Finding You, Finding Me Read online

  Morale had improved after Market Garden’s hardships and with the return of the men to France. They passed through bucolic French countryside, stopping in small villages for rest and recuperation, and for once, they were safe during the night. When they made Paris, the battalion knew—they just knew—they’d get a liberty call.

  Liberty came, freedom in Paris for forty-eight hours. Just like in England, cheers and hollers rose all around, the men racing to dump their gear and head out on the town. Paris, only recently liberated in total, was still a city in recovery, but the French welcomed the Americans, and the city was doing its best to revive and thrive.

  Just like before, Giordano plopped down next to Will at the chow table in the tent set up at their base in France. He was munching on a croissant this time and snagged Henry’s before Henry could protest. “So,” Giordano said, spitting flecks of croissant on Will’s tray. “You guys gonna come with us or what?”

  Henry simply smiled.

  * * * * *

  A day later, they were walking in Paris, strolling by the Eiffel Tower and across from the French military hospital. Giordano, Barr, Phillips, and Ramirez were goofing off, playing with a camera they’d been given and posing to look like they were hoisting the Eiffel Tower on their own. Henry and Will hung back, laughing at their antics, and Will slipped his arm around Henry’s waist.

  Instead of fighting him, Henry relaxed into Will’s side and then slid his own arm around Will.

  “I want to kiss you right now,” Will murmured. “Here in Paris, under the Eiffel Tower…” He sighed, smiling at Henry.

  “Trust me,” Henry said with a smile. “I want to do a whole lot more to you than just that.”

  “Hey!” Giordano shouted, waving at them. “Keep up!” He glared at them, shaking his head, and then ran to catch up with the others. They were crossing under the Eiffel Tower, staring up her skirt, in a way, and shouting into the iron girders.

  Will slowed Henry down, waiting until the others were far enough away. He turned, but Henry beat him to it, grabbing Will’s face with both of his hands and pulling him close. Their lips met, hot and wild, tongues and teeth dueling. Henry sucked Will’s lower lip into his mouth, stroking with his tongue before nibbling on his skin. Henry tangled his tongue with Will’s, hot and desperate, as he tried to climb into Will’s body.

  They broke apart with a gasp, foreheads leaning against one another. “We have to catch up,” Will whispered.

  “I know,” Henry breathed. “But I don’t think I can walk just yet.”

  * * * * *

  That evening, the group found a Parisian bistro café, and the wine bottles came pouring out. Red, white, and schnapps, all for the troopers. French musicians played into the night, girls danced with the troopers, and toasts were raised. Cigars were lit, and then cards were dealt, and the evening passed in a joyous, loud blur.

  Around eleven, Will slipped away, catching the eye of the proprietress. Eloise, she said her name was, and she smiled at Will with bright eyes from a shrunken, too-skinny face. The occupation, he thought, and the famines.

  “Excuse me, Madame,” he tried in stilted French. “Do you rent rooms for the night?”

  Smiling, Eloise pressed a key into his hand and gestured to the staircase at the back of the hall. “Room three, on your left.”

  Will smiled back and pocketed the key, thanking her over and over again. She returned his thanks equally, and they both grasped hands and laughed. Will slipped back to the table and into the card game, sliding a hand under the table to grip Henry’s thigh in a secret squeeze.

  Henry, as it turned out, was a damn good card player. He had the rest of the table out, save Giordano, and was getting ready to take every last red cent from Giordano’s pockets. Scowling, Giordano refused to give up, and when he showed his cards, he lost it all. Henry laughed, plucking the cigarettes from the pile of winnings and pulling out a fresh light.

  Grumbling, Giordano glared at Henry, but then a glass of wine was in front of him. The band started up again, and everyone was off singing and dancing with the ladies from France.

  Will leaned back, throwing an arm around Henry’s chair. “They rent rooms here,” he whispered into his ear. “I got us one.” He met Henry’s gaze, shock racing through him at the unbridled lust he saw blazing within. “If that’s okay.”

  “More than okay,” Henry breathed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  *

  Moving quietly, they slipped away from the main room, heading for the stairway. Henry made a quick detour, grabbing a bottle from the shelves in the sideboard along the hallway and then raced after Will, urging him along up the stairs. Laughing, Will grabbed Henry as they made the landing, pulling him close for a long, deep kiss.

  “Finally alone,” Will whispered. He pulled out the key, letting it dangle. “Room three, on the left.”

  Snatching the key, Henry found the room and went inside. A simple double bed, a radio, a small table and one chair. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, shared. The room was more than enough.

  Henry locked the door behind Will and then stared at him. A thousand emotions tore through him, nameless, formless. He was lost; he knew it, and it was the one thing he’d never wanted to be.

  The moonlight caught on the windowpanes, casting a pale glow into their room. Will was silhouetted in the half light, his eyes gleaming in the silver glow. “You’re beautiful,” Henry murmured and then swallowed.

  Will held out his hand. Slowly, Henry peeled himself from the back of the door and went to Will, taking his hand in his own. Henry pressed a kiss to each of Will’s knuckles, then to the center of his palm. Will curled his hand around Henry’s neck, his thumb stroking over Henry’s skin. They kissed, slow and sweet, a gentle meeting of lips without heat.

  Still, Will shivered, a shy smile on his face. “Sorry,” he said. “I actually have no idea what to do now,” he whispered. “I mean going, you know, all the way.”

  Henry smiled, slow and sinful. “Do you want to?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Will whispered. “With you.”

  “Then let me show you.” Henry pushed Will backward, guiding him toward the bed and gently pushing him down to the mattress. He loomed over him, stroking his face as he leaned down for a kiss—hot, wet, and filthy; the exact opposite of their sweet kiss only moments before. He bit and laved at Will’s lips and then sucked on his tongue. War waged between them, dueling and caressing, as Henry began unbuttoning Will’s uniform shirt and slid it down his arms.

  Will jerked and reached for Henry’s uniform with shaking hands. He undid the buttons and then helped Henry slide out of his jacket. Henry batted his hands away and slipped his T-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. His mouth dropped open as Will undid the buttons on his pants and pushed them down his legs.

  It wasn’t the first time they had seen each other naked, not at all, but it was the first time they got to take their time, enjoy it, savor the moment—and the privacy—for what it was. Will’s hands snaked out, stroking over Henry’s skin, over his thighs, his stomach, and down into the curls surrounding his cock.

  His cock grew harder with every light stroke and pet Will gave it. Leaning forward, Will licked the head of Henry’s cock, a light flick of his tongue, and Henry jerked, nearly jumping backward.

  Eyes gleaming, Henry grinned at Will. “You’ll pay for that,” he whispered, just before he descended on Will, hands tearing his uniform away, leaving him naked and hard and writhing on the mattress as Henry hovered above him. “You’re hard,” Henry purred.

  Will curled his hand in Henry’s, fingers threading together. “I wonder why,” he breathed.

  Henry grinned, heat flashing through him, and all he wanted was to press down into Will’s body and wrap his arms and legs tightly around him. “Will,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss his lover’s neck. Longing—yearning—and molten heat burned through his body. “Do you want me?”

  Will groaned, his eyes fall
ing shut as his back arched. “God, yes.” Deep, heavy pants shook the air. Henry held Will’s hands to the mattress, but Will managed to wrap one leg around Henry’s waist, even though Henry was still on his hands and knees over Will.

  “I want to make love to you,” Henry moaned. He kissed a slow path from Will’s neck to his jaw, then up to his ear. “May I?” he breathed, his hot, shaking breath ghosting over Will’s hair. “I want to. God, Will, I want to so badly.”

  “Please,” Will begged, trying to grind his hips—and his cock—up against Henry. Will’s breath hitched, almost choking.

  Henry leaned down and nuzzled the side of his face, cheek brushing against cheek. “You have no idea how much I want you,” Henry breathed. You have no idea how much I care for you, he didn’t say. He couldn’t say it, not yet, but the feeling burned through his whole body, seeming to explode from his very bones.

  Will groaned, one hand grasping at Henry’s neck, holding him close before drawing him in for another lingering kiss. Henry buried his face in Will’s neck, inhaling his lover’s scent. Slowly, he dropped down, letting their bodies slide into contact, letting skin finally touch skin, warm and alive and trembling. He shuddered at the feel of his lover, at the way their bodies fit together, the feel of Will’s hard cock pressing into his belly and rubbing against his own. He moved closer, seeking more of Will’s tight body, his compact muscles, and his heated trembling.

  He wasn’t strong enough to escape this, not now, not ever again. Will had come into his life and taken over, had remade everything in Henry’s world, and now, here they were. On the precipice of something, everything, and Henry couldn’t pretend this didn’t mean the world to him. No matter how much of a coward he was about saying what he felt, he still couldn’t deny it, not even to himself. Henry poured his love into every breathless kiss, every stroke of his fingers, every touch of his skin against Will’s. He sucked on Will’s neck, on the skin just below Will’s ear, and then kissed his way up to his hair, inhaling his perfect scent. Perfect, in every way.

  Will was writhing, gasping, just from Henry’s touch alone. Henry’s blood surged, yearning.

  Henry stroked Will again, running his hands over taut pecs and tight abs before gripping Will’s hips. Then, he snaked them down and around Will’s lissome thighs, lifting them and resting his legs on top of Henry’s. Draping his body over Will’s, he captured his lips in another hot kiss, wet and filthy.

  Will shivered, but he reached for Henry, tracing the lines of his ribs and stroking over the pert hardness of his nipples. He scratched down Henry’s side, and Henry bucked, shuddering and shivering all at once. Their cocks jerked against one another, pooling with fire and blazing need.

  Henry fell forward, catching himself with one hand as he rocked over Will. Will’s legs hitched higher over Henry’s thighs, his hips, urging him for more. Transfixed, Henry stared down at his lover. He’d never seen a more gorgeous, passionate sight—Will, spread for him, raging hard cock leaking precome as he moaned for his touch.

  “I need…” Henry leaned back, reaching for the floor with a twist that nearly tore his back in two. Grasping, he pulled his pants to him, searching in his pockets. There. Grasping his prize, he hauled himself back upright, waving the bottle in front of Will with a grin.

  “Olive oil?” Will frowned, chuckling once. “What the…”

  “I left my Vaseline in England,” Henry chided, smirking as he poured oil onto his fingers from the decanter he’d swiped from the café. “I didn’t think I’d be getting lucky in the middle of the war.”

  Will swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He smiled but bit his lip. Henry could see the fear in depths of his eyes, the uncertainty. He was thinking of all the jokes, all the derision, all the crap spewed about taking it in the ass. Henry smiled down at him, trying to reassure him, and touched his chest, right over his heart.

  “I’ll lube you up,” Henry winked, trying for levity. He reached for Will’s ass, sliding slick fingers between his tight ass cheeks. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  The olive oil was slick, and the room smelled faintly of bread and black olives, but Henry focused on touching Will, on the smooth glide of his finger as he slid into his asshole. He moved gently, circling and stroking a place within Will that was untouched, unbreached, unknown. Will bucked on Henry’s finger, and the oil made a sloppy, wet sound as Henry added more to his finger—now fingers—inside Will’s ass. Will breathed hard, squeezing the bedsheets in tight fists, and Henry rubbed his stomach and made soft sounds as he found Will’s prostate with a slow, gentle stroke.

  Will shot up, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold back his scream. Henry kissed him, then, biting his lip as he pressed against Will’s deep sweet spot. Will was gorgeous, sweaty, shaking, and coming apart with just Henry’s fingers, and Henry didn’t know if he’d be able to last long.

  Pushing Will back, Henry grabbed a pillow and slid it under Will’s hips, angling them up. He didn’t want to roll Will over, not now, not for this. He needed to see his face, to look into his eyes and press kisses to his lips. Grabbing his legs, he rolled Will’s hips up, pressing close. He moved his cock over Will's asshole, and his precome smeared on Will’s skin, mixing with the oil drenching his ass. No condoms—not for them, not in this war—and Henry nearly came at the thought of Will’s ass taking his load.

  Their eyes met, and Will reached for Henry, his hands stroking down Henry’s chest. “Henry,” Will breathed. “Please.”

  Not able to speak, Henry angled his hips, nudged his cock head against Will’s entrance, and pushed. Instantly, velvet heat enveloped his cock head, tearing though him, and he shuddered as Will gasped again and dug his fingers into Henry’s skin. His fingernails left half-moons all across Henry’s shoulders, bruises that would bloom before the night was through.

  Will’s back arched, and his mouth fell open, a silent scream gripping him as he was pierced. Henry pressed kisses to his chest, sliding in slow—despite the thunder in his veins—and whispered sweet nothings into Will’s skin, calling him beautiful, calling him perfect, calling him “love.” As he sank deeper, Will started to breathe again, his body accepting Henry’s slow thrusting, and Will met him with a soft roll of his hips. Finally, Henry was all the way in, his balls pressing against Will’s ass.

  He was lost, one giant mass of feeling, a naked nerve strung out on the strands of searing pleasure, ready to explode with the simplest touch. It had been too much at first, but now wasn’t enough. Rocking his hips, Henry met Will’s gaze.

  Curling forward, Henry found Will’s lips, and he pressed a moaning, panting kiss to his mouth as he rolled his hips against Will’s body. Will’s eyes rolled back as he grabbed Henry’s head and held him close.

  They rode each other’s thrusts, slow and gentle at first, trading kisses and moans and breaths. Will’s cock bounced on his stomach, smearing precome all over his skin. Shivering, Will groaned as Henry sucked at his lower lip and picked up the pace, sliding harder into his body, bottoming out with every thrust. He honed in, watching Will’s face for clues. He ground his cock into Will’s prostate and felt Will’s body tense as he kept up the pace on his lover’s hidden depths.

  “Come on me,” Henry breathed. “Come with me inside you. I want to feel you coming on my cock.” He swallowed, closing his eyes as Will’s body shuddered, almost there. Henry dropped one hand to Will’s cock, stroking the hard length. He was so hard he was almost purple, near bursting, and weeping with precome.

  Will screamed at Henry’s touch, thrashing and bucking, his head thrown back, and it was all Henry could do to keep driving into him. He wrapped Will up, buried his face in Will’s neck, one hand furiously stroking Will’s cock in time with his thrusting hips, and he was so fucking close that if Will didn’t come, he’d be the first to finish. Not yet, God, not yet.

  “Will, love, come for me,” Henry whispered into Will’s ear. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. I love you.” He kissed Will�
�s neck, his hair, his jaw as he babbled, not caring what he was saying.

  Will must have heard, though, and he exploded at Henry’s words, at his declaration of love. Screaming again, though trying to muffle himself against Henry’s shoulder, Will’s cock sprayed thick, heavy ropes of come over them both, hitting their chests. He came and came and came, seeming never to end. His ass clenched down, milking Henry, and Henry tipped over the edge, gritting his teeth through his own orgasm and driving deep into Will.

  Henry thought he’d never stop, but he finally collapsed on Will, breathless. Will stroked his back, and Henry pillowed his head in Will’s neck as he softened, his cock slipping out of Will’s body. Will shuddered, kissing his scalp.

  “I love you too,” Will whispered.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the men on liberty straggled out of the café after two AM. They were drunk, weaving in and out of each other on the streets, and one of the newcomers—after D-Day, everyone was a newcomer—piped up. “Hey, where’d the queer go?”

  Giordano was on him in a flash. “Shut your mouth, mother fucker!” Giordano shouted, not caring about the late hour or the dense streets they were wandering in. “Don’t say a fucking word about that!”

  “What?” The newcomer, a sergeant from another company, scoffed. “Everyone knows he’s queer. He’s known as the queer. What gives?”

  Giordano rushed him, face twisted and full of fury. “He’s also jumped more ’n you, fought more ’n you, saved more lives than you ever will. You are so far beneath ‘that queer’ that you’ll never even know the kind of balls he has.”

  “I don’t want to, believe me,” the sergeant snapped, smirking. He was trying to be funny, but he was just a jerk and Giordano didn’t do jerks. Not anymore, not after seeing what Iverson almost went through and not after fighting side by side with him for six long months. He’d fight to the death for Iverson—and Rollins, too—and he wasn’t putting up with anybody fucking with his men.

  He slugged the newcomer hard, knocking him to the cold Parisian streets. The sergeant went down with a thump, landing in a rough tumble. He was drunk enough to be uncoordinated when he tried to stand, and he fell again. “The fuck!” the sergeant shouted. “You some kind of queer, too?”