Page 5 of Green Ravens

Since all Oakley had was his free shot, he left a five-dollar tip and got up. “Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He and Sawyer left the bar together and began to walk the couple of miles back to the base.

The first mile they were quiet, and the silence was as comfortable and refreshing as the cool breeze coming off the ocean.

Sawyer had a long, swaggering gait and he walked with purpose, as if he were on his way to do something important, instead of falling into his bunk.

“What’s up, Sawyer? Why are you walking back to base with me, huh? You don’t like brunettes?”

“I don’t likepushybrunettes.”

“You ever heard the phrase ‘work smart, not hard?’”

“Yep, but that shit doesn’t apply to my dates.”

Dates, not women. Hmm.

Sawyer’s voice blended into the night. It was deep, with a tone as soothing as the rustling of the leaves.

The long, dark road was flanked on both sides by dense shrubs that morphed into a forest of various towering trees. The moonlight provided enough illumination to keep them on the narrow sidewalk and out of the way of passing vehicles.

They still had a quarter mile to go, but Oakley could no longer ignore the call of nature. He stepped off the concrete and pushed his way through the bushes.

“You know about a shortcut that I don’t?”

“I gotta piss.”

Oakley went far enough in that anyone driving by, especially an MP, wouldn’t see him.

He was midstream when he heard Sawyer come up beside him. The sound of his belt rattling and then his zipper being pulled down almost fucked up his flow.

Oakley fought not to glance over to get a glimpse of Sawyer’s junk because the vibes wafting off the other chief were saturating him.

Among Oakley’s numerous talents, picking up on another person’s cues was one of his best.

A warm rush of energy ignited in the pit of his stomach at the sudden awareness of need. The arousing sensation complemented the three beers and the shot of whisky already down there.

Oakley took a few steps in reverse until his back connected with tree. He was ten whole feet away from Sawyer, and he could still smell his allure. The chief’s intoxicating scent of leatherand light tones of amber and musk from his cologne blended perfectly with the earthy sweetness of the autumn forest.

Oakley closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He rarely experienced this kind of thrill from desire.

He didn’t know how long he’d stood there basking in the aroma and the thrumming in his groin, but when he felt a heavy gaze on him, he opened his eyes, meeting Sawyer’s head-on.

The air thickened, charged with an unspoken agreement to stop acting coy and do this fuckin’ thing.

His heart beat faster with every slow, deliberate move Sawyer took toward him. His steps were bold and sure, his glare never wavering the closer he drew toward him.

The awareness of nature’s elements faded, leaving only want and hunger simmering between them.

The moment Sawyer’s chest touched his, the heat from their closeness wrapped around his body in a constrictive embrace, awakening feelings that’d been dormant for a while.

Sawyer didn’t waste time going for the button on Oakley’s jeans and then his zipper until his cock was out in the open, the cool air doing nothing to lessen its stiffness.

Fuck, he was so turned on by Sawyer’s confidence.

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