Gunnar

by Aiden Bates

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Gunnar was sitting in my desk chair, which he’d scooted close to my bedside. I hadn’t even noticed him there. He was wearing those thin gray sweatpants that drove me crazy, and a white undershirt that clung tight to his chest. Ridiculous. I’d gotten the shit beaten out of me and still the first thing I noticed were Gunnar’s tense muscles and the concerned downward tilt of his mouth.

  I took the glass gratefully and drank it down. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly midnight. On Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday?” I dropped my head back down onto the pillows. “That means—”

  “Yeah, you’ve been out almost two days.” He pinned me with his intense gaze. It was like a physical weight on me. I drew my lower lip in between my teeth.

  I remembered bits and pieces. I remembered being woken up a lot, pestered into checkups. I still felt a little loopy, like I was teetering on the edge of a bad hangover. But if Gunnar was here, that meant I was in for a lecture or a late-night shouting match. And I really didn’t want that. I was so tired. I wanted him to crawl into the bed next to me and lull me to sleep with the warmth of his body, but I’d already made the mistake of asking for that once before.

  “How are you feeling?” His voice was so warm and gentle it shocked me.

  “Sore,” I admitted. “Stiff. But my head doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst anymore.”

  “That’s an improvement,” Gunnar said.

  “Yeah.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. Gunnar rested his elbows on his knees, leaning his body toward me, his fingers pressed together against his lips. I was struck by the sudden, intense desire to reach out and skate my hand over the curve of his upper back. To soothe him.

  “You’re really not going to harass me?” I asked. “About what happened?”

  “I’m not,” Gunnar said.

  I looked away. “Then why are you here?”

  Gunnar seemed confused, like he wasn’t sure exactly how to answer. Finally, he stood up, and moved toward the door. “I should get Logan, now that you’re awake.”

  “Don’t,” I said without thinking. As grateful as I was to Logan, I didn’t want him at my beside prodding me.

  I wanted Gunnar.

  “Don’t what?” He turned and faced me. Standing at the foot of my bed, he tilted his chin down to look at me properly. With his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants, the moonlight illuminated the muscles in arms in gorgeous chiaroscuro.

  “Don’t leave.”

  A multitude of emotions ran across Gunnar’s face, so quickly I couldn’t track them, until his gaze settled into something soft and concerned. He placed one hand on my ankle and squeezed gently. A reassuring touch. But even with a blanket between us, his touch was enough to spark desire deep inside me. Despite the aches and bruises that my brush with the Vipers had left on me, my cock twitched hard and began to harden.

  I shifted my hips slightly. My face flushed hot with embarrassment. My body was betraying me, reacting like I was a teenager again, but even this small touch from Gunnar was so intoxicating that I couldn’t tamp down how badly I wanted more.

  Gunnar didn’t move his hand. His attention was like a physical weight on me, pinning me to the bed.

  “Raven.” Gunnar’s voice deepened. His gaze moved down my body and lingered at my crotch, where the shape of my hardening cock was visible through the thin blanket. His hand didn’t move from my ankle, and his grip felt like a brand. “What do you want?”

  There was an almost dangerous stillness to Gunnar, like a predatory cat waiting to pounce on its prey.

  “Nothing.” I turned my head into the pillow, too mortified to meet his eyes. “Forget it. You can leave. I won’t break into your room and molest you again, promise.”

  I already knew Gunnar didn’t want me. Especially now that I’d proven myself to be a complete idiot, running into enemy territory and getting my ass kicked, and I didn’t even have any information to show for it. I was useless. The fact that he was there right now didn’t change anything.

  “I know you’re only here because you have to be,” I said. “You don’t have to pretend to care. I know I’m basically dead weight in the club.”

  “What?” Gunnar furrowed his brow deeply. “That’s not even close to true. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

  I huffed a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you, since that’s all you make me feel.”

  His touch finally left my ankle. I waited to hear the door open and close. But it didn’t. Instead, the bed shifted as Gunnar sat down at the foot of the bed.

  “That’s not…” He trailed off, sliding his hand over my shin and up to my thigh.

  I shuddered under his touch.

  “I never wanted you to feel that way,” Gunnar said. “I think you’re the best Hell’s Ankhor has to offer. Smarter than the rest of us combined, I’m pretty sure. Funny. Observant—maybe too observant. Right hook like a guy twice your size.”

  “Maybe that last part’s true.” I tried to suppress a small smile. A faint hope bloomed in my chest, but I tried to ignore it. Just because Gunnar was being nice to me now didn’t mean anything. He probably just felt guilty because he hadn’t been able to follow me effectively. He’d made it extremely clear, over and over, that he wanted nothing to do with me sexually or romantically. Even with his hand gripping at my thigh and his gaze fixed on my mouth, I had to remember that. I couldn’t get my hopes up just to get let down again. “But the rest isn’t. You don’t have to patronize me just because I’m a little banged up.”

  “I’m not patronizing you,” Gunnar said. “I’m trying to be honest here.”

  “Then be honest,” I said. “I know you think I’m just a dumb kid with a crush.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He paused, leveling me with his gaze for a long moment of hesitation before a smile spread slowly on his face, and he pulled his lower lip in between his teeth. Predatory but teasing at the same time. It sent a hot thrill down my spine. “You want me to be honest? You want to know what I think?”

  I met his gaze steadily. If this was a challenge, I wasn’t backing down.

  Gunnar hopped onto the bed, on his knees, with my legs pinned between them. My breath caught in my chest. The weight of his body on my legs was nearly overwhelming.

  “I think you need to stay very, very still,” he said.

  I gripped the sheet beneath me. My eyes widened. He pulled the thin blanket down around my thighs. Without hesitation Gunnar reached out and gripped my hard cock through my briefs. I gasped. His grip was rough, unselfconscious—he didn’t move his hand at all, but the pressure was enough to send my mind reeling.

  Was this really happening? Things had changed so suddenly—this was like something from my fantasies. I half-expected to wake up at any moment—this had to be a vivid dream. I’d blame the pain medications.

  Gunnar was watching me with something like awe on his face.

  “God, you’re reactive,” he murmured. “Stay still. And quiet.”

  Then he slid my briefs down just enough to free my cock. My hands twitched at my sides. Remaining motionless felt nearly impossible—I itched to touch him. Wherever he’d let me.

  He skated one callused hand gently over my bruised abs. His face twisted slightly as he touched them, but the pained expression didn’t linger. Then he ducked down and, without preamble, sucked the head of my cock into his mouth.

  If my legs hadn’t been pinned underneath him, and his hands hadn’t moved to my hips, I would’ve arched off the bed. He sucked me down slowly, taking his time, like he was savoring it.

  He’d told me to stay still, but if this was a one-time opportunity, I was taking advantage of it. I touched his head gently, and when he didn’t pull away, I dragged my fingers through his close-cut blond hair. When I ran my nails over his scalp, he groaned around my length, and the vibration sent a bolt of pleasure through me.

  “Gunnar,” I whis
pered. “I can’t—I won’t last.”

  He slid his mouth off my cock with an obscene wet sound. He licked his lips as he jacked me slowly with one hand, the motion smooth and easy, lubricated by his saliva.

  “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Let me return the favor.”

  Did that mean—he couldn’t mean that.

  And then he winked at me.

  I didn’t understand a fucking thing about this man.

  He ran the flat of his tongue up the length of my cock, and then sucked me back down again, taking the full length of my cock all the way into his throat easy as anything. I melted into the mattress beneath him, letting his weight pin me down and the slow, luxurious pace of the blowjob create a slow build of pleasure in my gut like a tide rising.

  I still had my hands in his hair, and I slid one hand around the back of his head, scraping my nails across the soft hair of his nape. He moaned deeply and quietly, like a purr.

  He kept his pace slow and steady. Heat coursed through me. My skin flushed with it. My toes curled in the sheets. I tried to wiggle beneath him, but it was impossible to move under his bulk, and somehow that made the blowjob even more delicious.

  “I’m close,” I whispered.

  Gunnar hummed around me then slid one hand up my torso, under my shirt. He slid his palm over my pec, and then pinched my nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

  The quick, sharp flare of pain was enough to send me over the edge. My orgasm rolled over me like a wave. I closed my eyes and tried to arch up, to get even deeper into his mouth, and Gunnar let me, taking me as deep as he could.

  He swallowed it all, sucking me down like he couldn’t get enough.

  I panted through the aftershocks, almost dizzy from how hard I’d come. Gunnar grinned at me, and then fixed my briefs and pulled the blanket back up. Like this was just a rudimentary thing rather than something earth-shattering. He was still kneeling on the bed, and his cock tented his sweatpants, a small wet stain formed where he’d spurted precum. It made my mouth water—and it was reassuring, in a way, to see physical evidence that sucking me off had turned him on.

  “Let me,” I said. “I wanna get you off.”

  Gunnar chewed his lower lip like he was thinking about it. Then he shook his head and stood up. He adjusted his cock with a grunt, a sound that sent another thrill of desire through me. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  “Not about me,” he said. “You need to rest.”

  As if he’d cast a spell, exhaustion crashed over me. I tried to blink it away.

  “See?” he said. “You’re falling asleep just talking to me.”

  “Getting you off will wake me up,” I argued half-heartedly.

  “Nice try.”

  “Gunnar, I…” My eyes flickered closed. Because I was tired, and because I couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes when I was halfway to begging. “Don’t leave, though.”

  He didn’t respond, but his touch grazed over my forehead as he brushed my hair away from my eyes. I had a vague memory of a similar gesture when I was in-and-out of consciousness.

  Had he touched me so tenderly before?

  It didn’t seem possible.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Get some sleep.”

  I didn’t say: Stay here. In my bed. Like we did that night.

  I knew he wouldn’t, and I wasn’t going to push my luck. If this was all I ever got, I wanted the memory to end like this, with Gunnar’s strong hands gentle on my forehead as I fell into sleep.

  13

  Raven

  Gunnar was true to his word. When I awoke, he was there, leaning against the wall by the door with his arms crossed over his chest. But before I could say anything, he slipped out the door. Logan stormed in moments later, his green eyes blazing.

  “I can’t believe you.” Logan’s words were sharp and fast, like he’d been waiting to chew me out—and he probably had been waiting for the go-ahead to dress me down. “You saw what the Vipers are capable of. You saw what they did to me.”

  He pulled my shirt up perfunctorily, without even waiting for my agreement, and examined the bruising. He poked and prodded at my ribs.

  “That hurts!”

  “You are really fucking lucky,” Logan said. “You should have broken ribs, or worse.”

  I said nothing. No way I was telling Logan it was genuinely pure luck that saved me.

  Logan’s hands shook the barest amount. “You scared us. Me especially.”

  Shame flooded me suddenly, overwhelming the sting of pain as Logan pressed on my ribs again. I hadn’t considered how Logan might react to having to grapple with the Vipers again. His kidnapping was still fresh. He’d only been in Hell’s Ankhor a few months, but he’d slotted in like he was filling a hole in the club I hadn’t realized existed. He was a brother to me.

  “I never meant—”

  “I know. Just—don’t do it again, okay? If you hadn’t gotten away…” He paused and took a deep breath, pressing gauze to one of my wounds. “They like to send messages. What happened to me could’ve happened to you. They don’t fuck around.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I really get that now.”

  “Do you?”

  “Trust me,” I grumbled. “I’m not keen on getting my ass beat again.”

  “I do trust you,” Logan said warmly. “I just think you’re a bit of a moron.”

  “Well, it’s part of my charm.”

  Logan rolled his eyes and taped the gauze down.

  “That’s gonna linger for a week or so,” he said, nodding towards the bruise on my cheek.

  “Figures. Karma, I guess.”

  “No, karma would be Gunnar pushing you into the lake, or something. Not a Viper beatdown.” Logan hummed thoughtfully as he gathered his medical equipment. “You know he’s your detail now, right?”

  “Excuse me?” That shocked me into full wakefulness. I was annoyed, and then relieved, and then both, all in the space of a breath.

  “Yeah, Priest told me he assigned him to you. Though if you ask me, Priest didn’t need to make it official. Gunnar would’ve been doing it anyway.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is that cool with you?”

  “Guess it has to be,” I said. “I feel like I’ve already taken a few years off Pops’ life. I can’t push back on this.”

  “Not really what I was asking,” Logan said. “But good.”

  I said nothing, and Logan didn’t push. He always knew when to push and when to back off. I was especially grateful for that now.

  “Listen,” Logan said. “Everyone wants to bother you. You want me to keep them away for a few hours, or are you good to receive your adoring public?”

  “Gimme a half-hour to clean up,” I said.

  Then Logan left me alone, and I took a long, much-needed shower.

  So Gunnar had spent the night because he had to. Priest’s orders. But would he have stayed otherwise? The blowjob he’d given me—the fucking best blowjob of my life, so lingering and luxurious, my cock stirred with interest at just the memory—was definitely not part of his duties as sergeant, and he could have spent the night stationed outside the door if he’d really wanted to. But he’d stayed, because I asked.

  And I had to admit to myself there was no small amount of relief that Gunnar was at my back. Even though I hadn’t involved the club the way I planned to, I was grateful I had backup now. I couldn’t continue on this path alone. Especially now that the Vipers knew who I was and what I looked like—and what I was after. They’d be waiting for me to show back up.

  After my shower, in the dense steam in my bathroom, I wiped the mirror clear and examined my reflection. All things considered, I didn’t look too bad. My eye was definitely on its way to swollen, and the bruises on my torso made me appear even paler than usual.

  I was a mess.

  And Gunnar had still wanted me.

  But for how long?

  I spent the next three days recovering. I slept for hours and hours, ate immense
amounts of food, and tried not to linger too much on my investigation. The bruises along my ribs and abdomen where the Vipers had pummeled me were fading into sickening shades of yellow and green. The worse they looked, the less they hurt.

  Logan had me off booze and on more ibuprofen than I thought necessary, but it seemed to be working. The bruise on my face where the Viper had backhanded me had coalesced into a lovely shiner. That was karma, I guessed, for my earlier pigheadedness—and for the shiner I’d given Gunnar when all of this started. But for as much time as I spent in my room, I didn’t spend a whole lot of it alone. Every member had spent time with me, bringing me food or books or in Siren’s case, a few hands of poker.

  Siren examined the cards in her hand thoughtfully. “I call.” She added a few chips to the pile growing on the edge of my bed.

  I’d always resented the extra attention the rest of the club members showed me; the way they would single me out to spend time with me was not something they seemed to do with other members, and felt like a holdover from the days when I’d been a kid they’d been awkwardly trying to bond with. I hated feeling coddled, or like I was receiving special treatment because I was the leadership’s son.

  But something in my perception had changed in the last few days. Maybe it was getting so close to the Vipers and seeing not only how they treated me, but how they treated each other, but I realized I’d been taking Hell’s Ankhor for granted. The way I was being cared for now—not just Logan’s physical care, but the near-constant barrage of visits—wasn’t coddling or babying.

  It was just love. I saw that now. Everyone in this club loved me like they loved every other member. I wasn’t a drain on the club, or the annoying kid they put up with because they didn’t have a choice. I was one of them. We’d fight to the death for each other, if need be. Not every club was like that. And I’d wasted so much time rejecting them and wallowing in my own insecurities, feeling like I had to handle things on my own.

  No wonder Gunnar had pushed me away. He’d treated me like a kid because I’d acted like one. Petulant and insecure.