Guns n' Boys: Swamp Blood (Book 3) (gay dark mafia erotic romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  Swamp Blood - Book 3

  K.A. Merikan

  Acerbi & Villani ltd.

  *

  Guns n’ Boys book 3

  K.A. Merikan

  — Faking their own death was the easy part. —

  After months of recovering from his injuries, Seth struggles with who he has become. Afloat in a reality he never planned, he tries to find the lost pieces of himself again. Find the purpose, motivation, and strength to get back into shape. He is sick and tired of being a burden for Domenico, who seems to have it all together. When Domenico’s jealousy pushes them into the spotlight of a biker gang with connections to their former mafia family, Seth decides to step up, and make his own decisions, no matter what risks they might entail.

  Domenico Acerbi can’t trust anyone. Nightmares of Seth’s torture are still haunting his dreams, and if he and Seth are to leave the country quietly and disappear off the mafia’s radar, he needs to stay in charge and keep everyone under control. What he doesn’t need is Seth giving him attitude, keeping secrets, and distancing himself for no reason. And as if Domenico didn’t have enough on his plate already, Seth forces him to help some hooker. Being stuck in the swamp with a kid hunted by a bunch of bikers is not Domenico’s idea of laying low.

  POSSIBLE SPOILERS:

  Themes: mafia, homophobia, assassin, organized crime, outlaw bikers, human trafficking, runaway, trust issues

  Genre: Dark, twisted erotic romance / crime thriller

  Erotic content: Explicit gay sex

  Length: ~117,000 words

  WARNING: Adult content. If you are easily offended, this book is not for you.

  ‘Guns n’ Boys’ is a gritty story of extreme violence, offensive language, abuse, and morally ambiguous protagonists. Behind the morbid facade, there is a splash of inappropriate dark humor, and a love story that will crawl under your skin.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living, dead, or undead, events, places or names is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without a permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  Text copyright © 2015 K.A. Merikan

  All Rights Reserved

  http://kamerikan.com

  Editing by Kelly Hartigan (Xterra Web)

  http://editing.xterraweb.com/

  Cover Design by

  Natasha Snow

  http://natashasnow.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Afterword

  About the author

  Other Books by K.A. Merikan

  If Mark were asked for the definition of ‘dive bar’ he’d just describe Chuck’s Bar & Grill. He’d try to go in later, but it got so loud whenever someone opened the door that he preferred to stay outside for now, even if the air made him sweat from the heat.

  At least he had a bit of entertainment, courtesy of Fred, the knight in shining armor Mark had been waiting for all along. Handsome, helpful, smart, with his own business, Fred was just the kind of reliable older guy who could give him a new start in life. Even if he was a bit boring. And twenty years older than Mark.

  How long ‘til you make it here? Fred asked in a short text message, complete with a smiling emoticon. Mark was ashamed that some days he made so little progress in his journey, but it was a long way from north to south, and not everyone was keen on taking a teenage hitchhiker.

  Mark’s last ride left him in this middle of nowhere, as the guy was going back to his wife.

  I’m in the area. Probably a few more days. Saying good-bye to my life of no-good ;). Mark lit himself a cigarette and sat down on a wooden bench just outside the bar. Even the smoke couldn’t kill the stench of stale water coming from somewhere close. The air was so humid his lungs felt heavy.

  Bummer... I hoped to invite you for a nice dinner with friends this weekend, answered Fred.

  Oh yeah? Gonna have some nice grilled sausage? Mark snorted and pulled out his earphones when the roar of a bike drowned out his music.

  He looked up from his beat-up phone to see a tall, muscled man dismount a beastly-looking sport bike. He was far too good-looking for the dirty, smelly dump behind Mark’s back. It was almost as if the guy drove here all the way from the set of a music video to pull Mark away from his new life at Fred’s side.

  The phone beeped again, but Mark was too preoccupied to care about the reply as the biker god moved his way. He took off his helmet, revealing a shaggy bush of dark blond hair, and as he got closer, Mark also noticed stubble that he’d love to rub his hands all over. His muscular arms were tattooed and dusted with blond hairs, and he had several inches on Mark. When their eyes met for a short glance, Mark’s heart skipped a beat. Would he stand a chance? Even straight-ish guys rarely refused a BJ.

  The biker missed a step, and his eyes darted away, only to return to Mark’s face a second later. “What?” he muttered in a thick Southern accent.

  Mark slipped his tongue from between his lips as his breathing grew shallow from the proximity of that strong body. Even the Louisiana heat wasn’t too much anymore. Not many of the guys Mark had scored on the way here were this attractive. “You alone?” he eventually asked, stuffing his phone deep into his pocket, along with Fred’s words. The boring life could wait a few more days.

  The blond frowned, and even in the faint light from the bar, Mark could see his eyes were as blue as the sky over a tropical island. Fuck, he loved blonds.

  “What’s it to you?” the biker grumbled and glanced at the bar, but Mark could swear that when he turned back his head, he took half a second to check Mark out.

  The air in Mark’s throat was so hot it burned him on the inside, but he couldn’t stop himself from going for his prize. “I’d suck you off, if you want. It’s fifty dollars, but I’d take thirty from you.”

  Mark watched the pretty piece of man with his eyes wide open, but a part of him was ready to run if needed. It wouldn’t be the first time, but this guy was too good to miss out on. It was always better to regret doing something than not going for it at all.

  The biker took a deep breath that made his chest look wider under the white T-shirt he was wearing. Mark could swear even the guy’s nipples got more visible.

  “Do you live here?” he asked in the end, not moving by an inch.

  Mark exhaled, his whole body softening with relief. The biker had taken the bait. He was afraid someone might know, but Mark wouldn’t tell anyone. He prided himself with how discreet he could be when he wanted. “No. Just passing through,” he whispered, and it seemed that even with the background of loud music coming from the bar, the biker could understand him easily.

  “Let’s go somewhe
re else,” the man said and turned toward his bike.

  Mark had to bite his lips not to grin too hard at the outline of Blondie’s wide shoulders. Truth be told, he’d suck a guy like him for free, but every opportunity to make an extra few bucks was good. He now had less than ten dollars in his wallet, and if he wanted to reach Fred’s home within the week and start sleeping in a normal bed, he’d have to step up his game.

  He nodded, even though the biker couldn’t see him anymore, and followed, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

  The guy put on a helmet and pointed at the back of his bike. “Hop on.” The tension between them was getting thicker than the damp air, and right now, it was Mark who would spend his last ten bucks on fucking this guy. Maybe they’d go to his home, and Mark would get to experience that whole amazing body on his naked skin? It would be the perfect ending to a really shitty day.

  He grinned when his knees brushed the backs of the man’s thighs, and he stole a moment to sniff the leather vest with a picture of a coffin and a monstrous hand sticking out of it on the back. The patches read Coffin Nails MC Louisiana, and it only made Mark hornier. This guy was a member of a real outlaw club that recently made the news in connection to a drug war on the West Coast. A real man.

  “Hold on tight,” the biker mumbled from behind the helmet and revved the engine before driving off the gravel so fast that little rocks hit the back of Mark’s legs. He grabbed the rear of the seat and took a big gulp of air as the metal beast between his legs awakened and rushed down the empty road, straight into the darkness beneath the trees. Mark closed his eyes for a moment, his heart beating like crazy when he dared to look ahead again past the muscular arm and at the faint ray of light ahead.

  He had to remind himself that his clients were rarely like the guy in front of him and more often like the creepy uncle wanting you to sit on their knee on Christmas Day. He couldn’t have any hot guy sway him from his long-term goal, no matter how blond his hair or how blue his eyes. None of that would matter tomorrow when Mark had no money to buy breakfast.

  They drove for a good twenty minutes, and Mark’s dick was at half mast by the time they stopped off the road in the middle of nowhere. He swallowed hard and pushed his cheek against the stranger’s shoulder, brushing it against the hot leather of his vest.

  “And what will you do to me now?” he teased, even hornier with no one around.

  “You know what we’ll do,” the biker grumbled as he took off his helmet and dismounted, propping his bike behind some bushes so that it wouldn’t be visible from the road. He was still just as handsome as Mark thought at first glance. “Come on, we’ll be alone here.” He took a deep breath and went down a narrow path to a white, boxy building that looked like roadside restrooms.

  Mark bit his lip and followed him with a broad smile, inhaling the warm air as they moved through a patch of tall grass. “You are insanely hot,” he whimpered, following the biker like a hungry puppy. His mouth was already watering at the thought of opening those worn jeans and accepting whatever monster was hiding inside.

  The biker looked over his shoulder with a surprised expression that quickly turned into a cocky grin that made Mark melt. “I work out.”

  Mark ran up to him and made a point of squeezing the biker’s bicep. It was so thick and hard. “I can feel that. I imagine there’s a lot of steam to release with a body like this.”

  The guy took a deep breath and pulled Mark into the little building smelling of stale urine and concrete. “You wouldn’t believe how horny I am.”

  Mark sank to his knees right there into the grime that hurt him even through the denim of his jeans, but he didn’t care. He hooked his fingers through the belt loops of the man’s jeans and pulled him closer. “Show me.”

  The guy leaned against the wall. “You are over eighteen, right?” he rasped, and once Mark’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, the biker made the prettiest picture with his hair wild around his face when he looked down.

  Mark could barely look away. Unable to speak, he just nodded, like he always did whenever someone cared to ask. These were the good guys, and he didn’t want it to weigh on their conscience that they screwed a sixteen-year-old. It wasn’t as if anyone would know.

  The biker’s dick was already tenting his pants when he pulled out his phone. The way his stomach moved under the tight T-shirt made Mark want to stick his head under the fabric and kiss the hard abs. He wanted to do so many things to this guy that he couldn’t focus anymore.

  The biker unbuckled his belt and slid his fingers into Mark’s curly hair, pulling him closer to his crotch and closer to that hot, masculine scent Mark just wanted to rub all over himself.

  He pulled the jeans lower and looked up into the faint light of the cell phone looming over him. His stomach turned. “Are you filming this?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna jerk off to this so many times. So fucking hot.” The flush on the biker’s face and the dimples hidden in his stubble made him look almost cute, but there was nothing sweet about his words.

  Mark groaned and reached up to try to push the phone away. “You’re paying for a BJ, not copyrights.”

  The biker’s grip on Mark’s hair got stronger. “Just suck my fucking dick.”

  Mark’s lips pressed tightly together. That was a line he wouldn’t cross. There was always a chance he’d land a modeling job through Fred’s business, and then what? Suddenly this recording emerges and destroys his career?

  “So put the phone away. I’m not doing it otherwise.”

  “You don’t fucking tell me what to do,” the guy snarled, becoming less hot and more menacing by the second.

  Mark wouldn’t take this bullshit. “Let go, or I’ll fucking bite you!”

  The biker painfully twisted his grip in Mark’s hair. “You’ll get what you wanted, and it goes both ways, so open the fuck up and stop complaining, you little whiny shit!”

  Mark shuddered, looking around for some kind of weapon, but he could hardly see anything in the thick darkness illuminated only by the faint blue light of the phone. His mind went blank, only to suddenly rush forward when he heard voices outside.

  A laugh. Words in a soft, unknown language. Without thinking, Mark screamed. Even if the people outside ran away, not wanting to get involved, at least he could hope to distract the hot-as-hell asshole.

  “Help! Let go of me!” Mark screamed as loud as he could. “Please! Help!”

  The biker pulled him up with so much strength it almost broke Mark’s neck. He put his hand over Mark’s mouth and hissed. “Shut up.”

  But the sound of footsteps only grew louder, and just as Mark’s skin broke out in goose bumps, a tall, broad-shouldered shadow stepped inside.

  “The fuck you think you’re doing, huh?” he asked with a clearly foreign accent, spreading his big arms to the sides. Another person’s hand pulled at his shoulder, but the man wouldn’t have it and shrugged it off.

  “Piss off!” the biker yelled and dropped his phone, too focused on pulling up his pants.

  Beardie came closer, even taller than the blond, but not nearly as menacing with soft lines on his body and large eyes that Mark already knew as smiley. Only as he walked, Mark noticed he was swaying a bit too much, as if he had just had a few shots.

  The other stranger shook his head and combed back his long black hair. “What are you doing?” he asked his friend, even though Mark could distinctly feel the burn of the man’s dark gaze on his own skin. It was the same guy who had bought him a pack of condoms a few hours ago. But Mark was too busy with the fallen phone to care. Anger bubbled up in his chest as he thought of the biker recording him without permission. What a freaking douchebag. And for that phone, Mark could eat in diners for a week. He snatched it before anyone noticed, especially the biker, who was too busy eyeing the new arrivals.

  Beardie pointed at Mark. “We have to help him,” he said with a slur to his words.

  Just as Mark was about to sneak away on his hands and knees
, the biker grabbed his hair again and pulled him back into the darkness. “He’s not going anywhere. This is none of your business!”

  Mark looked at the two strangers again and tried to get away from the biker’s clutches. He didn’t deserve this! Hadn’t he been nice all along? “Fuck off, you pig!”

  The longhaired foreigner shook his head and spoke with a voice as smooth as steel. “Let him go.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the biker hissed.

  “I can deal with this, Dom, step back,” Beardie said drunkenly and took another uncertain step toward Mark. “You better let him go, or… else.”

  Dom put his palm over his face and let it slide down as a pained groan escaped his lips.

  The biker grabbed Mark around the neck and pulled him back so hard it yanked the ground from beneath Mark’s feet. “Or else what? I’m taking him, so fuck off!”

  Mark yelped when a gun flashed in the darkness. Beardie pulled it out from a holster by his belt and pointed it at the biker, but in the state he was in, anyone present was a possible target. “Or I’ll shoot your brains out!”

  The biker instantly let go, just to pull out a gun of his own and point it back at Beardie.

  It didn’t even take a second for the third man to pull out a black beast of a gun and shove Beardie behind his back with a stern expression.

  “This ends. Now,” he growled.

  A few hours before

  Blood stung Domenico‘s eyes as he blinked away the red film that clouded his vision. Seth’s feet were dangling inches above the crimson puddle, his arms tense and his joints unnaturally stretched. He was like a broken bird, laid open, with skin crisscrossed by open wounds. His chest was barely moving at this point, but the dark, beautiful eyes stubbornly refused to cloud over. He kept looking straight at Domenico, begging for help when his tongueless mouth couldn’t anymore. But Domenico was powerless.