Guns Leather and Tinsel

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by Sean Michael




  Table of Contents

  Guns, Leather and Tinsel

  Guns, Leather and Tinsel Copyright © 2014, Sean Michael

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Dear Readers,

  Also Available from Resplendence Publishing

  www.ResplendencePublishing.com

  Guns, Leather and Tinsel

  By Sean Michael

  Resplendence Publishing

  R·>♦<·P

  www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Gems of Romantic Fiction

  Guns, Leather and Tinsel

  Copyright © 2014, Sean Michael

  Edited by Liza Green and CJ Slate

  Cover Art by Les Byerley

  Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  1093 A1A Beach Blvd, #146

  St. Augustine, FL 32080

  Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-839-8

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Electronic Release: December 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Undercover cop Brian “Boom” Simpson is working the week before Christmas so the guys with families don’t have to. He’s on the hunt for a motorcycle club that’s running guns. His work leads him to The Rusty Tailpipe, a biker bar just outside of town where the Bloody Sundays hang out.

  Raptor Evans, owner of The Rusty Tailpipe, loves his life. He owns a bit of land, and his bar, where he doesn’t put up with any trouble, running a tight ship with the help of his trusty baseball bat. When Boom comes walking in, the drool worthy stud turns Raptor’s world upside down, in more ways than one.

  Can Boom and Raptor’s fledgling relationship survive Boom’s job, the Bloody Sundays, gunrunners, and Christmas?

  Happy Holidays to all my readers.

  Chapter One

  “Damn it, y’all! You fucking break it up!” Fuck, Saturday nights were fun. Raptor Evans grabbed a baseball bat in one hand and a tire iron in the other and pushed through the counter hatch to wage a little war. The Black Sundays were a one-percenter, always causing issues, and Raptor was not having that shit in his club. Especially in the week leading up to Christmas.

  No how. No way.

  He did his dead-level best not to interfere with club politics, because that led to drama and unnecessary horseshit, but no one—no one—fucked with his bar or his bartenders.

  His bat hit the bar first in warning, then caught Ricky Dean in the ribs. “I said!”

  Bang.

  “Break.”

  Thwack.

  “It.”

  Thud.

  “Up!”

  Okay, that last one made his hand hurt some.

  Little Bonnie gave him a quick grin and slipped back behind the bar. “Thanks, Boss.”

  “Anytime, baby girl.” He passed the tire iron to Bonnie to set on the shelf beneath the cash, but held onto the bat for now, just in case.

  She looked toward the door and whistled low. “Check out the new meat.”

  The guy who’d just entered was head to toe in leather, muscles stretching the limits of the jacket he wore. Raptor tried not to drool.

  “Fucking giant. He’d tear your teeny ass up, baby girl.”

  “That’d be more your style, wouldn’t it?” She cackled at herself.

  “Bitch.” He swatted her with the towel he kept tucked in the waistband of his pants.

  Mr. Hot ‘n Studly in Leather came over to the bar and sat down, raising an eyebrow at Raptor’s bat.

  “Sorry.” Raptor said. “Crowd control. Beer?” Blow job?

  “Sure. Whatever dark ale you’ve got on tap.”

  Oh, damn, the voice matched the man. Yummy.

  “Sure.” Raptor pulled a Cabbie, let it cascade before handing it over. “Five bucks.”

  The bill was handed over, the guy had amazing hands. Big, a few calluses, long fingers. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Raptor did his best to hide a lingering look then did his thing, pouring beer and making drinks, changing kegs. Normal shit for a weekend.

  Studly nursed his beer.

  Another skirmish broke out, one of the guys throwing a beer at the band. Raptor growled and called out a warning. “I’ll ban your skanky ass!”

  “Rowdy crowd,” noted Studly.

  “Saturday night. Gotta love it. New in town?” He was pleased for an excuse to spend more time looking at all those muscles in all that leather.

  “Yep.”

  Laconic bastard.

  Raptor understood about not sharing a lot of personal info, though. So he wasn’t perturbed. “Cool. You need another?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Another two fives were handed over. “Keep the change.”

  It might have been his imagination, but Raptor thought Studly was actually checking him out.

  “Thanks man. You rock.” If nothing else, the dude was fine jack off material.

  “I try.” He was given a wink, then Studly turned on his stool to look at the bar, checking everyone out.

  Raptor took the hint and got back to work, keeping an eye on the bar, on the pool tables, making drinks and bopping his head to the music playing from the jukebox.

  Studly was still there as things wound down, still nursing that second beer.

  “You doing okay, man?” Raptor asked.

  Studly nodded. “I’m good.”

  “Cool.” He started his late night routine, keeping an eye on everyone.

  People began filtering out after last call when they lowered the music, and turned the lights up.

  Studly stood, stretched. The man looked utterly fantastic. Raptor told himself to stop drooling. It was a natural reaction, though, he was built himself, but that big bastard could tear him up.

  Catching his eye, Studly leaned in a bit. “You know where I can crash for a night or two?”

  “You traveling?” Come home with me, man. I’ll turn you inside out. Or get you to tear my ass up.

  “At the moment, yeah. Looking for a place to land.”

  “There’s a motel down the road, but it’s a wreck.”

  “You know somewhere better?” Blue, blue eyes met his.

  Raptor didn’t invite guys over to his place. Never. But dude, it was almost fucking Christmas. “I might be able to find a place. Give me a second.”

  “Awesome.” Studly sat down again.

  Raptor didn’t even know the guy’s name.

  Chapter Two

  Brian sat, watching the bar-back go through his closing routine. The little hot mama who’d been behind the bar with him had gone home about an hour ago. The guy was built just how he Brian liked them - tall and muscled. Enough to be a fucking good handful.

  That wasn’t his job, though. He was here to sniff out the guns. Rumor had it the Black Sundays were moving them through the state and beyond. He’d volunteered for the job this time around—he was one of the guys without a wife or kids and with Christmas right around the corner, that made him one of the few who didn’t have a
family to go home to.

  He shifted, his leather jacket creaking. He wasn’t wearing any patches, just all black. That way no one could affiliate him with any club, recognized or not. He liked flying below the radar.

  The bar emptied out while he sat there until it was just him and the bar-back with the fucking stunning ass. The guy was gorgeous-long black hair, a hooked nose and skin like coffee with cream. Brian wanted a piece of him. Big time.

  He waited until just the Christmas lights were left on, then asked, “What’s your name, dude?”

  “Raptor. You?”

  “Boom.” He never introduced himself as Brian, not while he was on the job. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Yeah. Same with you.” Raptor stretched up tall to put a bottle back, jeans painted on that fine ass and those skinny legs.

  Brian licked his lips. “Uh-huh.”

  The ridge of the long cock beneath Raptor’s jeans was firm, stiff. Fuck. Brian was going to get into trouble here. Big fucking trouble.

  “You want a cup of coffee, man?” Raptor asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Cool. I’ll make a pot. Where you traveling from?”

  “Little bit of everywhere.” He didn’t want to lie to this man, but he couldn’t really be honest, either. This guy could be one of the men he was after, for all he knew. His instincts were saying no, so was his cock. But maybe it was overruling his usual judgement of character.

  “I’m from outside of Dallas, originally,” Raptor volunteered. “Been out here a long time, though.”

  “Yeah? You like it better than Dallas?”

  “I like it fine. Sometimes the snow gets a little much, but what are you going to do?”

  “Hibernate?” Brian suggested.

  “There you go.”

  “You know it.” He looked Raptor right in the eye.

  There was no denying the electricity between them, the spark of heat that made Raptor’s pupils dilate. His own hands clenched to keep them from making a reach for Raptor. If Brian got his hands on Raptor and he’d fuck the guy right over the bar.

  God, that’s what he needed, to bend this sweet ass over and drill that tiny hole until Raptor screamed. He found himself licking his lips again and making this growling noise in the back of his throat. He swore he could see Raptor’s nipples tightening and there was no question that cock was interested.

  “How far is it to your place?” And could they skip the coffee and go fuck their brains out now?

  “Mile and a half from here, up in the woods.” A wet spot formed on Raptor’s jeans.

  “Nice and private. If you want to make it there, you’d better lead the way.”

  “I gotta lock up.”

  “Go for it.” He wasn’t going to object to watching that muscled body moving around the place. He could imagine it bound, plugged, wearing his marks. Stop it. Stop. It. A quick fuck was one thing. That was something else entirely.

  Still, making Raptor wear his plug at work. Fuck.

  Brian’s zipper was going to fucking slice into his cock he was so damn hard.

  Raptor started turning lights off, ass rocking side to side. He didn’t want to fucking wait, god damn it. He watched Raptor get everything turned off and locked. By the time Raptor moved to the front door, Brian had stood and was right there to push Raptor up against the door. He pressed up against the man’s ass.

  “Not fucking waiting another second.”

  “What the fuck?” The words were an argument, but that ass grinding into his prick wasn’t. Not at all.

  “Gonna fucking ream your tight little ass.”

  “You’re gonna try.”

  Oh, someone else liked to play.

  “You fucking know it.” Brian slid his hands down to Raptor’s waist, began working the tight jeans open as he kept Raptor against the wall with the strength of his body.

  “Fucker. I don’t bottom.”

  Little liar. No way someone wasn’t tapping that tiny ass.

  “Bull-fucking-shit.” He got the top button undone and used his hand to make sure Raptor’s hard, leaking prick didn’t get damaged as he pulled down the zipper. Needy fucking slut. That sweet prick pushed toward his hand, begging for it. Commando. He wasn’t surprised as fucking tight as these jeans were.

  He began stroking, feeling the hard length as it moved along his palm. He groaned as he found the ring embedded in the tip. Fuck. He tugged on it. Raptor groaned, with up on tiptoe for him.

  “Beautiful fucking slut.” He stroked from base to tip, pulling on the ring again.

  “Harder. Fuck. Harder.”

  Didn’t bottom, his ass.

  Brian used his free hand to tug at the painted on jeans. He got the sweet ass bared, then smacked it once, just to test. Raptor growled low, bucked against him.

  “Oh yeah.” Tearing into his own pants was not easy, the leather trying to fight hm. He got himself out, though.

  His cock poked out, framed by the black leather, and he rubbed against Raptor’s ass. Thank fuck he always carried condoms with him. He dug one out of his pocket, using his teeth to open it up.

  “Boy scout.” Raptor groaned, wiggling and rocking, always in motion.

  He snorted. “You’re fucking lucky I am.” He got the rubber on his cock and spit on his fingers.

  Raptor growled at him, hands flattened against the door.

  “You wanna tell me again how you don’t want this?” He worked one of his fingers into Raptor’s ass. Oh, fuck. Tight. Sweet. Yummy. And not another word of protest from Raptor.

  Brian couldn’t wait to work his prick into Raptor’s tight ass. He pushed another finger in, grateful he’d picked up the lubricated condoms. Fuck, Raptor was tight, squeezing him. He couldn’t wait to get his fucking cock in there.

  He didn’t bother with more prep. He spread Raptor wide with his thumbs, cock demanding entrance. He pushed in, Raptor so fucking hot around his prick. He wasn’t slow or gentle, he knew Raptor wouldn’t thank him for it and he simply pushed all the way in.

  Those tight muscles fluttered around his prick, jerking and twitching madly.

  “Fuck, yes.” He pulled out, then thrust in again.

  He grabbed Raptor’s wrists and pulled them up, stretching the man out tall as he sawed in and out. “So fucking tight, baby.”

  “Not your baby.” Raptor’s ass was like a vise, squeezing every inch of his prick.

  Brian just laughed and slammed in again. Then he spread his stance, digging in and pulling Raptor onto him. So fucking good.

  He tugged hard on the ring at the tip of Raptor’s cock. And he’d be goddamned if he didn’t feel that in the tightness of Raptor’s ass, all around his prick. He pulled on the ring again, then twisted it, groaning at the way Raptor’s ass squeezed him both times.

  Fucking A. He wanted to explore - see jewelry and ink - but he needed this more.

  He pumped in harder, Raptor’s body slamming against the door with every thrust he made. That was going to leave bruises. Marks. Brian didn’t mind that at all.

  “Gonna make you come on my cock.” He made it a promise.

  “Fuck off.”

  He did love that bluster. Especially when he was balls deep inside Raptor, his hand gripping the man’s cock. “Tell me how much you love it, baby.”

  Raptor groaned, riding him faster.

  “Tell me how good my cock feels reaming your ass.”

  “Gon’ beat you down.” Raptor moaned, over and over for him.

  “Wanna see you try.” That would be fun as fuck.

  He shifted, changing his angle until he found Raptor’s gland.

  “Fuck…” Oh, yeah. There it was.

  He banged away on it like he was playing the fucking drums. Raptor was like fire around him, burning at his prick. He hadn’t had a good fuck like this in forever. He slammed in, his hips slapping against Raptor’s ass. “Come on, baby. Give it up for me.”

  Raptor cried out, and Brian tugged the ring in the tip of Raptor’s cock un
til heat sprayed over his fingers.

  “Fuck yes.” He banged in a few more times, Raptor’s hole squeezing around him, pulling his orgasm out of him.

  He didn’t let go, he held on, pressing them both against the door. Raptor panted as hard as he did, and their breaths were the only sound.

  It was crazy. Pure crazy. Dangerous. Stupid. And the best fucking sex he’d had in a long time.

  He swatted Raptor’s ass, humming under his breath. Then he pulled out, tying the end off the condom.

  “Trash?”

  “Behind the bar.”

  He gave Raptor’s ass one last smack, then headed for the bar, doing himself back up.

  His leathers were hot and sweaty and he very much wanted to just let everything hang out, have another beer with the tough bartender. He imagined they’d have better luck at this home in the woods, though. More privacy.

  Raptor waited for him by the side door. “Follow me, man. I got beer up at the house.”

  “Fucking perfect.” He went out first, Raptor locking up behind them.

  There were only two bikes left and his was the Harley on the left. Raptor’s was vintage - white with claws painted on.

  “Sweet ride.” He gave a little whistle, let himself admire both man and bike.

  “Yeah. Yeah, she is. I like her. Follow me?”

  “Not to worry, I’ll be on your ass.” At least one more time tonight if Raptor was as big a slut as Brian hoped. Maybe more. Couch. Table. Bed. He was willing and able. Hell, he didn’t even need a flat surface, as he’d more than proved back at the bar.

  Straddling his bike, he followed Raptor out.

  Chapter Three

  What the fucking fuck was he thinking? Letting himself get fucked at the bar? Letting himself bring this guy home? It was stupid. Dangerous. Crazy. Hotter than hell and he’d been so fucking bored.

  There was just something about Boom, too, that made him want to roll over and beg. Stupid, but true. He’d get his own, though. Use Boom up and then they’d go their separate ways.

 

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