by Zoey Marcel
“Yeah.” Turning, he halted when the little guy tugged on his arm.
“Please don’t tell Malachi. It was just one time. I don’t want him to hate me.”
“Don’t you think he has a right to know what you’re doing?”
Sean looked miserable. “I know I shouldn’t fool around, but I’m still a virgin.”
Heath rolled his eyes and looked the other way before meeting the younger man’s pleading gaze. “You do realize that oral sex is still sex, right?”
“I know, but I haven’t been penetrated yet. When I am it’ll be with the one I love.”
“When you’re penetrated?”
Sean’s pupils dilated and he backpedaled. “I…I meant when I penetrate someone…a woman.”
“That’s not what you said.” Heath folded his arms, not sure why he was enjoying this so much.
Apparently sibling rivalry didn’t always end with blood relations.
“It was a mistake,” Sean whispered.
“You’re gay, aren’t you?”
He shook his head, rolling his lips inward as his eyes welled.
Shit. He’s gonna cry, isn’t he?
“I think you are,” Heath said gently.
That was all it took. Sean fell to his knees and clung to his hand like he was beseeching a king. It was a good thing they were behind an old building in a secluded part of town. If people had seen some poor kid in tears entreating him, it would have been humiliating for them both.
“Please don’t say anything!”
Heath looked around to double-check that they were alone. The young man with the happy cock had evidently driven away. It pissed Heath off that the putz had just taken off like that without making sure Sean was okay. He had run after Heath in a frenzy and had obviously been distressed. The greedy fuck hadn’t cared about Sean. He’d just used him to get his rocks off.
Selfish bastard.
“I won’t do it again. I just wanted to help him out. He said his cock was hurting.”
Heath almost laughed at this, but Sean’s constant stream of tears kept him from doing so. “Sean, get up.”
“Malachi can’t know. He’s so wonderful. I never want to disappoint him. Please don’t tell him.”
The little guy squalled on his hand, making him uncomfortable.
“Sean, it’s okay. I’m not—”
“I can’t disappoint my da either. He wants me to be straight. And Malachi…” Sean cried harder, this time sobbing on his pants leg.
Now this was really awkward.
Heath patted his head. “I don’t care if you’re gay.”
“But you’ll…tell everyone…like you did with…Heller.”
The words slashed him through the heart. It was his only real regret in life. Every other mistake he could overlook with the advantage of having learned from his screw-ups. But outing Heller Enos was something he would never forgive himself for. It cut him to pieces inside to think that there was a good chance that somewhere out there Heller hated him and would never forgive him.
Heath petted Sean’s head, this time in consolation rather than a “there, there” pat. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve changed a lot.”
Sean was too hysterical to hear him, or he wasn’t listening. “I’ll do anything. I can give you money or laud you to your father and everyone I come across.”
As flattering as that was—
Heath freaked when Sean reached for his belt buckle. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m desperate.”
“No shit. Get up and have some self-respect.”
“What do you want? I’ll do anything.”
“What did I just say?”
Sean’s head drooped.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
He gaped up at him. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m not. I don’t give a fuck if you’re gay. I was never antigay. I just had to pretend to be to gain my father’s approval. I’m over it. Fuck whoever you want. Love whoever you want. Just please, for the love of Christ, get up off the ground and quit bawling all over me.”
Sean grinned from ear to ear as he hopped up and then flung his arms around Heath’s middle. “You’re the best, lad. I thought you were gonna out me like an asshole.”
Heath frowned. “Well, if you insult me…”
“Sorry. You’re a great guy.”
He hugged Sean back. “That’s better. You still living with my dad?”
Sean pulled back slowly and nodded, soggy eyes light with emotion. He sucked in a shaky inhale that would have given away the fact that he’d just gotten done crying a lot even if his saturated cheeks and eyes hadn’t.
“I’ve got to go visit him after this. You want to grab a bite to eat, or did you fill up already?” Heath nodded toward the direction the vehicle had been, taunting him with a crooked smirk.
Sean blushed. “I spat it out into a napkin I had down there with me.”
His face got pinker after saying that.
Heath grinned and shook his head. “I didn’t ask for details. I will say good job, though. He seemed like he was having a good time.”
Sean cocked a sideways smile. “I’m good at what I do.”
Heath smirked and draped an arm over his shoulders as they walked away together. “What do you say we change this awkward subject?”
Sean’s cheeks flushed a bit, followed by a tiny snicker. “I agree. Thanks for not saying anything. I couldn’t bear to disappoint my da or yours.”
“You bet.”
Heath knew the feeling—pretending to be someone he wasn’t to win his father’s favor. He knew all too well, and it was perhaps another reason why he would never betray Sean’s secret to anybody. He’d been in the younger man’s shoes at close to that age, slightly younger. Unfortunately, the person who had caught him making out with Heller while the biker had ground his groin against Heath’s through their clothes hadn’t been so understanding.
* * * *
Danielle shook her head. “Don’t you think we’re a little old for this?”
“Maybe you are, but I’m in my prime,” Brighton teased as he donned his blue wig.
Her eyes narrowed on him in a playful scowl. “I’m not old.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her, throwing a naughty grin her way. “Then prove it. Get your pink freak on, woman.”
Tittering, she put the hot-pink wig on. It was about the same length as her natural hair, maybe an inch or so longer. She pinned her hair up underneath so the wig would look better on her and fit her properly.
“Having a punk-looking hottie by my side will be way better than doing this alone or with one of the guys. You look sexy as hell.”
“You’re sweet. You look pretty hot, too, but I can’t take you seriously with midriff showing.”
He laughed. “I know. It’s not my style, but we’re going for scandal here. We’ve got to get the people in Stone River staring and talking. I’m gonna fuck you in public.”
“Not in that town you’re not. We’ll get arrested if we’re caught.”
He stepped closer to her, making her woozy and impassioned when the youthful, sporty essence of his masculine cologne flooded her nostrils.
“So don’t get caught,” he whispered inches from her lips.
The skin prickled for contact that wasn’t forthcoming. With a sassy grin, he denied her and pulled away.
“You hot tease.”
He chortled. “Come on. The town awaits us.”
After a brief drive, Brighton parked at the edge of Stone River and then they walked through town together, hand in hand and raising eyebrows.
“This is awkward,” she gritted out through a cheerleader smile.
Brighton’s grin appeared genuine, like he was having the time of his life. “It totally is for them. Watch this.” He put his hand on someone’s shoulder. “See you at church, brother.”
The person scanned him head to toe, looking confused.
Brighton walked o
n with Danielle.
“You’re the Loki in your family, aren’t you?” she quipped.
He chuckled. “Yep. This is my last crazy adventure before I man up and get married.”
Her heart ached through the smile. “Brighton…”
He took her by the hand, around the corner of the building, and then pushed her up against the side, snagging a gentle kiss from her. Reason went out the window. Marriage and all it entailed sounded especially sublime in spite of the dangers posed by her staying in South Dakota.
“Stop trying to cloud my judgment.”
Brighton gave her another heart-stopping crooked grin as he sank to his knees in front of her. “I’m just getting started.”
“What are you doing?”
“Never been eaten out, huh? Prepare yourself.”
She smirked, giving him a phony glare. “I know what you’re about to do, but what if someone sees?”
“Sees the punks getting it on? Gosh, I’d better restrain myself.” His sarcasm was followed by inaction.
She relaxed. “Thank you.”
He raised the hem of her skirt, his pitch becoming low and husky. “Or you could just come quickly.”
“Brighton, you’re crazy!” She felt and saw him move her panties aside. “Aahh!”
His petal-soft lips imprinted a delicate kiss on her bare labia. Her juices fired, sex pulsing for more from his wonderful mouth. He stuck his head under her denim miniskirt and held her undies aside while he peppered tender kisses on her smooth mons.
“God, Brighton. That feels so good. Hurry up before someone sees.”
“You get my tongue when I’m ready to give it to you, baby. The bossier you get, the more I torture you. You don’t want me to leave you aching, do you?”
Lord, he was fabulous.
“No.” Her breathing picked up. “Do what you want. Just please don’t let anybody see.”
He spoke in between seasoning her slit with gentle kisses. “I think it would be pretty hot if someone saw us.”
She moaned, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back gently against the side of the building. They were in a small-town version of an alley. It offered a vague cloak of privacy without the “I’m gonna frigging die” factor of some major cities.
Splaying her fingers in his hair, she fondled his scalp, enjoying the wet lines his tongue licked on her outer lips. When he traced the seam of her pussy in a slick, sensual sweep with his tongue, her fingers combed through his hair faster.
“Brighton, stop teasing me,” she pleaded.
The fear factor of getting caught was high, but it fueled her arousal all the more, beat down the worry with feminine want that demanded satisfaction, the consequences be damned.
“Are you hot for me, baby?” he murmured against her naked cunt.
A breathy cry escaped her when his tongue dipped briefly into her folds for a taste. It retreated, denying her.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I need it, you.”
“My tongue?” He dragged the slippery muscle through her moist sex lips.
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still shut. She peeked occasionally to be sure no one saw them in the raunchy act.
“Here?” He split her vulva apart and lapped lightly at her cream, making her private flesh tingle with forbidden urges.
“Yes.”
“In your pussy?” He stabbed his tongue into her channel, stealing a muffled shriek from her.
An elated sigh followed, evaporating into the cool twilight air. Hot nectar sluiced over his thirsty tongue, coating him in juicy evidence of her depravity. He drove her crazy.
After a few thorough oral fucks up into her quivering cunt, his tongue skimmed through her folds.
“Here?”
Light pressure resulted when the flat of his amazing tongue pushed gently against her pulsating clitoris.
“Yes,” she begged.
A few lazy circles worked her up before he lashed at her clit ruthlessly with his tongue, demanding her surrender.
She rocked against his face, submitting her soaked pussy to his hungry mouth. He laved her hard and fast with just the right speed and pressure in her aroused state to get her off almost immediately. A soft cry of pleasure strangled in her throat. She writhed helplessly against the building in the alley, grinding against his skilled mouth. Her vagina clutched at nothing, exploding with heat and dampness as the violent, pleasurable tremors shook through her defeated body.
When she opened her eyes, she froze, nearly having a heart attack when she saw two men passing by the all-too-short-and-wide alley. One of them was Malachi Brodie and the other was Heath.
Blushing hard, she yanked Brighton’s head out from under her skirt. Adrenaline pulsed through her while the final traces of her orgasm fluttered inside her, womb vibrating with wanton knowledge.
Heath gawked at this, seeming as shocked to see her as she was to see him.
Malachi shook his head, a distinct look of revulsion written on his seasoned face. “The world is getting more debauched every day. Come, Son.”
Heath’s shock broke and an almost guilty vulnerability replaced it before some of the disgust that had been on the older man’s face appeared on his as well. He followed Malachi away.
What must he think of her?
Even more astonishing, Heath was the son of Malachi Brodie—a fact he hadn’t bothered to enlighten her of when she’d been bitching about the hostile preacher to him. His underhandedness and her own lewdness sent a flurry of mixed feelings through her. She wanted to smack herself for being an exhibitionist slut. Hadn’t she put that behind her?
Moreover, she wanted to slap Heath for withholding the truth from her.
Chapter Five
Sean Friel sat in the coffee shop in McKenna Downs, waiting for Da. He smiled and waved at his friend Brighton McAlister when the guy walked over with an attractive blonde lass on his arm.
“Sean, dude, what’s up?” Brighton approached him with the young woman.
“I’m just waiting for my da to show up. We’re gonna have coffee together. You’re welcome to sit with me until he gets here.”
“Hell yeah, we will. Ladies first.” Brighton stepped aside and gestured with his hand so his girl could seat herself.
“Thank you, sir.”
Brighton grinned and seated himself next to her. “Check out this dame I nabbed. Her name is Danielle. Isn’t that right, baby?”
She smiled. “You’re cute. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. This is Sean. He’s a good guy. Just don’t fall for him because of his Irish accent.”
“Scottish,” Sean corrected him.
Danielle smiled and shook his hand. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“What do you mean you’re Scottish?” Brighton sat back in his seat with his eyebrows quirked and a derpy look on his cute face. “You talk about Ireland sometimes.”
“My da’s Irish and my mam was Scottish. I’ve lived in both places, but the accent is Scottish.”
“I could tell,” Danielle said.
“No, you couldn’t,” Brighton teased. “You were as confused as I was.”
“Nobody’s as confused as you are, sweetie.”
“Hey.”
Sean found their banter adorable and it made him miss the one his heart loved.
“Does your dad live in this town, too?” Danielle asked politely.
“No. I live in Stone River and he lives in Rapid City. He works here in McKenna Downs, though.”
“No kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever met your dad. Who is he?” Brighton asked.
“Aiden Friel,” Sean replied.
“Holy damn, that hottie?” Brighton’s grin turned sheepish at Danielle’s playful, accusing scowl. “Is what a woman would say.”
Sean wrinkled his nose, managing a crooked smile. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“I think it’s sweet that you guys are having a father-so
n coffee date,” Danielle said.
“Thanks,” Sean replied quietly, eyes dropping to the table and the paper napkin he toyed aimlessly with.
“What’s wrong?” Brighton asked, waving the barista over with their morning coffees. After she set them down and he passed Danielle’s to her and took his, he arched his eyebrows in question.
Sean hesitated. “My da wants me to go to school in New York.”
“As long as he’s paying.” Brighton blew on his latte.
“He’s paying, but the money isn’t really the issue.”
Danielle appeared curious. “You don’t want to go to college?”
Sean licked his lips and homed in on his napkin. He couldn’t tell Da the truth, nor was he able to breathe a word to the object of his affection. But he had to tell someone. He couldn’t keep this in any longer.
“I don’t want to leave this state because I’m in love.”
Danielle smiled sweetly at him. “Aw.”
Brighton looked curious and high-fived him. “Hey, man, good for you. Who is she?”
Sean drew in a shaky breath. “It’s not a she.”
“Aw,” came the female reply.
“Well, well.” An eyebrow waggling came from his male friend. “Do tell.”
“It’s someone out of my league,” Sean answered sadly.
“Pfft. Not even. Look at you, man. You’re young, you’re cute, you’ve got a sexy accent, and you’re a crapload of fun. What guy wouldn’t want you?”
Danielle gave him a pretend glare again.
“What? I didn’t say I wanted him.” Brighton gestured toward himself and then back at Sean. “I’m just saying men who swing that way would.”
“Uh-huh. Do I need to get you a man for Christmas?” she joked.
Brighton waved her off. “Oh, drink your coffee, woman.”
He grinned when she lightly slapped his arm. Both turned to him again.
Sean’s palms became clammy when he imagined telling Da about his feelings for a man. Nope, couldn’t go there. He had to tell someone. Brighton would be fine with it. This girl seemed pretty sweet and understanding, too.
“I’m in love with a preacher.”
“Aw.”
“Not to rain on your parade or anything, but the ones here in town are married…to women,” Brighton said.
