Capture & Surrender (Market Garden, #5)(25)

“Surprised he didn’t barrel tap you,” someone muttered.

Stefan glared at the one who’d made that comment, then shrugged and shifted his gaze towards the can he’d pressed against his side. “He knows as well as everyone out there. Get within ten feet of me, you’re a dead man.” He glanced up at Mike, and this time he grinned. “Or I’m capturing you.”

Mike wasn’t even subtle about shivering. “Yes. Yes, you would.”

Stefan looked at Scott. “I almost captured you, by the way.”

“What?” Scott nearly dropped his drink. “Seriously?”

Stefan nodded. “Another six feet, and your ass was mine.”

Frank couldn’t be sure, but he thought Scott whimpered. Stefan glanced at him, winked, and focused on icing his welt.

“You were right.” Geoff came walking towards them from the ready area. “His gun was out of cal. All fixed now.”

Chris scowled behind Geoff but said nothing.

Great. Exactly what this group needed. Drama on a goddamned paintball field. Frank shook his head and helped with setting up the grill—sausages and all—and managed to not constantly peer at Stefan, because, yeah, that was subtle.

The Chris thing had clearly not worked out, though Frank still wasn’t quite sure why Stefan seemed to prefer him over that piece. Chris was younger, absolutely prettier, and ripped. And from what people said, he was pretty good in the sack too. It wasn’t Chris’s driving that had spoiled that, but Frank struggled to imagine what Stefan was hoping to get that looked better to him than what Chris had to offer. He examined the thought without self-pity, either.

One of the guys put the sausages on once the coal was nice and hot. Hungry guys were starting to linger in the general vicinity.

“So when do I get something good to capture?” Stefan asked near him.

Frank turned his head. “Plenty out there.”

“You said you play every now and then.” Stefan licked over the edge of his teeth. “Fucking a ref is hot, though possibly against the rules.” He kept his voice down.

Frank drew a deep breath. “I could possibly do one.”

Stefan’s eyes trailed up and down his body, like a hunter selecting the buck he was going to shoot. “You should. One more? I’m wounded.” He indicated the area where the paint had been rubbed to a blotchy shadow. “Not nearly as dangerous anymore.”

“Yeah. Right.” Frank all but laughed at him. “Why? What’s it to you?”

Stefan stepped closer, almost right into his face again, then brought his lips close to Frank’s ears. “Foreplay.”

Oh f*cking hell.

Stefan huffed near his ear. “You gonna take me home, Frank? I don’t have a car.” His half-sing-song tone implied he was a little boy lost and would surely come to trouble if he didn’t get a ride. Ride on what, though . . . that was the question.

It hit Frank like a sucker punch in the gut. Seduction. How f*cking long had it been since anybody had bothered seducing him? He barely remembered. Not like this, anyway. Not so . . . brash and playful and like the other man would have him and didn’t mind using guile or force. It was all a head game, but damn if other parts of him weren’t listening up.

“Plenty of time to think about it.” Stefan stayed close and tempting. “Oh, and by the way? That place where Chris got me? Hurts like a motherf*cker.” He leaned in even closer, whispering so softly there was no way anyone in the camp heard him except Frank: “And I like pain.”

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Frank slack-jawed and quickly hardening inside his camo trousers. A seductive top who was into pain and wanted him? This had to be some sort of cosmic practical joke. Or maybe all the other guys had given Stefan the rundown of Frank’s weaknesses, and now they were all wagering money on how long it took for Frank to melt at the cocky American’s feet.

“What was that all about?” Geoff stepped up next to Frank. “You look like the kid slapped you.”

Frank swallowed. “Slapped me in a good way or a bad one?”

Geoff’s eyebrows jumped. “You tell me.”

Fuck. I don’t even know. Frank shook his head. “We should feed these guys before they start eating woodland creatures.”

Geoff didn’t move. “Frank . . .”

Frank put up a hand. “Relax. It’s all under control.”

“Uh-huh.” Still he didn’t move. “Just wondering whose control?”

Good question.

“Ask me again on Monday.”

Geoff sighed. “Just be careful with him.”

“I know,” Frank said. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“We have. But neither Mike nor I are totally convinced we got through.”

“Yeah?” Frank folded his arms across his camouflage jacket. “And why’s that?”

Geoff lifted his chin, locking eyes with Frank. “Because when the kid was talking to you, I have no idea what he was saying to you, but I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

“Have you?”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah. Usually right about the time you’re in that state of mind where you’ll let me or Mike do whatever we want to you.”

Frank’s stomach flipped. He broke eye contact with Geoff, and his gaze landed on the guys gathered round and gazing longingly at the grill. “We should feed these guys.”