by Zoey Marcel
“Quit getting harder for me every time I say it and I will.”
He moaned, eyes shutting in acceptance as his balls drew up and hardened painfully.
“That’s right. Moan for me, little virgin. You’re gonna come so hard for me,” Heller ground out through the fucking.
Both men grunted, panting desperately the closer to climax they drew. It took next to nothing for them to come. The magnitude of his orgasm shocked a gasping cry from Heath.
“That’s it. Come for me, bible boy.”
The mocking pet name fueled his sex drive and he came that much harder. The fierce suction of his asshole clinging to Heller’s wide girth had him choking on breathy sobs. It was too much, absolutely incredible. He shot off in Heller’s hand, spewing hot gushes of cum everywhere. It was so freeing to expel his release all over the floor, knowing that the other man felt the hard throb of his cock as he unloaded his semen.
Heller growled at the rapid spasms massaging his dick and he came only seconds later. He jabbed into Heath without remorse, tearing pained outcries from him. The man kept fucking him until he was spent and the last of his orgasm had passed over him.
Heath’s breath caught when Heller shoved him down on the carpet, forcing him to lie in his own puddle of spunk. It was gross and somehow titillating at the same time.
Heller slumped over him, breathing heavily. “Tell me you didn’t like that.”
Heath tittered. “You know I did.”
Heller pulled from him slowly and then helped him up. The tattooed biker closed his fly, eyeing him with hunger as Heath redressed.
“Spend the night with me. You can share my bed.”
Heath licked his lips. “I shouldn’t.”
“But you will. It’s my house so you play by my rules.”
He smiled a little. “Bossy as ever.”
“Say you’ll stay.”
“I’ll stay, but I have to leave early in the morning before someone sees me.”
Heller gave him a devil’s smile. “Just set your alarm or I’ll set mine.”
Heath showered off and then climbed into bed alone, exhausted. He heard and saw Heller climb into bed with him after the man had washed. Both were in their underwear and a T-shirt. They didn’t cuddle. Heath felt a bit too coy to initiate it and Heller stayed on his side of the bed, seeming distant and aloof. Still, it felt good to share a bed with his best friend.
* * * *
Holy fucking shit! I had sex with him.
He’d slept with a man, been fucked by him rather vigorously, and God forbid, he’d liked it a lot.
Heath flew out of bed and scrambled to get his jeans, socks, and boots on. What the hell had he been thinking?
Heller rolled over onto his side, ogling him like a debauched pervert or some kind of deliberate serpent of ruin. “Where are you going in a hurry?”
“What the fuck did we do?” Heath couldn’t think straight. He remembered everything vividly, recalled how passionately he’d yearned for all of it, accepted it, and wanted it to happen.
A casual, remorseless smile curved Heller’s lips, the ones he hadn’t kissed Heath with last night. Why not?
Because Heller was a pig, that’s why. The man was only interested in fucking without intimacy or commitment, hence the no-cuddling afterward either.
Fucking dick.
“Heath, my boy, you don’t get to pretend it didn’t happen. You know what we did.”
His head spun and he felt dizzy, confused, fucking freaked out. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Heller held out his hand, wearing a demon smirk. “You want to come back to bed and tell me about it?”
“No,” Heath snapped, wrestling with the maddening impulse to hop back into bed with him. God help him, it was too strong, the craving for this man too intense for resistance. But somehow he must.
“I’m not just gonna let you use me and then walk away from me,” Heller told him. “It doesn’t work like that.”
Heath could hardly look at him for fear of caving and for all the guilt. He didn’t believe the way his father did anymore, but it didn’t change what was expected of him or the charade he was trying to keep up.
“It has to. This isn’t right. I’m supposed to be the good one. Do you understand?”
Heller rolled his eyes. “Right, ’cause Carsten’s being gay is such a crime. When are you gonna quit being a self-righteous little prick?”
“You’re one to talk. You seduced me. You planned all this.”
He licked his lips, glancing down at the bed briefly while a subtle smile played on his face, one that betrayed slyness and humor. “Now, Heath, that sounds like an accusation. Judge not, lest you be judged.”
“Don’t fucking quote scripture to me, you corrupt biker.”
Heller’s eyes narrowed to threatening slits. “Oh, so now I’m evil for being a biker?”
Heath paused at the bedroom door. “That Princes of Hell motorcycle gang you grew up in is part of the one percent. Everybody knows they’re a bunch of outlaws. Don’t deny it.”
Heller sat up with a careless shrug. “Wasn’t going to. See, unlike you, I’m not ashamed of who I am and I don’t play games or run around like a hypocritical little bitch, pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Call me bitch one more time.”
“Bitch.”
Heath’s jaw locked. “Fuck you. This was a mistake. Stay the hell away from me.”
“This is just the beginning, Brodie. There’s a whole lot of hot, sweaty gay sex in your future. I can promise you that. Now come back to bed with me and you can tell me what comes after sixty-eight.”
Heath’s cheeks burned and his cock stirred in his jeans. His knees buckled when he saw Heller turn the covers down. “You stay the fuck away from me.”
Heller glared at him. “You still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”
“I am better than you.”
He cracked a humorless grin and shook his head. “You’re the one who got fucked last night. Between the two of us I’m more of a man than you. You want to know why?”
“Don’t you fucking say it.”
Heller’s eyes laughed at him. “’Cause you’re my bitch.”
“I’m not your bitch, damn you. You’re not gonna taint my father’s view of me. I’m the good one.”
His eyes swept over Heath with obvious hunger. “You seem like a dirty boy to me.”
God, that look melted him like butter. He felt feverish and weak in the knees beneath Heller’s shameless leer.
“Knock it off, you pervert. You’re bad news. Just stay the fuck away from me.”
Heath left in a hurry, feeling hot and dirty, confused.
His father deserved a son he was proud of, one who didn’t disappoint him. He wasn’t about to let Heller sully his image and ruin what he had with his dad.
The sex with Heller last night had blown his mind, but they couldn’t repeat it, no matter how badly Heath wanted to. As torn and conflicted as he was, there was no denying that he really, really burned to get into bed with Heller again.
No. The man was a bastard, an outlaw biker, and fucking bi in the gayest of ways.
Heath was the son of a preacher, an upstanding guy, and as straight as a ruler.
It was a one-night stand. That’s all. No different than sleeping with a woman—except this time his partner had had different plumbing. Aside from that minor detail it was just like a heterosexual encounter—except not. A forbidden liaison of this nature could cost him his relationship with his dad.
That was his older brother Carsten’s mistake. Heath was smarter than him, stronger, straighter. He didn’t cave to his taboo lusts—except for last night when he had, but only once.
No more. He would give anything to fuck the hell out of Danielle right now to reestablish himself, but she was into love-orgies. He preferred monogamy, but he didn’t know what the hell this was.
Apology sex, maybe. The unspoken “I’m sorry�
� for what he’d done to Heller years ago. Yes, that had to be it. Now Heller had gotten what he wanted: filthy sex with a man. That was all he cared about, and Heath had made up his betrayal to him in a way. Now they could move on with their lives and never see each other again. It was better that way, safer.
Heath’s body felt hot and cold and shaky when he thought of Heller—remembered his touch, the erotic sound of his voice while the stronger man had fucked him. He clutched the steering wheel in his parked truck once he was in the parking lot outside of his own home in Stone River.
As he walked through the cold morning air toward his apartment, he felt naked and soiled despite his clothing. It felt like the whole world knew what he’d done, even though that was impossible.
He took a shower and then decided to watch straight porn. It was a ménage, unfortunately, but maybe he should condition himself to want that so he could rejoin Danielle with her fuck buddies.
The men in the film were pleasuring the woman, then they started going at each other. Heath shrieked and flew to his feet.
Stop it! Quit groping each other!
God, it was arousing. A sultry swarm of memories from last night came hurtling back through his mind. He shut the porn off, feeling stiff and uncomfortable with the need for release.
Not going there.
He dumped cold water on his head and howled in misery. That definitely deflated his confused cock.
If Carsten could straighten himself out and marry a woman, Heath could overcome this threatening bisexuality and embrace the straighter side of himself again. He was lucky he liked both sexes. It meant he had a choice of either men or women. Even if he hadn’t, he would still beat this. He was stronger than Carsten, better.
Certainly he was better than Heller. That guy was an outlaw biker, a rebel, and a first-class hedonist without a shred of remorse. It was despicable.
His dick perked with interest.
Really fucking despicable.
Swells of hot blood flooded his groin, filling his shaft and sparking heat in his testes.
Goddamn you, Heller.
Maybe a violent movie or something.
At least now that the pervert had gotten what he wanted from him, Heller wouldn’t bother him again. That was good because Heath didn’t know how he could resist the man if he ever came around again.
* * * *
Heller Enos had a shit-eating grin on his face all fucking day. He seduced pious little bitch Heath Brodie. Christ, what an exhilarating rush. He’d always known it would be intoxicating bliss, but his main motive had been retribution for Heath’s betrayal of him years ago. Revenge was sweet, but seeing Heath naked for the first time and feeling his hot, hard body quiver beneath him while pushing his dick into Heath’s ass had been sublime beyond comprehension.
He watched the film he’d secretly recorded of him taking Heath’s anal virginity. He was definitely keeping this. It made him hard as a rock all over again to watch it. It had been his intent to use this footage as either blackmail, or simply to post it online, or send it to people Heath knew. But that incomparable delight of fucking Heath and hearing him so enraptured by their joined bodies had Heller procrastinating.
Retaliation didn’t necessarily have to happen right away. It could be a slow and steady process.
He loved how torn and conflicted Heath was over the whole thing. Heller wanted to smite him with guilt some more and fuck the living hell out of him again and again.
That prudish asshole still had the audacity to think he was better than everyone else. Heller would show him he wasn’t. He would keep pounding the obnoxious bastard with his dick until the cowboy had no choice but to admit the truth. Heath was either gay or bisexual, but he sure as hell wasn’t straight. The motherfucker was up to his eyeballs in denial. Heller was having the time of his life with it.
He figured he’d keep harassing the prick until Heath begged for him. Heller would have him in all sorts of vulnerable, compromising positions. Hell, if he was sadistic enough he might even make the jackass care for him again like he used to.
Heller just had to take care not to fall back in love with him. He’d never stopped loving the little shit, but it didn’t matter. Revenge was more important. Heath didn’t deserve to be loved, only to be condemned to judgment and justice...and to be fucked senseless.
It all would end the same. In the end Heller would expose Heath for the hypocrite he was, humiliate him, and utterly ruin him. He would out the cowboy like Heath had outed him long ago, but first Heller would torment him with the guilt of being fucked by a man and make him burn with passion until Heath became so inflamed for him he submitted to Heller completely. Maybe even fell in love with him.
Heller hardened his heart against the soft current of feeling that tried to break through. None of that shit. He intended to get Heath’s soul as naked as his body had been last night, then he’d rip his heart out like the younger man had done to him a decade ago.
Heath thought this was over. Heller smirked at this. That was cute, really fucking cute. The hot-ass cowboy had no idea how far from over this was.
Chapter Seven
Danielle stood outside of the Enos house in McKenna Downs. Kale opened the door.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
He stepped back and held the door open wider so she could enter. After shutting and locking it he faced her.
“Why have you come?”
Once the initial hypnosis of staring into caramel eyes that glittered with all things forbidden and Kale’s muscular frame and ultra-hip hair, had gotten under control, she was finally able to say something.
“Brighton tells me you’ve been training him in BDSM,” she said.
Kale’s hedonistic smile made her guts twist and her hands shake. “You want me to teach you as well?”
“What? That’s not why I came here. I’m worried about him.”
“You’re afraid I’ll hurt him.”
“Well, that or leave him. I just need to know the level of your feelings for him.”
His expression cooled. “That is not your concern.”
The nerve!
“As his fiancée I think I have a right to know if you’re gonna break his heart in the end.”
His countenance lightened. “Fair enough. If anyone does the leaving it will have to be him. I’ve grown too fond of him to let him go.”
That was a relief, but he could just be saying that. He appeared sincere, but she didn’t really know him.
“Do I have your word on that?”
Again, pointless as some people didn’t keep their promises, but she needed something to reassure her that Brighton wasn’t going to get hurt by any of this.
“You have it. I swear to you I will do him no harm.” Kale destroyed the distance between them and her brave facade. “Has he spoken to you of the arrangement he came up with?”
She gulped, summoning the recollection of speech and all things intelligent. He stood so close to her she felt heat pouring from his skin and warming her.
“What arrangement?”
“I see he hasn’t.” Kale walked over to a filing cabinet and removed some papers from one of the folders. “Discuss this with Brighton tonight. If the terms seem agreeable to you and I excite you, fill these papers out and bring them back to me.”
The arrogance!
She peered at the first page, mouth hanging down somewhere in Brazil when she saw the explicit words. “What is all this?”
“A list of hard and soft limits for you to fill out. Brighton asked me to train you in BDSM as I’ve been training him. It is your choice. If you’re interested in the lifestyle, and as fascinated by me as I am by you, then fill this out and bring it back to me.” Kale ran his fingers through her hair.
Calluses raked over her scalp, the soothing glide through her strands raising chills over her skin and making her pussy tingle.
“That’s why he’s been harassing me to meet you,” she mumbled.
“If yo
u decide you want this, you will come to me the next time he does and I will teach you. There doesn’t have to be any sex between you and me, but we both know there will be.”
Her head flew up to smite him with her indignant eyes, but the self-assurance emanating from him broke her resolve.
“You think I want you?”
“I know you do.”
Heat engulfed her face and a conceited smirk took over his.
“I saw that picture Brighton posted of you on his fake profile. I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you. He’s told me all about you. I think you will do nicely.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” The words strangled in her throat when he traced the tendons in her neck with the back of his finger.
Her cunt spasmed.
“I’m glad you were concerned for him,” he murmured, eyes following the salacious trail of his finger over her pulse. “It proves you care about him. I would never let anyone hurt them. Not even you.”
She gritted her teeth. “Well, I wouldn’t let you hurt him either.”
He softened her jaw with his big hand cradling her there. The searing roughness of his touch moistened her pussy.
“Then we both love him.”
She blinked at this. “You love him?”
“Very much.”
“Have you told him?” Her bottom lip prickled when he ran his callused thumb over it.
“I will tell him when the time is right.”
“I’m glad you feel something for him, but he’s marrying me. I loved him first.”
“I love him the deepest.” Kale stepped closer, dominating her with his intense stare and his invasive closeness.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m jealous when I think of him with you.” His cadence gentled, becoming hot and silky, the stark contrast of his iron gaze. “You share him and worry only for his safety rather than him leaving you for me.”
“It’s because I’m more secure than you.”
He snickered at this. His pristine teeth resembled snow offset by the brownness of his skin. “I don’t think so, kitten. I’m not the one trembling.”
