Epilogue
Going back to prospecting felt like regressing to a spot in my life that I’d long left behind me, but it’s a bearable punishment in comparison to exile. Six months later, I still think so despite everyone teasing me about being an enforcer who didn’t manage to ‘enforce’ himself. The people of Vulture Hollow have calmed down after the club claimed I found out Isaac was a rat all along, but I have still caved his skull in front of everyone. That couldn’t go unpunished. Not to mention that all the other shit I’ve pulled would have landed me six feet under in any club that’s more about being a force than a sanctuary. I’m glad my brothers voted to give me a chance. And even happier about them extending the same helping hand to Clyde.
I suppose saving Brigid’s life did play in our favor, but that doesn’t mean going back to cleaning bikes, polishing boots, and being a designated servant for the nastiest of jobs is a dream come true.
I’ve spent the past two days out on a run, separated from Clyde, and I’ve missed him like hell. Especially during the long, cold night in a motel with a broken radiator. But as much as I hate prospecting at my age, it’s an opportunity to return to the life I know and love. Prophet did already promise me though, that I’ll never again be the one upholding club law.
Fine by me.
At least there wasn’t much mayhem after the fucking massacre in which several Butchers and Martin died, along with two civilians on our side who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I doubt our two clubs will ever be friendly , but under new management, the Hell’s Butchers MC is not so terrible to deal with. Some of us, including me and Clyde, got arrested after the shootout alongside a few of the Butchers, and being stuck in that situation together forged a bit of bonding. Nothing could be proven to anyone in particular, so with the help of a few of Prophet’s cop buddies, we were out within the week.
All is well in Vulture Hollow.
I’m back from my job, and I don’t even have to clear snow from the road leading to our settlement.
It’s bitterly cold, but the thought of warming my bones by the fireplace, with Clyde in my lap, pushes me forward. The settlement is quiet, likely due to the Christmas fair in a town nearby, so I drive up to the clubhouse undisturbed, and so very ready to get some much-needed rest.
Yeti waves at me from his favorite chair when I enter the clubhouse lounge. He’s the only one here, and as much as I love my brothers, it’s not them I want to talk to right now. My relationship with Clyde still feels so fresh, and I can’t wait to bury my face in his hair, so I can tell him everything that’s happened over the past two days.
“Cargo,” I say and toss the little package into Yeti’s lap.
Yeti raises his beer bottle to me. “You’re not staying for a drink?”
“We can have one later,” I say, already turning on my heel.
He snorts. “Right, gotta please your sugar daddy first.”
I know it’s a joke, but I still groan. Clyde came into possession of a whole shitload of money once he got his house insurance payment and sold the land on top of that. While he’s hardly flaunting it, the guys will find any reason to pull my leg. But I know a way to give them a taste of their own medicine.
“Exactly. We’ve been apart for so long we probably won’t leave the bed until tomorrow. I like to take my time with it.”
Yeti groans and looks away with a flush on his hairy face. “Okay, okay, just go.”
I grab two of his beers anyway so I can have one with Clyde later. And while it does feel a bit weird how much money he has in the bank in comparison to what’s in my dusty wallet, the cash sure comes in handy when renovating our home. Neither of us is particularly materialistic, but it sure was nice to be able to afford all the appliances Clyde deemed necessary for our small kitchen .
I leave the bike by the clubhouse and jog through the middle of the settlement. Being able to stretch my legs is quite nice after hours in the same position, but soon enough I’m at the top of the hill and slam my boots against the grate at the bottom of the steps, to get rid of the snow stuck to my soles.
The cats are likely all in the little shelter attached to the other side of the cabin, but as I approach the door, my jaw drops at the sight of a… cat flap.
I sigh, because I’m not sure this is a good idea, but Clyde must have installed it to surprise me, so I vow to not complain. After all, a cat flap can be closed.
“That you, Road?” Clyde yells from deeper in the house, so he must be in the bedroom.
“Are you ready for me?” I call back with a grin and remove my outer clothes.
“Always. Come and see for yourself!”
I can’t stop smiling. How did I not realize how nice it would be to have someone waiting for me like this, always ready to put their arms around me.
I am a sap and a simp.
So what?
In just my sweatshirt and jeans, I walk straight into our bedroom and fling the door open, but instead of leaping on top of Clyde, as I intended, I’m stuck with my jaw open.
My old furniture is gone.
Clyde sits on the new bed cross-legged, in sweatpants and a T-shirt and smiles at me, spreading his arms. “Ta-dah!”
The king size bed frame is sturdy, made out of chunky timber, with a tall headboard. Matching side tables out of wood in the same color stand next to it. Even the bedding Clyde is sitting on is new, a fluffy comforter in a dark green color. Several more pillows than there used to be decorate the bed, and there’s even a new cowhide rug on the floor.
It takes my throat a whole minute to get unstuck. “So that’s what the ‘sugar daddy’ comment was about,” I mumble as Clyde grabs my hand and drags me onto the mattress which feels… “Whoa,” I whisper, pressing my hand to the surface beneath me. It’s somehow both firm and yields under my touch.
Clyde groans, laying down next to me. “Was it Yeti? He helped me carry in the mattress. We seriously needed this upgrade. It’s fucking heaven, right? I slept on it last night, and I almost didn’t miss you.” He sticks out his tongue.
“It feels like a cloud,” I say, stretching out my limbs. “This can’t be a normal mattress.”
“It is normal,” Clyde says. “It’s just not twenty years old, with permanent dips, like the last one.”
“C‘mere,” I whisper, grabbing his waistband and dragging him on top. Fuck, he’s so warm, and smells like a campfire in the summer. I want to eat him whole and suck all the marrow from his bones. “How do I repay you?”
Clyde rocks against me. He always makes me feel so very desired. Like I’m the prize. “You can test the bed with me tonight,” he says with a grin.
This is exactly the cue I’ve been waiting for, and I roll us over, so he’s spread out beneath me.
I’m about to move my knee between his thighs when I spot something in the corner of my eye, and before I know it, Nutter jumps on the bed and starts licking my forehead.
Jeez.
“Have you no concept of personal space, cat?”
Clyde laughs. “It’s Nutter. Of course he doesn’t. Yesterday he licked butter off my knee.”
“You forgot how to use a knife or what?” I ask, settling my forearms on either side of Clyde’s head. Our limbs align so well together, and once again, I’m between his legs, kissing his cheek.
Life as a prospect has many downsides, but I’ve never known the kind of peace I get to taste when I’m in bed with Clyde. He’s thoughtful, caring, and loving in ways I had no idea the Clyde Turner I hated was capable of. And when he lets me inside him, better still, begs for my cock, I feel like the luckiest bastard alive. He has scars, tattoos, he’s rough around the edges, but he’s no less beautiful because of it.
And he’s mine.
So of course, just as he slides his hand under my top, my phone has to go off.
I growl, hitting the mattress with my fist, but this particular ringtone means business, and I don’t ever want to disappoint my club again.
“Yeah?” I ask, picking up while Clyde exhales, rubbing my back with gentle fingers.
“You two are needed at Brigid’s,” Prophet says. He’s my best friend, he has my back, and he is going kinda easy on me, but he’s still the prez, and we’re prospects. Of course I give him a brief summary of my trip, and then promise to make my way to Brigid’s ASAP. It’s probably just about removing snow from around her place, but I still struggle to get off Clyde once the call ends. The sooner we’re done with work, the earlier we’ll be able to retire for the evening, so we dress up warm and walk across the settlement again. It’s getting dark by the time we approach the ice-covered lake, and when I realize the job I suspected this is about has already been done, I get cramps in my stomach.
Last month she made me assist her in sorting through her crystal collection, and I’d much rather shovel snow than deal with that again.
“Uh-oh!” Clyde teases me with a grin, as if he’s reading my mind.
He seems much less bothered by the witchcraft than me and walks toward her home without stalling. I bet it’s just because this whole occult thing is new to him, but it’s not like I’m going to get hurt as a result of crossing Brigid’s threshold. Luna lets us in before settling back in a chair by the fireplace, focused on the screen of her phone. Judging by the way she’s biting her lip, something good is happening inside that little device, but she is not the one we came to see.
“Hello?” I call out, shaking snow off before getting out of my jacket.
And then I smell it. The damn tea.
“Right on time,” Brigid says and strides in with a tray holding a single steaming cup. “Sit, sit,” she urges us to the round table carved with symbols.
Clyde doesn’t even hesitate. “What’s the occasion?”
“The right alignment of stars,” she says, pushing back her dark locks.
I go with it. As much as the whole thing still freaks me out, Brigid has been better to me than my own mother, and she is like that crazy aunt many people apparently have. If it makes her happy, I will drink the damn tea.
But when I reach for the cup, she clicks her tongue, stopping me. “Will you take one for the team, Clyde? I know he hates it,” she says, settling in her own chair.
He snorts and pats my knee. “Sure, I don’t mind.”
It’s so nice to live like this, surrounded by people who don’t treat me badly because I’m gay. I worried about it so much, for so many years, and while my biker brothers still tease me, the joke’s usually about me being unable to hide how much I love Clyde rather than our sexuality. No one gives me nasty looks for holding Clyde’s hand, nor suggest I’m not man enough now, or some shit like that.
“This is my gift for you this Yuletide,” Brigid says, leaning back in her chair. “Tonight, I can help you choose a wedding date that will insure the longevity of your union.”
Clyde’s eyes grow wider, and it’s comical how much faster he’s now slurping the hot tea .
Because yeah, we’re still not married. First, there was a lot going on with the cops in the aftermath of the Butcher massacre, then we fell into lots of work due to prospecting, but most of all, Brigid forbade it. She claimed it was for our own good, that the cards spoke to her. Or was it the universe? I don’t remember, because I was too pissed off when I heard it.
We could have gone to another state on our day off and married in secret, but it’s not how I want to do things. My relationship with Clyde isn’t supposed to be kept in the shadows anymore.
“You have waited for him all your life, you might as well wait for a few more months,” Brigid says and I go rigid, convinced she does have powers and has listened to my thoughts. Or she just read it from my expression. One of the two.
“Um… I just—”
“I know. Maybe this wouldn’t feel so urgent if you chose to share your real self with someone before the secret became too much to bear.”
A bitter pill, but I swallow it. If I’d come out earlier, I might have fallen into some easy fucking arrangement with someone at Vulture Hollow. But that would have been lukewarm in comparison to the boiling sugar of my affection for Clyde.
Clyde pushes the finished teacup toward Brigid. “So what’s the date?” he asks with excitement painted all over his face. Now that I know him so well, I know he’s lived his life behind a mask that only crumbled when I first kissed him.
“Patience,” Brigid says, eying the dregs.
I’m pretty sure she knows what she wants to say and doesn’t need to read shit, but whatever. I do need her blessing if I want to marry Clyde and have the support of our community, so be it. Brigid’s hum tickles the skin of my nape, and I place my hand on top of Clyde’s under the table.
“What?”
“It’s not a date, but an event.” Before I can open my mouth to ask what that means, she offers us a smile. “You can marry when the first flowers bloom around your home next year. Who knows, maybe that’s not so far off!”
Luna looks up at us from her phone. “Snowdrops sometimes bloom as early as end of January,” she offers and Clyde squeezes my hand.
Brigid frowns at her. “You could at least pretend not to be eavesdropping.”
Luna shrugs. If these were secret matters, Brigid would have asked her daughter to leave.
“This makes me so happy, I can’t wait to make an honest man out of Road,” Clyde says.
Luna snorts. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
Brigid pushes the cup away. “We should set a few tattoo appointments until then. You can’t go into a new union with the Butcher ink on your back. I will design something protective for you.”
She’s talking to Clyde, but my chest tightens around my heart and I stroke my man’s hand. Clyde’s been tried and tested, and this is Brigid showing her approval of his presence in Vulture Hollow, as well as his membership in the club. Right now, I’d have drank a whole pot of tea if it pleased her, but fortunately, she seems done with our visit.
We’re dismissed, and I can’t say I’m sorry, because unless my brothers come up with another task for us, I will get to try out the new bed and maybe even check if there really is no trace of snowdrops somewhere around the house.
It’s dark when we leave her place, stepping into the cold and heading off along the lake at a brisk pace. Most people from the settlement must still be at the Christmas thing in town, because otherwise there would be a lot of evening activity. As things are, it’s just Clyde and I, sinking our feet in snow that’s hard enough to crack under our weight.
“You think she simply wanted to test if this thing between us lasts before we make things official?” I ask, exhaling a swirl of white vapor.
Clyde nods and pats my cheek. “Yeah, wouldn’t want her precious little boy making the mistake of his life, would she?”
I scowl and grab his jacket on both sides of the waist. “I’m hardly the golden boy.”
He laughs and gives me a kiss. “You are in my eyes.”
His lips melt the frostiness on my skin, and I push him back, until he hits the nearby tree. We’re surrounded by the pale cloud dispersing in the cold air, and I wish he wore a big hood so we could both hide our faces inside it. No such luck, but a guy can dream.
Then again, my dream’s already real, and he’s in my arms.
“Just imagine what happens when Prophet finally decides to settle down. Bet she’ll be jealous. You know, in a motherly way.”
“I can see that. You think she’d officiate his wedding?” Clyde’s eyebrows rise. “That she’ll officiate at ours?” He slips out of my hold with ease and ducks to tie his shoe .
I laugh and stroke his back absent-mindedly as I imagine that future. Strange, how this just wasn’t something I paid any mind to before meeting Clyde. An empty ritual. A way to draft a legal contract that might mean problems in the future. Now that I have him in my life… the idea of acknowledging him as mine and others celebrating us on that day makes my heart overflow with warmth. Maybe it’s because I never had a real family, maybe because I’ve kept my true desires hidden for so long I ended up minimizing them, but now I want them to be visible.
“She does have a license for it.”
Clyde rises with his back to me. “Oh, and do you think—” He turns and throws a snowball straight in my face. He’s laughing his ass off when it hits me.
This is war, and I’m not going to go gentle on him just because I’m so in love I’d massage his feet each evening if he wanted me to. I don’t bother ducking for a projectile of my own, and when he turns around, about to flee, I tackle him into the fresh snow. The icy crumbs from the broken ball are already under my clothes and melting, and he is going to get a taste of his own medicine.
I roll him over and scoop an armful of snow right in his face.
“No!” Clyde yells, but laughs so hard he gets snow in his mouth. He kicks and waves his arms around like he’s a human windmill, shoving as much white fluff at me as possible.
When some gets into my eyes and I lose focus for a second, he uses that moment to get out from under me. By the time I wiped my face, he’s already a few paces away, panting and red-faced.
“Last one to the hot springs doesn’t get head tonight.” He wriggles his eyebrows at me in challenge.
I curse my legs for not being faster, because there’s no way in hell I’m losing this one, even if the game’s already rigged in Clyde’s favor. Now that he dangled that carrot in front of me, I cannot lose, so I sprint away, cutting into the woods instead of following him along the path. Soon enough, it becomes obvious it wasn’t such a good idea, because the shortcut is hardly a shortcut when each step through the deep snow’s exhausting and sends more of the melting ice into my boots. But I’m not one to give up in the face of trouble, so I choose spots where the snow seems thinnest and speed so fast my lungs soon start aching .
Every now and then I get a glimpse through the trees of Clyde speeding up the path. I hear his footsteps crunching. He even yelps once, so I’m guessing he might have fallen over, but if he’s not yelling for help, I’m not stopping.
I can already see the steam rising from the small pool of water in the rocks, and thank fuck no one is here. Clyde is panting somewhere down the path, but I’ll be first, I know it. I’m about to burst into the clearing when my foot hits something, and I fall on my face, right into the snow. It fucking hurts, and I can taste blood, as if I’d split my lip, but this is not over. I drag myself up and crawl from between the trees in time to see Clyde. He’s huffing and puffing as he jumps over the wooden fence offering the bathers a bit of privacy from the side of the path.
Many solar-powered lamps are scattered around the springs for nice evening ambience, so at least I see where I’m headed.
“You look like a dying man in the desert, trying to reach an oasis!” Clyde laughs, climbing the little steps to reach the pool from the path, but I’m not letting him distract me.
I slap my hand into the water, still on all fours.
“I won!” I shout, only now realizing that I’ve dipped my gloves and sleeves in, which are now soaked with the warm liquid. Just fucking great.
Clyde stands over me with his hands on his hips, catching his breath. “Wouldn’t say the shortcut was fair, but can’t blame you.” He winks at me and takes off his scarf.
All I can think of now is his lovely, hot mouth, because my clothes are already soaking and cold. I dread having to put them back on when we get out of the pool. But that’s a problem for future Road.
“Poor you. What will you do about this terrible penalty?” I tease and touch his lower back in passing. The deal was that the loser gets no head, not that he’ll not get any pleasure, and I know many ways to make Clyde shout my name while he claws my back, besides gobbling up his cock like it’s my favorite popsicle.
He smirks, towering over me as he takes off his jacket, then his shoes. At least the air around the hot spring is also a little warmer. “We’ll just have to see how creative you can get.”
There was no promise of head for the winner of our little race, but I’m pretty sure it’s a given when he licks along his top lip. Not that I’ve ever had to do much convincing when it comes to that. Clyde sometimes wakes me up with his mouth around my dick, but I don’t see his talented tongue ever getting old.
“I can be pretty creative when I want to,” I say, hanging up my jacket. I already feel bitterly cold, but there’s a prize waiting for me in the spring surrounded by rocks, so I bite the bullet and shed my remaining clothes.
Naked, inked, Clyde steps into the water. It only reaches to his chest when he stands in the deepest spot, so he dips lower and takes me in with his enticing blue eyes as if he’s some dangerous male nymph in a pond.
And he is dangerous all right, or rather—was—and if I couldn’t deny him then, what are my chances now? The stone tiles have been cleared of snow, but they still feel like ice under my feet as I make my way to the pool. When I dip one toe in the water, it feels almost too hot, but it’s a minor detail.
Clyde smirks and swims up to the edge when I sit there. I gasp when he parts my legs and his lips find my cock like I’m the prize after all, and he’s won. The yellow and green lights of the lamps glow in his eyes.
Clyde purrs against my dick and slides his palms up my thighs. “How are you this hot?” he asks, mirroring my thoughts.
My body’s torn, but when Clyde’s tongue laps my cock, painting it with warm saliva, I decide my upper half can deal with the cold for a bit longer.
“Must be something in the water,” I quip and slide my fingers into his smooth hair, which he didn’t even bother to tie up. He’ll regret it on the way back, but I’m not complaining. I love holding him by it. Something primal about it.
“Or I’m just always horny for you,” Clyde mumbles, half-closing his eyes in pleasure as he sucks in my stiffening cock.
The pull of his mouth is indescribable, and I find myself shifting on the edge of the pool, to be a little bit closer to that treasure trove of softness, slick saliva, and nimble muscles that always caress me just right.
“Fuck, that’s good,” I mumble, but when he kneels closer, I close the gap between my thighs, trapping his head between them.
He was great at this from the start, but with practice, Clyde’s taken it to new levels I can’t get enough of. He looks up at me with intense lust reflected in his eyes as he takes inch after inch into his mouth, letting all of me inside. His warm hands move to my waist, caressing me as greedily as his mouth .
I’m no longer cold.
In fact, I might be on fire.
As I twist his hair around my hand, giving myself the illusion that I’m still in control, he makes the most delicious hum. He hollows his cheeks as if he’s never before tasted anything better than my cock. Can’t say I’m not flattered.
“You’re a fucking pro at this.”
He winks at me, but then we lose eye contact when he lowers his head to take me all the way down his throat. Fuck. I’ve really fucked the gag reflex out of him. He’s so smooth, tight, wet, hot… My breath quickens as he sucks, bobbing his head. The new angle has pushed him a little above the surface of water and I get to admire his strong, wide shoulders. He’s such a fucking man , happy to take what he wants. And since what he wants is to swallow my cum, I might be the luckiest guy out there.
He’s got me wrapped around his finger. Because how can I ever say no to someone whose mouth feels this good? I chuckle, watching him bury his nose in my pubes. When he comes up, I pull him by the hair, until we’re kissing above my stiff, wet dick. Fuck, he tastes of me too.
“I’m going to fuck you in our new bed later, and I’ll start by drilling you open with my tongue.”
His breath quickens against my lips, eyes half-lucid when he looks at me. “Yes…” is all he can manage, but his excitement is palpable in the way his fingers tighten on my waist. He loves having his ass toyed with, and I’m more than happy to give him that. “Go on, fuck my mouth,” he whispers, rolling out the red carpet of his tongue.
Fire licks my back, and I cup his head before pulling it down. I feel him swallow as my cock slides in, deliciously slow, and when he’s again taken it all the way down, I give him an appreciative rub. “Is that making you even hornier? Knowing I’ll fold you against the bed and lick you until you beg me to stop torturing you?”
His eyes roll back when I pull him halfway off my cock before stabbing back in, until his nose is flush with my stomach. Damn, that looks good.
It took a while for me to understand Clyde likes a bit of force, and I’ve not avoided it since. After all, the guys he showed me in his porn mags were all tattooed studs. I want to make sure I’m the only one he fantasizes about now.
The little whimper I get in reply is all I need to know. He asked for it. He wants his mouth full of my dick. He wants to feel fucked . Like he’s mine to use until I come .
Clyde can be a cocky shit at times, but in bed? He’s real pliant, and I love that. Love seeing him with his legs spread for me, or mouth open and begging for dick. Even now, the water might be murky, but I swear he’s parted his legs wider.
He chokes when I shove my cock in again, but his muscles feel like they’re made of butter, and he goes right back to sucking, so I go on, pulling his head up, only to drag it down, to meet my hips. His spit mingles with my juices, and despite the cold around us, I’m scalding, and so unbelievably fucking focused on pleasure, I would stay here even if the pool started freezing over.
“Your ass, it’s like a juicy peach, and I can’t fucking wait to top it with some cream.”
The moan I get in return is music to my ears as his tongue dances along every vein of my pulsing tool. I want to flood his mouth with cum and see him swallow so badly my balls tighten. I’m almost there as the images in my head mingle with the reality of my man offering himself to me. His lips are swollen, wet, his face a dark red, and when his blue eyes peek at me, hazy with lust, my balls tighten, and I let go.
If this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is. My life might be hard at times, but right now, in the quiet hot springs, with my husband-to-be swallowing my cum as he lavishes my dick with the attention of his tongue, I want for nothing.
I’m still catching my breath as Clyde raises his head. He wipes his lips with a smirk, but just as I’m about to say something, he pulls on my legs, and I slide into the water with a splash. I half expect him to push my head down, as that’s not beyond his repertoire of play fights, but he just holds me in his arms, legs wrapping around my waist.
I’m so pumped out, still in a state of bliss, but when his hard dick pokes my stomach, I chuckle and give it a little pat with my face buried in Clyde’s smooth hair. “Want me to do anything about this?”
He smiles and kisses my neck. “Yes. Always.”
The end