2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
S ome days, the only way to escape was to twist the throttle and fly down the highway at top speed.
Having a hot guy at their back didn’t hurt either.
The sunset sprawled out across the horizon in a lazy tumble compared to the way they shot down the blackened asphalt of the freeway.
Tonight was a brilliant one, golds and crimsons filled with explosive promise.
The colors tore across the sky like sunken claws, trying to keep their footholds on the canvas, more than a little how Fin felt tonight.
The scent of the road and the crispness of the wind were intoxicating.
Energy brimmed inside them, the volatile sort that demanded to fuck or fight or ride.
Visiting their mother was a few times a year occurrence. They didn’t know why they still bothered.
I’m fine, Finley.
Fine. Fucking fine. They’d heard the word over and over and over to the point they loathed it.
All those purplish bruises said differently, Mom.
Each one stirred up memories, ones they tried to run from, and the days their mother canceled their rare meetups came as a relief. Better than dealing with the battery acid in their stomach that each visit left them with. Knowing who their mother would return to.
Because Dad refused to stop drinking, so Fin refused to keep him in their life.
Fuck him.
Fuck both of them, honestly.
Because when Mom refused to walk away, she chose her side.
She didn’t even have the stones to tell Dad they were still in contact.
And sure, maybe they should exert a little more empathy since the woman had to deal with his temper, his abuse, but fuck, the anger scoured over everything else some days.
They twisted the throttle harder, eating up the highway. The skyline flashed by them so fast it formed a blur of colors, and the hum of the engine elevated them higher.
Today didn’t matter because the night was king.
They’d long preferred the night, the seductive energy of it, the quiet, and how it offered solace they couldn’t find for too long.
That hadn’t always been the case. Once upon a time, nights terrified them. They used to lock their bedroom door the moment the sun set because Dad would arrive home .
The scent of cheap booze would fill the house, followed by the cacophony of clanks, smacks, crashes. A symphony that had terrified them.
Because some nights they were spared. Other times, they didn’t get to their room fast enough.
Then they’d end up with the bruises. The cuts. The marks on their memories they couldn’t erase, no matter how hard they tried.
All too fast, the sign for Mussel Rock Park came into view.
They slowed down and veered to the right, taking the turn with ease.
The howl of the wind reigned around here, even though they weren’t sailing across the asphalt at top speed anymore.
The parking lot was empty apart from one other car.
Perfect. No need for onlookers with what Fin wanted to get up to.
The weight of Ollie at their back set them aflame.
Their pulse formed an insistent thump, thump, thump, and they needed to lose themselves in the sexy man who’d landed in their lap.
Fucking jackpot.
He’d looked just as itchy to escape, and he hadn’t hidden his interest in the slightest.
Besides hot as hell, that was what they searched for in hookups—enthusiastic as fuck.
Though most of the time, they didn’t fish in the vanilla pool.
But they didn’t need any extreme sorts of kink tonight that would push them toward the clubs.
Nah, just a rough and tumble with this hottie to burn through the current running through them.
Their mother’s sad face.
Those fucking bruises.
They might leave their own on partners, but it was always consensual. End of .
They pulled to a park, and Ollie slipped off first. They knocked out the kickstand and hopped off after.
“Goddamn,” Ollie swore. His cheeks were reddened from the wind, and a huge boyish grin lit his features. He was a huge guy, with broad shoulders and thick muscles, but definitely young, probably early twenties. “I haven’t gotten to ride in far too long.”
“I’ve got something you can ride.” They waggled their brows.
He rolled his eyes. “Really? You can do better than that.”
“You have higher faith in my sense of humor than I do.” They reached down to adjust their packer.
They’d popped on their favorite one tonight, and as the base rubbed against their clit, a shock of pleasure filtered through them.
Ollie’s dark eyes tracked the movement, a voraciousness in his gaze that had been there from the start.
“Why Mussel Rock Park?” Ollie asked.
“Eh, used to come out here a lot.” Fin shrugged, not wanting to dive into the nitty-gritty.
They’d been driving out here from the second they got their license.
Not only was it a short distance from where they grew up, but something about the ragged cliffs and harsher waves spoke to them in a way the calmer, more welcoming beaches didn’t.
The sole folks who roamed here were ones willing to brave the terrain.
And they associated with that far too hard.
They started toward the trails, and Ollie kept pace with them easily, his long legs eating up the pavement. Fuck, Fin loved bigger partners, no matter the gender. They found something euphoric in making someone huge feel vulnerable, small, protected.
And Ollie looked like he needed to be taken care of. With a cock up his ass. Repeatedly.
“So, were you just at Tabletop Tavern because of Jules?” Fin asked, needing to cut through the quiet. In the quiet lay memories, and those were shit. “Or do you play board games?”
“Not my style, and trust me, Jules has tried,” Ollie said. “We bond over sci-fi, but I’ve always been more into cars and sports.”
“Mmm, give me a little of both. At least bikes and sci-fi. I’m a board game diehard too. So…any other hobbies?” If they loaded the word hobbies, well, that was because they were garbage at playing coy.
A laugh exploded out of Ollie. “Why do I get the feeling you’re fishing? This have to do with the vanilla thing?”
“Ah, so pretty and smart,” Fin teased. A ruddy flush spread on Ollie’s cheeks, and ungh, that was delicious. “I’ll be honest. I don’t normally mess around with vanilla folks.”
“As opposed to…” he asked.
“Kinksters, babe.” They scrutinized him.
If a hint of judgment existed, they’d drive him back.
Fin didn’t have room in their life for that bullshit.
Most of the time, vanilla folks weren’t worth dabbling with due to the sheer lack of communication.
They’d gotten so used to the comfort of negotiation and up-front talks when it came to the local scene that they were spoiled.
Ollie’s eyes grew a few shades darker, and he licked his lips. “I haven’t dipped my toes in.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re averse.” Fin knocked against his side.
The guy was a brick wall, so solid he barely budged, and fuck, their blood thrummed.
They wanted to pin him down and take him hard.
His sharp jawline, those gorgeous cheekbones stood out, but what had drawn Fin in from the start was the guardedness around Ollie, as if he was made of gravel and broken glass like them.
He pushed back against their side. “Maybe I’ve been curious for a bit.” Electricity crackled through their veins.
“Mmm, don’t dangle that in front of me.” Fin flashed him a grin. “I’ll find a way to drag you to the next munch at my work. ”
“Where’s that?” he asked, a hunger in his tone that Fin recognized.
Goddamn, he was their catnip. Just massive and clever and curious.
The ocean crashed in the background, the roar growing louder the farther along the trail they walked.
Fin wanted to make sure they were well enough away from the parking lot so they wouldn’t get caught. No need for nosy onlookers tonight.
“Whipped,” they replied. “Kink café in SoMa. Not too far from Tabletop Tavern, which is one of the reasons I’m over there so much.”
The trail opened up, leading down one of the familiar paths where some of the rocky outcroppings would make for the perfect place to lose themselves.
“So when I mentioned rough,” Fin said, “I was talking grappling and pinning. Getting down and dirty out here. Still game, big guy?”
A visible shiver racked him, and Fin’s core fucking ached. Damn. He was responsive as hell, and he’d probably feel so good to pin down. Something about dominating stroked their libido every damn time.
“You think you can take me?” he asked.
The grin struck their face like lightning. “My favorite words. I love a challenge.” They stopped to face Ollie because they needed to get a gauge on him. “And with bottoming? How comfortable are you?”
“Well, I need more than spit and a prayer, but I…uh…play with myself enough that I don’t need prep.” Ollie squeezed his nape and looked up.
“Damn, you’re adorable,” Fin said. “That blush for real?”
Sure, maybe they pushed a bit more to get a reaction. But in their defense, that was their modus operandi.
Ollie scrubbed at his face. “I normally have more game than this, fuck.”
“Mmm, I don’t mind you off your axis at all, but I’ll need you to be able to safe out if we’re playing rough.
Familiar with the stoplight system?” Fin leaned against one of the rocky outcroppings.
Ollie shook his head, and Fin let out a whistle.
Damn, total newbie. They were so close to the ocean they could see the inky black swells glistening, and the scent of brine traveled their way, crisper and sharper at night.
“Green for good, yellow if we’re nearing too much or you need a beat, and red for hard stop. ”
“I can manage that,” Ollie said. “If I’ll even need them.”
“That disbelief in your voice, sweetness?” Fin asked, a dangerous note leaking into their words. Their blood thrummed something fierce. They were used to people underestimating them. Folks had their entire life, but the challenge thrilled them even more. “I’ll have you begging for mercy.”
“I hope I’m begging,” he responded. Damn, he was a saucy flirt, and they fucking liked it.
While they’d played with every sort of sub from hardcore brat to the good girls, boys, and babes, Ollie’s energy was different.
Eager but with a sharpness that kept them on edge.
Lively in a way they fucking liked, and he was tough to categorize.
Damn, they liked a challenge.
“You’re going to look so damn good on your knees.” Heat flowed through them. “Bent over, splayed out for the taking.”
His breath hitched, and a thrill rose higher in them. Lust swirled through their veins in a heady thrum. God, they needed this. Ollie felt like more than a worthy opponent. After the shit day they’d had, running into him had been a complete gift.
He faced them a few feet away, the shadows carved into his features. His close-cropped dark brown hair was a bit longer on top, and his expressive brown eyes glittered. He had full lips that would look so good wrapped around their cock, and the bulk of their frame promised Ollie packed on muscle.
They’d needed to fuck or fight, but tonight they’d get both .
They rolled their shoulders, settling into a comfortable stance. Already, the space between them was reduced to angles, quick calculations. Their brain parsed them down all too fast. The air between them crackled with tension, and neither looked away from the other.
“Are we…” Ollie gestured at the trail they’d come from and the short one leading to the glittering ocean.
“Oh, hell yeah, babe.” A wolfish delight rose inside them. Like this, surrounded by the raw fury of nature, they were in their element.
“Game on.”