Dad’s ragged coughs fill the room. I crane my neck to look up at his ruddy face and the red marks my hands left around his neck that was already bruised purple and yellow from the last time we went at this. I see my father for what he is: an angry, bitter old man desperate and clinging still to the power he once had over his son.
Johnson steps in front of me, crouching down and blocking my view. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“He’s got no right being in here.”
“Neither do you; you’re headed for the station.” He straightens, turning to my father and placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. “An ambulance is on its way, but I still have to cuff you.”
“Get the fuck off me,” Dad croaks, shoving Johnson away.
“Hands, Rob,” Johnson commands. “Don’t make me take you down to the ground because you won’t like the outcome.”
I’m hauled to my feet, and the daggers I shoot my father’s way miss their target completely when Will steps in front of me. “What the hell was that?”
“Fixing it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, North. This is a whole new level of crazy, even for you,” he says.
I wink. “You haven’t seen half of it. Hey, Dad?” My father’s livid gaze meets my own as Johnson slaps a pair of cuffs on his wrists in front of his body. “Fuck you!” I say, and lean forward, kissing Will’s lips. He’s completely thrown off-guard and pulls away. I can’t do shit with my hands cuffed behind my back so my eyes silently beg. After what seems like an eternity of waiting on a precipice, Will shakes his head, grabs my face, and pulls me towards him. I kiss him. In front of everyone, my homophobic father who’d rather see me dead than sporting a boner for another man included. I kiss Will as though my last breath depends on it.
Officer Wheeler yanks me back. “Okay you two, knock it off.”
Will laughs humourlessly. “We’re done here anyway.”
Wheeler propels me forward, but I turn my head and shout back to Will, “No we’re not. I’m coming for you, Tanner. The second I get out, and we’re gonna pick up right where we left off.”
He laughs. “I’ll get the bottle of Bundy ready then.”
“You bet your sweet fucking arse you will.”
I don’t struggle as the officer leads me toward the door, and I don’t meet any of the gazes staring holes into me on the way past, because for the first time in my life I don’t give a shit what they think of me.
Of us.
“Honey, I’m home,” Will hollers in his best Ricky Ricardo impersonation. I rifle frantically through the menu drawer—which is really just a place to store our junk with two menus, seeing as though the only takeout sold in Red Maine is overpriced Chinese and dodgy pizza.
“’Bout freaking time,” I say, slamming the drawer shut and raking my fingers through my hair. “I can’t find the menu for Wong’s.”
“They’re here already?”
I glare at him. “Yes, they’re here. You didn’t see the big fuck-off Jeep parked in the driveway?”
“I saw it.” Will grabs a beer from the fridge and twists the top. He wraps his lips around the opening and takes a long pull. His eyes don’t leave mine the entire time. Fucking cock-tease. “I was kinda hoping you’d bought me an early Christmas present.”
“Does it have a big red bow on it and a gift tag that reads Happy Christmas, Will?”
“No. But it’s kinda hard to wrap a Jeep.”
“I’ll wrap my hands around your neck in a minute,” I warn, opening the drawer a second time and rummaging through. “Now help me look for the menus.”
“I’d rather you wrapped them around my cock.” He snakes his hand up my back, and grasping long fingers around my neck, he pulls me into an upright position. “That can be your Christmas present. My cock, rock hard and wrapped up in a pretty red bow.”
I groan. This man is determined to kill me.
Will trails his wet tongue along my neck and sinks his teeth into my earlobe. I close my eyes and gasp as he cups my hard-on through my jeans and squeezes. He presses a kiss to my cheek and says, “The menu is on the fridge, dumbarse.”
My eyes snap open, and I turn to glare at the refrigerator behind us. Sure enough, the folded tattered menu with bold red writing declaring Wong’s Chinese Takeaway hangs there, mocking me. “Motherfucker.”
“Where would you be without me?” he asks, leaning in to kiss my cheek again.
“Here. Alone. Not eating Wong’s,” I deadpan. Will sniggers as he heads out onto the back patio to greet our guests.
He hugs Josh, a full bear hug, and though I really like the guy, I still find it hard to accept the fact that this is a man Will has had his dick in. I know that the surly emo bastard loves me, and I know he’s definitely not going anywhere, so the green-eyed monster never lingers for too long. Besides, if anyone’s going to get jealous, Will should probably avoid over half the women in town.
Brad glances up from his phone just long enough to tip his chin in greeting in the universal language of teen douchery. It still baffles me what the hell Josh sees in him. He’s okay—a little abrasive, lacking a few brain cells, and thinking seems to be a new thing for him—but according to Josh’s oversharing tendencies, he’s a great lay, and up for anything, anytime, several times a day, so who the hell are we to argue?
I grab the menu from the fridge and call Wong’s. Victoria answers, “Hey North, how are you?”
“I’m good, Vi. You?”
“Can’t complain; no one will listen.” She lets out a nervous little laugh and says, “So, the usual?” We normally order enough food for a small army, but tonight I add extra spring rolls, a few other dishes, and another two fortune cookies. “You boys must be extra hungry tonight?”
“Nope. We’re having people over.”
“Well, this should be on your doorstep in a half hour. You boys have fun.”
“We will.”
I hang up, smiling like a fucking tool because despite all the shit we went through, and all of the things I was afraid of, those fears amounted to nothing. Sure, we still have douchebags who turn away when we walk down the street. No one says shit to me at work now that Smithy’s resigned and I’ve been promoted to millwright, because they know they’d get their arses fired, but I know they’re still talking about me when my back is turned. And I don’t give a rat’s arse. Let them exist in their ignorant hate-filled little hetero world; I don’t care. Because this is the love of a lifetime, thirty years in the making, and even if it only lasts another week, I know I’ll never love anyone again the way I love Will. I’ll deal with whatever bigotry I have to. I’ll walk through a legion of men like my father raining down their hateful words and their pathetic insults, and I’ll beat back all the wolves for him, for us.
And speaking of my father, there has been a trial—actually there’s been two. I’d had an exceptionally clever lawyer; my father had not.
Josh got me off on a technicality. Because of the torment I’d endured as a child at my father’s hands, and the stress of the attack on Will, I’d suffered a mental break. I’d snapped. Reverted back to my inner child and attempted to defend myself, not understanding my strength as a fully-grown man. This had been Josh’s closing argument, and the doctor that he’d called to the stand to testify had backed his claims. Personally, I think I snapped because I got tired of dealing with all my father’s bullshit, but if I’m honest with myself, Josh’s words weren’t far from the truth.
I’d been unhappy for a very long time, and it was more than just denying my attraction to Will. It was rooted far deeper than that. I’d never felt worthy of anything or anyone. I’d never felt valid, or like I was here for a reason. Hell, I’d never even felt like a real goddamn person.
My mother had suffered depression all her life. She’d had help; she’d been prescribed pills and seen a psychiatrist, but in the end she’d taken her own life anyway. That wasn’t the life I wanted. Will deserved better. I deserved better. I’d taken m
yself off to a real doctor and I’d gotten the help I’d been needing for a very long time.
I’d also been forced to attend anger-management meetings and do one hundred hours of community service. I didn’t mind either of those things. The community service had been picking up trash along the beaches of Red Maine; it was quiet, done with quickly, and it gave me time to think. I still attend the anger-management meetings in Valentine every Tuesday because I happen to like that bunch of angry, narcissistic fuckers.
Dad, Rooster, Dan and Tommo didn’t get off so easy. All of them are serving time for what they did to Will, and though the judge was a lot more lenient on Smithy, his wife wasn’t. Rachel kicked him out, and I’ve heard he moved to Whitebridge. I don’t give a shit where he is as long as he never comes near me and Will again.
I grab another beer and head out onto the deck, sitting beside Will. We talk, and as usual, we all drink too much. By the time the food arrives, Will’s shitfaced and can’t keep his hands off me. We eat; and Josh and Brad tell us all about their plans for their vacation to Mexico. They invite us along, and for a half-second I entertain the idea, but I have no desire to go anywhere with these two. I like hanging out with Josh, and I owe him a lot, but if we leave the country on a holiday, I want it to just be me and Will. I want tequila, and fucking in the warm white sand, and I want that man all to myself.
I decide then and there that Christmas should be in Mexico. Trev has Sal, and we’d more than likely just crash their place since neither Will or I can cook. I make a mental note to call the travel agent in the morning.
After what feels like an eternity, Josh and Brad get up to leave. We say goodbye at the door, and the second it’s closed Will leans against it. “Oh, thank fuck. I thought they’d never leave.”
“Me too. You touching my cock midway through dinner just about undid me.”
“You know we can hear you, right?” Josh’s booming voice resonates through my front door.
Will says, “Yeah, dumbarse, we know. Now get the hell off my front porch so I can finally fuck my boyfriend.”
“Come ’ere.” I pull Will to me and bring my mouth down on his. I suck his bottom lip between my teeth and bite down, eliciting a moan.
“Oh fuck, I love it when you do that. It drives me crazy.” His hands are everywhere, clawing at my shirt, my jeans, desperate to get closer. I love that after all this time, he still has the stamina and the urgency of a fucking eighteen-year-old.
“I know,” I say, and do it again.
“I need you to fuck me.”
“Oh, I plan to.” I walk him backward through the hall, breaking our kiss only long enough for him to shed his shirt and then mine. I kick the stools away from the breakfast bar, relishing the destruction as they clatter to the white tile. He hits the kitchen bench and I take hold of his waist and spin him around, grasping his neck and shoving him over the countertop. I unbutton my jeans with one hand, and he yanks down his as if he can’t do it fast enough.
I lean over, pressing my weight against his back as I maul his neck with my hot mouth, licking, biting and sucking my way over his flesh, tasting cologne and the salt on his skin, that delicious flavour that’s only man. This man. Will fucking Tanner.
My Will fucking Tanner.
And I want the whole damn world to know it.
Love hot Aussie rock stars?
Read an excerpt from
Book one in Carmen Jenner’s bestselling Taint Series.
My vision is partly obstructed by Ali, but the sight of her head bobbing as she takes him in her mouth is all I need to know what’s going on. Levi meets my gaze across the limo. There’s gloating there—that much is obvious—but there’s also understanding. When you spend as much time together as we do, you come to know your band mates pretty well, and for all his talk, he’s not as big of a douche as he claims to be. He may not ever sleep with the same woman more than once—with the exception of Ali, I guess—but I know he’s not immune to the loneliness our lifestyle creates. It’s strange how you can be adored by millions and yet completely alone all at the same time.
He slides his hand into her hair and closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the seat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, and then he gathers her hair to the side and shifts her body so that my view is completely unobstructed. I watch as she works her hands up his shaft in time with her mouth. He doesn’t attempt to fuck the back of her throat and make her choke on it, the way we both had that first night we fucked her. Instead, his touch is gentle. Reverent.
It makes me crazy, and hot as fucking hell. I shift uncomfortably, adjusting my cock within my jeans. I don’t make a move towards them, though I want to. I want to bury myself inside her and mark her as mine, but at this point the lines are so fucking blurred it doesn’t matter whom she belongs to. Him. Me. The both of us, or neither one.
I lean forward, taking a glass from the shelf and a crystal decanter filled with amber liquor, and I pour myself a drink. Then I slide back into the leather to watch.
“Play with yourself, Red,” Levi whispers.
“No.”
“Do it,” I say, and she turns around to glare at me. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed I’m not joining in, or if she forgot I was even here.
“I don’t want—”
“Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?” I say sharply, swigging back more of the scotch than I should.
“I’m not embarrassed. I’d actually rather that you joined in.”
“I’m watching,” I say, eyeing her coolly over my glass. She scowls at me a moment and then she kneels up, steadying herself with one hand on Levi’s thigh. She wriggles her skirt up over her hips and bends over. Everything is on display as she takes him in her mouth again. I close my eyes, not wanting to watch her on her knees in front of him. Her head is bent low, her full fuck-me lips wrapped around Levi’s cock. I feel as if I’m on a ride that’s spinning out of control, and I can’t find a way off. I can’t make it stop. And I so badly want it to stop.
“When are you gonna let me fuck her, Coop?” he asks. I don’t know why he’s asking, though, the question I want to know is: why hasn’t he already? He’s done everything else. Hell, he even did that before I did, so why does he need my permission?
“That’s up to her,” I say, and a slow grin spreads across Levi’s face. I swallow back the rest of my drink. It burns all the way down, and then it sits in my stomach like battery acid in the bottom of a rusted-out old car. I lean over and pour another drink, swallowing down half of it in one go.
“Red?” Levi asks, but she’s staring at me with her teeth buried in her bottom lip, as if she’s waiting for my approval.
“What does it matter at this point?” I ask her, because even though I don’t want him inside her, it’s still a valid question. Her eyes blaze with anger. She’s not happy with my response; she’s pissed.
She turns her attention back to Levi and nods, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t keep them closed for long though, especially not when he strips her bare and pulls her into his lap, bending her over backwards. Levi lifts her, supporting her weight and grasping her hips tightly. His mouth is on her cunt, eating her out as she stares at me.
Blood has rushed to her head, and her hair spreads out on the floor of the limo like a crown of wildfire. She’s a fucking siren, twisting and arching both into and away from his touch. I want to write a score over the expanse of her creamy white skin. I can smell her and it’s driving me insane not to have her in my mouth. It’s making me crazy to watch him have her, and yet I won’t do anything about it, because what the hell can I do?
This wasn’t supposed to happen, and I wasn’t supposed to give her my heart. I promised myself I wouldn’t lose my head, but now my word is shot to shit. I’m screwed either way, and I only have myself to blame for it.
Read other books by Carmen Jenner
Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY and international bestselling author of
the Sugartown, Savage Saints, and Taint series.
Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU 2015.
A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore MAC addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny north coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.
A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?
Stay up to date with Carmen’s latest works at: http://www.carmenjenner.com
Holy hell was this book a rollercoaster ride for me. Yeesh! As I stumble my way off the platform and back to reality feeling like I just stepped off the set of the Exorcist, I have a few lovely people to thank who helped bring this book to life.
To my darling non-husband Ben, you are my EVERYTHING! Read my damn books already!
Ava Rose and Ari Danger, I love you more than the sun, and more than the stars, and more than the moon, and more than mars, and WAY MORE THAN … CHICKENS!
To my gorgeous family both blood and extended, I LOVE YOU! Mum, thanks for the babysitting.
To my beautiful beta readers Kristine from Glass Paper Ink Bookblog and Ali from Black Heart Reviews, you girls rock my face off with your support. You two help me be a better writer. Don’t ever leave me, because I will find you.
Lauren McKellar (#McStellar), thanks for McStellarising my words, again, for fitting me in, again, and working around our ridiculous schedules, again. Thanks for the encouragement, the sprints, the critiquing, and for always making me grin like a madwoman during the editing process.
Finding North Page 19
