The Innocence Series: Complete Bundle

by Riley Knight

  Sam’s hands were inexpert and a little bit uncertain, but he had clearly paid attention to what Gunner had done when they were doing this the other way. The condom was rolled into place, and slippery lube was dribbled over it, and then Sam was straddling Gunner’s hips, both of them a little bit cramped in the relatively small space, but Gunner, at least, couldn’t care in the slightest.

  “Oh God, baby, fuck yourself on me,” Gunner urged, while Sam shot him a look that was so full of mischief that Gunner couldn’t help but be aware that Sam was doing this all on purpose. Working them both up, promising more than he gave, at least at first.

  Slowly, Sam rubbed his ass, his tight, virgin ass, down against Gunner’s dick, teasing him, teasing them both. Gunner’s hands settled on the slender curve of Sam’s hips, his muscles straining as he fought his own body, refusing to do what he wanted. He would not just simply push up into him, not this first time.

  It wasn’t just mischief. Sam was nervous about this, and it clearly meant a lot to him. So Gunner groaned and held himself back, let Sam take it at his own pace, and soon enough, Sam started to let his weight fall, gravity pulling him down. Gunner gave a soft, urgent little cry as his cock forged its way between those impossibly beautiful little cheeks, the thick, leaking head of his dick right against the entrance to Sam’s body.

  They looked at each other, and what they were doing felt like a promise, somehow. They had been together before, of course, had made each other come almost too many times to count, but this was different. They had just agreed to be together, and that promise danced in their shared gaze, made this moment, already so intense, that much more vivid.

  “Gunner,” Sam moaned, his tone almost helpless. That taut body shifted, the muscles under Gunner’s hands clenching as Sam drove himself down onto Gunner’s sheathed cock for the very first time.

  Sam had prepared Gunner well. He couldn’t help the groan that came onto his lips as his lubed cock slid inside of Sam, and the physical sensation of it was good enough, but it wasn’t even the best thing. The very best thing about this was the look on Sam’s face, the rapture that Gunner saw there, made selfish and greedy by the feel of Gunner’s blunt cockhead against his prostate.

  This, Gunner had done more often, and he knew exactly the right way to roll his hips, to send more pleasure crashing relentlessly through Sam’s body. His own pleasure, for the moment, didn’t matter. It was building slowly, but inevitably, and he was more focused on making sure that this was good for Sam.

  Not that Sam seemed to be interested in complaining much. He was in control, his whole body rocking on Gunner, taking him deep over and over as he bounced on Gunner’s lap.

  Not very long after, Sam’s body started to thrash on top of Gunner, his movements less measured, more wild, as he gave in to the demands of his body. It was quite something to see, not to mention feel, as Sam’s lovely body started to glisten with sweat, his body shoving down relentlessly onto Gunner’s cock.

  He had Sam writhing for him, and it was too much for Gunner. He didn’t even mean for it to happen when it did. He usually liked to wait until his partner had come before he did. But Sam was too good, and helpless against the force of the raging inferno inside of him, Gunner cried out Sam’s name as he spilled inside of the condom.

  Luckily for his ego, it wasn’t long until he felt the spurt of hot, fresh cum, spattering over his shirt, the musky scent of their joining filling the car. What would Mike think about this particular use of the car, Gunner wondered idly. Not that it mattered, because he would never know.

  “Gunner,” Sam murmured, his eyes partially hidden by the haze of satisfied hunger in them. “Gunner, I think I …”

  A brief surge of panic cleared Gunner’s mind, and he knew that he couldn’t let Sam say those words. Gunner had heard them said before, and no one that had said them had ever meant them. His heart couldn’t handle hearing them again.

  Desperate to stop them, Gunner, still locked in the tight, hot embrace of Sam’s body, pulled Sam down to him. He kissed him, stealing his words with his tongue, but the truth was in the very secret, innermost areas of his mind, or maybe his heart, where he never allowed anyone else to go, he was saying the same words back.

  FIFTEEN

  Well, that plan had gone nicely. Sam had been carrying around that condom and that lube, waiting for a chance just such as this, and he didn’t regret it. That was the really miraculous thing, that not even for a moment could he make himself wish that he hadn’t given Gunner this thing.

  It felt so right, too. Sam had always assumed that letting someone fuck him would be this sense of great loss, but nothing could be further from the truth. Better yet, there would always be this link between them, and Sam knew that he couldn’t have picked a better person to have his first time with.

  For a moment, they just kissed, and then Sam, aching with the unaccustomed things he’d done with his body, winced slightly as he pulled off of the other man. It felt like they really belonged to each other now, and Sam, despite his soreness, couldn’t help but grin as he took care of the condom and then fell back into his own seat, panting and sweating as he grinned over at Gunner.

  “When we get home,” Sam admitted, “I want to have you.” He had definitely enjoyed having Gunner inside of him, but that didn’t mean that he was going to give up topping. He couldn’t necessarily say which one he liked more.

  Gunner smirked as he pulled his clothing into place while Sam did the same. Car sex was fun, but logistically it was a little bit more complicated. Not that Sam was complaining in the slightest.

  “Then we’d better get this little lady back to her home, so I can see you home,” Gunner purred, and Sam had always found it a bit weird how mechanically inclined people called vehicles by the feminine pronoun, but that didn’t seem to be exactly the most important thing.

  Actually, he’d always found it a bit stupid. A car was not sentient. But from Gunner, it was actually sort of endearing.

  “Hurry,” Sam murmured back because he felt like they’d really just gotten started. Once he and Gunner got going, Sam had noticed that they tended just to keep going. With brief breaks, they could go over and over again, halfway through the night.

  Luckily, Gunner did hurry. Gravel crunched under their tires as Gunner turned them around, then got them headed back to town, and pushed the gas pedal all the way down, the engine roaring as if with delight, a wild animal finally freed to run.

  A truck, a big eighteen wheeler, came rumbling up behind them, and Gunner slowed just a little to let it pass. The rig was doing at least twenty above the speed limit, and Sam watched it go.

  “I’ve never seen a truck go that fast,” he commented, wincing at the wind that came from the truck passing them. Dirt and dust swirled around them, kicked up by those huge, churning wheels, and Sam frowned.

  “We’re going to have to wash the car …” he started, and then there was the worst sound that Sam had heard, maybe in his whole life. It wasn’t really all that loud of a sound, but it was sharp and cruel, cutting through the rumble of the engine with no effort at all.

  The rock wasn’t really that much bigger than a pebble, smaller around than a quarter, but the thunk it made echoed through Sam’s brain. It skittered over the windshield, scratching as it went, and there was a screech of tires as Gunner brought the car to a halt by the side of the road once more.

  “Shit,” Gunner commented, and Sam was inclined to agree with him. They both got out of the car to look at the damage, and a sick, sinking feeling settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach, making his whole body feel like it had been changed into lead for how heavy his arms and legs suddenly felt.

  It was bad. Really bad. The rock, small as it was, had impacted hard enough that there was a dent in the glass of the windshield, and a spiderweb of cracks radiated out from the impact point. One of the cracks went halfway across the glass, and Sam reeled.

  “Gunner, Mike’s going to kill us.”

  It was
a big enough deal that Mike had let Gunner touch his baby. When he saw this, Mike was going to freak out. Would he fire Gunner? Sam, too, for being there when this happened?

  If they had been going slower, couldn’t this have been prevented? Sam wasn’t sure, but he did know that if Gunner hadn’t had this bright idea in the first place…

  “There’s nothing we can do here,” Gunner pointed out, logically enough, Sam supposed, but Sam still shot him a look. The guy wasn’t panicking nearly enough, not for Sam’s peace of mind. Didn’t he realize what had just happened here? What he’d done?

  Probably not. After all, Gunner was the motorcycle-riding bad boy, and though Sam had been so sure that Gunner cared about him, that there was more to Gunner than leather and an attitude, maybe that had just been wishful thinking.

  Suddenly, Sam couldn’t help but remember how Gunner had kissed him moments before Sam had said those three big words. He hadn’t wanted to hear it. Silently, Sam went back to the car, and his legs gave out under him as he fell into the seat.

  Gunner hadn’t wanted to hear it, because he didn’t feel the same. Did Gunner care about anything? Other than his stupid motorcycle?

  Once more, silence fell between them as they drove back into town. This time, though, it was a silence of dread, uneasy and awkward, settling between them like a blanket of cactus needles.

  * * *

  Never, not in a million years of trying, not if he drank until he couldn’t see straight, would Sam forget the look on Mike’s face when he walked into the shop later that night.

  Gunner would have just texted Mike and then gone home if Sam had let him. Just one more sign that Gunner didn’t care about Mike, or about other people’s belongings. Or their hearts, Sam was becoming pretty sure about that.

  It was tempting just to go home, go to bed. Deal with it later. But Mike was always at work first thing, and Sam couldn’t even begin to think about what the guy would feel like if he saw the car that meant everything to him in such a bad state.

  Now, looking at Mike, seeing the paleness of his skin, the way his eyes skimmed over his pride and joy, Sam sort of thought maybe Gunner had had the right idea, actually. Dealing with this would have been a lot easier with some sleep. Still, it was the right thing to do, he supposed, even if it was unpleasant.

  “Damn it,” Mike growled, and he turned his glare not only on Gunner but also on Sam, which felt more than a little unfair. Sam, after all, hadn’t been the one to borrow the car. Or to get it all dusty and damaged. And Sam had done the right thing by calling Mike, which was, he supposed, why he was getting blamed for it now.

  “Look, we’ll replace the windshield,” Sam promised, trying to defuse the situation, but maybe that was a lost cause because Mike just glared at him more viciously than ever.

  “Damn straight, you will. And you’re gonna fix her up ‘til she shines, you hear me?” Mike’s arms were crossed defensively over his chest, and his gaze skipped back and forth between them, restless, as though not sure which one of them to blame more.

  “It wasn’t our fault, you know,” Gunner spoke up, and Sam shot him a dirty look. This really wasn’t the time or place, but Gunner had a defensive look on his face and his arms as firmly crossed over his chest as Mike did. “That truck came out of nowhere. I didn’t get a rock to the windshield on purpose.”

  “You’re still gonna replace it,” Mike replied grimly. “The car was in your hands when it got damaged. It’s your responsibility to make sure it’s repaired.”

  Gunner set his jaw and looked stubborn, and Sam pinched him surreptitiously on his arm. That earned him a bit of a dirty look, but at least Gunner shut his mouth. This whole situation didn’t need to be made much worse. It was already bad enough as it was.

  “Yeah, fine, we’ll replace it, no problem,” Sam spoke hastily and then regretted it when he felt Mike’s eyes settle on him.

  “You stay the fuck out of this, boy,” Mike snarled, and that temper, which Sam noticed Mike had been barely restraining, all flooded out of him all at once as the dam which had been barely holding it back shattered into a million pieces. “The grown-ups are talking.”

  And at that moment, Sam realized something that he really should have noticed before. Mike didn’t seem him as one of the grown-ups. Why he’d given Sam a job, he had no idea, but it wasn’t because he thought that Sam could do the job. Gunner, he spoke to as an equal, albeit one that he was angry with, but Sam may as well still be a child.

  “Fix it,” Mike growled, turning away from Sam like he didn’t matter at all and fixing his intense gaze on Gunner. The responsibility was put on Gunner, and why not? He probably didn’t think that Sam could handle it, no matter that Sam had learned how to replace a windshield already.

  With that, Mike turned on his heel and was gone, with one more burning look at both of them. Sam staggered and had to lean against the counter to keep himself from falling over. How was this fair? Any of this? Gunner messed up, and Sam had to pay for it?

  Gunner turned to look at him, and Sam returned his gaze, hurt and anger simmering in the air between them.

  “Do you even care? You might have gotten me fired,” Sam snapped, though he knew that it wasn’t entirely fair. He had gone along with Gunner, which was his own bad judgment, and Mike had allowed Gunner to take the car, which was his.

  Still, Sam knew what happened when he allowed himself to get caught up in boys who refused to grow up, who lived their lives recklessly. He knew. So why had he allowed himself to hook up with this man who was nothing but bad news?

  Gunner opened his mouth and then frowned as the jangling ring of a cell phone split the air. Irritation on his handsome face, Gunner glanced down, and then his face went still and cold, the only sign of life anywhere on his features was in the depths of his brilliant hazel eyes, which seemed to burn golden.

  “Sorry, I have to take this,” Gunner apologized, though it seemed a perfunctory thing—like he didn’t actually mean it, like he didn’t actually care that this thing had happened.

  With just those few words, Gunner turned and followed Mike out, already pressing on the screen to accept the call.

  “Yeah, man, what’s up?” he asked, and to Sam, he sounded casual. Too casual, like a man who is trying far too hard to seem normal. Maybe most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Sam had picked up that Gunner wanted to seem that way.

  Or was it just that the guy didn’t care? Had Sam wanted so badly to see something that just wasn’t there, because of his own feelings for this man? He wouldn’t have thought so, but that was before all of this stuff had gone down.

  Maybe he didn’t know Gunner as well as he would have thought. He had thought that Gunner was someone who might give a damn and just hide it as best he could. Someone more like Sam, deep down at the very base of their beings where it really counted.

  Sighing softly, Sam got out the cleaning supplies, the special ones which he knew that Mike used on the Jag. He might as well get a head start on fixing the mess that Gunner had made. So he started to clean off the metal, making it gleam again, all the while trying to deny to himself what he was doing.

  Waiting. Waiting for Gunner to come back, waiting for an apology for getting Sam into this mess. Waiting for things that he was pretty sure would never come. As Sam wiped and polished, the silver came back to the chrome tires, and it was a huge relief when he saw that there were no scratches, no scuff marks.

  The windshield was bad enough, but even Sam knew that it could have been much, much worse. Bodywork on a car like this would have been thousands of dollars. A new windshield wouldn’t be exactly cheap, and Sam knew that, but still.

  Sam kept himself busy, but it still felt like a hundred years until Gunner came back into the shop. It was actually getting to the point where Sam was wondering if Gunner had just taken off on him. Gunner didn’t have a car, but he did have two working legs and feet.

  Finally, though, Gunner did come in, and there was something strange about him, some
thing that Sam couldn’t quite put his finger on. Worry? Sadness? Anger? There was something, just a tenseness around the edges of his eyes, but Sam couldn’t be quite sure that he saw it at all.

  “Who was that on the phone?” Sam asked, going for casual but not entirely sure that he managed to pull it off. Whoever it was, it had been important enough for Gunner to blow off this conversation for, though, and he thought he was within his rights to be curious.

  Gunner turned to look at him, and the tension around his eyes faded, a smile coming to his lips. He walked over to Sam, lightly touching his face, and even with all of the anger and uncertainty in him, Sam found it hard not to press toward that sweet, gentle touch.

  “No one important,” Gunner’s voice was light and carefree, as it so often was. If not for how closely Sam was looking at him, he probably would have believed that it really was nothing important, no big deal.

  “Gunner …” Sam started, and then Gunner’s lips were on his, harder than they ever had been before, almost crushing against Sam’s. In an instant, his breath was stolen. The kiss which had come out of nowhere robbed him of any coherent thoughts, the fury, the frenzy, of it radiating through his body and making it impossible to think of anything else.

  At the moment, Sam had no idea where that had come from. Why Gunner had kissed him like that. But he did remember his own body’s needs, how he and Gunner had planned to continue what they had only just started while they were in the car.

  In one swift, eager motion, Gunner’s strong arms were around Sam, his hands on his ass, hauling him against himself until their bodies were flush against each other. Even with things as strained as they were, it was so easy to just melt into Gunner’s hot, strong body, to let himself be kissed, his body aroused until nothing else mattered.

  Only that wasn’t quite true that nothing else mattered. The things that had happened that night wouldn’t be forgotten, and maybe they never really could be. What was happening was nothing more than a distraction.