Chapter 8

John extracted himself from Jason’s arms incrementally, almost as though he were loathed to leave the haven he’d found. It was a mutual feeling. When John was upset, Jason became unsettled. Nothing rattled John.

An expression Jason had never seen passed over John’s face, half elated and half terribly sad. His commander’s fingers, which belonged to an artist and Jason teased him about it all the time, came up and framed his face with the lightest touch.

He froze, statue stiff in a second. They’d agreed to limit personal touches and he couldn’t believe John was willing to break that. John ignored it, pulling him in until they were eye to eye, nose tips almost touching.

“I’m happy you’re with me, that you agreed to come,” John murmured. His eyes were intent on Jason’s, bright and searing. “You have no idea how much I need you.”