Chapter 15 - Liam
FIFTEEN
LIAM
I’ve decided that while I don’t like camping, I do like camping with Ryker.
At this point, I think I’d like anything Ryker wants to do though, as long as it means he roughs me up and talks to me in that way of his that makes me feel like he’s on the verge of devouring me.
The fact that he could kill me at any point is mildly problematic. I should probably be more alarmed than I am, but I can’t muster up any sort of fear.
If I die, I die.
It’s stupid, but then, everything I’ve done to get Ryker’s attention has been dumb. He’s not wrong to call me an idiot, or a brat, or any other words he throws in my direction.
Of course, I sort of like it when he calls me brat. He’d never admit it, but it sounds affectionate rather than disparaging.
Or maybe I really am that much of a moron, to think that someone like me could be the object of his attention.
Water cascades over me, and I look down at my feet, grimacing at the floor of the shower stall. How many people have used this? How often do they clean it? It had smelled like bleach, but that didn’t mean anyone had scrubbed it thoroughly.
I’m going to get some kind of disease.
The cuts on my chest thankfully look like they’re going to heal cleanly, which is a good thing because I’m not sure how I could explain those to my doctor. He would not approve.
Neither would Maggie.
I grimace as I think about my best friend, who wouldn’t understand any of this. Definitely the murder bits, but she also wouldn’t get why I’m letting someone hurt me. I wouldn’t be able to explain the high I get if I tried, so there’s no sense in it.
She’d only nag and nag, and fuck, I really don’t feel like dealing with that.
I’ve never kept many secrets from her, but she’d disapprove of the ones I do have.
For obvious reasons.
The lengths to which I go to chase a high aren’t healthy; I know that much.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.
I turn the shower off and grab my towel from where it’s hanging from a hook near the stall door. That can’t be particularly sanitary either, and I sigh as I start to dry off. Ryker could’ve warned me about these conditions before, damn it.
I pull my clothes over my damp body, glad that I’d allowed the salesman to talk me into clothes that were more suited for hiking and less my usual style because those would not have gone on properly.
I step out of the stall, shuddering as my bare feet hit the concrete outside of it, and hurry to the bench to put on my shoes.
It’s probably too late; I’m sure I’m already diseased from whatever people have done around here.
Ugh.
“Did you actually get any hot water?” a guy sitting one bench over asks.
I glance at him.
He’s large and hairy, wearing only a towel and flip-flops.
I should have brought flip-flops. Why hadn’t Ryker warned me about that either?
But I’m more interested in the stranger in front of me than the chance of disease for the moment. The red hair on his head and beard continues down his chest and belly. I’ve never been much for bears, but he’s not bad looking.
And anyone looks good when they’re being strangled.
“Nope,” I say. “Lukewarm at best.”
Is it weird to carry on a conversation with him only being wrapped in a towel and nothing else? It feels weird. I hadn’t had a choice but to get dressed in the stall, even though part of me had wanted to show off the marks to whoever else had been in the showers.
They’d probably have been concerned, though, and blah blah blah.
I don’t need anyone’s concern.
I wonder if this guy would care.
I wonder what he would look like with the life being choked out of him. He’s too big for me to handle on my own, but with Ryker…
I look at the man with renewed interest. He could be fun.
Maybe I’m escalating a little too much, a little too fast, but who would connect a murder out here with the “toilet paper strangler” or whatever the fuck they’re calling me these days? Especially if we made sure no one would find the body for a while?
I lick my lips.
“You roughing it on your own?” I ask.
He laughs. “Yeah. Had to get away for a bit. My job makes me want to kill myself sometimes.” He reaches into his duffel bag and pulls out his clothes to get dressed. “What about you? You don’t look like the usual rugged, outdoorsy folk.”
Oh, he should be careful what he says. I’d happily take care of the “killing” part.
“That’s because I’m not,” I say with a sunny smile. “Got dragged here by my…” What is Ryker to me? Somehow, I don’t think he’d appreciate me calling him my boyfriend, and I’m not his partner by any means.
Yet.
“Person,” I decide on. “You should come back and have a few beers with us.”
“Yeah?” He finishes getting dressed, in clothing similar to mine, except considerably cheaper looking. “I’m Jimmy.”
“Nice to meet you, Jimmy. I’m Luke,” I tell him.
We could totally take him, especially if we drugged him first.
I wonder how Ryker would kill him. The thought of it makes my cock throb, and it threatens to harden in my pants. If I thought I look good in crimson, I can only imagine how sexy Ryker would be covered in someone else’s blood.
Jimmy checks his watch. “Yeah, why not. There’s no time for another hike, anyway.” He hefts his bag with the damp towels in it. “Where are you at? I’m at lot 33, I’ll drop my shit off first.”
“Lot 45,” I say. “Is that too far?”
“It’s fine. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” Jimmy waves and walks out of the little shower… rooms? Locker rooms? Restrooms? Whatever the fuck they call these dirty abominations.
I grab my stuff and rush out. Ryker is standing by the SUV, browsing on his phone.
“You get reception out here?” I ask, surprised and a little envious.
“Nope.” Ryker tilts his phone to me, and I see it’s one of those dumb “match three” games.
“Oh,” I say. I’m not sure whether I’m disappointed that there’s still no service out here or pleased because it means that Jimmy won’t get coverage either.
I’d kill to check my socials. They’re probably dying without me posting for three whole days.
I smile to myself at the words my thoughts choose.
“So I invited someone back to have beers with us,” I say. “His name’s Jimmy, and he’s over in lot 33.”
“Didn’t think you’d want to interrupt your little sexcation with other people,” Ryker says. He taps on his phone screen to make a match in the game, and shiny animations play out.
“Weeeell,” I drawl, sidling up to him to press a kiss to his cheek. “I thought we might take a break for some other games.” I give him my best puppy eyes. “He’s here alone and wow, his work makes him want to kill himself.”
Ryker tugs on my hair and finally puts his phone away. “Work is the biggest serial killer of them all.” He gets his keys out. “But it’ll be nice to talk to somebody who isn’t a brat.”
“You love that I’m a brat,” I huff, getting into the passenger side of the SUV. “Oh, by the way, I’m Luke, and I guess that makes you Rider.” I smile sweetly at Ryker. “See? I can be smart sometimes.”
“Sure, Luke.” Ryker drives us back to our campsite.
There aren’t too many others out here, either because it’s an unpopular spot or because summer vacation hasn’t started yet for most schools. Camping is a thing parents do with their kids, right?
My parents had never taken me camping. Our vacations were always in luxury resorts or private country clubs, and they usually ignored me the entire time.
“Do you think we could… you know?” I hedge, batting my eyelashes at him when he parks back at the campsite. “You could teach me how to be careful.”
“Rule number one of being careful: don’t let guys you barely know cut you in the middle of nowhere.” Ryker pulls the car into our lot, which is far removed from the other campsites. He must have picked it for that reason.
“That’s not a fun rule,” I tell him. “And you know what I mean, sensei.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Ryker insists. He parks the vehicle and gets out. “We’re here to enjoy nature. I told you it was going to be a boring trip. If you don’t like that, you can hitchhike back to the city.”
I let out a frustrated growl and follow him out to the tent. “I’d say you’re no fun, but you’re sort of fun when you let loose,” I tell him. “Just… be a little more fun! Take advantage of opportunities.”
“I am. I had the opportunity to fuck a stupid brat, and I took it.” Ryker walks over to the campfire. He’d tried to teach me how to light it yesterday, but after I’d failed too many times, he’d done it himself.
Somehow, he manages to get the fire started within two minutes. Even with matches and lighters, my fires lasted all of three seconds before going out again.
“You haven’t even fucked me yet,” I point out. “You came on me, and you made me jerk you off, but I haven’t come at all.”
Ryker glances up at me. The fire makes his eyes glow red. “Is that a problem?”
I huff. “Yes, actually.” But it’s not, or at least, it’s not enough of a problem for me to decide to hitchhike back to New Bristol over. “I want to come too! The cuts have mostly scabbed over, and who cares if I bleed a little more? Wouldn’t you like that?”
Ryker comes over to me, crowding into my space. I stand my ground, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I can even feel it in my throat.
He tilts my face up.
“You get to come when I tell you. Not before. Got it?” he growls.
My breath hitches, and I nod quickly. “Yeah. Got it. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to whine. I am a brat, after all, and what kind of brat would I be if I didn’t?”
Ryker rolls his eyes. “I’ll help you out before we return to New Bristol. Maybe. If you behave.”
“I always behave,” I reply, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.
Ryker grips my chin tighter and takes control of the kiss. I open for him, letting him explore my mouth while I cling to his shirt for balance.
I’ve kissed plenty of men before, even dominant men. Guys at clubs love tossing the skinny twink around.