by Lane Hart
“Of course I want you here!”
“But Nolan doesn’t,” I reply.
“Luckily for you, he’s a very forgiving guy.”
“Uh-huh.”
Nolan Bishop was a member of a motorcycle club back five years ago when he and my sister first started dating. He was a badass then. I seriously doubt the time has made the self-proclaimed Savage King any softer.
“Nolan promised he won’t lay a hand on you,” Rita says into the silence. Then, she blows out a worried breath. “Although, I can’t promise that his best friends Hugo and Abel won’t try and kick your ass if they find you alone.”
“Great,” I mutter.
“I’ll tell Nolan to make sure they behave too. It’s my wedding day! He won’t let anyone ruin it.”
“Then I guess I should plan to come back to campus that night.”
“No, stay for the weekend! We’ll be here until Sunday, then we’re off to St. Lucia! No telling how long it will be before I see you again…”
“Ah, probably not until graduation.”
“I’m so proud of you!” she exclaims, making me wince and my dick deflate. Eventually, I’m going to have to be honest with Rita and tell her the truth – that I don’t have just one more semester to go but two before I fulfill all of the requirements to graduate with my business degree.
“Okay, well, I better get back to studying,” I tell her.
“You do that. Love you and see you soon.”
“Love you too, sis. Bye,” I say before ending the call.
Fuck.
And there goes what was left of my erection as my cock slips out of the tight, clenching hole.
“No, no, no. You can’t stop now. I was so close!”
“Shut up.” Grabbing the back of his curly blond hair in my fist, I tug on it until he rolls his six-foot-five body to his back. Then I remove the condom from my flaccid cock and move up to straddle his handsome face. “Open wide and suck me until I’m hard again.”
There’s no complaint, just an eagerness in his eyes as the closeted star basketball player licks his lips, parts them, and gets to work bobbing his head on my dick with the same kind of enthusiasm with which he swishes balls into the net.
I don’t go easy on him either, making him gag and drool all over my lengthening cock. While I may not be very thick, I do have a nice long shaft perfect for taking virgin asses and tickling tonsils.
Once, when I was young and inexperienced, it was me who was dominated and manipulated while I bottomed for a tough guy in high school.
Then, when I got to college, I didn’t have to hide who I was anymore, and instead of being used by the gay and bisexual men on campus, I decided to profit off keeping their secrets. Since I also date and fuck plenty of beautiful women, no one really questions what the guys and I do in the privacy of their apartment or mine.
I guess you could call me a whore or a gigolo. I call it being smart. If they’re going to use me for a good time, the least I should get is enough cash to cover my rent.
My sister has paid every cent of my tuition here at Walraven University, even though she had to work two shitty jobs and scrape to get by. I couldn’t ask her for more cash for nice clothes, my car, or my apartment, and fucking guys I’m attracted to is easy money. Easier than working a part-time job. It still gives me plenty of time to study. And since not all of my customers are jocks but a variety of cliques, I get all the help with essays and access to lecture notes that I need from the bicurious dorks.
I use their brains and give them access to all six foot four of my ripped, muscular body and long dick, something they had only dreamed of having before.
What more could a man want?
I’m not stupid enough to believe in shit like falling in love. That’s not going to happen for me. How could it when I flip-flop on a regular basis between wanting gorgeous men or sexy women? I honestly couldn’t tell you which gender I prefer. The answer would be both at the same time. And since the closeted men don’t trust any chicks to play with us, and the gay ones don’t want anything to do with seeing the opposite sex naked, I have to continuously switch teams.
It’s exhausting, but fun. At least for now.
Maybe that’s why I didn’t bust my ass to try and graduate in May. Another semester on campus isn’t necessarily a bad thing if I can just figure out a way to come up with the money to pay the extra tuition.
Chapter Three
Abel
The next few weeks go by in a blur. All Nolan talks about is wedding planning. Jake, Lucas, and Leo all get to come home from the hospital. The Kings decide to put them up in the safe house, thinking they would not only feel better there but enjoy each other’s company as they recover.
We even hired a ridiculously hot nurse to live with them, take care of them, and even give them sponge baths or blowjobs as requested.
Okay, so Nadia isn’t really a nurse. She’s a wild, sexy girl Hugo and I have hooked up with a few times before.
And fuck, it’s been so damn long since I’ve gotten off that I need a release before I explode.
We have a few hours to kill before Nolan’s afternoon wedding, so I go down the hall to find Hugo in the living room of the house we just rented together. The two of us were sharing one with Nolan, but once he and Rita got together, Hugo and I bounced, giving them the place to themselves.
My best friend is sitting on the sofa in nothing but a pair of red athletic shorts, flipping channels, his sculpted chest and thick, corded arms on full display.
The fact that I think he’s attractive is a statement of fact. Any other man or woman would think so too. Right?
“Want to go to the safe house and fuck Nadia before the ceremony?” I ask him as I lean my lower body against the back of the matching blue recliner chair across from him.
He stretches his arms over his head in thought, drawing my eye to where his abs are pulled tight, revealing the trail of black hair leading under his waistband. I quickly force my gaze back to his in time to hear his response. “Nah.”
“Nah?” I repeat, glad he can’t see my dick already getting hard behind the zipper of my jeans that’s blocked by the chair.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t mind a quick fuck,” he starts. “It’s just…I think I’m over threesomes.”
“You’re what?” I exclaim, the words coming out louder and more vehemently than usual since I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
He lifts a single shoulder, avoiding my eyes as he keeps them on the television. “I’ve never really liked sharing.”
“Then why did you?” I snap at him, my disappointment turning into anger.
“Because I knew you liked it.”
“Yeah, what’s not to like about both of us being balls-deep in a woman at the same time?”
“It was fun for a while, it’s just not really my thing anymore,” Hugo replies.
“After what, six years it’s suddenly not your thing?”
“Bringing home one beautiful woman was just easier than two.”
“So, you did it all those years for convenience? That’s fucking ridiculous, and you know it! You could walk in any bar and have anyone you wanted.”
“True enough,” he replies with a cocky grin, his lips mostly hidden by his beard. “Which is why I’m gonna do my own thing from now on and you can do yours. I’m sure you can find another guy to double team with you if that’s still what you want to do.”
“Where would I find another man willing to do that? All the Kings are getting married and shit except for Leo, Marcus, and the prospects. Three of them are hurt, and the other would take a bullet before being near another man’s dick.”
“No kidding.” Hugo barks out a laugh. “The only threesome Marcus would have is with two women. Why don’t you give those a try for a while?” he asks. Then he’s staring at me, barely blinking his dark eyes.
“What?” I huff.
“You and two chicks. It wouldn’t be hard to pull off.”
&
nbsp; “I…yeah, sure, maybe,” I say in a rush, instead of what I was really thinking. “Is that what you’re going to do? Fuck two women at the same time?”
“Nah,” he says again. “I’m done with threesomes, period. What’s the big deal, anyway? Nolan never liked sharing either, and you never gave him hell for it.”
“Wait. Are you saying you never liked them?” I ask in disbelief. “You are so full of shit!”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Yeah, it was fun, and I enjoyed myself when we were younger and all. Now, I guess I’m just over it.”
“Well, fuck you! I’m over this whole goddamn conversation,” I tell him before I stomp out of the house.
Chapter Four
Selina
I was able to convince the Cherry Wood apartment manager that I was Rita Collin’s longtime friend from high school so he would give me her address. I even wore a nice girly dress that was low enough in the front to distract him with what little cleavage I have and took out all my facial piercings except the two on my earlobes.
After that, I packed up everything of value into Dubois’s ancient, beat-up Ford truck since I wasn’t sure how long it would be before the landlord threw everything out of the trailer he rented. Besides, staying there alone just reminds me of him. It feels like I’m waiting for him to walk through the door, which isn’t going to happen.
Everything in the boxes are stacked up in the cab with me in case it rains, including Dubois’s denim cut. He was buried in the leather one, but the denim still smells like his aftershave.
For now, I’ll be sleeping in my truck in Myrtle Beach. I would have loved to have ridden Dubois’s Harley, but since I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle, it would’ve ended badly. He promised to teach me one day…
God, I miss that man.
He could be an asshole, but he was my asshole.
The GPS directions led me to a nice two-story home in a decent neighborhood when I first came to town. There’s no visible vandalism or trash in the streets. That’s damn near high-class compared to where I’m from.
And I would’ve marched right up to the door and talked to the woman who apparently drove a giant psycho over the edge if not for the new, shiny Harley sitting in the driveway.
It suddenly hit me.
Could this Rita chick be hooking up with some guy from another MC?
Maybe it wasn’t even Leroy who killed the guys but another club for some sort of revenge. They could’ve set it up to make it all look like Leroy was the one to blame, sending him running or…killing him too?
One of my questions is answered about half an hour later as I sit a few houses down, slumped in the driver seat of the truck.
A tall man with short, dark hair in a leather cut comes strolling out the front door with a visible confidence, making him look like he could single-handedly take on the world. There is definitely a huge white patch on his back; I just can’t tell what it is from this far away. Now, I’m really glad I stayed back and didn’t just go right up to the house and ring the doorbell.
The man takes off on his bike, so I follow him from several car lengths back. I envy the easy way he maneuvers the big Street Glide around the turns. He’s no newbie. And I’m not all that surprised when he pulls up at a bar and backs his bike into a row of other nearly identical Harleys. This definitely looks like an MC. I park down the street again, then do a quick search of the address on my phone while it still works. If I don’t find a job soon, losing cell service will be the least of my problems.
Bingo.
This isn’t just any bar but the clubhouse for the Myrtle Beach chapter of the Savage Kings MC.
Everyone knows who the Kings are. They’re one of the biggest MCs in the country, with chapters all up and down the East Coast. A group like that would be smart and savvy enough to pull off a massacre while setting up someone else to take the fall.
Rumors say they’ve already done as much with the cartel and Russian mob. No telling who else. Even if they didn’t pull the trigger, they’re probably responsible for the deaths of the Rebel Henchmen one way or another.
I intend to find out how, no matter what it takes.
And when the biker comes out with the rest of his buddies and they ride off together, I’m hot on their asses.
Abel
I can’t believe it. Nolan actually tied the knot this afternoon. I mean, I assumed he was going to when he was ready to marry the woman like a day after he saw her again after five long, shitty years. But now it’s done.
The ceremony was short and sweet, which was a relief.
Then, my dumbass and quick reflexes had to go and grab Rita’s baby blue satin garter out of the air when Nolan shot it toward me and Hugo.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to be the one getting married next. Nope. No way. Never going to happen for a million reasons.
A big one, of course, is that settling down with a woman would not only be lying to myself but her too, which would be fucked-up.
Nobody batted an eye when two of the brothers in the original Emerald Isle chapter came out together and in a throuple. Everyone was happy for Gabe and Ian, myself included. But this is different because the man I’m in love with is absolutely, without a doubt, straight as an arrow.
And maybe Hugo has finally figured out how I feel. Why else would he decide he suddenly wouldn’t be indulging me in threesomes?
Fine. Whatever, I guess. At least he agreed to rent a place with me after we gave up our house to Nolan and Rita.
Still, I don’t see Hugo settling down with one woman anytime soon either. Maybe he just needs a break, and then in a few weeks, he’ll come back around…
Or not.
“Rita, whatever happened to that stripper?” Hugo asks as we all stand around after taking photos with the happy couple.
The beautiful, strawberry blonde bride smiles at him and says, “You’ll have to be more specific since a lot of strippers came and went during the years I worked at the club.”
“Oh, right,” my best friend mumbles. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture of his. “Ah, I mean back when we first started coming with Nolan. Long, raven-haired beauty? I think her stage name was Felicity.”
Jesus Christ.
He still remembers her name after what? Five years? We’ve been with dozens of women together since then, maybe more. At least one a month.
“Why do you give a shit about her?” I snap at him before I can help myself. Then, when I feel everyone’s eyes on me, I add, “I mean, that was a long damn time ago.”
“She was hot,” Hugo says defensively, but it has to be more than that for him to still remember her stage name.
“Ugh, Felicity,” Rita grumbles, obviously not a fan herself, making me like Nolan’s new wife even more. “She was a bitch. And Felicity really was her name. I think she up and left a few weeks after you all met her.”
“Oh. That’s too bad,” Hugo replies. “Do you know where she went?”
“No, sorry, I don’t,” Rita answers.
“If anyone could find her, it would be Reece,” Nolan speaks up and says as he hooks an arm around his bride and pulls her closer to kiss the top of her head. “He’s over there.” Nolan points a finger in the direction of where a few Savage Kings from various chapters are gathered. None of the other original Savage Kings came except the IT genius who said he wanted to spend a week with his woman in one of our beach houses.
“Nice!” Hugo replies as he starts in his direction.
“You don’t even know her last name!” I remind him as he walks away. Hugo shrugs.
Nolan grins. “Bet you a grand Reece will still find her.”
“You’re on,” I agree as I reach out to shake his hand.
There’s no way. No fucking way. It’s been too long, and with no last name, she’s a stripper in a haystack.
I stare at the two men talking across the garden after Reece pulls out his phone, trying to figure what he’s saying. It’s mor
e than “no fucking way,” that’s for sure. In fact, I bet Reece loves a challenge.
Someone next to me clears their throat, and when I look back, Nolan, Rita, and the rest of the group have moved on, heading for the white tent where the dancing and food will go down. The only person left near me is Rita’s asshole brother. And right now, the redheaded bastard is smirking at me.
I would love to work out some of my frustration by punching him in his face, messing it up a little since he obviously spends too much time in front of the mirror to have his red goatee so perfectly trimmed. Every hair on his head is styled with some sort of product. Since most of the guests are Kings dressed casually in jeans and leather cuts, his bright blue suit that is nearly purple stands out. It even has a little triangular hanky sticking out the breast pocket. He’s trying too hard to be pretty, which is the opposite of my type.
Not that I have a type because I’m not gay. It’s just some men, like Hugo, are objectively big, muscular, and hot…
“What the fuck are you looking at, Chucky?”
He rolls his eyes that are a baby blue like Rita’s and scoffs. “Like I haven’t heard that insult a million times. Can’t you at least try to be original?”
The truth is, the longer I look at him, the more I notice that he’s bigger than I expected him to be – wide through the shoulders like a linebacker. I’m certain I could take him, but he might actually get a few licks in first. Why I’m surprised by the fact that he’s a few inches taller than me, I don’t know. I mean, Rita isn’t a little woman. I guess I had just assumed that someone who made such a pussy move as him, sending an innocent man to prison, would look like a little bitch and not a six-foot-four football player on steroids.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t look intimidated by me as he just stands there in his loud clothes, his perfect white teeth chomping down hard on a piece of red gum as he smirks. Guess I’ll need to try harder.
