Neither This Nor That Box Set 1

by MariaLisa deMora

  They’d made tentative plans to hook up the following weekend, plans which were flushed down the toilet as soon as he’d turned on his phone, the ceaseless pings and vibrations of missed calls, voice mails, and texts had made him roll his eyes all the way back to the garage. By the time he got on his bike and sorted out what was going down, he didn’t like a fuckin’ bit of it.

  “Seriously, if you can’t give us what your president promised, then we’ll look elsewhere to source what we need.” Po’Boy twisted his neck and scowled at his companion, this person’s identity being the biggest reason he wasn’t happy about this trip. Wrench lounged at the bar, an elbow propped on the dull surface, uncaring of the greasy grime covering the bar top. The man looked like he had not a care in the world, and something about his attitude chapped Po’Boy’s ass even more than normal. The entire trip across Louisiana and Texas had been conducted mostly in silence. The two nights spent in roadside parking areas Po’Boy had rolled into his sleeping bag without acknowledging the man lying on the next table over.

  Bad enough Twisted sent me on this fuckin’ wild goose chase. Then he had to fuckin’ saddle me with this asshole.

  At night, though, that asshole turned into a turn-on in his dreams, causing him to wake with a groan in the middle of the night. Silently unzipping the sleeping bag, he’d rolled until his back was towards Wrench and jerked off, all the time imagining the hand on his cock belonged to the other man.

  Now, stalled in El Paso for days with no resolution, he’d come to the end of his patience. Shooting a glare at Wrench, Po’Boy said, “I’m thinkin’ we’re done here, brother.” The need to show an unshakable solidarity went without saying, and to the outside observer, especially one who didn’t know either of them well, they’d clearly pulled it off. “Time to call my man Retro, pull the trigger on him hooking us up with the Las Cruces folks.” That would be the newly drafted chapter of a Chicago club, filled with men who walked the line and lived the life, but stayed a little farther away from the outlaw side than either Incoherent or CoBos.

  “No, man. I got you. No need to go so far.” Zipline unlocked his lips at last, presenting Po’Boy what he needed in just a few words. “I got you. We’ll head back to the office, go over the map and my notes. This time tomorrow, I’ll have you where you need to be down in Mexico. No worries.”

  Po’Boy hadn’t looked away from Wrench, hadn’t given Zipline anything in response to his proclamation. Rewarded for his scrutiny by seeing tiny crinkles of amusement appear next to Wrench’s eyes, he knew a look of satisfaction crossed his face. Wrench glanced at him, and the line of his lips tightened slightly, something Po’Boy instinctively knew was him suppressing a grin. Fuck, why in the hell do I think I know this man so well? Still without turning, Po’Boy gave Zipline the first real inkling of who he was with his gritted words, “Lead the fuckin’ way.”

  He turned and heard Wrench moving behind him, but wasn’t ready for the arm that came down across his shoulders, nearly flinching in his surprise. “Yeah, Zippy,” Wrench’s voice was jovial as he agreed with Po’Boy. “Lead the fuckin’ way.”

  Three hours later they’d hammered out a plan. They’d spend one more night in the cheap motel and Zipline would meet them in the morning with two men. One would be his, and one a member of the Mexican club that ruled Juarez, right across the river from where they sat. Zipline offered a room in the clubhouse, but even without consulting the other, Po’Boy and Wrench both declined, their responses in sync and seeming nearly practiced. Zipline recommended they travel light tomorrow as they crossed the bridge, promising to get them enough iron to roll heavy once they were deeper into the foreign territory. That didn’t sit well with Po’Boy, even if he saw the wisdom because the last thing any of them wanted was to have any bumps in the road that could be avoided, and getting stopped with guns on them by border agents was a bad idea.

  Strolling out of the office, Wrench’s shoulder bumped and jostled him, and Po’Boy looked over to see Wrench cutting his eyes in a telling way. Following the direction of his gaze, it took every ounce of concentration to continue walking because standing at the bar in the back of the clubhouse’s main room, in exactly the same spot Wrench had been earlier, was Deuces. He nearly swallowed his tongue in an effort to stop the shout wanting to erupt from his body. They hadn’t specifically named the man to Zipline, but the implication based on the club’s name they’d thrown around shouldn’t have been hard to follow. Fucking assholes.

  Outside, Po’Boy angled towards where their bikes were parked, hearing Wrench’s footfalls behind him. Beside his bike, head down, he fiddled with his bag as he asked quietly, “The fuck you think that bastard’s doing out here?”

  Voice low, matching Po’Boy’s tone, Wrench said, “No idea, but I surely do not believe in coincidences as big as this. There are no odds big enough to cover him being here at the same time we’re out here looking for his bosses.”

  “Yeah,” Po’Boy said, squatting so he could stare over the seat of the bike back towards the clubhouse, surprised when the door remained closed. Time to go. “Skin’s crawling, brother. Let’s get the fuck outta Dodge.”

  “Motel?” Wrench threw a leg across his bike, settling onto the seat as he shoved his key into the ignition. “Not recommended, man.”

  “Gotta be two hundred motels in El Paso. I’m thinking we can’t trust Zipshit as far as we can throw him. I’m also thinking we know the exact reason we’ve been strung along as far as we have been. Fucker can eat my ass, man. I’ll call Retro soon as we get private.” Po’Boy pushed up with a groan, climbing on his bike and thumbing the starter switch. Voice raised over the rumbling of two sets of exhaust, he asked, “Ready to roll?” At Wrench’s lifted thumb, Po’Boy twisted his throttle and led the way off the clubhouse’s lot, onto the highway.

  ***

  “Call Opie.” After only two brusque words, Retro disconnected the call, and Po’Boy wrinkled his nose. Retro wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t a call he wanted to make. Not tonight at least.

  “What’d he say?” Wrench spoke from the other bed, back against the headboard, legs extended towards the TV. Po’Boy used the mirror fixed to the wall to watch the other man, his mouth watering when Wrench stretched and put his arms behind his head. Gorgeous arm porn, he thought, spending a moment to wish Wrench had taken his shirt off before stretching out on the bed. “Well?” Impatient now, Wrench looked away from the TV screen and towards Po’Boy, catching his gaze in the mirror. Busted, he thought, seeing the blank expression Wrench schooled his features towards when he realized Po’Boy was watching him.

  “Told me to make the call we were talking about earlier. Didn’t fuckin’ hesitate, which makes me mad I wasted time callin’ his ass.”

  “Hmm. Retro’s a good one to bounce ideas off. I’ve never regretted asking his opinion.” Wrench rolled his head back, the cords on his neck standing out as he stretched with a soft grunt, chin tipped towards the ceiling, fabric of his clothing rustling against the bed’s comforter. “Beds are better here than the last place.”

  “Yeah.” Every movement seemed choreographed to highlight another perfect aspect of Wrench’s anatomy until Po’Boy couldn’t tear his eyes off him. Knew he needed to before the man caught him eyeballing him again, but couldn’t stop watching the undulating movements of the man. “You hungry?” This was the most they’d spoken since leaving Mandeville six days ago, and Po’Boy kept wanting to hear Wrench’s voice again. “I’m starved. I could order pizza or some shit.”

  “Pizza’s good.” Wrench lifted his head, and Po’Boy immediately stared down at his phone, pulling up a browser to search for a restaurant nearby that delivered. “I like meat. Lots of meat.” Me, too, Po’Boy thought, glad his lips only twitched but stayed closed.

  Clearing his throat Po’Boy nodded, saying only, “Sounds good.” He’d just finished ordering their dinner and disconnected from the call when his phone chimed. Looking down he saw a text from Crissy. With a grin, he opened th
e app and read, You sure the weekend is out? :pouty face: I was looking forward to seeing you again.

  Shaking his head, he responded, Yeah, sorry. Soon as I get back, it’s on. We’ll let your freak out to play again.

  Her return text had him chuckling. An emoji of a jumping cheerleader and a simple, Yay, still managed to convey her anticipation.

  “Got something to smile about?” Wrench’s voice came from nearby, and Po’Boy looked up to see he’d shifted to the edge of the mattress, feet on the floor between the beds, his head angled to look into Po’Boy’s face.

  “Yeah, the chick I hooked up with last weekend was looking for a round two. Havin’ to let her down easy.” He shook his head, leaning back to shove the phone into his pocket. “Pretty? Oh, yeah. Man, she’s pretty. And just kinky enough to get off on my shit. A rare combination, man.”

  “You and Twisted used to share women.” Not a question, the statement came from left field, startling him into staring at Wrench’s face. “Caught the show a couple of times. Hot as hell.” As he spoke, a flush crept up Wrench’s cheeks, and Po’Boy wondered if the words were intentional or a slip.

  He nodded. “Yeah, we’d double team any chance we got. Good times. Yousa put a stop to that. I can’t imagine going there with her. Fuck, Twisted would kick my ass if he thought I was suggesting it.”

  “You got a partner lined up? You know, if it’s something you liked and wanted to keep doing? You could find someone else to screw around with.”

  What the hell? Was Wrench offering to be Po’Boy’s wingman in a fuck fest?

  “Not something I think about much.” I’m a fuckin’ liar because hooking up is all I think about. “If you’re offering, I’ll give you a buzz next time I find a two-hole piece of fun.” That will never happen.

  “How about this one? You said she’s kinky, yeah? Would she be down for some fun?” Wrench persisted, the red in his face more pronounced.

  “Yeah, she’s kinky enough to be fun. Not sure she’d be into two dudes, but I can sure as fuck ask her, see what she says. Crissy didn’t seem to be afraid of much. I bet I can talk her into it.” The idea of doubling up on her with Wrench was more than enticing, it was damned exciting. Exciting and terrifying, with the thrill of possible exposure buzzing in his gut.

  “Crissy?” Wrench’s head tipped to one side, surprise clear in the motion, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “That the chick’s name?”

  “Yeah, and get this, she lives up by you. Saw her license, noted the address. She’s a fuckin’ looker, man.” He reached down and adjusted his cock. “Tore me up in a good way.”

  “Jesus. She’s my next-door neighbor. You’re right, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and a hella kisser. Where’d you meet her?” At Wrench’s admission, Po’Boy felt another thrilling buzz. Not of jealousy, not of possession, but at the idea maybe he and Wrench had already shared her however remotely.

  “Mmmm. You fuck her?” There was no hiding the fact his slow, rolling tone was hopeful, and his cock fattened more just considering the implications.

  “No, never got so far. I had a run-in with Thorne and Sam that involved her, then had to head straight up to Kentucky. I was gone for a couple of weeks, and when I got back, she was out, didn’t come home until right before I got the call from Ace to meet you. I’m guessing she was with you last weekend?” Wrench sighed. “Now that’d be a show.”

  “You want that? Wanna see that? Oh, fuck, man. No hidin’ the fact I like the idea.” Po’Boy stroked his cock through his jeans, fingernails dragging across the fabric. “We get back, I’ll give her a call, see if she’s up for more kink than I threw at her so far.”

  Can I do this again? Be around someone I want and can’t have, in the kind of setting which forces intimacy? One fuckup. That was all it would take. One goddamned fuckup and everything he had worked for would be toast. He looked at Wrench, locking on the sensual expression of arousal and intense interest on his face as he nodded eagerly. The idea of having that staring at him across Crissy’s body was a thrill he wouldn’t be able to pass up.

  He considered again the dangers of having his activities exposed.

  I don’t care.

  ***

  Wrench

  Jesus. Crissy and Po’Boy. His mind was going wild with images pulled from parties where he’d watched Po’Boy and Twisted share women, superimposing Crissy’s face and body on the activities. The sound of the TV blaring to life jerked his attention back to the room, and he watched as Po’Boy idly flipped through several channels before settling on one showing the weather. Thank God. If he’d found porn and put it on, Wrench wasn’t certain what he’d have done. He’d already popped wood watching Po’Boy stroking himself through his pants, the size and length of the man’s large cock clearly defined.

  What would it be like to have him touch me like that?

  Fuck.

  “Ask her now.” He almost didn’t recognize his voice, gravelly and rough. His balls drew up, and he couldn’t suppress a full-body shiver of anticipation. “Give her a nudge, at least, man. Won’t lie, the idea more than interests me.”

  “Tell me about the kiss.” Po’Boy seemed to want to negotiate, and Wrench found himself willing.

  “You spent time with her enough to see her sassy side? She’s got one, no doubt. I was about to strap my bag on the bike to head out when Thorne rolled up with his crew. Sam, fuckin’ asshole she is, bailed off his bitch seat and wanted to push me. Still not sure what she expected to get outta the deal, except a set down in public.” He grinned, tipping his chin up. “Bitch was screaming and yelling. Thorne just looked stunned, like he didn’t know what he’d unleashed by bringing her to my door. Over her bullshit I hear the door behind me open and next thing I know Crissy’s laying Sam out about her shit. Tore her down and pissed Sam off. That woman’s got balls like you wouldn’t believe.”

  Po’Boy muttered, “Oh, I’d believe.”

  Wrench grinned. “Thorne contained and then rolled off with Sam, and I went inside to explain to Crissy she might want to know something about a situation before she throws down. She’s so…cute. Standing there all flummoxed by why I was pissed. I just went for it. Hella good, man.” He swallowed, sweat stinging along his skin thinking about Po’Boy kissing her like he had. “You know how she is. As if there’s no end to the sweet you’ll find inside her.”

  “Be happy to look all day long, though.” Po’Boy grinned lasciviously, one corner of his mouth quirking sideways. “All you did was kiss?”

  “Yeah, had me hard as a rock in under five seconds. She looked so confused when I stopped, but Jesus, I had to get out of there, or I’d never have gone to Kentucky.” He shook his head. “Sweet. She’s so sweet. Jesus.”

  “You fuckin’ missed the boat, man. Missed out on so much.” Po’Boy stretched his neck, hands lifting to slide down his chest. “Fuckin’ phenomenal lay, man. The woman has moves and hellacious stamina.” Wrench watched without blinking as Po’Boy gripped his cock again and gave the smallest of tugs. Heat on his own hand made him aware he had palmed his hard-on through his jeans, too. “You want me to give her a nudge?”

  “Yes.” Wrench knew he would cringe at his tone later, but for now, he didn’t try to hide the excitement and need in his voice. “Fuck yes.”

  With a sly grin, Po’Boy lifted his phone and started tapping at the screen. After a moment, he cut his eyes towards Wrench again, then began narrating what he was sending her. “When I get back, I got something I want to do with you. Turn up the heat, Miss Crissy. You wanna get hot with me?” He paused, staring down at his phone, and Wrench realized he was waiting for a response.

  His phone chimed, and he grinned as he read, “Your place or mine?” Laughing softly, Po’Boy typed out his answer, “We could meet in the middle.” He lifted his gaze and stared directly at Wrench. “She thinks I’m living in New Orleans.” A chime and he cut his eyes down to the phone, his grin turning wolfish. “A new location for playtime? I’m intrigued.” Lifting h
is chin, he offered Wrench a smirk. “She’s intrigued. Now to set the hook. You said she had your back, right?” Wrench nodded. “Think she was into you?” With a small shrug, Wrench nodded again. “Go big or go home, right?” Without waiting for a response, he typed and then read, “Second thought, my place. Gonna need privacy for all the things we’re going to do to you.”

  Wrench’s cock pulsed, and he palmed it again. Why does this do it for me?

  A chime.

  “We?” The wolfish grin was back, and Po’Boy turned his full attention to the phone. “Yes, baby. We. You and me got friends in common and we”—the emphasis was clear—“have a hundred ideas of the fun things we can all do together.” Chime. “Who’s your friend?” Po’Boy winked at him. “Want a pic pic, or a dick pic?” Pause. Chime. “Both.”

  Wrench groaned as Po’Boy laughed, moving to sit on the side of his mattress, legs in the small space between their beds. Within touching distance. Wrench shifted to match his pose, putting one foot between Po’Boy’s, one foot on the outside. Close enough to feel the heat from Po’Boy’s leg.

  “Okay, time to go all in. Whatcha packin’? Can’t have you comin’ up short, man.” Po’Boy stood and unbuckled his belt, staring down at Wrench, his hands working at eye level. “You hard, man?” Wrench swallowed. This had suddenly become real.

  He stood and unfastened his jeans, letting them gape open and droop slightly around his hips. “I’m packing plenty. If she likes ‘em big, we’re good.” In for a penny, he thought and shoved his pants down his legs, his erection springing out, rebounding up to lightly slap his belly. Hand circling the base, he angled it down and turned his hips slightly to the side, pulling his foreskin back to expose the crown. “I got your cock right here.” A moment later Po’Boy had also shucked his jeans, leaving them tight around his thighs. His skin was darker than Wrench’s, the contrast stark. His cock was thick and long, cut, the head nearly purple and weeping.