"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, Jackson." Deputy Director Malone motioned with his hand. "Come in and shut the door."
Christopher Jackson stepped into the director's office and shut the door behind him. He nodded to the other man in the room, a man he knew well, and walked over to stand in front of the director's desk, his hands clasped behind his back as he waited to find out why he had been called to the director's office.
"Oh," the director said when he looked up from the papers he was reading over. He waved his hand. "Have a seat, Jackson."
Jackson sat down, although he felt a little funny about doing so when his immediate supervisor, Special Agent Maxwell Bernaro, was sitting on the edge of the director's desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I need you for a special assignment, Jackson," the director began.
Deputy Director Malone set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Without the director looking straight at him, Jackson could still see that the man was worn out and tired. He had the beginning of light bags under his eyes and age lines that had never been there before.
Jackson wouldn't want his job for love or money.
"How long have you been with the agency, Jackson?" the director asked as he lowered his hands to his desk and looked at Jackson.
"Seven years, sir. Two years as a field agent and five years on the Alpha One Fly Team."
"And before that?"
Jackson wasn’t really sure where this line of questioning was going. "Five years with Navy Intelligence, sir."
The chief looked down at a file lying open on his desk, nodding as he read. Jackson knew it was his file. He could see his name at the top in big bold black letters. Jackson glanced up at Max, wondering why the man was here if the special assignment was meant for him.
"It says here that your area of expertise is technical analyst for one of our fly teams."
The chief glanced back up, his face stretched tight with a grim look. "Do you like working in the field, Jackson?"
"Very much, sir."
"You came highly recommended by Special Agent Bernaro."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet, Jackson. You haven't heard what the assignment is."
"I have a situation that requires someone with your unique set of skills."
Jackson's eyebrows shot up. "My unique set of skills, sir?" What in the hell was that supposed to mean? His one main skill was being a technical analyst. He wasn't good at much else. He couldn't even drive a car.
"He means you being gay, Jackson," Max said.
"Oh." Jackson wasn't exactly sure being gay was a skill—at least, not that he had heard of.
"Yes, well…" The director's face flushed. He looked uncomfortable. Max did not. He looked amused. The slight smirk on the man’s face was a big clue.
Jackson had never hidden the fact he was gay from anyone. Everyone on his team knew he was. He refused to hide it. He was gay. So the fuck what? Jackson just didn't understand what sleeping with other men had to do with this current assignment.
"While this wouldn't normally even be discussed in the bureau, Special Agent Bernaro is correct in this instance." The director folded his withered hands together and rested his elbows on the desk, his face still slightly flushed. "Your unique skills would be of great asset on this assignment."
"My gayness would be of great asset?" Jackson glanced from the director over to his immediate supervisor. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. Never before had his being gay affected his job in any way. Now they wanted to use his sexual orientation? "For what?"
"Have you ever heard of the RAF?"
Jackson’ brows pulled together as he quickly racked his memory for the definition of those letters. "The Revolutionary Armed Forces, sir?"
The director nodded. "We've suspected for some time that they were moving arms into the country. For what purpose, we haven't been able to discover, but it's something big. The shipments that we have been able to track have been moving into the country at an alarming rate, nearly two a week for the last six weeks."
"Last week we were able to track one of those shipments to an Irish pub in Boston," Max added.
"An Irish pub in Boston?" Jackson arched an eyebrow in amusement. "You don't say."
"This is no laughing matter, Agent Jackson," the chief snapped.
"No, of course not, sir." Jackson instantly straightened his shoulders and dropped the smile from his face. "If you want to give me the pertinent facts to the case it shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours to get up to speed. I can have a suggested scenario for you by morning."
"That’s not why you're here, Jackson," Max said.
It wasn't? Jackson glanced between the chief and Max. He was a technical analyst. Putting bits of information together to make a whole picture was what he did. "So, what do you need me to do then?"
"The pub where the arms shipments have been going to is owned by a man named Hayden Flynn."
"Is he a suspect?"
"No." The chief grimaced. "He's a witness, a very important witness."
Jackson groaned and rolled over the second the door closed behind Hayden. This was such an extremely bad idea. He thought it was a bad idea when Max approached him about it but he had wanted to get out into the field and look good for the boss. Now, he was positive he should have turned the assignment down.
This was an incredibly fucking bad idea.
Jackson reached under his body and palmed his aching cock. His body seemed to know that he was trapped in Hayden’s arms even before he did. He had woken up surrounded by the man’s raw and powerful musculature —which only resulted in Jackson’s hard as steel erection..
Even knowing that Hayden was running from him hadn’t been enough to dampen the lust running rampant through his body. Nothing seemed to make his cock deflate, not even thinking about how bad of an idea this was.
Jackson groaned again and humped his hips, driving his cock through the firm grip of his fingers. He closed his eyes and imagined that it was Hayden holding him, that the man’s large strong hand was wrapped around his cock instead of his own hand.
The image began to build stronger and more vivid in his mind as he moved his hips faster and faster–Hayden’s fingers tightening around his erection, the man’s thumb rubbing across the slit at the top of Jackson’s swollen dick and then raked over the bundle of nerves just below the head.
He moved his hand faster and then squeezed his cock so tight that he thought he would break the damn thing. Jackson needed to come and he needed it now. He drew his knees up and moved his free hand down past his balls. He slid a single finger into his tight puckered hole, twisting his finger until he felt the tip slide against the little pleasure button inside his ass that made him gasp.
Jackson rocked on his finger as he rocked on his knees, his hips moving faster. He slipped in another finger inside his asshole, pushing the digits apart, stretching himself out as he imaged that it was Hayden’s dick splitting him apart. Wiggling his fingers around some more, Jackson started fucking himself.
Oh hell, that felt so damn good.
He shoved his fingers in and out of his ass, still imagining that it was the hard cock he had woken up to, pressing into his ass instead of his own fingers.
Never before in his life had he wanted someone to fuck him as badly as he wanted Hayden to shove his damn dick up Jackson’s ass. He wanted to man’s lips on his body, his teeth nipping his flesh, his body driving in Jackson’s.
Jackson’s hole clenched tight around his fingers at the fantasy building in his head, making him groan with need. He just bet Hayden would be a fantastic lover. The man was built to please whoever he fucked. Jackson was pretty sure Hayden could make him call to the gods. That thought send a spike of thrill through his body, making his cock impossibly harder.
His erection slid through his hand every time he thrust forward, wishing it was Hayden who was behind him instead of Jackson’s fingers. He could feel his balls drawing up tight against his body, his orgasm almost on him.
Jackson yanked his hand from his ass and then curled it into a fist, shoving the knuckles into his mouth to keep from crying out loud as his seed erupted into a sticky mess in his hand. He gave his cock a few last strokes as his body jerked with the last of his climax and then dropped his hand.
Flopping down onto the mattress, Jackson buried his flushed face in the pillows. His burning lust had been temporarily extinguished but somehow, he felt worse now than he had before he started jerking himself off.
He had no idea how long this assignment was going to last but he was pretty damn sure he wasn’t going to make it until this debauched mess was over. He had been attracted to Hayden Flynn from the moment he saw the man’s picture. Meeting him in person just made it all that much worse. Living in the same house was going to be damn near impossible.
Waking up in Hayden’s arms was going to kill Jackson