Wheels Up Read online

  Wheels Up

  By Annabeth Albert

  Their love is forbidden, but their hearts aren’t listening to rules and regulations...

  Lieutenant Dustin Strauss is a reformed man. No longer a twentysomething hell-raiser, he’s his SEAL team’s new XO—and a man with a secret. Or seven. He’s kept his bisexual identity under wraps for years, along with his kinky side and a fondness for the military-themed semianonymous hookup website Joe4Joe. His latest chat buddy is more than a sexy online distraction—they’re taking their very not-safe-for-work relationship into real time.

  Petty Officer Wes Lowe has a smart mouth, a take-charge attitude and an uncanny ability for making things go boom. The life of an enlisted man isn’t always enough to satisfy him, but one wild, no-questions-asked weekend with his online love comes close. When a transfer order comes in, Wes feels ready and centered. He’ll make a good impression on his new SEAL team and keep his growing feelings for Dustin on the down low.

  But as they log more time online and some very real emotions surface, Dustin and Wes struggle to pretend they’re just a harmless fling. And when his commander introduces Dustin to his team’s newest member, they’re in for the shock of a lifetime...and a crushing disappointment: their difference in ranks means even a friendship without sexual contact could end their navy careers for good.

  With their hearts on the line, Dustin and Wes may not survive their next mission, let alone find a way toward a future together.

  This book is approximately 77,000 words

  One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

  Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Deborah Nemeth

  Dedication

  This one goes out to my tireless editor, Deb Nemeth, who pushed me to make Dustin’s story the best it could be, helping both with the initial concept and with the edits, turning the spark of an idea into something I’m very proud of.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Excerpt from At Attention by Annabeth Albert

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Annabeth Albert

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Let’s meet.

  Dustin stared at his phone like it might suddenly turn into a live grenade. Which, en route from San Diego to Baltimore on a commercial airline flight, would be a very bad thing indeed.

  Meet. As in a real, live, in-person meeting with the guy he’d been talking to for months on Joe4Joe. And sure, plenty of guys used the military-themed hookup app to do just that, adding “DTF” to their profiles and going straight for easy local meat that was “down to fuck,” not wanting to waste time on cyber. But that wasn’t Dustin.

  His phone vibrated again with a new message. You there? This doesn’t have to be a big thing. If you’re going to be in the DC area, we might as well go for the live-action version of our usual, don’t you think?

  Heat arced up Dustin’s spine at the mention of live action. Jesus. Just the idea had him squirming in the tight seat. This had all started because Dustin was traveling to DC—Annapolis to be more precise, which he wasn’t sharing with the guy he still knew mainly as Saucer-Man—when Saucer-Man had messaged him, looking to see if Dustin would be around that night for chatting. And Dustin had been truthful, in the same vague sense he always was with Saucer-Man, telling him he was on a plane headed for the DC area for the weekend.

  What he didn’t mention was that he was headed to the Naval Academy for two alumni functions—dinner that night and then a ceremony in the morning. But he was bored as heck with the long flight, so he’d paid for the Wi-Fi upgrade and figured he might as well use it by talking to his favorite chat buddy. It was a bit of novelty, flying commercial anyway, but he’d wanted to be sure that he’d be in Annapolis on time, something that wasn’t always guaranteed when trying to catch military flights. However, he’d forgotten how his big frame did not fit in coach. He’d been excited to see that Saucer-Man was online, pulse thrumming like it always did when he saw the little light next to his name in Dustin’s contact list on messenger.

  Not free until tomorrow night, he hedged on a reply, not wanting to completely shut down his friend. He’d known that Saucer-Man was on the East Coast, but hadn’t quite realized he was driving distance to DC until he’d proposed this absurd idea of meeting.

  That’s fine, the reply came quickly. It’ll take me a bit to drive up anyway. I just happen to be off this weekend, and it seems a shame to waste it.

  Dustin wasn’t sure exactly what Saucer-Man did—something involving security. He sounded like an MP, and judging from his Southern accent when they did video chat, Dustin had always pictured him stationed farther south.

  This is crazy, Dustin typed back. We don’t really know each other.

  That wasn’t strictly true of course—they had six months of conversing under their belts, and he knew plenty about the guy, knew that he liked cold pizza, that he had a crush on Dierks Bentley, that he worried about his family, and that he liked the same terrible 1950s sci-fi as Dustin. Oh and Dustin knew what he sounded like when he came. All sorts of details, both intimate and mundane.

  The guy’s reply took a few moments, long enough for Dustin’s neck to start sweating. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the response to be. Finally his phone buzzed. So we’ll play it cool. Safe. I can meet you at the Smithsonian or someplace public. There’s a new narwhal exhibit I’ve been wanting to check out at the natural history museum.

  See, Dustin did know this guy, because that was absolutely plausible—in addition to fifties sci-fi, he loved nature documentaries and shows, especially ones about weird creatures. They’d watched more than one shark show together while chatting. Still though, it was tough to shake the feeling that he might be being played. How will I recognize you? he asked.

  That wasn’t the same as the outright refusal Dustin should be making, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. He could recite poetry about the other guy’s dick and lean, wiry body, but he’d only ever seen his face in deep shadows, usually hidden by a hat pulled down or a pillow. And hell, this entire endeavor was all about Dustin’s curiosity, and Saucer-Man knew it.

  The reply came slower this time and had the little spinning symbol for a file uploading. Here. Probably past time I showed you my ugly mug. Don’t share in any of the forums, okay? Look for me around four-ish?

  Holy fuck. It was a picture. And not a dick pic or selfie of his abs, but a plain old normal safe-for-work shot of a guy in a white T-shirt, not smiling with broody eyes and dark, almost black hair. Dustin’s first thought was how the guy was younger than he’d expected—not painfully young like a new recruit, but still younger than Dustin’s thirty-two, probably in his midtwenti
es. His second thought was how fucking cute the guy was. Just his type with the soulful eyes and slim-but-strong shoulders and hint of scruff along his jaw.

  Wait. Not his type. Dustin wasn’t supposed to have a type of guy, at least not so far as anyone in his life knew. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

  Still there? Did I scare you off?

  Oops. The guy was probably waiting for a return picture of Dustin or for him to say something to break the endless minutes of silence while he tried not to freak the fuck out. He was a Navy SEAL, for fuck’s sake. He could handle a little picture.

  No. Just thinking. You look good. Was that the right compliment? With a girl, Dustin would know better what to say, how to compliment her hair or her eyes or her choice of tops, but he was still feeling out his way around guys, especially beyond the trite comments on dick pics that passed for foreplay online.

  And how will **I**recognize **you** ;) Saucer-Man didn’t give up easy, which was one of the things Dustin really enjoyed about him, how the guy could be take-charge and assertive without being overbearing.

  Dustin had to think fast. He didn’t have many solo selfies on his phone—all the pictures that showed his face also had his brother or his friends in them, and he sure wasn’t going to try to take a passable shot in the middle of a packed flight. Plus, his military training made him reluctant to share a face pic—one never knew when something would wind up in the wrong hands. Finally, he typed, I packed my Oregon Ducks T-shirt, but I’m not sure this is the best idea... I don’t even know your name.

  The woman in the seat next to Dustin shifted about uncomfortably, glaring at him. Hey, it wasn’t Dustin’s fault that God had chosen to make him six four and built like a soccer forward with big shoulders and big thighs. This was one of the rare times that he wouldn’t mind being more normal-sized like his younger brother, Dylan. He tried to give the woman his best smile while waiting for a reply.

  You can call me Wes. And I’m not going to ravish you in the middle of the museum, even if you ask nice, okay? We’ll look at some stuff, maybe grab a beer after. It’ll be fine. Are you afraid someone will see you out with a guy? I can promise no PDA if that helps.

  God, this would be so much easier if Saucer-Man—Wes—wasn’t so freaking nice. He was always like this in chat too, sensing when Dustin was nervous or reluctant, and knowing exactly what to say to calm him down. And just like how Dustin knew him, he knew Dustin too, knew that his bisexuality was something he usually kept on the serious down low.

  I’m not afraid of PDA. That was a lie, a bit of bravado he felt obligated to make. Truth was that the thought of PDA made him both itchy and jumpy—like his skin wasn’t quite up to the task of holding in all his nerves. He’d never gone further than cyber with another guy, and the risk of discovery was a big reason why. He was dying to get Wes’s hands all over him, find out if his fantasies did the reality any justice, but the chance—however small—of someone seeing him on a date with Wes made his heart pound.

  Well, then let’s do this. Aren’t you at least a little curious?

  Oh there was that word again. Dustin was more than curious. He wanted to know if this incredible chemistry could be duplicated in person. Wanted to know if Wes could make his pulse race from across the room, wanted to know what Wes smelled and tasted like. Yes, he was more than a little curious.

  But curiosity could be a dangerous thing, as he well knew. Cautious prudence was the better tactic. Meeting someone he knew online, even someone he liked as much as Saucer—Wes—was a bad idea. He’d never told him he was a SEAL, of course. He knew better than that. All the guys on Joe4Joe went nuts for SEALs, and every third dude there claimed to be one. No, it was easier to be Godzilla, the guy who let people assume he was a marine and who let his faceless pics do the talking for him. Up until he met Saucer-Man, he’d mainly used the app for pic swapping and the occasional no-faces cyber with guys he never heard from again.

  But Wes was different—he wasn’t just an avatar of a 1950s movie poster, he was someone who made Dustin laugh, who was fun to talk to even about stupid stuff like band names and food aversions, and who knew how to turn his crank like no one else ever had. And he’d kept coming back. Even when Dustin had been gone for a while on a mission, Saucer-Man had been there to take things back up again. Funny how this online connection had become almost like a real friendship, one Dustin valued far more than he usually let himself admit.

  But it wasn’t real, of course. Couldn’t be. This was just his super-nice jerk-off buddy. Who wanted to meet in person. Holy fuck. What was he supposed to do? Dustin could lead guys into the most dangerous of missions, jump into the pitch-black sky for a HALO jump, and swim miles, but he couldn’t figure out what to reply to Wes. After several tries at typing and erasing messages, another one came in from Wes.

  Tell you what. I’m going to come up to see the exhibit anyway. I’ve been meaning to get out of here. If you’re there, we’ll talk, have that beer. If not, I’ll go hit up some Dupont bars after I see the museum. No pressure.

  No pressure. Ha. Dustin was feeling all kinds of pressure, especially down south. His body really wanted him to say yes. And he really needed to type something. Wes was sticking his neck out, making this overture, and Dustin was reacting like some seventeen-year-old virgin. He could have a freaking beer with the guy, right?

  Maybe, he typed at last. Just a beer.

  Maybe they’d have terrible in-person chemistry. Maybe Dustin wouldn’t be turned on in the slightest. Maybe they’d walk around, look at the exhibit, and realize what a stupid idea this was. Hell, maybe Wes wouldn’t like him. Here he was, all assuming that Wes would want in his pants from the get-go, when for all he knew, Wes really did just want a friendly beer.

  See you there, Wes replied, adding an emoticon of a whale.

  Holy fuck. What had he agreed to? Breathing like he’d done an hour of wind sprints, Dustin pocketed his phone. Was he really going to do this? He’d spent years running from his attraction to other men, never venturing beyond the relative safety and anonymity of the internet. Was he ready to take that step for a guy he didn’t really know? Could he trust Wes?

  You can always change your mind. He had over twenty-four hours to do just that, to talk some sense into himself, to remind himself who and what he was and what he couldn’t have.

  * * *

  He might not show, Wes reminded himself when he stopped for gas outside Richmond. He’d left Little Creek early. It might only be three and half hours to DC, but he knew from years of being stationed here that capital traffic was anything but predictable. And he liked being prepared, always had. Similarly, he already had a room for the night, a place in Dupont he’d stayed at before that wouldn’t break the bank. He wasn’t going to wait and see if Godzilla had a hotel—he really had meant it when he said he’d be fine with just a beer between friends.

  This wasn’t solely about getting laid—it was more wanting something tangible to go along with the months of chatting, wanting to match up an actual flesh-and-blood person to the words on the screen and the voice in his ear. If they connected this weekend and ended up naked, that would be awesome, but Wes was also okay if the other guy wanted to keep such things for the middle-of-the-night chat sessions. It wasn’t like Wes had the time or inclination for a real relationship right now, but his...friendship—or whatever one wanted to call it with Godzilla—meant something, and meeting in-person felt like a logical next step, to him at least.

  The early March wind whipped through the trees at the edge of the gas station. They hadn’t started to bloom yet, but at least they were past the worst of the winter months. If nothing else, it was a good day for a drive.

  Buzz. Wes’s phone had a message but it was a new playlist and an emoji-laden update from his sister, Sam.

  It’s my latest mix! Even threw in a Dierks song or three, just for you ;) Hope your weeke
nd is awesome.

  Smiling like he always did with a message from his favorite sibling, Wes tried to tamp down the brief hit of disappointment that it wasn’t his chat friend. They’d chatted further last night, and Godzilla, who was always a cagey motherfucker when it came to details, had said that Wes could call him Dustin. Chances were high that it was a fake name or a last name, but it sure was nice to have finally progressed to something beyond Saucer-Man and Godzilla. He’d wanted names for a while, but hadn’t wanted to spook the other guy.

  Like you did when you suggested meeting? Wes didn’t have to have video chat to know that Dustin’s eyes had bugged out at the mere mention of in-person. Eyes that Wes still didn’t know what they looked like. Oh, he had plenty of pictures of the guy’s other parts all stored behind a password on his phone, but no face pics. They hadn’t ever mentioned meeting before, but then he’d known very early on that Dustin was on Pacific Time to his Eastern Standard. But hearing that Godzilla was coming here to Wes’s neck of the woods, or at least close to it? That had made him more impulsive than usual. They probably wouldn’t ever get a second shot at this, so why not take it?

  That thought fueled him the rest of the way to the DC area. He blasted his sister’s latest playlist—the one she called “North Carolina Country,” and navigated his older-model Jeep through the increasingly heavy traffic. He kept the SUV in good working order, but he still felt a bit conspicuous among the newer compacts all over DC.

  He checked into the hotel, texted Sam a reply with far fewer emojis, took a fast shower, and spent a bit too much time figuring out which shirt to wear, eventually settling on a blue T-shirt that advertised the triathlon he’d run for heart disease awareness, and the nicer-than-usual jeans that he usually reserved for his sporadic gay bar outings. He added boots and a heavy belt because he liked that beefed-up vibe, and he had a feeling Godz—Dustin would too.

  He got to the Natural History Museum by 3:30 because he was pretty much genetically incapable of not being early, but he didn’t start loitering around the giant elephant in the rotunda where they’d agreed to meet until five till. Four o’clock came and went and no sign of a guy in a Ducks T-shirt. Dustin had mentioned his home state a few times in passing, and Wes liked knowing that little scrap of personal detail about him. At 4:10, he was tempted to send a text, but resisted. Either Dustin would show or not, and he had to be prepared for not. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to have a good time in DC by himself—he wasn’t exactly a club rat, but he did okay for himself when he wanted to make the effort.