Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2 by Sara York Page A

bottle. He never done it, but a few of the guys asked to be off duty. Zander needed intense counseling after one of his missions, and he stayed off site for a few weeks, but the hell he'd gone through had been worse than any of the other guys had seen. "It's always an option. Operatives need to be at peak. If there is anything distracting you, you need to speak up."
    "Yeah, I could see that being important."
    "You itching to go out on a mission?"
    "Yeah, can you tell?"
    He chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. "A bit. I'm usually antsy to head out. I like being in the field most of the time. The ranch is great. Having support makes a difference. It's one of the reasons Duff agreed to start the ranch. You know, most assassins work alone. There is a huge amount of mistrust among them and too many end up dead before their time. The death rate is huge, either suicide or mistakes in the field. Few know the true statistics because not many people like to list assassin as their line of work, but it's bad. Duff wanted to change that. Maybe it's too crazy of an idea, trying to make assassins play fair, but we try."
    Roger took a sip of his beer and relaxed in his chair. "Craig turning has to be a blow to Duff."
    "Yeah, you could say that. We all thought of Craig as family. Though he was different than the rest of the guys, more competitive, and less of a team player."
    "When I was serving, team was the most important thing. We didn't work to preserve ourselves—I mean there was some of that, but on the battlefield, the guys put the team first."
    Marshal wished he knew what had made Craig turn against them. It couldn't have been something small or easy for him. Being dedicated to honor and justice was ingrained in Marshal's life. He would always make the choice for justice over self. That Craig had decided to go against that principle and choose evil over good baffled him.
    His phone beeped, signaling an incoming message. "Grant just texted. He's in Denver. I guess that means he'll be home soon. Said we should go to bed—that we'll talk in the morning."
    "Probably wise."
    Roger stood and turned back to him, lifting a brow. "You coming?"
    "Yeah. I have something I need to do."
    He followed Roger in, tossing his bottle into the recycle bin before walking to Zander's room. Two beers wasn't enough to have him drunk, but he was pleasantly buzzed and feeling good. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, cracking open the door just a bit. Silently, he stepped in, allowing the door to shut behind him. Zander had already fallen asleep, one leg was out of the covers, the other tucked beneath the white folds. The man hadn't closed his blinds fully and moonlight spilled in, shining on the sweet curve of Zander's ass.
    Marshal pulled off his shirt then unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them to the ground. When he tugged his underwear waistband out, his dick wasn't held in place any longer and stood straight up, pointing to his bellybutton. After ditching all of his clothes, Marshal stroked his cock, wondering how angry Zander would be if he slipped in while he was still asleep.
    The lube sat beside Zander's bed and he grabbed the tube, slicking up. He wondered if Zander had jacked off before falling asleep. Marshal lowered slowly to the mattress and ran his nose along Zander's spine, loving the way the man smelled. The masculine scent was too much, and he needed a taste so he licked Zander's neck, eliciting a moan from his man.
    "Zander, I want you."
    "Marsh?"
    "Yeah, babe, you awake enough for me?"
    "What are you doing?"
    Marshal lined up his dick, sliding between Zander's ass cheeks. The pucker was tight and it took a few swipes of his dick against the bud to relax his man. He felt the difference but didn't slip in.
    "Let me have you." Marshal begged as he brushed his cock over Zander's opening.
    "Oh hell, so good." Zander whispered and pushed back, allowing Marshal's slicked up rod to slide in. "Fuck...so hard."
    Marshal gasped, the