by R. Cayden
So why was I walking down the street, heading toward the park with Gunner?
“You ever have a date in the park?” he asked.
I kept pace beside him, my loafers clicking on the pavement. He kept saying that word, date. I always thought of dates as things you scheduled ahead of time, like a fancy dinner you arrived at with a bouquet of flowers. Maybe for Gunner, though, dates had more to do with grabbing random men and dragging them into dive bars. “No, I never have gone on a date in the park. Have you?”
“I’ve made some memories there, yeah.”
He turned at me and winked after he said it, and I realized what he meant.
Oh god. I was definitely in over my head.
We arrived to the park at the bottom of the hill, and Gunner paused, rummaging around in his jacket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. When he flicked a lighter and started smoking, I turned to the trees to hide my frown. Even if he were open to hearing my anti-smoking argument, I was pretty sure it would bring the whole weird afternoon to a screeching halt.
The park itself was gorgeous. It wasn’t too large, probably the size of a couple of city blocks, but it was filled with pine trees, hardy shrubs, and winding paths. I imagined it would be easy to slip away into the nature, which made me anxious all over again.
What was Gunner planning to do, once he got me back there? Did he think I would actually have a date-date with him in the middle of the park? Maybe he’d lead me back into some cluster of trees, get me hot and bothered, and then laugh in my face and run away?
By the time I turned back to him, I was feeling so flustered I had to unbutton my collar. With the cigarette dangling between his fingers and a small trail of smoke rising into the air, however, Gunner looked just as cool as ever.
And just as ready to devour me whole.
“Don’t stop there,” he teased. “Unbutton the whole thing.”
I started blushing even harder. It was like his eyes were touching every part of my body, roaming over my skin and exploring every tender spot while I quivered in front of him. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of me,” I objected, doing my best not to stammer. “But if you’re imagining I’m going to walk back into that park and take my clothes off in public, you’ve got another thing coming. That’s gross, and perverted, and just—”
“What if I dare you again?”
“What?”
He stepped closer, still grinning, and leaned in until his mouth was inches from my ear. “You always say yes when I dare you,” he whispered. The tickle of his breath almost made me gasp, and my cock stiffened in response.
I turned to meet his eyes. “No way,” I said as flatly as I could.
Please, I thought. Please dare me.
Gunner turned on his heel and strutted into the park, forcing me to hurry to keep up. “What are you so scared of?” he asked over his shoulder. “It’s just a little walk in the park. You worried about disappointing your mom or something, getting seen with a guy like me?”
The answer was yes, actually, although I didn’t say it. At twenty-five, I didn’t technically answer to my parents anymore, but they still had a firm grip on my life. My mother was an archivist at the Museum of History and Industry, and my father was an accomplished historian, and I definitely took after them. They lived a well-ordered life with a home that was kept immaculate, a schedule that was busy and productive, and a devotion to their careers that came before anything else. My parents had always taught me that proper behavior mattered most, and I had always heeded their lessons, dressing in the clothes that they deemed appropriate and asking a nice, polite gentleman to prom and even attending the college they decided was most advantageous. From my career to my fashion, my parents had shaped every part of my life.
And their expectations did not include me running around with some rough guy who threw his cigarette butts on the ground.
“I’m not scared of disappointing my parents,” I lied.
He spun on his heel, walking backward for a moment to look me in the eye and shoot me another cocky grin. “What is it, then? Your reputation at the library? Are the other bookworms quick to disapprove?”
He was teasing me. I had been teased so often in my life, but there was something different about this. It wasn’t like the guys in high school, mocking me because I refused to say any swear words. And it wasn’t like the kids in my neighborhood, making fun of me when everyone else broke curfew to play flashlight tag and I went to hide in my bedroom instead. It felt different, like he was teasing me because he liked me, or because he wanted to get something from me.
“No one at the library is going to judge me for walking through the park,” I said defensively. “You don’t look that tough.”
Gunner jumped in the air suddenly, grabbing a low-hanging tree branch and swinging his legs back and forth. “So you think I look tough?”
I almost laughed despite myself. Swinging through the air, I had a whole new view of the way his jeans clung to his body. With his package right at eye level, I had to avert my eyes to avoid staring at his substantial bulge.
“Something like that,” I muttered. He kept swinging and staring at me, and I worked up a little gumption to push back. “Anyway, aren’t you worried about some meatheads from your job catching you wandering through the park with a gay nerd?”
Gunner let go of the branch, launching forward and landing only a few inches in front of me in a squat. When he rose back to full height, I was reminded of how much taller he was than me, and I felt a whole new wave of desire.
“If any of the guys at work got a problem with me, they know enough to keep their damn mouths shut.”
I realized we had found our way to a small clearing in the park, tucked between some particularly large pine trees off the main path. We were hidden in the shadows, and as Gunner took a few casual steps further off the path, I knew that this was the spot he had been leading me to the whole time.
Damn it, but I wanted to take him up on every offer he was making with that arrogant grin and those teasing questions. I wanted to push through my anxiety and let him play me like a fiddle, right there in the middle of the park. It sounded so freeing, and so sexy, too. I didn’t even know what he would have planned; I just knew that it would send me reeling and spinning.
I wanted Gunner so bad I could taste him on my lips already, but then the risks started filling my mind. One sure way to end your career as a children’s librarian was to get caught having sex in a public park. I could only imagine the phone call I would have to make to my parents after that. Your only child is a pervert. Can you please post bail?
Gunner leaned up against a tree, and when he folded his arms over his chest, his leather jacket made a weird creaking noise. “Come on, Malcolm,” he teased. “Impress me.”
“Impress you?”
“Yeah, impress me. Do something unexpected. Do something that’s going to show me you’re not so scared after all.”
I swallowed. The words Malcolm and unexpected didn’t really go together, but Gunner wasn’t aware of that.
So then I did the only thing I could think to do. I took a few steps forward, joining Gunner by the tree. He bit down on his bottom lip as I approached, staring at me almost like he was admiring me, like he was surprised by my actions. Our bodies a few inches apart, I could feel the heat coming off of him. He smelled like dirt and metal, and my cock grew harder when the scent filled my nose.
“Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm,” he whispered.
I reached into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. I nearly fumbled it but managed to pull out a business card instead. Malcolm Crane: Children’s Librarian. I leaned forward and shoved it into the breast pocket of Gunner’s jacket.
He blinked. “What’s this?”
“My card,” I answered. “So you can call me.”
He stared at me for a second, then erupted into laughter. It sounded happy instead of mean, but my cheeks still burned from embarrassment. Once he finally re
covered, he wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Fuck, Malcolm. You’re almost too much.”
“What?” I asked. “What’s so funny about that?”
He shook his head. “Nothing funny,” he answered, pushing off from the tree and placing his body right up close to mine again. “Just very, very tempting,” he whispered in my ear.
He started to walk away, and I almost choked on my words trying to stop him. “What? That’s it? You’re dragging me back here and then running away because I gave you a business card?” I felt deflated, all the nervous energy that had built up dispersing at once.
Gunner stopped, then pivoted back to me. “I got your number, don’t I?”
“Does that mean you’re going to call me?”
He shrugged, his palms pointed toward the sky. “Hard to say.”
I sighed. “God, Gunner, you’re really frustrating! You know that?”
He grinned again, totally unfazed. “Yeah, that’s what I hear.” For a second, we stood in the clearing, the shade of the trees casting intricate shadows over us. He gave me another look up and down, like he was inspecting me, and then stepped forward. All my muscles tensed, my anxiety pulsing, and then he did the last thing in the world I would have expected.
He kissed me.
He kissed me softly and tenderly. He brushed his lips against mine and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, and, at the exact right moment, he bit down on my bottom lip, just hard enough.
I moaned, and for one glorious second, the entire world seemed to disappear.
Then he released my lip and turned to walk away.
“Better watch yourself, Malcolm,” he called over his shoulder. “Next thing you know, I might actually try to take you on a proper date.”
Chapter Five
Maddox
I woke up groaning, a headache splitting my brain open. Bright light sliced through the blinds, and my mouth was cotton-dry.
“What the fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.
“Morning, sunshine,” Declan growled from beside on the bed.
I startled, jolting up and staring at him. His naked body was spread out on the mattress, and with Declan lying face-down, there wasn’t more than a corner of the sheet covering his muscled ass.
“Hold the fuck on,” I muttered. “We didn’t…”
He barked a laugh, turning on his side without bothering to cover himself properly with the sheet.
I guess some things never change…
“Absolutely fucking not,” he answered, scratching his balls. “But Princess Maddox over here said the couch was uncomfortable.”
I squinted my eyes and rubbed my thumbs against my temples. “With how much tequila you convinced me to swallow, I’m surprised I noticed.”
“To be fair, it’s a pretty shitty couch,” he said.
I chuckled, then noticed the glass of water by the bed and bolted it. “The last thing I remember is you egging me on at the blackjack table.” I kept squinting. “And maybe there was someone dressed as a gladiator there, too. Is that right?”
“You came out a couple of hundred dollars ahead,” Declan answered. “I’m just surprised you didn’t fuck the gladiator.”
“Why was he—”
“Vegas, man,” Declan said, cutting me off. “You learn to just roll with it.”
“What happened after that?”
“Not much. I dragged you around the casino a little more and tried you to get you onto the dance floor at the club my buddy runs. Then we came home and finished off the tequila and traded stories about Seattle until you were ready to pass out.”
“I would have enjoyed that part,” I said, swinging my legs off the bed. My boxers were bunched up sideways, and I saw in the mirror that my hair was sticking out at every angle. “I never see anyone from the old life these days.”
Declan stood up, his cock swinging back and forth as he walked over to his dresser and tugged on a pair of boxer briefs. “One day you’re the hottest top in Seattle. The next you’re telling stories on the couch. I’m just sad I couldn’t convince you to stick around a little longer.”
“Not this time, man.”
“Is it a house you’re rushing to get back to or a monastery?” he asked, walking toward the kitchen.
I followed, eager to pour some coffee down my throat. “It’s the same place you remember,” I said. “Except that I added a welding studio in the back.”
Declan grabbed a carton of eggs on the fridge and flicked on the stove. “Tell me this, though. When’s the last time you brought a guy home to that place?”
I thought about it carefully. “Longer than I’ll admit to.”
“When’s the last time you tied anyone up or got your kinky kicks on?”
The eggs sizzled when he cracked them into the pan. “Same answer,” I finally said. “But having my ex-boyfriend lecture me about it isn’t going to change the situation.”
Declan leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Man, when you moved into that house, I thought you were going to have guys coming and going every damn night.” He frowned, staring me up and down. “You sure you’re getting what you need up there, Maddox?”
I remembered the dreams we used to have for that house. My family had held the property for years, but when I turned eighteen, my father decided to put it in my name to avoid some taxes. It was a luxury cabin, tucked up in the mountains outside of the city, and located within a sprawling gated community. Every property there was used as a vacation home by wealthy people living in Seattle, which meant the mountain tended to be deserted unless it was a summer weekend.
I didn’t spend much time there when I was still connected to my family, but when my father finally disowned me altogether after a particularly destructive streak, it became my home base. I kept running amok for a few years after that, but soon enough, the last job I ran with Declan jolted me to my senses. These days, the welding studio let me pull in a little money, and I spent my days playing around with my machines and making metal sculptures that filled my backyard.
I might have barely ever left the house, but it was better than waving guns in the air and risking my neck every other day, that was for damn certain.
“I’m getting peace and quiet,” I said, rummaging in his cupboard for coffee. “That’s what I need for now.”
“Suit yourself. I just never thought I’d see the day.”
I noticed the clock, ticking above the sink. “Fuck,” I said. “It’s already two in the afternoon.”
“That early?”
“I should hit the road after breakfast,” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth, a fresh jolt of pain shot through my skull. “Fuck!” I groaned again, grabbing my temples.
Declan reached into the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of aspirin and shaking a few out for me. “You know you’re welcome to stay here,” he said.
I nodded, then leaned back against the counter again. “Thanks, yeah. Maybe it’s going to take me a little longer to make it back home than I expected.”
Even with a bitch of a hangover, though, I couldn’t deny one feeling that was itching at the back of my skull like a damn bug.
I wanted to take Declan up on his offer. It was a bad idea, and I was finally smart enough to turn it down, but that didn’t mean the desire wasn’t still flaming inside of me. I wanted to take another swipe at my family just as bad as I ever did, and the part of my brain that was addicted to cheap thrills and big risks was desperate for another release.
Guys like me might retire, but we never truly quit. There’s always a rebel inside, a wolf snarling to get out and howl at the moon.
There’s always another chance to fuck it up.
Chapter Six
Malcolm
Like nearly every day, I woke up to the sound of banging and crashing outside my window. Groaning, I pulled a pillow over my face. Without looking at the clock, I already knew it was six o’clock on the dot. A crew of burly men had bee
n resurfacing the brick exterior, inching closer to my window on the top floor every day.
Rolling out of bed, I went straight into my routine, eager to get out of the apartment for the day and away from all the noise. I rolled out my yoga mat and stretched for ten minutes, then grabbed a fresh white towel on my way to the bathroom. With the shower radio playing the morning news, I worked down the row of cleansers on my shelf, taking a minute to wipe down the surfaces when I was done. After a careful shave and some moisturizer, I wrapped the towel around my waist and treated myself to a bowl of granola and an espresso shot in the kitchen.
Flipping through the pressed shirts in my closet, I picked out a fitted linen button-up with pink and green stripes and a light purple sweater to go over it. Tucked into my slacks, it made me look professional enough for the library without seeming too fancy. The bright colors were good for the kids, too. Ignoring the headache that was forming from the repetitive banging out my window, I polished my shoes and headed out the door.
As soon as I got down the block, I started to feel better. The walk to the library was beautiful, passing through quiet residential streets, and I enjoyed it even on rainy Seattle days. I was going to hate moving out of the neighborhood, but the more I struggled to find a good option, the more it seemed inevitable.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed my parents, hoping to catch them at home before their own workdays started. We usually checked in with each other every couple of days, but after meeting Gunner, I had been so flustered I missed my chance a couple of days earlier.
“Malcolm,” my mother answered. “Nice to finally hear back from you.” She already sounded distracted, and I could just picture the full cup of coffee, daily schedule, and newspaper that were spread across the kitchen table in front of her.
“Sorry I couldn’t return your call yesterday, Mother,” I answered. “How are you doing?”
“Quite fine. We wrapped up the preparations for the new exhibition yesterday. I trust you’ll still be coming by for dinner this Sunday? I can tell you all about it then.”
