“It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, sweetheart.” Shit, he probably shouldn’t have called him sweetheart. He brushes his thumb over Graham’s knuckle. Gently, back and forth, again and again. It becomes predictable, a tiny metronome across that small bit of skin.
Graham doesn’t pull away, so Colton doesn’t stop. Again and again he brushes one finger over the man’s knuckle. He just has to be patient.
For a submissive this resistant to a Dominant, this small touch is a victory.The first brick of trust.My behavior is predictable and gentle. I won’t hurt you, he tries to say with just that small touch.
Graham’s breathing evens out. Is he watching Colton’s finger move over his skin? Graham’s other hand lands hard on Colton’s other shoulder.
Graham sways, stumbles, and rights himself. “Dammit,” he rasps.
One small touch dragging the angry submissive down.
Graham Knox is a disaster.
“If you want to sit down, there’s lots of room,” Colton offers.
3
Graham’s hand slides off him and he hears the submissive sigh quietly. Does it feel like a weight has been lifted off him? Does it feel like Graham can finally breathe? No one can hold themselves that tightly, carry the load of their designation and not have it crush them.
There’s a reason the military’s number one priority is pairing up their designated soldiers. Modern-day elite fighting pairs that can take on the world like Achilles and Patroclus or something.
Colton clasps his hands in his lap so Graham knows he won’t touch him. Graham steps around the edge of the bench and collapses down next to him, only a few inches between them.
Closer than Colton expected.
Maybe because he knows he could destroy Colton with one punch if he wanted to. Colton is no slouch. He’s six feet tall. He’s been through the designation program. He works out and trains. His military training is brutal. But he’s nothing like the man beside him.
Physically, they’re very different. Though he’s pretty sure they’re close to the same height.
“I hate the way most Dominants smell,” Graham says.
“I was out on an exercise before this. I didn’t have time to get more presentable. Sorry about that.” Colton tries to say it casually but the comment is more devastating than it should be. Pheromones and scent are critical when it comes to attraction between enhanced men.
“No, I…” He runs out of words. “Not you,” Graham finally says.
Colton looks at the clock curiously. It’s been ten minutes. He hasn’t any idea if that seems right.
Graham chuckles unhappily. “Go ahead. I didn’t say you needed to sit here for fifteen minutes.”
“I’m not leaving. I don’t want to leave. It was just somewhere to look. Curious, I guess. It’s been ten minutes. Does that seem right to you?”
Graham doesn’t answer. Instead, he shivers, wraps an arm around his own stomach, shoulders hunching in. Graham’s dropping hard and it hurts.
Colton tilts his head to the side in invitation. If the submissive wants to press up against him and breathe him in, Colton will allow it.
Graham’s thigh presses against his. That small touch is electric. It feels like surrender, as if he’s been given a gift. But Graham doesn’t move closer.
Colton’s instincts are telling him that Graham can’t bring himself to move closer. He’s almost positive the submissive wants to. He needs Graham to make the decision.
“I’m going to unzip my jacket. It’s very warm in here. Is that alright? Just don’t want to startle you. Sudden movements and all.”
“I’m a super soldier, not a cat.”
“Good point,” Colton says, flashing a smile.
Graham’s brows are drawn together tight, his head dropped, his fingers white as they press hard into his own stomach. As if he’s trying to keep his insides where they belong.
Colton unzips his jacket and Graham swears low under his breath.
