Wheels Up Read Online Annabeth Albert (Out of Uniform #4)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Out of Uniform Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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No one could get him out of his head like Wes, and Wes would know what to say to make this family stuff more bearable. Dylan and Apollo had made a big deal about how this was a “small” wedding, but the crowded room made them both liars. Their whole immediate family had come down from Eugene with other farther-flung relatives using this as a chance for a reunion. And it felt like half the base was there to boot.

Not Wes. God, Dustin’s friends would roast him on a spit if they knew what he was up to with an enlisted man under his command. Which sucked because other than that, they would love Wes. He’d fit right in, gaming with Zack and Pike, talking cooking with Maddox, quietly listening to Apollo and Ben bicker, joining in on Dylan’s jokes. Too bad that was never going to happen.

“Dance with me?” Allie, one of Dylan’s friends, tugged him away from his father and uncle before he could answer, away from a conversation he hadn’t been following anyway.

They’d danced earlier, before Dustin had pled the need for a drink refill. He’d said yes to her to make up for saying no to Isaiah who still saw way too damn much and had asked him to dance with a little wink. She was nice and cute, if a bit too young, but that didn’t stop Dustin’s dad from giving him a big thumbs-up as he let her lead him to the dance floor.

The classic pop song was slow enough for partner dancing but fast enough that Dustin could get away with a loose hold on Allie rather than a tight clinch. Not that that was stopping Ben and Maddox from swaying together, no air between them, not too far from him and Allie. God, I want what they have. And what Dylan and Apollo had too—they were holding court over at the head table, the girls dancing around them in circles, arms around each other, happiness bright as a solar flare and just as impossible to replicate.

“You’re a good dancer.” Allie beamed at him with praise he didn’t deserve.

“Not as good as you.” Dustin forced out both the line and a smile.

“So...” She licked her lower lip. “I came with a group of friends. But...would you want to give me a ride home?”

Oh fuck. This was worse than Isaiah’s unspoken invitation earlier. Worse because everyone would expect—want—him to say yes here. His dad would cheer him on, and Dylan had made no secret of wanting to hook him up with Allie for the past year. And she was nice, cute, and sweet, all the things Dustin was supposed to want but didn’t. A decade ago, Dustin wouldn’t have hesitated to take her up on the offer, would have gone home with her on almost autopilot, but now a wedding hookup was the last thing on his mind.

“I can give you a ride,” Dustin said slowly, hating the way her face brightened. “But I can’t come up. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugged even though her eyes were big with disappointment she didn’t try to disguise. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I’m flattered,” Dustin said truthfully.

“You shouldn’t be alone all the time.” Her smile was wistful, but her earnest tone reminded him of Wes last week. You needed a friend. Shouldn’t be alone.

“Eh. I’m used to it.” He spun her just to see her grin widen. Inside though, her words hit a tender spot just below his sternum. He didn’t want to be alone. Maybe you don’t have to be. The thought teased at the edge of his brain while he led Allie around the dance floor.

As the song ended, he delivered Allie back to the table full of her friends, her lightly saying she’d ride back with them, him trying not to audibly sigh with relief. Escaping to the hall, mind still churning like a boat wake, he fished out his phone. And instead of immediately messaging Wes about the wedding hell he was in, he opened his search engine.

This plan, like so many of his, was totally on the fly and probably a terrible idea, but he was just in the mood for saying “fuck it” to his whole damn life. A few swipes around his phone, and he was all set.

We should meet, he typed at Wes, whose chat icon was illuminated. Deliberately echoing their DC hookup was sure to get Wes’s attention.

Exactly how drunk are you on wedding champagne? Wes’s reply was near instantaneous and he’d added a rolling around emoticon.

Not nearly drunk enough. I’m downtown, near a zillion hotels. What do you say we get lost in one of them together for a few hours? Not the wedding hotel, obviously, as it’s still swimming in SEALs, but there’s a place I found... He added a link. Distract me from all the humanity I’ve had to deal with.


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