Alluring Passion: A MM Contemporary Bundle

by Peter Styles

  A little cryptic, but I’ll take it, he thought

  Another message came through, which he read eagerly. I guess word already reached the rep that people were having a problem with me.

  He waited, but nothing else came through. His turn, then. Shit, does that mean you got fired?

  No! Chance sent back quickly. It just means she agreed some time away would be good. Let all this blow over.

  And maybe never come back if you don’t want to, Angel could read between the lines. So, how long did she give you? he texted back instead.

  We’ve got three weeks. Starting day after tomorrow. One last big burial. Where do you want to go?

  Angel let out a heavy sigh and then flopped over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling fan spinning. His nerves moved in circles like that. Up until now, he had been halfway convinced this would never happen. But now they had three weeks! Twenty-one whole days. That was almost a whole month, to do anything they wanted. To go wherever their hearts desired. So many places that could be. So many options. Plus, it was summer. Tourist attractions were in full bloom. There was no better time to go somewhere than right now.

  He just had to decide.

  Bringing the phone up in front of his face, he texted, I was thinking somewhere out west. I’ll know for sure by tomorrow.

  Well, keep me updated, Ghostie. Still have to pack and stuff.

  Angel glanced around the room at his sparse belongings. Yeah, packing. Sure. But all he sent back was, Don’t worry. No rush on anything.

  The conversation tapered off and he wondered why. What was Chance doing at this hour? Making a midnight snack? Reading quietly as he wound down towards getting ready for bed? Soon, he would have all those answers. His curiosity would be satisfied. He would get to see Chance every second of every day for almost a whole month and he could ask everything, observe everything. Did he pat or rub himself dry from the shower? How did he take his coffee? What sound did he make when he sneezed?

  Angel sighed and got up to start getting ready for bed himself, not that he had anything to get up to in the morning. He brushed his teeth mechanically, staring at himself in the mirror. No rush was a lie. There was absolutely a rush. He needed to get close to Chance. He needed to go on this adventure. They both did. How often did an opportunity like this come around, for two people to break away from their current lives like this and just…go anywhere?

  Stripping out of his clothes, Angel slid between the bedsheets and lay on his back with his eyes closed. One hand strayed towards his cock, which lay limp and soft between his legs. A momentary pulse of heat traveled through his loins as he pictured Chance’s sweet face twisted in an agony of pleasure, but he couldn’t get the feeling to stay. His own hand was too large, too rough for the illusion. He couldn’t jerk off to Chance. It wouldn’t do him justice. That particular thrill would have to wait.

  But where to go? What to do? What journey could they take together?

  He thought long and hard, imaginings taking him slowly into sleep. He dreamed of things that couldn’t be his, definitely not, but wished that they could. Someone beside him, his arm around their waist. Hands clasped together. Soft skin and gentle motion in that way a dream has of slowing something meant to be fast. Nothing else in the dream mattered, nonsensical as dreams could be.

  When he woke up at three a.m., he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

  Chapter 11

  The plans were decided. Chance stared at a map for ages, tracing the path with one finger. From Astoria to Colorado Springs, Colorado, with a stopover in the middle somewhere of that thirteen-hour drive. They would stay in Colorado for a short time, perhaps a week, and then move off again to Cody, Wyoming, which was one of the gateways nearest Yellowstone. A stay there for another short time, and then back to Astoria.

  That was the plan, and he really didn’t consider it much of a plan at all. Angel kept trying to reassure him that they didn’t need set dates for anything because they were going to play all of this by ear and do what they wanted, but Chance really didn’t have any idea how to do that. Who just went on a road trip without planning it?

  Well, drifters did, he supposed. He would just have to trust Angel, rock-thrower, cemetery-haunter, and heart-stealer.

  He’d packed the night before, lips twisting a little grimly at the realization that almost all of his clothes fit into one little suitcase. He also added a few unread books to the mix, and other essentials. And since Angel didn’t seem to understand the concept of how to travel properly, Chance also bought a cheap $5 cooler and filled it with ice and drinks, and grabbed a grocery bag’s worth of snacks. All that was a new worry, as he stood in the aisles and slowly panicked upon realizing he didn’t exactly know what Angel preferred. In an effort to fix that, he just grabbed one of everything he could carry and spent half the night wide-awake worrying that it wouldn’t be good enough.

  At nine a.m., Chance grabbed his suitcase and headed over to the window to watch for Angel. His heart caught in his throat every time it tried to beat, and dislodging it soon became more effort than it was worth.

  Maybe he’s not coming. No, he has to come. What else would he do?

  At 9:10, he started pacing. Another ten minutes after that and he was ready to tear his hair out. Then, a pebble clattered against his window and he squealed, spinning around to stare through the glass with his eyes opened so wide he thought they might fall right out of his head. And wouldn’t that be a great way to start his vacation!

  Standing below him with another pebble in hand was none other than Angel himself. A grin stretched across his lips as he tossed the rock up into the air and caught it, and then flicked it across his knuckles to land in the gravel that covered the parking lot.

  Chance smiled and headed out to him. “When are you going to stop throwing rocks at me?” he asked.

  Angel just grinned more. “At least I did it romantically this time. The whole secret lovers thing. Impressed?”

  Chance glanced at him over his shoulder as he went to unlock his car and stick the suitcase in the trunk, where it only just fit. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” Angel said, his voice lowering with a dangerous something that Chance didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, it made his stomach tingle. “Where are you going?”

  Chance pointed back up at the apartment. “I have some more stuff to bring down. Go ahead and put your stuff in. I’ll be right back.”

  As he walked away, he was distinctly aware of Angel’s gaze on his rear, following him until he disappeared from sight. And when that awareness was gone, he missed it; hurriedly grabbing at the cooler and bag of snacks, he went back outside. The sunlight was warm but Angel’s amused gaze was even warmer. “What the hell is all that?”

  “Supplies,” Chance panted. “Open the door for me.”

  Obligingly, Angel pulled open one of the car doors and watched as Chance shoved the cooler inside first. “Did you rob a convenience store? Why do we need all this?”

  “Because,” Chance said, straightening up, “you’re traveling with me now instead of a random trucker. And I don’t want to spend six hours in a car with you without anything to eat.”

  “Why?” Angel grinned, leaning against the car. “Afraid you’ll eat me instead?”

  Chance swallowed hard as warmth swirled through his stomach and his dick gave a sudden twitch. “No,” he countered. “I just might bite your head off if I get hungry.”

  “Biting my head…” Angel seemed to contemplate that. Chance suddenly realized another potential meaning behind those words and blushed, turning his head away. “Kinky, yet painful. Maybe we should start in a different place. Like this.”

  Before he knew what was happening, Chance’s body was pressed back roughly against the car by Angel’s approach. A small gasp pulled from between his lips, which was then swallowed by Angel’s mouth covering his. Their tongues met between them, tasting and teasing one another. Chance’s knees
were weak, nothing more than overcooked noodles. All that held him up was the thigh sliding between his legs and the firm hands wrapped around his face, caressing his cheeks. Whimpering now, he pressed down slightly against that thigh and started to rock forward to press his cock against it.

  Before he could, Angel drew back and straightened up. Chance staggered slightly, dizzy and so weak. He grabbed at the door handle to try and hold himself up, and then collapsed as it sprang open for him. Throwing out his hands in front of him, he just barely managed to avoid smacking his face against the gravel.

  Shaking his head, he started to push himself up only to find a hand thrust out in front of his face. The hand trembled, Angel was laughing so hard. “You know, no one’s ever fallen for me like that before.”

  Chance scowled and shoved his hand away to stand on his own. “Just for that, you’re driving.”

  “What makes you think I have a license?”

  Oh.

  But, before he could withdraw his comment, Angel had his hand shoved in his pocket and was pulling out his keys. “I’d love to drive,” he said casually and grinned, opening the driver side door.

  I’m going to regret this.

  Chance shut the door he’d opened and went around to what was now his side, and slid inside. Angel took a moment to adjust the seat for his longer legs and fiddle with the mirror. Then, he stuck the keys in the ignition and looked over at Chance. “So, which way am I going?”

  Chance rolled his eyes and pointed out past Angel. “That way. I have directions on my phone.”

  “Got it, Captain,” Angel said, snapping off a jaunty salute while backing out of the parking lot. Aside from an initial bit of fumbling, he then proceeded to handle Chance’s dumpy little car like he’d been driving it for years.

  The first hour and a half were complex right off the bat and might have been a real strain if not for the fact that Angel cracked jokes every time he very nearly screwed up. For all intents and purposes, he wasn’t a terrible driver. However, he was a risky one. He accelerated too fast and jerked to stops at the very last moment, often treating signs as though they all meant yield. He pulled out into the smallest of gaps that left Chance breathless and clutching at his chest. And yet, as Angel laughed, Chance couldn’t help but to join in. Adrenaline lurched through his body after every time that his anxieties got the better of him, almost to the point where he couldn’t tell them apart any longer.

  Then, they passed the Illinois border and entered into Missouri. Without a sign to tell them that they never would have known. Everything looked the same. A brief pass through Hannibal and they got on US-36 W for what would be the next major part of their journey. Two hours or more of nothing but going straight.

  “I haven’t been this straight since never,” Chance giggled nervously, looking off down the long highway in front of them. The sky and the ground met, blending with the narrow lane of trees on either side of the road. Everything was featureless, utterly flat.

  Angel glanced over at him briefly, one finger flicking as he set the cruise control. “Do you think it’s a choice?”

  Chance looked down at his lap, heart stammering a little. He already said the wrong thing. Damn. “I didn’t mean…It was a joke.”

  “I know. I was asking a question.” Angel glanced at him again, making him nervous. As much as he liked having the other man’s eyes on him, he also would have really appreciated it if Angel watched the road. “So, do you think it’s a choice?”

  “No,” Chance finally answered. He drummed his fingers in his lap. “I also don’t think it’s a black-and-white thing that you are or you aren’t. And I don’t think sexuality needs labels.”

  “Me too.”

  “But…” How to say this next part? “I think everyone makes a choice eventually. To…accept what they are. Do you think?”

  Angel let out a soft sigh. “I think maybe the lucky ones won’t. With any luck, the next generation is more accepting than ours.”

  “Do you really think places like Astoria are going to change just because time goes by?”

  “No, but…” Angel sighed again. “I know I was the one who brought it up but I think we need to change the topic. I had no idea how hard it was to actually drive out of Illinois. Can you believe it?”

  “I can,” Chance laughed. “I drove into it. It’s awful, right? Everything is under construction and all tangled up, for years on end. I don’t think anything ever actually gets fixed.”

  “And your road signs are confusing as hell.”

  Chance looked out the window, watching the mile signs pass them by. “You hadn’t been to Illinois before now?”

  “Chance, there isn’t a state except Alaska and Hawaii that I haven’t been to. It’s just that I’m usually asleep in the back seat.”

  “I have no idea how you can do that. How can you even trust people enough to get in their vehicles?”

  “Play it by ear,” Angel replied, very seriously. “I try not to put my thumb out anywhere where there aren’t other people around, just in case I feel like I need to walk away from someone. Usually it’s women that have to be careful about whose truck they get in, but there was this one time when this lady seemed to think it would be perfectly normal to take me home to dinner. Her home. That’s weird enough as is, but then she started talking about her husband.”

  “Oh, god!”

  “Oh god is right. And that’s not even the worst part. She actually called this guy up on speaker phone and basically told him that she was bringing another man home.” Angel made his voice higher, as though trying to reach for a note that he couldn’t. “‘A nice young man.’ That’s what she called me. And the thing is, he sounded just as excited as she did.”

  Chance shuddered, imagining how incredibly creepy that must have been. “Are you sure that you didn’t get murdered by them? You really could be a ghost right now.”

  “Nah, I faked having diarrhea and she let me out on the side of the road. Real nice lady.”

  “How do you…Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  Angel grinned over at him. “Mind if I turn the radio on? Usually not polite to ask in strangers’ cars but I know you, so…”

  “Go ahead.” Chance shook his head at the way Angel’s face brightened. Such a simple thing. The world had obviously gone wrong when small, simple things were the best to ever happen to a person. For a time, as the world passed them by, they listened to the songs on the radio. Angel commented on each one, even the ones he hated, although he seemed insistent on not changing the station. Chance wondered if he even knew that he could, or if he knew how.

  Finally, during a pause in the songs while the disc jockey jabbered on something nonsensical, Chance reached over and turned the volume down. “Why haven’t you ever joined a band?”

  “Freedom,” Angel replied immediately, as though the answer was obvious. “At first, all I wanted to do was move around. After a bit of that, it becomes all you know. Settling down in one place isn’t so easy. Especially for someone like me. A band would want someone with a background of working in a band. I’d be everyone’s last choice, which means only a loser band would pick me up. And maybe that would be okay, but those types tend to stick to one area. No tours. Nothing. Same if I got a gig in a city. That’s all it is. A gig in that one city.”

  Chance so badly wanted to ask about what had come before all that, the event that forced Angel into moving around like this, but he couldn’t. The time wasn’t right for it. Instead, he chose to ask more innocent questions about playing the guitar and music itself. Watching Angel’s posture relax as he answered, Chance knew he’d been right not to press.

  Time passed. They made their first rest stop and bought hamburgers from McDonalds. Angel explored the snack bag with one hand, laughing at each and every item he discovered.

  “I didn’t even know some of this stuff actually existed in bags,” he chuckled. “This is like the crappy candy at the bottom of your pumpkin after Halloween is over. I c
an’t believe you thought anyone would like this stuff.”

  Chance scowled. “You’re weird! I thought you might like to eat weird candy that was made in Mexico.”

  “Ah, Mexico,” Angel sighed profoundly. “They’ve done so many things correctly but candy clearly is not one of them.”

  Four hours into the trip, the conversation turned to books. And that was when Chance discovered that he couldn’t shut up when it came to that topic. His mouth opened and the words came out, like a rainbow to which no one had ever found the end. For someone who was often timid—and knew himself as being so—that was surprising. Even more surprisingly was the fact that Angel also seemed to be a reader.

  “At least,” he amended, “I read when I can. Carrying books around is unnecessary weight.”

  That’s sad.

  At six hours, they ran into their first bit of traffic on the border into Kansas. And Kansas…It was exactly everything it was purported to be.

  “Oh, my god, I understand why Dorothy wanted to go back to Oz,” Chance breathed, staring out the window. In an instant, the trees that politely sheltered the highway from the view of the rest of the world just simple fell away and revealed a browning plain of absolutely nothing. If he thought before that the highway stretched out for miles ahead, he now knew better than that. Those trees planted along the sides of the highway did much more than simply block the view: they suppressed the view. Between them, the highway was all there was to see.

  Kansas made no such attempts at an illusion. The highways rolled out like a red carpet leading to the saddest event ever, where the awards were random trees. Here and there were telephone lines and towns in the distance. The lay of the land shifted, flat or sloping, and the colors shifted in a mild way once in a while, but the general view never changed. Even the clouds seemed to have completely given up here, succumbing to a boring and unbroken expanse of pure blue.

  And it was made all that much worse by the traffic, which came and went in sudden bursts for mile upon mile. By the time they actually arrived at the source of all the traffic, which was a crash involving two semitrailers, Chance was about to smash his face against the glove compartment. Then they were past it, and it was smooth sailing once again.