”
“Blondie?”
“That’s an insult, not a pet name.
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I put my hand next to his shoulder on the door frame, not touching, but real close. “Look, Blondie. I’m not asking you to bottom, just to fucking navigate.
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It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m with . . . God, Caspar. I’ve dreamed about being with you.
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My latest battle had nothing to do with The Company, the rebels, or any other faction. It was out-and-out warfare between my head and my heart. Keeping it cool during daylight, versus nighttime, when I unleashed my passion for him. ... Turned out the Wilderness was a lot more hostile than me.
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