by Jacobs, Kyle
Some of the men gasped dramatically. Others applauded.
As Logan addressed the crowd Oliver found he had put his hand on the small of Oliver's back. An unconscious gesture? Or did it mean something? The flesh beneath the part of his shirt he touched tingled as if electrified.
"You can all come back for the dance portion on Friday night, as planned."
The guys were very happy now. They obviously knew of what had been expected of them behind that office door. Now it was no longer a worry.
Oliver found himself grinning like a fool, savoring Logan's touch.
The same hand he slapped Henry with, he thought. Slapped him because of me. He felt a strange mix of emotions.
Oh, here I go again, he thought. Sucked into this world by a handsome biker. He shook his head. I got to leave here before things get worse. I don't need another mess.
He then noticed Eddie, standing to one side of the group. Their eyes met, and Oliver smiled at him. But Eddie was not smiling back. Not at all. He actually looked annoyed.
Logan had finished talking, and smiled at Oliver. Keeping his composure as best he could he smiled back and said, "Thanks again, for that."
The handsome biker said, "Anytime."
Oliver felt deep down inside that he really meant it.
Run, girl! He thought. Leave, now!
Oliver casually stepped away from him, and Logan turned to speak with another guy who was practically throwing himself bodily onto him to get his attention.
As Oliver headed for the exit Eddie intercepted him. The other man's expression was now friendly and smiling but more reserved. The complete opposite of what it was moments ago.
"Guess it worked out for you, huh?" Eddie said. There was no maliciousness to his tone, but Oliver sensed something deeper. Resentment?
"I guess," Oliver said, wanting to just detach himself from everyone in this place, but not wanting to be too rude. "But I still feel this isn't the right time for me. To get back into stripping."
Eddie visibly perked up at this news. "Oh, well that's too bad, honey. You know you can come back anytime that you want. But maybe it's for the best."
Oliver didn't know this guy long enough to tell if he was serious, or just emotionally flaky when expressing himself. And if Oliver was really being honest with himself he didn't want to care. He was gone. Poverty be damned. If he had to live on the streets, eating out of dumpsters and begging, then so be it. No stripping, no Gavin, no bikers, no heartache.
He just had to get out of here and never look back, before something changed his mind.
"Hey," said a familiar voice from behind him.
Oliver whirled around, and caught his breath. Logan was standing there, close, grinning down at him.
"Need a ride?" Logan asked.
Chapter 4
Oliver
"Uh," Oliver said. It was all he could say to Logan at that very moment of decision.
Eddie rescued him by inserting himself between the two of them. "Hey, Logan," he cooed. He was positively beaming.
And who could blame him, Oliver thought. Or at least tried to think. His insides were quivering and all tingly just looking at him. Logan was so damn fine, and handsome and... fine.
Logan just glanced at Eddie, then dismissed him from existence to ask Oliver, "You live near here?"
Oliver found himself nodding. "I'm staying at the Hemlock Motel."
"Okay," Logan said. He brushed past Eddie and put his hand against Oliver's back, guiding him toward the door. "Then lets roll."
Oliver let himself by gently pushed along, his mind in a fog.
The heat outside hit him like a smothering wool blanket. But it was still better than being inside Henry's office. Other guys were now leaving, some being picked up by waiting cars.
Oliver paused. Again, he found himself looking for that blue mustang. He couldn't see it.
"You coming?" Logan asked him when he had stopped.
"Yeah," he said, and followed him.
"How long have you been in town?" he asked.
"Uh, I dunno. A couple days." For some reason, talking about himself made him even more nervous. Get a grip, buddy.
"You came for the audition, huh?"
"Yeah, read about it online." The heady feeling he got while talking to him was fading a little. Making it easier to concentrate on what he was saying. But he still had one hell of an effect on him.
They approached a candy apple red camaro which glinted in the sunlight.
They both stopped to admire it. "This your car?" he asked.
"One of them," he said, indicating for him to go around to the passenger side. "Get in."
As he walked around, he looked about the lot in confusion. "Where's your bike?" He actually expected Logan to drive him back with it. That got him excited.
"Took this today," he said, grinning. "In case it rained."
Oliver looked up at the cloudless blue sky. Then they both laughed.
He got in. Nice leather seats. Everything looked brand new, or at least newly refurbished. "Wow," he said. "Sweet ride."
"I always give sweet rides," he said, the grin never fading from his face. And with that he started the engine and revved it up.
Oh, I bet you do, Oliver thought, that flutter in his stomach returning.
They pulled out of his parking spot and did a slow cruise by the guys near the front door. All of them stared at the beautiful car, then at the beautiful man driving it.
Oliver couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself. Out of all those hotties Logan had chosen him for some attention.
Eddie was standing right at the edge of the sidewalk watching Logan drive past. He didn't acknowledge him and Oliver noticed what could be tears in the other man's eyes.
Then they were on the highway, heading in the direction of the motel.
"I think that Eddie fellow really likes you," Oliver said.
Logan frowned a little at this. "Yeah, we had a thing once, but it's long over. Nothing there anymore."
Maybe for you, Oliver thought. He hoped he wasn't prying too much, but Logan seemed cool about it.
"Where you from, anyway?" Logan asked.
"Up north," Oliver said, trying to be as nonspecific as he could. "I just wanted to get away and maybe start something new, ya know?"
Logan smiled at this. "Yeah, I get that. I just started something new myself."
"What's that?" Oliver asked, happy to change the subject to him.
"Got patched in to the Club a few days ago," he said. It didn't sound boastful. More of a statement of fact.
To Oliver, it sounded like a very big deal. Which it was. "Wow, that is cool. Congratulations." And without even thinking he patted his thigh. Then he quickly pulled it away.
Go slow, boy, he thought.
Logan seemed to pretend not to notice. "Yeah, it was a long time coming," he said. "I've worked hard to get it, It's not something that just gets handed out at a street corner. It is something that had to be earned."
They stopped at a red light, and he turned to look right at Oliver. "I like to earn my rewards," he said.
Oliver was a puddle. Logan's look, his smell, his closeness was starting to overwhelm him again.
And his interest in Oliver was most definitely a good sign. Wasn't it?
They smiled at each other. Oliver was speechless.
Then the light changed and they were moving again.
"How long have you been with the Club?" Naoh asked, genuinely interested but at the same time just happy to be talking with him.
"Years, and years. The Macabre Jesters have been around since forever, even before I was born. There as much a part of this town as anything else I know. And probably will long after I'm gone."
He could hear the pride in his voice. The Club meant a great deal to him. But was it all consuming? Gavin wallowed in his own membership of his Biker Club, the Silver Hounds. Something to flaunt, like his hot stripper boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend now.<
br />
Oliver pushed the thought of Gavin from his mind. Logan and Gavin were bikers, yeah. But when he looked over at Logan he felt something there he never had with Gavin.
Logan was no Gavin. Or so he hoped.
Suddenly, ahead of them a light was changing from yellow to red. Logan stepped on the gas, and sped through the intersection. Waiting at the front of the the oncoming lane was a police car.
Oliver held his breath as the cop looked over at them as they went by.
But nothing happened. They cop didn't turn on his lights or sirens to pursue them. Oliver couldn't help but giggle at this.
"They're not a problem," Logan said. Oliver sensed he shouldn't ask what he meant.
They arrived at the Hemlock Motel and pulled into the lot. Oliver pointed. "Room 7," he said.
"Lucky number," he said.
He pulled up along side his door and stopped. "You're home safely." He didn't put it in park. Wasn't making any assumptions.
Oliver found himself a little moved by this gentlemanly gesture from such a big bad biker. He knew right then and there that he wanted him to come into his room. Impulse, maybe. But more like a need. Oliver didn't want him to leave now. He may never see him again.
"Gotta go?" Naoh asked trying not to sound too desperate to keep him around.
"Yeah," he said. "Got business to attend to."
"How about just a quick drink? We can talk a little more."
Logan smiled, melting his heart. "A drink, huh? At ten in the morning? Well, why didn't you say so?"
Oliver laughed at this and got out. As Logan parked the camaro Oliver fumbled in his hand bag for his keys.
You know what you are doing? He thought to himself. This guy is insanely hot and all, but is this really what you want right now?
He watched Logan as he got out of his car and sauntered in his direction.
Yup, he thought. Yup, yup, yup.
Inside, the room looked like a disaster. Clothes everywhere. Bedding a mess.
"So much for room service," Logan said, eyeing thong underwear left hanging off the bathroom doorknob.
"You get what you pay for," Oliver said as he hurriedly shifted mountains of fabric around. "Here," he said pointing to a newly discovered chair. "Sit."
As Logan settled in Oliver grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed him one. "The last of their kind."
Oliver sat on the edge of the bed opposite him, trying valiantly not to stare at the large bulge in his jeans.
Sheesh, he thought. And that thing is at rest. He contented himself with sucking a few sips from his beer bottle, then asked, "So, Hot Rocks? Really? Who came up with that name?"
Logan grinned. "It's had several name changes over the years. Every time there was some violation or legal crap pops up and the joint can't be run under its name anymore, it gets re-branded completely. This time is Hot Rocks."
"What was it before?"
"Molten Rocks."
Oliver laughed. Funny guy. That's a major plus.
"Yeah," Logan said, "Rocks is practically my second home, if not my first now that I'm a full patch. The Club is there all the time. Every night, usually."
"I'm use to peeler bars, as you can probably tell by now. Been in and out of them for years, too," Oliver said.
Logan drank, too, but watched him intently. His gaze was like a hot sun, something for him to bask in and feel warm.
"Look," Logan said, leaning forward a little. His expression was a little more serious now. "We should talk about something first."
Oliver was all ears. "First?" he asked, a little baffled.
"Yeah, before we become better... friends."
Oliver almost choked on his drink. "Better friends than we already are? A little fast, don't you think?" He tried to sound playful, but it didn't seem to feel that way when he said it.
Logan's smile was firm. He was all business now, and Oliver stiffened a little.
Is this when the trouble starts? He thought to himself.
"No," Logan said. "I mean. You know who I am. What I am, right? You get that I'm not some ordinary citizen. I'm something else. Different. Being with the Club especially."
"Yeah," Oliver said. "I do. You're a biker. An outlaw. I'm familiar with your kind." He smiled and he was relieved to see it returned.
"I figured," Logan said, relaxing a little. "So you know I... we.... the Club have to be careful who we let into our little circle. Learn who we can trust. Even with just friends we hook up with occasionally."
Now Oliver felt his heart freeze in his chest. This was bad, now. Real bad. What was he really saying here?
Logan leaned forward more, crooked an eyebrow at him and said, "Are you a cop?"
Oliver suddenly burst into laughter, getting beer all over himself. "Oh, my God! No! Hell, no!" he shouted with relief.
Logan grinned, and even chuckled. "Okay, then. I believe you." He dropped him a wink and took a sip of his beer.
He's messing with me, Oliver thought in amusement. He knew if he really felt he was a cop, he wouldn't even be here.
Or maybe Oliver would be dead right now.
That last thought sobered his mood a little. Yet, his eyes were drawn to Logan's bulging crotch. This guy was made to wear jeans.
"Why," Oliver asked. "Do you normally share a beer with a cop who wants to strip for you?"
Logan's eyes lit up. "Strip for me, huh? Only the cute ones."
Oliver wasn't sure if the beer was fast acting, or he was just so relieved Logan really didn't think he was a cop, but he wanted this man. Right then and there.
Oliver stood. "I don't take my clothes off for just anyone, now, you hear me?" He strutted around a little. Wiggling his butt. Logan feasted on him with his eyes.
Oliver suddenly jumped onto his lap, startling Logan. "I'll only get naked for my hero." He straddled him in the chair, Logan's legs were wide and muscular causing him to stretch out more. Oliver was flexible.
Logan's put his bottle down on the table, and gripped his hips with his large hands. "Hero, huh? Why am I a hero?"
Oliver put his bottle down, too. He leaned in close to Logan. His smell, his musk, was intoxicating. He found he couldn't help himself anymore. "You saved me today. From that scumbag."
"Ah, right," Logan said, pulling Oliver in closer to him. Their muscular chests pressed hard against each other. "I forgot about that."
Oliver feigned a pout. "You forgot?" He wrapped his arms around Logan's head, ran a hand through the short hair at the back of his neck. "How can you forget?"
He chuckled, and for a moment his guard was down. Oliver saw the real him under that tough exterior. But then it was gone, his guard back up. "No, I forgot him. He's not even worth thinking about. But you certainly are."
Logan kissed him, and his mouth was hungrily waiting for him.
The practically devoured one another. Hot and passionate, tongues playing over each other, hands grasping and squeezing. For long minutes they did nothing but kiss, enjoying each other's taste. Playfully biting one another's lips. Seeking out bare flesh under loose clothing.
Oh, my God! Oliver allowed himself to think. When he could. He is delicious!
Just then a cell phone rang.
Oliver, tongue buried deep into Logan's mouth, seeking his tonsils, grunted with frustration.
The cell phone kept ringing.
This time Logan gently pushed Oliver back, their mouths unlocking for the first time in a while.
"Sorry," he said, a little out of breath. "I have to take this."
Trying not to pout too much, Oliver slipped off of Logan's lap and onto the bed. It was getting seriously hot in here.
Logan pulled a cell phone from his pocket, and answered simply, "Speak."
He listened for a few moments, but his eyes played over Oliver's body, then locked eyes with him.
Oliver felt himself melt even more.
Then Logan hung up, and frowned. He looked very disappointed. "I gotta run," he said. "Business.
" He said that word with a sense of finality. Like it was immutable, unquestionable.
"Okay," Oliver said. He was starting to feel deflated, but his heart was still hammering in his chest. "Maybe we can pick up where we left off, later?" It sounded very hopeful, but he didn't care. He meant it.
