Free I'll Be Your Last by Jane Leopold Quinn Page A

his elbows on the wooden surface.
    He kept his back to the room, but the nape of his neck prickled continuously. Praying Woody would leave soon, he conversely wanted him to come over. God, wasn’t that screwed up? Mack took a swig of beer.
    And then, suddenly, there was said Woody Kane, pushing himself between Mack and the person next to him, his elbow on the bar as comfy as you please.
    “Just came over to say hello.” Woody’s tone was mild.
    “Hello,” Mack growled back.
    “Well, then, have a nice dinner.”

    64
    Jane Leopold Quinn
    Mack didn’t respond. He’d thought he was a smoother character than this, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t want a lasting relationship with the kid, but seeing him with another man had not felt good.
    “If you can truly ignore what happened and pretend it didn’t mean anything to you, then you’re a jerk bastard.”
    “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
    “I’m putting in for a transfer.”
    A bubble of panic arose in Mack’s chest. “I thought you said I had to.”
    “I don’t care who does it. I just don’t want to look at you every day.”
    He gazed into the mirror over the bar. It was safest to look at Woody through that blurry distance. He glanced toward the restaurant’s door. “Isn’t your date anxiously waiting outside?” He put all the snide he could muster into that comment.
    Woody’s eyes widened. He took a deep breath and said through a tight jaw, “That was my father, you nimrod.”
    “Nimrod?” He huffed out a puff of air. Shit. Now he just felt stupid.
    “What are you afraid of, Mack?”
    “What the fuck do you think?”
    “No one has to know.”
    “You know as well as I do that someone will somehow find out, and we’ll be crucified.” Mack shook his head. He wanted Woody in every way but feared the repercussions.
    Woody turned and walked away, muttering cuss words. For some reason, that made Mack laugh. It also gave him a good view of the kid’s tight ass in snug jeans.
    Mack lost his appetite, at least for food.

    I’ll Be Your Last
    65

Chapter Nine
    Woody didn’t give a good goddamn what Mack did. He was off duty. All he wanted was to hit the hay and sleep. Shit. Running into the guy ruined his evening. He’d make it up to his dad, though. At least Charles saw for himself what he was dealing with in Mack. He did have to chuckle at his father’s “holy crap.” That about said it all.
    Leaning back against the kitchen counter, he crossed his arms over his chest and sipped a beer. He needed to wind down a little before taking a shower, going to bed, and hoping he could stop obsessing about Mack.
    The hot shower only brought Mack, the nimrod, front and center in his mind. He chuckled at the epithet. Oh, boy, did it fit. The last thing he needed in his life was another man not interested in a relationship. Denial was something he was very familiar with in other gay men. He didn’t advertise it at work, but he embraced his sexuality in private, knowing he was gay from the time he was sixteen. It sounded like Mack’s life had been very different. Being an in-the-closet Marine must have been tough. He didn’t know how Mack had managed it. He must have a will of iron to hide such an important part of his life from his fellow Marines. It would undoubtedly be pretty hard to be open about being gay now after so many years of hiding it.
    But he was just making excuses for Mack’s actions.
    Woody groaned and slapped a hand against the shower’s cold, slippery tiles. Stroking his cock with a warm, soapy hand, he wished he had his dildo and that Mack was here to play with it. Mack hadn’t much been in denial when he fucked Woody the other night. He’d been totally engaged in their activities. His palm cruised up and down 66
    Jane Leopold Quinn
    the smooth, hard length of his dick, squeezing, mimicking the tightness of a man’s channel. God, would he love to fuck the rugged man. Love to have him on his back beneath him, watch him