Chapter 14
14
Scorpio
Riding usually re-centers me. I guess it must be in my blood, since every guy in my family—at least on my father’s side—has been a biker going back to when they invented the first motorcycle. If Honey’s stories are to be believed, anyway. But fact is, I knew how to ride from the moment I sat on my first bike—one of the two Joker and I stole from a couple of bikers too tweaked out on meth to do more than grunt in annoyance. Joker had more problems with getting the hang of it. Had trouble going in a straight line, had trouble not toppling… we actually had to ditch his bike and steal one for him from someone else later, once he finally learned to ride. In the meantime, he had to ride bitch on mine for a while. It’s a story I like to tell whenever he starts taking himself too seriously. Or when I just want to annoy him.
But not even remembering that is putting my mind right. Of course, the pockets of stand-still traffic I keep hitting on my way to see Stone Dogs MC on Joker’s orders isn’t helping either.
Grim is an intense guy. I knew that from before. He’s one of the ones you send in when you want the job done. Whatever the job is.
But I’ve never had all that intensity of his trained on me until tonight. And now I can’t get the memory of his strong body pressing me against the wall out of my mind. Of the feel of his hard cock against my ass. Or even his damn whiskey breath.
I can’t remember the last time I wanted a guy so bad. Must’ve been way back in the days of Stitch, the first guy I fell in love with not counting Walter. It was ages ago, and all went to shit fast.
I’ve been thinking about Grim so much, I’m even starting to forget he’s a total top and all the problems that will bring. Not a good thing.
After what seems like hours since setting out, I finally reach the Stone Dogs MC HQ. It’s a house on the outskirts of LA, in a mostly abandoned part of town and the road leading to it had so many potholes, I actually considered getting off my bike and rolling it to my destination to avoid destroying it and/or breaking my neck. I saw the swastikas and other Hitler fan club crap adorning the house about a mile before I actually reached it.
So now I’m sitting here in the dark trying to decide what to do. I’ve been thinking about fucking a guy so much tonight those Aryan motherfuckers will probably smell it on me.
I call Joker once I realize the decision on what to do next won’t just come to me. I should’ve done so earlier anyway, since I don’t even know what he wants me to talk to them about. He answers on the second ring.
“What do you want from these Nazis, anyway?” I ask.
“Oh, good, are you there?” he asks, sounding happily excited. “They have some sweet anti-personnel mines to sell that would be just perfect for the hills around Justice.”
Justice is a town in the middle of the Nevada desert that no one but our MC knows about. It’s where he’s planning to bring Eden after abducting her, and where we will make our last stand in the war against Devil’s Nightmare MC. We need all the help we can get with that, true. But anti-personnel mines?
“That’s not a good idea, Joker,” I tell him. “You know one of our guys will just end up stepping on it. And what do you know about placing them, anyway?”
“I’ve been looking it up,” he says defensively.
Of course he has. He plans and plans all the damn day. But that’s why he needs me. To tell him when his plans are shit. I probably should’ve said that about the plan to abduct Eden, the Devil’s Nightmare MC princess, but that ship has sailed.
“Nah, bad idea,” I say. “Plus, I don’t want us doing business with the Aryan brotherhood.”
I’m the VP of our MC. That should count for something. Although it’s always Joker calling the shots and I’m fine with that too.
“Come on, you’ll be fine,” he says, laughing. “You’re the whitest guy in our whole MC.”
“And probably the gayest.” Especially after my run in with Grim earlier. Jesus Christ.
Joker clears his throat. “You don’t gotta tell them that.”
We have very few secrets and me being bi was never one of them. Which isn’t to say I flaunt it or discuss it with him. But damn, I wish I could get some advice from him tonight.
“I’m not going in there,” I say and turn my bike back around. “You can get your mines from somewhere else.”
“You fucking know how hard it’s been to get good quality weapons, Scorpio,” he says. “The Devils clamped down on all supply lines and aren’t selling to anyone.”
It’s true. We’ve had to go as far as Honduras to get some good shit. But we can do that again.
“This is no time to start getting personally offended by other people’s bullshit beliefs and convictions,” he goes on. “You never cared one way or another before.”
And the truth is, I still don’t. I could go into that clubhouse and get those mines for us. But I don’t want to. What I want to do is go back to that crappy bar and finish what Grim and me started. It’s the only way I’m gonna get him out of my system. And who knows, maybe Karma’s back already too. That should be enough to keep him from killing me, at least.
“I’m nixing the mines idea,” I say. “Too fucking dangerous.”
“Then get back here and help me with this shit already,” he says sounding like he’s barely managing not to start yelling at me. “This war is as much for you as it is for me.”
He’s not wrong. Devil’s Nightmare MC murdered both our families and left us with no one. This war has been years in the making and we’ve worked hard to come this far… to a situation where we’ll at least get revenge if not see all the Devils dead. But he always wanted that revenge more than I did. That’s one of the secrets I do keep from him.
“I’ll be there soon, Joker,” I tell him. “I just gotta take care of something first.”
“What?”
“Something…” I say evasively.
“Just try not to drink too much,” he says. “I need you.”
“I haven’t even been drinking that much,” I tell him. And it’s the truth. I just didn’t need it after Karma showed up at the lake.
Karma and now Grim is another secret I’m gonna keep from him for a while yet. At least until I know there’s something to tell.
But there already is something to tell. I haven’t felt this alive and this energized in a very long time. It started with Karma at the cabin and it’s the reason I came with her to LA. Now a new chapter has opened up with Grim. I just gotta see how it ends before my own ends in that final battle with the Devils. And I don’t have much time to do that. I’m sure Joker would understand that if his head wasn’t so full of plans for that battle.
The bar is even louder and rowdier than it was when I left. It’s mostly because up on stage, some band is giving it their all and it ain’t much. Just more noise to add to all the rest of it, only this noise is amplified. But people are dancing and head-banging to it like there’s no tomorrow regardless.
Grim isn’t here anymore. It took me a while of elbowing my way through the crowd to realize that. Now I’m standing at the corner of the bar, ordering my second bourbon and still not thinking straight. It’s not like I wanted to find him here so we could have a conversation. And it’s not like I don’t know where to find him. He’s most likely in the hotel across the street, in the room I had to rent for him, in addition to the one I got for Karma and myself, because being fugitives and all, they don’t like to leave a trail. Not that the clerk did more than glance at my driver’s license, which is as fake as the one Karma and, I suppose, Grim are carrying around.
Before I had my first drink, I figured it would keep me from going to find him in the hotel. Because doing that might be sticking my head too far into the lion’s mouth, or however that saying goes. By the second one, that idea was growing fainter. And by the time I ordered the third, it started seeming like going to his hotel room is the only thing I can do.
I just can’t seem to get the guy, his hard cock or his manhandling ways, off my mind. Not that I’m particularly interested in getting manhandled. But damn it, I can’t even remember the last time anyone could get my mind off the war, vengeance and Joker’s schemes quite as well as first Karma, and now Grim, can. I owe it to myself to see it through. I’m enjoying this vacation way too much to just end it right as it got even better and go back to sitting around, waiting to die in the brutal battle that’s coming.
That third drink’s what did it. So now I’m standing at the door of room 54, across the hall from room number 52, which is the one I’m sharing with Karma. Or had been. Because I don’t know which she’ll choose when she gets back.
So maybe I’m about to knock because of that too. Because I don’t want her to not choose me. But that’s entirely too much thinking.
The door to his room is solid wood, but the depressing grey paint is chipped and peeling all over and a section looks like someone took an axe to it at some point. And quite possibly at whoever was on the other side of it at the time too. This whole hallway sure smells like someone died here and wasn’t found for a while.
Grim could very well take his knife to me.
And then I’ll have to stab him. Or shoot him. And Karma won’t like that. Maybe I should just let her make her choice and be done with this.
I’m nervous. Jittery like before a first date. Not that I’ve gone on enough of those to know. But I’m sure that’s where this overthinking indecisiveness is coming from. I haven’t been nervous or jittery, or indecisive for that matter, in so long I’d forgotten what it felt like. It makes me feel like an idiot.
So I bang on the door before it gets any worse. The door shakes, but doesn’t come off its hinges like I half expected it might.
“Who is it?” Grim asks from the other side of the door. He doesn’t sound in the best of moods.
“It’s me. Scorpio.”
He opens the door immediately. I’d expected him to ask more questions.
He’s still wearing his riding attire, complete with the riding pants, but minus the jacket he wouldn’t take off all the while we were at the bar earlier. The t-shirt he’s wearing is a little tight over his biceps and across the chest too, come to think of it. In a good way. I feel his eyes on me, the same blue lasers from before and I’m having trouble looking directly at them.
“What do you want?”
It’s a simple enough question. Wish I was sure I want to tell him the truth.
The room smells like that mixture of being on the road, riding hard, and whiskey. I find it very familiar and comforting.
“I thought we could finish what we started,” I say, opting for a middle of the road approach, one between the truth and staying on the safe side.
He laughs, a booming, warm kind of sound and it too somehow sounds familiar and comforting. He also opens the door wide and steps aside so I can enter. I don’t hesitate. Inside, it smells even more like home, despite the smell of dirt and that watered down, unscented bleach they always use to push that dirt around when they clean rooms like this one. It reminds me of my childhood with Honey. That’s why it seems so familiar. I guess. But one glance at his eyes still burning holes into me tells me the source of that familiarity is much closer in both space and time.
“Which part do you want to finish?” he asks. “The part where you almost stabbed me? Or something else?”
That intensity of his is like a cloud around him. And I’m sure it’ll burn just as bad as his eyes if I touch it.
“Something else,” I say and finally look him in the eyes, because fuck it. That’s why I came here. For the burn. “I figured I could suck your cock and then fuck you. How’s that sound?”
I shocked him. I can feel it in the ripple that passes over that tension around him. It’s like a jolt of electricity. I came here for that too.
“And you figured I’d just go along with that plan?”
His eyes are telling me something all on their own. But I’m not sure it’s a yes .
I shrug. “Like I said, we can start slow with a blow job.”
We’re still standing just inside the door, and I can see the whole room from here. There’s not much to it. A bed that’s still made and clearly shows the indentations because it should’ve been replaced decades ago, a closet that someone also took an axe to and a table and chair where Grim must’ve been sitting when I interrupted his solitary drinking. The bottle of Four Roses bourbon on the table is about half full. It’s a brand I’m partial to, although I usually don’t care much as long as it burns and gets me drunk.
“Unless you’re suffering from whiskey dick,” I add. “Or just old age.”
This time, an electric current passes through his eyes, and making them burn even hotter. In happens in the split-second right before he grabs the back of my head, pulls me into the room, then slams the door shut and pushes me against it, hard enough to rattle it. Then I can’t see his eyes anymore because his lips are on mine and so much is happening I’m having trouble keeping track of it all. That intensity that was just brushing me before is a living thing now, demanding entrance, just as hard as his tongue in my mouth is.
He’s a great kisser. Not too eager, not too rough, just rough enough to show that damn dominance that hangs like a shield around him. Familiar, yet so foreign, because I’ve never been kissed well enough to make my knees all wobbly like they are now. I can definitely see why Karma likes him.
But even that’s a very distant thought behind everything else rushing through my mind. Stuff I don’t ever want to unpack, because the way his whole weight is pushing me against the door, and the way his tongue is invading my mouth, wrestling with mine, is exactly why I knocked on his door tonight.
Didn’t even know that until just now.
The rough bristles of his five o’clock shadow are catching on mine, his hand is in my hair now, and his kiss is relentless. And the best part… this is just a fraction of his strength. I could get used to this. More than I’m willing to explore right now.
I’m breathless, my heart pounding and my thoughts still just a swirling mess in my head as he breaks the kiss. He keeps a firm grip on my hair as his eyes sear right through that confusion in my head.
“I’m ready for that blow job now,” he says in a hoarse voice that makes every hair on my body stand to attention. Along with my throbbing cock, which is begging to be released from my jeans.
I hear him unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper, and as much as I want to check out his cock, I can’t actually look away from his eyes.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Good.”
He laughs at that. A weird sound that’s neither dark, nor warm, just full of lust.
His hand is still a fist in my hair as he steps back, guiding me down to my knees. Not that I need much guidance. None of this dominating behavior bodes well for him letting me fuck him later, but right now that’s a distant thought too. Because his cock is so close to my lips now I can feel it pulsing. I can’t remember the last time, I was this excited to be down on my knees for a guy, stuck between a rock and a hard place, as it were. Usually, I like a lot more control than this.
His scent is this heady mixture of sweat and the clean air of the open road, and so unlike a woman’s it, as always, triggers a whole different part of my brain. Familiar in ways a woman never can be.
“What’s the hold up?” he asks hoarsely. “You scared?”
His fat cock is straining against the dark grey fabric of his boxers, and maybe I should be a little scared. But really, I just want to see it.
I was gonna take my time with it, but he’s impatient and yanks his boxers down before I can give him an answer.
His cock is every bit as fat as I expected, and long too. And he’s not even fully hard. It feels like a slap as it collides with my lips and cheek after finally being freed.
“Go on,” he says, and this time there’s a note of urgency in his voice riding the edges of his demand. Like maybe he’s afraid I’m gonna change my mind. I won’t.
I look up at him and smile, then grab his cock. Not gently, not too hard, just hard enough to show him he’s not the only one in control here. All of that makes him grip my hair tighter as he wobbles a little, and it only gets more pronounced as I stroke him. Oh, he wants this blow job from me. Bad. A few strokes is all he needs to grow fully hard, his cock throbbing as it strains against my palm.
Tasting his dick has been at the top of my to do list all night and there’s no way I can physically wait a minute longer now. Despite how much fun keeping him in suspense is.
He’s almost too wide to take. Good thing for him I like sucking cock. A lot. He sighs loudly and deeply as I take about half of him in my mouth, the shudder that passes through him vibrating against my tongue. There’s a lot more of that where this came from.
His fingers tense even harder in my hair and I can literally feel how much he wants to ram his dick all the way down my throat. Soon. Not yet.
I pull back to the head, using my tongue to graze the thick pulsing vein. And am rewarded with another shuddering sigh. And another as I let him inside again, deeper this time.
I do that a few more times, already feeling the soreness in my throat that I’m sure I’ll wake up with tomorrow. But it’s a small price to pay for getting a taste of this prime slab of meat.
The head’s hitting the back of my throat each time I let him slide in now and there’s still almost a hand span of him left to take. He’s losing the battle of letting me do this my way, at my pace. I can feel it in the pent-up tension that’s making the air between us pulse even harder than his cock.
I look up at him as his cock touches the back of my throat yet again, surprised to see him looking right back, the intensity in his eyes still there, but softer somehow, more like a jet than a single piercing point of light.
I don’t look away as I swallow the rest of him, barely managing not to gag. It’s been a minute since I’ve had anyone of his size. And with his resulting groan, his self-control is gone too.
He grips my hair tighter, his other hand like a vice against my shoulder to keep me in place as he pulls back and thrusts back in, over and over, bad enough to make my eyes water, but good enough that I do not want him to stop. I am gagging now, as his thrusts get wilder and deeper. His balls are slapping my chin, his face blurry because my eyes are watering so hard.
But I still see his blue laser eyes clearly. He’s close, I could already sense that, and he’s wordlessly asking me if he can finish. I nod. Because why the hell not? It’s why I came here. To taste all of him.
Which on the next shuddering thrust, I do.
He buries his cock all the way down my throat, shuddering and groaning as hot jets upon jets of his semen fill me. Much too much for me to swallow it all, but I give it my best shot. A lot of it trickles out and down my chin, especially after the last shakes subside and he starts growing soft.
His grip on me loosens and I let him slip out as I stand up, glad that he’s standing so close because my legs are none too dependable right now.
His eyes are burning into me in a whole different way now. There’s no sharp edge to the lasers anymore. Only a lot of light.
“That was not what I expected,” he says in a jagged sort of voice.
I grin at him. “What did you expect? More gagging?”
“For one thing,” he says quietly. “But also less satisfaction.”
Then he kisses me with the kind of urgency that suggests he’d like to do less talking so he doesn’t say too much. And I can understand that pretty well too. Talking’s overrated at the best of times and completely unnecessary at others. But that’s not quite the case right now.
“My turn?” I ask as soon as he gives me space enough to breathe.
His grin is downright sinister. And so damn inviting.
“We’ll see,” he says then kisses me again.
In a way that makes me completely unaware of losing most of my clothes as we move to the lumpy bed. I should take more control of all this. But his kissing is too good to argue with. I doubt he’ll make me do anything I don’t want to do. Blame the scent of whiskey in the air or the familiar lumpiness of the bed and the scratchy, bleached sheets for being so trusting of that.
Could be I’m completely wrong and this is all one giant mistake that will end badly. Could be it’s exactly what I want and need all rolled into some very good kissing.
I don’t have to know the truth of that yet. This is good enough for now. It’s just perfect.