03-Strength of the Mate (36 page)

Adam whimpered, Dawson’s words sparking that familiar ache in his chest. He was afraid of what Dawson could see. Adam closed his eyes, thrusting his hips forward into Dawson’s hand. Tingling heat slowly crept up his spine.

“Open your eyes,” Dawson ordered fiercely. “Let me see your beautiful, dark eyes.” Adam instantly obeyed, hoping he could hide the way that only Dawson made that something in his chest tighten. “Stop fighting it, just let go. Come for me, come in my hand. Let it all go.”

Adam complied, even as Dawson kept talking. He worked his hips in time with Dawson’s demanding hand. He relinquished all control and fucked in and out of Dawson’s palm, waiting for his orgasm to have its way with him.

“You don’t just like it when I talk, do you?” Dawson smiled knowingly. “You like it when I talk dirty. Wanna hear me tell you I love having your cock in my hand? I’m gonna make you come so I can smell you. I’m gonna catch your spunk in my hand. You’re gonna look so hot, licking your own jizz off my hand.”

Dawson’s filthy talk painted a picture that short circuited Adam’s brain. He arched his back, letting out a low wail. His cock swelled as Dawson jacked him roughly. Adam was close. He was so fucking close.

Lowering his head, Dawson pressed his face to the side of Adam’s neck. “That’s it. Let go, Adam,” he whispered softly against Adam’s sensitized skin. “Give it all to me. I’ve got you, Adam. Let go.”

Adam shouted as his balls tightened. They pulsed as he spilled the first few jets of come. He shivered violently, pushing his hips forward, desperate for more friction from Dawson’s hand.

Dawson’s hot, wet mouth covered the pulse in Adam’s throat. The sting of Dawson’s fangs unleashed an electrical storm in Adam’s body. Dawson drew hard on his skin, bringing Adam’s blood to the surface. A shower of sparks cascaded inside Adam’s skull, and he felt himself float away.

Adam’s body was suffused with warmth. He was more relaxed than he’d ever been, so he just let himself drift. He was cradled against something safe and strong, and Adam tried to get closer.

Suddenly, he was falling. Adam reached out to catch himself. His arms and hands found firm muscle beneath warm, smooth skin.

“I gotcha. You’re okay. Just lay back and relax.”

Adam opened his eyes at the sound of Dawson’s soothing voice. He was in their bed. Dawson settled him beneath the covers, pressing tight to his back. Adam let himself be wrapped up in Dawson’s arms as he drifted back to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Adam checked the pockets of his duffel bag, making sure he’d remembered to pack his laptop and sat-phone. He hitched his duffel higher onto his shoulder as he unlocked the door to Dawson’s hooch. Stepping inside, he froze, his heart leaping into his throat. Dawson stood rummaging in his small cabinet. He turned and smiled at Adam warmly.

“S-s-s-sorry. I just took a shower,” Adam explained hastily. “I came by to make sure I didn’t forget and leave anything here.” He’d expected Dawson to be out all day, making sure everything was ready for the full moon run that night, since it was the first one he was leading at Camp Fallujah.

“It wouldn’t matter if you did,” said Dawson. His eyes shone, like he was happy to see Adam. “You’re here enough, and I don’t mind having your things around. You could even move in here, if you wanted to.”

Adam stared, dumbfounded. He’d thought Dawson wanted to keep their space, and their lives, separate.

“I know there’s not much space—in any of the hooches—” Dawson continued. “But then, we both came to Iraq traveling light.”

“Which sucks, ’cause I hate doing laundry,” Adam heard himself say.

Dawson chuckled. Since he didn’t have duty today, Dawson wore only his brown T-shirt with his uniform pants. He’d been happy, that morning, to skip his hot uniform blouse, in favor of the cool cotton. Adam had been amused by Dawson’s childlike pleasure, answering his smile with one of his own.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Adam tried to sound casual, but he felt like he’d been caught out. “I figured you’d be out all day. Didn’t you say there’s still a lot to do?” Good job, that didn’t sound the least bit defensive.

“I have a shitload of things to do,” he answered ruefully. “Mercer and Rodriguez are the only reasons I’ve managed to keep my head above water this long. I just came by to drop something off.” He closed the cabinet. “Close the door and set your bag down. You look like you’re ready to bolt.”

He was, but he didn’t want Dawson to know that. Adam shut the door and set his duffel on the floor beside the desk.

Dawson crossed the room and handed him a brown colored canvas bag. “We’re low on supplies so I picked this up from Doc Marchesi. You can get them, too. They have them at the hospital, and all the corpsmen keep them on hand, too.”

Adam turned the bag over in his hands. The front was marked with the universal symbols for male, female, and werewolf. “What is it?” He asked, pulling open the Velcro closure and lifting the front flap. Glancing inside, he saw it was filled with condom packets and bottles of sexual lubricant. “Oh my God! I am not asking anyone for this.” Adam folded the parcel closed and shoved it back into Dawson’s chest. “The Marine Corps just gives those out?”

Dawson laughed. His eyes sparkled, the lines at the corners crinkling. The rich, joyful sound made Adam’s stomach do that weird fluttery thing he hated. Dawson went to put the package in the small bedside table. “According to your brother, Lucas had that exact same reaction when he found out about them.”

“Huh. I bet Tim yanked his chain about it, too,” Adam said, with less anger and more amusement than he usually did.

“Nah.” Dawson gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The major’s definitely got a quick wit and sharp tongue, but he never pokes at people’s tender spots. From what I gather, he was Lucas and Noah’s lifeline, as they struggled to figure out how things were going to work for them.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, are we talking about the same Tim Madison?”

Dawson smiled. “He’s probably a little harder on you because you’re brothers. He knows about more of your sore spots than anyone else.”

Adam certainly couldn’t argue with that. “I guess it’s good to know I don’t have a brother who enjoys other people’s discomfort. But I can’t go asking anyone for one of those…whatever those packages are.” He gestured toward the small table. “I can just picture the looks everyone would give me.”

“Hey,” Dawson said softly, drawing Adam into his arms. “They’re called Mating Supply Kits, but I won’t tell you what nickname the Marines have given it. They’re easy to get because they’re critical to the good health of werewolves, which is critical to force readiness. It’s no different than drawing ammunition for a mission.”

“Except no one smirks at you when you draw ammunition,” Adam replied, lifting one eyebrow.

Dawson looked surprised. “No one will smirk when you ask for a kit, either. Have you ever heard the myth of—”

Adam held up one hand, palm out, bringing Dawson’s speech to an immediate halt. “Remember what I said about hiding behind stories when you have something to tell me?”

Dawson shut his mouth audibly. He sighed heavily, looking like he wanted to argue. “My health and welfare is now crucial to the weres of Camp Fallujah, and you are now crucial to my health and welfare. You hold an important place in our
sippe
, which everyone respects. There’s no shame in that. Only something to be proud of.”

Adam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he scanned Dawson’s expression. “I’m imposing my human hang ups on something werewolves don’t give a second thought to, aren’t I?”

Dawson shrugged. “You’re adjusting pretty well, anyway.” He tightened his arms around Adam’s back, lowering his head for a slow, languorous kiss.

Adam slid his arms around Dawson’s shoulders, letting him take the kiss deeper. Dawson slowly rubbed his hips against Adam’s, until they both started to get hard. Adam rubbed himself against Dawson, just a little harder. He wondered if he could convince Dawson to sample something from the new supply kit.

Suddenly, Dawson pulled back with a low sound of frustration. “I wish I had the time to slip inside you,” he said with a last, hard kiss. “But you’ll have my undivided attention tomorrow morning, and I promise it’ll blow your mind.”

Adam adjusted himself in his jeans, blowing out a tense breath. “How many of those kits did you get?”

Dawson laughed, also giving himself a slight adjustment. “Several. Don’t worry. I gotta get back out there and check on the preparations for tonight. What do you have to do today?”

Shrugging, Adam said, “Nothing. Because all the werewolves are excused from duty, all human Marines are filling critical security roles. Not enough troops for convoy security, so I pretty much have the next two days off, too.”

“Good. Come with me to check on the arrangements.” Dawson grabbed his hat and sunglasses from the desk.

Adam had planned to call Tim for some last minute info on what he should expect in the next two days, but that would wait. If he called later tonight, he’d catch Tim in his office in his morning. He wanted to go with Dawson. Adam wanted Dawson’s company, even if they had to keep it professional in public. He’d realized some time ago that he enjoyed being with Dawson.

“Yeah. Sure,” he agreed, retrieving his sunglasses from the pocket of his duffel.

They stepped out into the bright, hot sunshine and Dawson locked the door. “Mercer and Rodriguez are getting the new sleeping quarters ready. I wanna make sure they haven’t run into any snags.” He guided Adam forward with a hand at the small of his back. “You’re gonna spend the night in my hooch, right? Sleep in our bed?”

Adam hadn’t slept in his own hooch since Dawson had gotten the double-sized cot. He figured that was why Dawson called it their bed, but hearing it still made Adam’s blood warm. “Yeah. That was my plan,” he replied.

“Good. That’ll help the rest of the werewolves to get settled down quickly, if I don’t have to play hide and seek with you.” Dawson glanced around them before giving Adam’s ass a quick, but firm squeeze.

Adam smiled at the playful show of affection. He didn’t understand why he and Dawson were necessary for keeping the werewolves quiet tomorrow, but he’d ask Tim about that later.

Dawson led him to a large, rectangular building set in a compound behind the PX and the communications building. It wasn’t far from the main gate of Camp Fallujah. Adam decided that made sense, since they were going to come and go from the run through that gate. There was nothing else around the building, except for cultivated desert shrubbery.

Adam stepped inside the building, as Dawson held the door open. Removing his sunglasses and hooking them on the neck of his shirt, Adam blinked several times to adjust his vision.

“Hey, Madison. Whassup?” Jason called from across a giant open space.

“Madison,” Paul greeted. “Hey, Gunny. We’re just about done here.”

“Good job, gentlemen,” Dawson replied. He walked slowly down an aisle between rows of what looked like bedrolls.

The building was cavernous, with a concrete floor. The narrow, high set windows were all open, creating a decent cross-breeze and sucking out the warmer air. Adam looked closely at the piles of blankets on the floor. There really were dozens of thin mattresses laid out side-by-side. They were separated by a few narrow spaces that acted as access aisles, but it really did look like one big bedroll. The pillows were piled in groups and the blankets overlapped mattresses.

Adam wondered if this meant the werewolves were all going to sleep together in the morning. He searched his brain for anything Tim might have once said about this. He was sure he misunderstood. Adam glanced up to find Dawson in quiet conference with Paul and Jason.

Seeing the three shifters together reminded him how differently they all viewed their bodies, and their physicality. Adam needed to step away from his limited human perceptions and just roll with whatever this was all about.

Like he felt Adam watching him, Dawson looked up, meeting his gaze unerringly. One corner of his mouth quirked upward in a private smile, his eyes warming. Adam returned the smile, a small thrill zinging up his spine at the easy comfort of their secret exchange.

“We just have to lay out the bang bags, and we’re good to go here,” Paul said. He retrieved two large boxes from the floor at the end of a row of bedrolls, handing one off to Jason.

Jason carried the box to the bedroll closest to where Adam stood. He withdrew something and tossed it down on top of the blankets. Curious, Adam looked to see what it was. His jaw dropped when he recognized a brown canvas bag decorated with three familiar symbols. It was identical to the Mating Supply Kit Dawson had shown him earlier.

The werewolves weren’t just going to snuggle up and sleep in a pile, they were having a fucking orgy! Adam’s brain threw itself into reverse and latched on to what Paul had called the kits.

“Bang bags?” he cried, incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me?” So much for a different way of viewing what it was they were all doing!

“I told you, you didn’t want to know the nickname for the kits,” Dawson said ruefully.

“You don’t expect the poor guys to go raw, do you?” Jason asked. His tone was innocent, but his expression was wicked.

“Of course not,” Adam answered defensively. “But you guys are so full of shit, claiming you view sex different from humans. You’re gonna have a fucking werewolf orgy tomorrow, and keep telling the rest of us it’s just a bonding ritual.” Adam didn’t have a problem with the idea. He was just coming to grips with what he’d just learned about his friends.

Dawson laughed. “I guess it does kinda look that way.”

“No orgy for me,” Paul said, tossing a kit onto some blankets. “I’m first up to referee fights in the gym. Once Dawson is asleep and the pack settles down, I’ll come in and join a puppy pile. But I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m snuggled up.”

“I’ll be in one of the puppy piles, sleeping,” Jason declared. “There’s no one aboard this base that gets my blood up the rest of the month, so there’s no chance in hell someone’s gonna magically seem attractive, the morning after the run.”