Stealing My Heart Read online

  Trace’s eyes widened. “Where?”

  “I know a place.” He reached for his hand.

  Trace linked his fingers with him. Heaven. It was heaven just to hold his hand.

  Drew led Trace back down into the kitchen, now closed for the night. In times to come, it also served as a source of privacy, but for him, the nights on the stairs were what he kept close. He remembered walking through the dark as if he were a cat, never bumping into anything. “You’ve done this before,” Trace said rather than asked.

  “It’s a great place,” Drew said, his voice low and sultry.

  It sent a shiver up Trace’s spine.

  Suddenly they were in the kitchen. In front of them was a long, stainless steel table. Drew released his hand and opened the refrigerator. “What…?” Trace began.

  “Take your clothes off,” he said. “I’m going to drive you wild.”

  “Drew, I…” Trace glanced around, “I don’t know about this. What if…?”

  “We won’t be disturbed here, don’t worry.” He turned around, a tray of artificial ice cubes in his hand. “Come on, baby, get ‘em off. I want to see paradise.” He paused for a second. “I’m not wrong; you do want me, don’t you?”

  “Oh…ah, yes,” Trace nodded. There was no question of that. “It’s just that this is the kitchen and…”

  “Sweetie, I’m a bad boy, and that’s just what you like about me.” He grinned. “Turns you on, doesn’t it?” He lifted an eyebrow, and set down the tray. “The thought that we might get caught,” he began to unzip his fatigues, “makes me hard as hell.”

  Trace gazed at the bulge in his pants, watching intently as that zipper slid down, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Baby. Suddenly, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were in the sergeant’s office, he wanted to touch him. He wanted to taste every inch of his hard cock, and there were abundant inches to taste.

  When Drew noticed that Trace hadn’t made a move to remove his clothes, he laughed. “Hey, I’m standing here butt naked and you haven’t even…”

  Trace reached out and grabbed him. He could no longer resist. He pulled Drew into his arms and kissed him the way he’d been dreaming of since the first moment he’d set eyes on him. Slow, deep, and passionate, the kiss went on and on until finally, they broke apart, Drew making some crack about needing to come up for air.

  Trace could still see him, his chest heaving, dark eyes filled with need. Drew helped him take off his clothes and pressed him down on that stainless steel table. He’d looked up into those eyes as Drew moved up over his body. He showed him one of the artificial ice cubes. “They don’t drip like the real ones,” he said, “but they can chill or stiffen just the same.” He smiled, licked his lips. It was the most erotic thing Trace had ever seen. Drew moved the cube over Trace’s lips slowly then to his chin, trailing it down his throat to his chest. When Drew touched it to Trace’s nipple, a shiver ran up his spine. His nipple stiffened, tingling as the frozen ice glazed it over and over again. Drew glanced down at his handiwork, laving Trace’s nipple with his tongue then moving the frozen cube over it again. “You have amazing nipples,” he said, trailing the cube across to the other nipple. Trace could feel Drew’s hard cock graze his inner thigh. He swallowed, grunting as Drew’s fingers tweaked his frozen nipple while stimulating the other.

  “Um, it’s so cold.”

  “Yeah, and you’re so hot,” Drew groaned, lowering his mouth to Trace’s. The frozen cube escaped Drew’s fingers, falling off the table onto the floor.

  Trace wrapped his legs around Drew’s narrow waist, smoothing his hands down over those incredible biceps of his, and thinking that just maybe, this was heaven.

  Even now he could feel Drew’s hard cock moving inside of him. No man since Drew had been able to reduce him to a quivering mass of need like that, touching places deep within his soul he didn’t know existed until Drew brought him to life. He would have done anything for Drew’s touch, had done anything for it. And now, after all this time, after tearing himself away, he’d look into those eyes again.

  Chapter Two

  There was a voice calling to him now, a fist banging on the door. Trace sat up in his chair, his cock hard. “Damn it. Damn you, Drew,” he said aloud, propelling himself out of the chair. I’m not going to let you do this to me again. He tore open the door, and barked, “What?”

  Tor looked taken aback for a moment.

  Trace softened his voice, as he ran a hand over his face. “Sorry. What is it?”

  “Lacour’s ship has found us, sir. He’s set up his equipment on the South side of the planet. He and his crew have been spotted. They’re wearing all atmosphere gear.”

  “Well, that’s one thing I can say for Drew, he was always prepared.”

  “Sir?”

  Trace shook his head. “Never mind. How many?”

  “We’ve seen three, including Lacour. We’ve surrounded the ship. We’re confiscating the drilling equipment.”

  Trace nodded, his gut fighting with some invisible enemy.

  “We have Drew Lacour on the teleprompter. He’s demanding to talk to someone in charge.” Tor winced. “He’s pissed.”

  Trace actually smiled. “Is he now? Tell the men to hold their positions, to await orders from me. I’ll deal with Mr. Lacour in here, privately.”

  “Yes, sir, frequency six,” Tor said.

  Trace nodded, and closed the door. He walked over to his desk and sat. He hesitated a second then switched on his screen. “Captain Lacour,” he said, swallowing hard.

  Drew was standing in front of his command station, long dark hair hanging down, shading part of his face. He was holding his all atmosphere head gear. His eyes widened as he looked into the screen. “Trace?”

  “Yes. It’s me. How are you, Captain Lacour?”

  “Captain Lacour, is it? Okay. What in hell are you doing on this God forsaken planet?”

  “I’m heading up the security force.”

  “Then, you’re the one! What in hell’s the meaning of confiscating my God damned equipment?”

  “You have no authorisation to get water here, Captain.” God, the years had been more than generous. Trace would have never thought it possible but Drew was even more gorgeous than back at military school. His mind flew back to Drew catching raindrops in his mouth. Looking at Drew was like seeing a mirage of a pool of cool water. Impossibly blue. Impossibly beautiful. He could hardly breathe looking at him.

  “We weren’t sure if this planet was even inhabited,” he growled. “Shit, the average temperature is enough to fry someone alive. Is there really a civilisation under the surface?”

  “Yes. And the frozen water is linked to its survival. We’ve developed a technique to keep the lake isolated from the surrounding environmental heat, only ultilising that heat to melt the water for common usage, as needed.”

  “Fascinating, but you know the rules.”

  “Rules?” Trace laughed harshly. “You’re citing rules now? That’s a laugh. Last time I heard, you no longer even work for the Confederation. You’re a rogue, Drew, a pirate, selling a precious dwindling resource to the highest bidder. I’m afraid that you and your crew are now our prisoners.”

  “Prisoners? Fuck you, Trace. I came here for water, and I intend to leave with some. Unless you have a paper signed by the Confederation stating that the lake is someone’s personal property, it’s open season.”

  Trace’s heart began to beat heavy in his chest. He’d forgotten how determined Drew could be. “Come on, be reasonable. You are three, four at the most? I’ve got a security force of over five hundred soldiers, not to mention a back up military force of three thousand. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “Well, I always said I’d go out fighting, or fucking.” He grinned. “You remember the last part, don’t you baby?”

  Trace flushed. “You’re pissing me off now, Lacour.” Help me find more rain, he’d said. Did Drew even remember that?

  He threw back his hea
d and laughed. “Bring it on. Give me your best shot.” His face faded in front of Trace’s eyes.

  Trace slammed his fist on the desk. He sprang up out of his seat and tore out of his office. The people at the command centre looked up expectedly as he stormed in. “Destroy his equipment,” he bellowed, “blow it up. Now! Then send twenty men onto that ship. Take them into custody, and bring Lacour to me, alive.”

  “What in hell are we doing, Drew?” Will demanded. “Are you nuts? You’re going to get us killed.”

  Drew didn’t answer. His attention was captured by the commando of soldiers heading to his drilling machine. “No,” he shouted, heading for the exit to the ship, “don’t you dare touch my…”

  Pagnotella pulled him back. “You can’t go out there like that,” she fought to hold onto him. “Will, help me.”

  Will jumped in front of the door. “Drew!”

  Drew lifted the head gear and struggled to put it back on.

  Pagnotella screamed. “There’s too many of them! We’ll…”

  Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the ship. Drew tore off the head gear again and raced over to the monitor. He slammed his fist down on the control panel, smashing the glass. “No, no, no. Those bloody…”

  Will sighed. “We’re screwed.”

  Suddenly, a loud blast blew in the ship’s side entrance. Drew picked up his weapon. Will pressed Drew’s arm down to his side as at least five heavily armed soldiers filed in, screaming, “Lower your weapons, and get on the floor, hands behind your heads.”

  Pagnotella and Will obeyed. Drew clutched the weapon in his hand, standing there defiantly, calculating how many he could possibly get before they got him. Pagnotella reached up and tugged on Drew’s sleeve.

  “Do it,” she hissed at him. “We can’t win this.”

  “I’d sure as hell like to try.”

  One of the soldiers walked over to him, his gun pointed directly to Will’s head. “Do it or he gets it,” he said. “We have orders to take you alive, but the other two…” He smirked.

  Drew dropped the weapon and got to his knees.

  “Nice,” the soldier said softly, “very nice, Captain. Take the other two out,” he yelled, holding his gun steadily on Drew. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  When the ship was empty, Drew looked up at him. He was young, attractive enough, a little cocky.

  “So, you’re Drew Lacour,” he drawled.

  “Seems my reputation precedes me. And you are?” Drew lifted an eyebrow.

  “Tor Yarbo. You can call me Sergeant Yarbo.”

  “I’d like to say that I’m pleased to meet you but under the circumstances—is there a reason why you’re standing there staring at me?”

  “It seems you have a history with my commander. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

  “You really don’t like me. Um. I assume you do like Trace.”

  “He’s a good man. If we had time, I’d make you take off your clothes.”

  Drew narrowed his eyes. “Ah, well, I really don’t know what to say to that, Sergeant.”

  “I like to know my competition. With that suit on, you don’t look like much.”

  “Thanks.”

  “My gun could go off by accident.”

  Drew met his gaze. “Yes. It could. But I don’t think Trace would be very happy about that.”

  “Whatever you had with him back in school is finished. Is that clear?”

  “If you say so.”

  “If I had my way, you’d be dead. Get up.” He backed away, the gun steady on him. “Move it. The commander wants to see you.”

  “Where is my crew?” Drew got to his feet.

  “You have no right to ask anything. Just move.” Yarbo poked him with the butt of the gun. He picked up his head gear and threw it at him. “Put it on.”

  Drew fitted it down over his head. “Why don’t you need one?”

  “We are immune.”

  Drew didn’t understand how that was possible but he decided to save his questions for Trace. Yarbo pushed him outside and Drew walked on the spongy sand-like ground, his gaze on the frozen lake nearby, and on what was left of his equipment. His blood boiled. He’d never raise enough funds to buy another drilling rig.

  “Stop,” Yarbo said. “Step onto the platform.”

  “What platform?” Drew asked, looking around.

  Yarbo pulled him a few feet to the left. He lifted his communication device. “Interrogation room,” he said.

  Suddenly, they began to descend into the ground, concrete all around them. A steel door slid open and they were in a room, surrounded by glass. Yarbo gave him the most sinister smile. “Now,” he said, “take them off.”

  Drew stumbled forward as Yarbo gave him a shove. Another glass encasement moved around him. He was trapped. He pulled off the head gear which suddenly felt stifling and blinked. A strong, glaring light glowed down on him. A mechanical arm appeared and snatched up the head gear, pulling it up and out of the encasement.

  “Now the suit,” Yarbo insisted, his arms akimbo.

  Drew unzipped the atmosphere protection jumpsuit and watched with fascination as the mechanical arm dipped down again and removed it from the cell. He looked out at Yarbo, an eyebrow lifted. “I want to see Trace.”

  “It’s Commander Delano to you.”

  “Fine, whatever, get him.”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Dream on,” Drew glared at him. “If you want me to stand here bare assed naked, you’re going to come in here and take them off yourself, or die trying.”

  “And it might well be worth dying for,” a voice suddenly said.

  Drew moved his head sharply to the left to see Trace standing on the other side of the cell.

  “Leave us, Sergeant,” Trace said, never removing his eyes from Drew.

  “Yes, Sir,” he said, disappearing.

  “Quite the little set up you got here, Trace. I really dig that mechanical arm. Does it do anything else?”

  Trace laughed a little. “Actually, yes, but that’s for later.”

  “Where is my crew?”

  “Safe, in custody. You’re lucky you didn’t get them killed.”

  “They know the risks.”

  “I apologise for Tor. He’s a little gung ho.”

  “He’s in love with you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “He was desperate to see me naked, size me up, so to speak.”

  Trace found it easier to be angry than to be…sweet. He liked seeing the flicker of doubt, the glimmer of fear in Drew’s eyes. It still wasn’t enough to make up for the lost years. The irregular heart beat. He took a breath. “I’m afraid to tell you that he was just following procedure. I’m afraid you will have to…ah…take your clothes off.”

  “All of them?”

  Trace nodded.

  Drew began to undo his shirt, the confidence back now. “You don’t get many visitors I guess.”

  “We have to make sure you don’t have any concealed weapons.”

  “Deep cavity search as well?” Drew smirked. “Do you handle that personally, Trace?”

  Trace looked above, Drew following his gaze. “Oh shit,” he mouthed.

  “I’m told it’s relatively painless.”

  “Relatively?”

  “The pants?”

  “Patience lover,” he grinned. “I’m getting around to it. You know I’m a man who doesn’t like to rush these things.”

  “I have no time for this,” Trace snapped.

  Drew glanced at him. “You used to. You’ve changed.”

  “So have you. You used to have some respect.” You could make love for hours and still beg me to fuck you again.

  “Yeah, only thing was, I had to choose sides, and sometimes they weren’t the right sides.” Drew unzipped his pants. “You blew up my equipment, Trace. Do you know what that stuff was worth?”

  “You should have known that one day it was going to happen. I’ve heard about
some of your ah…adventures.”

  Drew stepped out of the pants and tossed them aside. He looked up.

  “It’s waiting for the underwear.”

  “Right. And you? Are you waiting, too?” Trace was growing impatient. He felt Drew watching him. He knew, thanks to his collision with fate that Drew was thinking: Your mouth always tightens like that when you’re pissed off.

  Trace was furious now that in spite of everything, no rain, no contact…the invisible thread connecting them was still there. It would have thrilled him under other circumstances. Now he yearned to punish the man who’d left him.

  “Maybe I should give you to Yarbo, or the men to play with.”

  “So you can watch?”

  “I could have you executed.”

  “You’re going to execute me for touching a nerve?” He laughed slightly, slipping his fingers into the waistband of his white briefs. “If it wasn’t for that mechanical thing, I might have a hard on. You know, I used to really get off stripping for you.”

  “You don’t seem to realise the seriousness of this, Drew,” Trace snapped. “You are trespassing on…” He stopped.

  “Damn you, Drew,” his voice was shaky. Once, they’d swum in the last natural lake. Its water was like deepest, darkest India ink. He’d forgotten about that lake. He remembered holding Drew in his arms and the long, drowsy kisses they’d shared. Trace reared his brain from the memory, his mouth falling open, drowning in the past…

  “You set yourself up for this,” Drew shook his head. He was staring at Trace and all the pretence…all the bravado fell away. Trace knew and Drew knew it, that Drew didn’t want to have to use his body against Trace, but he would if that’s all he had. He was a gambler, after all. “You still want me? It can be arranged. Actually, I prefer you to…does it have a name?” He looked above.

  There was silence. Trace turned his back. “You will stay there until someone comes for you.” His voice was icy cold.

  Trace started to walk away and heard the sound of that metal contraption descending over Drew. He heard Drew sigh. “Oh well, guess it’s just you and me, honey. And to think, I don’t even know your name.”

  Trace turned the corner of the corridor and pressed his back against the wall, his eyes closed. He reached down and pressed a hand discreetly against his erection. He had failed his own damn test. He’d told himself that watching Drew strip down wouldn’t affect him in the same way as it used to. Ha! Who in hell was he trying to fool? He certainly didn’t fool Drew. And what in the world had gotten into Tor? Sure, they’d fucked a few times but it was never serious. He liked Tor, but he really didn’t feel much more than a deep fondness for him.