Road of No Return (gay outlaw biker MC romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  Zak groaned, sprawled on top of the hood, with those powerful hips slapping against him like a machine. A warm, gentle tongue sliding over Zak’s ear did it for him. He came with a growl he could only describe as animalistic, thrashing under his partner as waves of heat first took him to the peak, and then sent him crashing into pleasant calm. It was like diving in a deep, warm ocean, with Stitch still penetrating him like a piston.

  “Best… fucking… ass!” Stitch growled, coming soon after, right into Zak’s tender ass. Zak loved how it felt to squeeze around that hot rod inside him. Stitch grabbed his hips so hard it hurt, but by now, Zak couldn’t care less. It was glorious.

  “Pump it in, baby,” whispered Zak, reaching back to caress Stitch’s hip. He smiled, imagining that they were doing it bare. He hardly remembered how that felt.

  “Oh, fuck.” Stitch pushed in one more time. “I could come again right now.”

  Zak gasped into the blanket, keeping his body still. His hole felt a bit numb and tender, but it just made him smile with satisfaction. “That good?”

  “Yes, I don’t know how I lived without it,” Stitch whispered, planting kisses on Zak’s neck.

  Zak swallowed hard, relaxing into the hood. He didn’t want to rush Stitch, it felt far too good to be under him. “You got really good at this,” he eventually whispered.

  “I want to make you never want to leave from under me.” Stitch gave him one more kiss before finally pushing himself up. Stitch had no idea he had already reached his goal, but Zak was a reasonable man, and he wouldn’t make teenage-worthy promises or declarations. Life didn’t work that way in his world.

  Instead, he reached back with his hand without yet looking up. He was heavy with lazy, sweet exhaustion.

  “What’s this?” Stitch chuckled and pulled on his fingers.

  “Nothing. Just wanted to touch you,” muttered Zak, slowly turning his head and sprawling his cheek on the blanket to look back. He took a deep breath when Stitch pulled out his cock, leaving him boneless.

  “You can touch me whenever you want.” Stitch smiled at him with his eyelids lowered. He was the picture of satisfaction.

  Zak snorted and pulled on Stitch’s hand, getting to his feet. He didn’t want to think about the bad blood left over from the spying. Or the broken window. “That’s handy.”

  Stitch got rid of the condom and stroked Zak’s ass with a lazy grin.

  Zak sighed, looking at the large hand on his asscheek. “You know how to make a man feel special.”

  “Are we good?” Stitch slid his fingers between Zak’s slippery buttocks. Heat rushed to Zak’s head, and he leaned on Stitch, breathing in the warm scent of his skin as the gentle fingers rubbed his tender entrance. Just what he needed after that rough ending.

  “I still don’t have a porch railing, and the window replacement was expensive,” muttered Zak, holding on to him.

  Standing so close, he could hear Stitch swallow. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Is Versay all right? I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  Zak exhaled, sliding his hand under the cut. “I think he misses you a bit. You know, you have more patience for rolling around on the floor.”

  Stitch nodded and embraced Zak with his beefy arms. “I know, sometimes I just lose it. Sorry.”

  “If you want us to be good, you can’t spy on me, or trash my stuff.” Zak rested his head on Stitch’s shoulder and looked at the blanket, which was still wet from his come.

  Stitch hugged him so tight he almost picked him up. “I won’t. I’ll be a good boy.” He kissed Zak’s ear.

  Zak couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, right. Trouble–that’s what you are.”

  “It’s like a dog’s name.” Stitch snorted and started pulling up his pants.

  Zak leaned his ass on the hood behind him, and whistled, suppressing the wide smile that threatened to stop him. It was true, Stitch was like a possessive dog.

  “I’m a Hound, not a dog.” Stitch glared at him as he buckled up his pants.

  Chapter 12

  “But Daddy, Mr. Parrot needs a home as well,” Holly made the saddest eyes at Stitch as they sat on the carpet in her room. Stitch had already created a whole wall-based doll house for his daughter for her last birthday, but it looked like it only made her appetite grow. Crystal shouldn’t have gotten her that parrot plushie.

  “Can’t he sit there, with the bears?” He walked up to the shelf and tapped his fingers on it.

  She shook her blonde curls with a pout. “No, he has too many colors. Bears don’t like that.”

  It looked like he was making a bird cage in the foreseeable future. “So what color would go with the parrot’s feathers?”

  Holly’s blue eyes lit up and she jumped in place, twisting the front of her bike-print T-shirt. “Gold and silver! He’s got expensive taste.”

  Stitch laughed out loud and stroked her hair. “His wish is my command.”

  Holly laughed and rushed to hug his leg with a wide smile. “Daddy?”

  “What’s up, sweetie?” He poked her nose.

  She reached her arms up and jumped in place, a well-known sign she wanted to be picked up. Stitch fulfilled the request without complaint and hugged her close. She smelled of the bubblegum deodorant he got her last week. “You can’t go on my bike yet, you know that?”

  “I know, but I wanted to ask about something else,” she said, pulling on a strand of his hair.

  “Go on.” Stitch held her up higher, so she could reach his ear.

  Her thick fingers curled around his ear, and she whispered, “When will I have a second mommy?”

  Stitch stiffened and hugged her tight. “Why would you want another mommy, Greedy Holly?” he asked, trying to turn it into a joke, even though the question stabbed him right in the chest.

  Holly groaned. “Because second daddy’s not much fun, and with a new mommy, me and the two mommies could have beauty days, and watch My Little Pony, and bake cupcakes...”

  “You don’t wanna watch ponies with me?” He rocked her slightly in his arms. Stitch knew more about My Little Pony than he would ever agree to admit.

  Holly frowned. “Yeah. Can I paint your face?”

  “Not today, I’m going out soon. But we can do it on Saturday, yeah?” Stitch kissed her forehead and put her down. “Be good.”

  Holly groaned, but nodded and hugged Mr. Parrot. “Are you going to work?”

  “Yeah, gotta have money to buy that gold and silver for the expensive tastes of your parrot.” Stitch pulled on one of her curls before walking to the door.

  “Bye, Daddy!” shouted Holly before returning to her toys.

  Stitch waved at her and walked down the corridor, ready to go downstairs, but stopped at Crystal’s door when he heard sniffing from the inside. With the background of Holly talking in character voices from her bedroom, it didn’t feel right.

  He knocked on Crystal’s door, since he knew Milton wasn’t in today. With the fridge recently moved out of the kitchen, maybe he could sneak something out.

  All sound stopped, and only after several seconds, she invited him in. She’d kept the master bedroom, but with Stitch moved to the former guest room, she’d made it into a larger, more elaborate version of the one she had as a teenager. That is, before Stitch got her pregnant at seventeen. With velvety drapes, leopard print upholstery, and a large dressing table with a well lit mirror, the room was a boudoir on a budget.

  Crystal was sitting cross-legged on her king-sized bed, with a box of tissues by her side, and a book in her hand, even though it was too dark to read. Her wavy hair was tied into a messy bun on top of her head, but she looked natural and pretty in the black capri pants and a wide-necked white T-shirt.

  “Does Holly want me?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “No, she’s fine.” Stitch leaned against the door frame, uneasy about entering her space. “I was just… I’m going out soon, and I kinda… Are you all right?”

  Crystal exhaled, and her Adam’s apple bobbed
ever so slightly. “Why would you ask?”

  “Come on, Crys, your eyes are as red as your hair.” He shifted his weight, worried he’d done something wrong again, and it was his fault somehow that she was upset.

  Crystal looked at the book, and suddenly knocked it off to the comforter. “It’s nothing, really. We’re still working some things out with Milton. It’s harder when you’re older, you know.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Is he being an ass or something?”

  “It’s just… about boundaries in a relationship. I’m used to doing things differently than he is.” Crystal took a deep long breath and started twisting the flesh on her forearm.

  “What do you mean? What kind of boundaries? You know you can tell me if he’s doing something off? I’d take care of it.” With a nice set of signets on his knuckles. As much as Crystal knew exactly how to piss him off, she was the mother of his child, and Stitch didn’t want to see her hurt any more than she was by their marriage. She was family. No fucking Milton was allowed to hurt his family.

  She stared at him, unblinking, but eventually leaned forward and shrugged. “He has this side job, photographing alternative girls for a website. Some of those photos are nude, and I’m just...” She bit her lip, staring into space, “I don’t know, jealous. We had a fight about it earlier today.”

  Stitch looked at his own feet, trying not to think too much about how he’d found out Crystal was cheating on him. “Yeah, I suppose you don’t want the person you love to do shit like that,” he mumbled.

  Crystal flinched, pulled out a new tissue, and put it against her face. “I’m sorry. It wasn't working between us, but I should have broken up with you first.”

  “I wish it had worked out, you know, for Holly’s sake.” Stitch sighed and rubbed his forehead. It felt strange to actually have a conversation with Crystal that didn’t involve throwing plates.

  Crystal sighed. “Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it? I still want to make this family work. I know you love Holly more than anything,” she said, raising her eyes at him.

  “Yeah. I won’t bail on you and Holly. If Milton gives you more shit, let me know, yeah?” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  Crystal smiled and looked away again. “You’re a good guy, Stitch.”

  “You remember that next time I steal your burgers.” He couldn’t help a smile.

  Crystal chuckled and slowly got up from the bed. “If you pay for your part of the groceries, I can just cook more, and some of it will be yours. Does that sound all right?”

  “Babe, that sounds amazing.” Stitch exhaled with a wider smile. Were they actually coming to an agreement after so many months of constant fighting?

  Crystal stepped closer and slid her arms around him, resting her red head against his chest. It felt oddly familiar, and on the other hand, it was not. She was tiny, nothing like Zak’s tall, firm body, but it felt good to hold her in his arms after so many months.

  She slid out of them all too soon. “Get ‘em, Tiger,” she said with a smile and gently kicked the side of his calf. The roar of engines downstairs was loud through the open window.

  “I’m counting on those burgers.” He gave her butt a sneaky pat and rushed downstairs. The nice afternoon with Holly and the prospective of being friends with Crystal again were a nice touch before setting foot in shit deeper than ever before.

  When he opened the door, Captain and Gator were already waiting outside.

  “Yo, you ready?” asked Gator, leaning forward on his bike, without even a trace of worry on his face.

  “Yep, let’s do this.” Stitch nodded and walked over to the garage where he stashed the two pounds of coke he was responsible for. All three of them had one of those packets, but they were making the trip to their contact together for increased security. If this worked out, each one of them would be making five thousand, so the stakes were high.

  Gator had orchestrated all this, and he seemed so proud of it, he’d be smoking a cigar if he weren’t driving. “Boys, we have a long way ahead of us, we can’t let Smoke wait,” he said and made his engine roar.

  Captain grinned at Stitch from behind his goggles. “Apparently, we’ll need gas masks not to get lung cancer.”

  “I’ll manage.” Stitch shook his head and zipped up his jacket with the drugs tucked under his T-shirt in two sealed plastic bags. “Let’s make this quick.”

  He jumped on his bike, and soon they left town, sliding farther and farther away, chasing the setting sun. Gator skipped the highways, and so they drove through small towns and townships, past beat-up buildings, and some that had been abandoned long ago. The plastic became sweaty against Stitch’s skin, and burned him with each breath. It almost felt as if he were smuggling the drugs inside of his own body.

  He liked the roar of the engine, not having to talk to anyone, having his thoughts enclosed inside his helmet. Sometimes, just going out for a ride helped Stitch clean his mind, but today, his brain was only getting more clouded by the mile. They needed this money, his family needed it, but if he ended up in prison or dead, he wouldn’t get to see his kid grow up. He knew Gator was hungry for more, to give their club a higher profile. Stitch would be lying to himself if he thought he didn’t know how this venture would develop. They would get more of the guys to mule, get bolder with the amounts they were taking. That would bring need for more guns and more guys. The expansion Gator wanted. Stitch, on the other hand, was fine just hustling with TVs and iPads like they’d always had. It was a tough nut to crack.

  After about an hour on the road, Gator pulled into the small parking lot by a beat-up diner. The place was so low profile it had two unrepaired holes in the asphalt right at the front, and it allowed Stitch to believe there weren’t any cameras inside. With only three cars parked in the lot, it seemed like a good transfer point.

  Gator stretched as soon as he was off the bike. He radiated confidence. “You ready?”

  Captain and Stitch got off as well and left their bikes close by, so they could see them. “Yeah. Is he in yet?” Stitch asked as they made their way up the wooden stairs. Because the ground was so damp in this area, the diner was mounted on short wooden pillars, so they walked up to the porch and entered, led by Gator, who moved like a king entering his stable. Stitch closed the procession and glanced around as soon as he went through the door. It was a sad place, with tables that had chipped edges and smudges of dirt on the floor. The upbeat pop music didn’t fit in with the ghastly, hospital-like light coming from behind the counter.

  It soon became clear where they needed to go as they noticed a table in the middle of the room clouded by smoke, with a hairy older man drinking coffee and eating cheesy fries. Stitch had to stop himself from sneering at that meal, but his attention went elsewhere when he noticed two guys who looked like they’d stepped out of fashion ad , sitting in the corner and chatting over pie. It was ridiculous how strange they looked in a dump like this, across the room from the Lord of Lung Cancer. Stitch almost bumped into Captain.

  To say that they were not ‘from here’ would be an understatement. Stitch hadn’t seen a guy with skin so smooth other than on TV. And if that wasn’t enough, one had the shiniest Kim Kardashian hair, while the other wore his in a sort of modern pompadour. He wanted to ignore them, but Gator nudged him with an elbow. “Get rid of the outsiders,” he ordered. Captain, the sly motherfucker, rushed to the front already, leaving Stitch to deal with the very-not-locals.

  Stitch exhaled and slowly made his way to the table. He couldn’t hear the conversation itself, but the constant chuckling made it clear they were having fun. The guy who faced the room, buff and dressed in a T-shirt that showed off every asset of his upper body, blinked but smiled when his eyes met Stitch’s.

  “You guys finished? The diner’s gonna be used for private… use now,” Stitch said and leaned against the side of the booth. The second guy looked up, and only now did Stitch see a detail he hadn’t spotted from afar. The freakishly handsome, chiseled face wa
s marred by a twisted scar trailing across the man’s nose and cheek.

  “This booth’s in private use,” he said in a deep baritone, leaning back. The white shirt he was wearing expanded over his chest, showcasing naked skin below his collarbones where the garment was unbuttoned.

  Stitch frowned. Was this guy actually challenging him? Did he have a death wish? The one with short hair snorted and calmly had another piece of pie.

  “You can take this pie to go. I think you better leave.” Stitch pulled out his wallet and put five bucks on their table.

  The one with the scar and long hair showed Stitch the place across the table from him, his olive-skinned, veiny arm jerking with the motion. “Sit down.”

  Stitch looked over his shoulder, feeling like in a surreal movie. Like one of those European arty-farty projects. Gator gestured at him with a frown, while Captain spoke to Smoke, not even noticing what was going on over here. Why did Stitch get the shit job of dealing with civilians?

  “Why would I do that?” Stitch groaned, watching in amazement how the buff guy slapped Scar’s forearm with a laugh.

  “Come on, Dom, don’t mess with him.” It sounded as carefree as a butterfly on some field in Montana.

  “I don’t mess with people.” Dom grinned and looked up at Stitch. “I eat them.”

  His friend started chuckling, and Stitch had the loudest freak-alert ringing in his head. The fuck was this? “Is this your next meal then?” he pointed at the laughing guy, who only got louder. Stitch didn’t want to get into a stupid discussion, he really didn’t, but these two civilians were asking for it.

  Dom smiled at him and pulled his friend closer. He pressed a kiss to his temple without ever breaking eye contact with Stitch. It was like having an ice pill stuffed down Stitch’s throat. Stitch couldn’t believe his eyes. Those men really weren't from here, which was also quite obvious from their Italian accents. What was he supposed to do? Aggression would only attract more attention.

  “You bet. I’ve never tasted meat so tender and sweet,” said Dom and showed Stitch the seat again. Was this an invitation for a threesome or something? The pack of cocaine was now so sweaty it felt like it was swimming in Stitch’s T-shirt. He slowly sat down and pushed the pie toward Dom.