He focuses on the moment. That the submissive is unwell and needs help.
This is the submissive Colton responds to. This is the one he wants. The biggest, broadest, most beautiful man Colton has ever seen.
And it’s pretty clear he hates everyone, Colton included.
2
The submissive, Graham Knox, swipes a forearm over his sweaty brow. Colton can see his hand trembling, and that snaps Colton into action. The submissive is dropping hard, practically crashing before Colton’s eyes, and it makes him nauseous. It’s painful to see and the submissive must feel even worse.
“If they all leave, can I stay?” Colton asks quietly.
“That’s a horrible idea,” someone murmurs. One of the soldiers in the back. All human then, unaware of how good an enhanced soldier’s hearing is.
“What do you do in the army?” the submissive demands. He looks past Colton as if he’s only seeing him around the edges. It’s the first vaguely submissive thing he’s seen the man do: not make eye contact with a Dominant.
“I’m a good shot.”
“What special abilities do you have?”
Colton shrugs. “Not much beyond a good eye and a can-do attitude.” Which may sound stupid but it’s what his sergeant says about him all the time.
The submissive scoffs. “Ridiculous,” he says, unimpressed enough that he meets Colton’s gaze head-on. The moment their eyes lock, the submissive’s head jerks to the side, flinching away from the contact as if he’s been punched. It bares the strong column of his throat.
Colton knows plenty of submissives that would make the same gesture and it would be an invitation to have sex. This submissive is more likely to rip Colton’s dick off with his pinky rather than submit.
The submissive shudders, corrects his posture, but there’s still a hint of not-invitation in his behavior. What is it? Is it the head tilt? The blush on his cheeks? The way he will not meet Colton’s gaze again? His quick, almost panting breaths? All of it, probably.
Beautiful.
Colton could watch the submissive fight himself and his instincts for the rest of his life, he thinks. Which is an absurd thought.The rest of his life?If the submissive has his way, Colton will be gone in under a minute.
Another shudder racks the submissive’s big body.It looks like a painful effort to hold himself upright and in that wide, powerful pose.
It’s an act.
Colton walks forward. Which isn’t something he consciously decided to do, but it’s happening.Fantastic.His dominant instincts have decided to take over and now he’s probably going to get knocked into next week. Colton stops three feet away from him.
Graham’s pulse is pounding at his throat. Fear. Strain.
“Get the hell out,” Colton says to the others, once again surprising himself.
The submissive’s shoulders tense and lower at the words.
He doesn’t look away from the submissive in front of him but can hear footsteps as people obey, leaving the two of them alone. The same soldier as before mutters something about a funeral on his way out.
Colton cannot and should not take his eyes off the man before him. He’s strong, dangerous, and unstable.
“My name is Colton Berringer. I’m a Private, First Class?—”
The submissive’s right hand clenches into a fist. “I don’t care,” he says. “I don’t want you here.”
“Alright. What’s your plan?” Colton asks. He’s close enough that if they both reached out, their fingers would touch.
There’s a long pause and he sees the muscle tick at the corner of Graham’s jaw. He doesn’t want to answer.Tell me, Colton thinks, and imagines putting a hand on the submissive.
Graham flinches, as if he can feel the imaginary touch. “They’ll sedate me. Be fine in a week.” His voice is low and rough. His skin is perfectly clear, as if he’s never had a blemish in his entire life.
A week! “You’ll hurt if you do it that way.”
