9. Cameron
CAMERON
It was a Thursday night, and Cameron was on closing. Alexis had already gone home, leaving him to finish up. The mugs were loaded into the washer, the bar wiped down, and all that remained was to replenish the stock.
He glanced down at his phone on the bar counter. It was too late to call her. By now, she would be fast asleep, and there was no point in waking her. He would go see her later in the week. There was nothing he could do at this point.
“Okay, I’m heading out. You okay on your own?” Marcus asked as he walked past the bar, heading to the door.
Cameron nodded.
“Say hi to Gavin for me.” Gavin was Marcus’s boyfriend and better half. He was the sunshine to Marcus’s storm clouds.
“Will do.”
Once Marcus had left the bar, Cameron locked the front door, then headed into the back to grab the last of the stock that needed replenishing.
He frowned as he stepped into the basement.
The place was a mess. Half-open boxes were strewn across the floor, bottles scattered between them and the shelves as if someone had started putting everything away and then suddenly given up.
It looked like the kind of chaos left behind when something—or someone—had pulled their attention away.
Probably Ace and Blade. The two had a tendency to pop a boner, then run off to fuck in the nearest closet or restroom.
Or perhaps it was Lucas and Caden. Those two had a fucking-in-public fetish. Cameron couldn’t count the number of times he’d walked out into the parking lot and caught them fucking outside.
Or maybe it was Niko and his partner, Reid.
Those two liked to sneak in quickies while Niko was working the doors…
but it could also have been Marcus and Gavin.
The boss was a little more conservative about fucking in front of his staff, but Gavin could be very demanding and usually got what he wanted whenever he wanted.
So if Gavin was horny enough, he could have ordered Marcus to give him dick, and the boss would have complied.
Glancing around the room, he suddenly realized that all his coworkers were horny animals getting way more dick than he was. And he was a goddamn camboy!
Or at least he tried to be.
Most of his videos lately had been solo jerk-off scenes.
Something quick and easy, just to keep his fans interested.
Finding a guy to collaborate with was exhausting and took a lot of work.
Yes, the scenes were more fun because, well, dick!
But having to find someone, then coordinate schedules, and discuss limits and boundaries just seemed like so much work…
Cameron sighed.
He’d better get this shit cleaned up. The longer he procrastinated, the later he would have to stay.
Pulling out his cell, he opened his “Fun Times” playlist, then hit Play.
At least some music would help pass the time.
He opened the first box, then began placing the expensive liquor on the empty shelf in front of him. He would have to remember to bring some of these bottles upstairs after he was done.
Once the half-open boxes were emptied and shelved, he began fixing the stock, rearranging items so they made fucking sense.
They had bottles of gin mixed in with whiskey, and beer cases mixed in with wine.
They had wine? Who the fuck knew? Why wasn’t any of this being sold upstairs?
Was this wine even meant to be sold?
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew who the Shadow Vipers were and what they represented. Marcus and his crew were an outlaw biker gang that engaged in certain… criminal activities that weren’t exactly discussed during staff meetings or in one-on-one coaching sessions.
Perhaps these wine cases had fallen off a truck and were meant to be sold for… other purposes.
Cameron’s gaze slowly drifted to his right.
At the other end of the basement, there was a large metal door that no one was allowed to enter. Only a few of the guys who worked for Marcus ever went back there, which Cameron assumed was where all the other illegal contraband was stored.
He didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t want to know what was back there.
He was well paid and enjoyed working for Marcus and his crew. Cameron really didn’t care how his boss made all his money. So long as he wasn’t raping people, trafficking humans, or hurting children, Cameron really didn’t care.
And behind his growly facade, Marcus was a big teddy bear who cared deeply about the people around him and his community. He didn’t have it in him to conduct any of the horrible acts that seemed to run rampant in so many parts of the world.
Staring at the top shelf in front of him, he frowned.
Someone had thrown a box up on top but didn’t bother to push it all the way back. It was only a matter of time before someone moved a bottle and the box came tumbling down.
“Damn it,” he muttered, grabbing a stepladder and pulling it next to the shelf. Unlike some of the other guys who worked at the bar, Cameron was not a tall-ass beast.
Stepping onto the top step, he stretched up, trying to reach the unstable box. Even on his tiptoes, he barely managed to reach it.
Okay, this was getting embarrassing.
Forcing himself higher, he finally reached the edge of the box and was able to push the damn thing back.
Feeling triumphant, he raised his arms above his head, giving himself a well-deserved cheer.
Bad move.
The stepladder shifted beneath his weight.
“Whoa!” Cameron shouted, losing his balance and suddenly falling toward the floor.
He didn’t fall far before a pair of large, muscular arms wrapped around his body, catching him and pulling him tight against a solid chest.
The familiar, masculine scent he knew so well suddenly flooded his senses.
Cameron took in a breath and almost creamed himself.
The man smelled like dude and sweat, two of his favorite scents in the entire world.
For a moment, he thought he had died and gone to gay heaven.
Once his brain had finally come back online, he looked up into the gentle gray eyes of his savior—Basher.
Cameron’s body suddenly stiffened when he realized that Basher’s amazingly hot body was firmly pressed against him.
Now he was truly certain he had died and gone to gay-boy heaven.
“Oh! Hey! Umm, thanks! You saved my ass,” Cameron gushed, suddenly forgetting how to talk and act like a human.
He was okay with speech when he was low-key stalking Basher and watching his every move from afar. But when the guy showed up out of nowhere and wrapped his muscular body around him… all sense of thought and speech disappeared.
“You okay?” Basher asked in his usual growly voice. The man wasn’t much of a talker, but when he did talk, he had the ability to make anyone’s panties wet.
Cameron nodded, partly because he was embarrassed for being such a klutz and partly because all his blood was rapidly flowing away from his brain and down to his cock.
Basher set him down gently on solid ground but didn’t remove his hands from his hips.
Neither of them moved or said a word. They simply stood there, lost in each other’s gaze.
Basher’s hands rested firmly on Cameron’s hips, while Cameron’s fingers curled gently around his bulging biceps.
The silence stretched on between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts and a tension neither seemed willing to break.
If there was one moment Cameron could make last forever, it would be this one.
As he gazed into Basher’s pale-gray eyes, he didn’t see the fearsome biker so many others claimed to see.
Instead, he saw a man struggling to find his place in a world that seemed determined to reject him.
A world that didn’t embrace differences or unconventional appearances, that looked down on anything it didn’t understand, and that treated anyone who strayed from society’s narrow definition of “normal” as an outsider.
Gazing up into the eyes of his silent Hero, Cameron used all his self-control not to lean up and kiss him.
Slowly, he felt the warmth from Basher’s body pull away from him. The loss of his touch was already heartbreaking.
Cameron cleared his throat once Basher’s hands had dropped from his body.
“Sorry, I tried to fix that box and must have lost my footing.” He pointed up at the mostly fixed box and felt his cheeks begin to flush.
Eyes still locked on Cameron’s, Basher reached up and slid the box back a few more inches.
The bastard didn’t even have to stand on his tiptoes or use the stepladder or anything.
Chuckling, Cameron turned and headed for the stairs.
“So, what are you doing here? I thought everyone had gone home for the night?”
“Was fixing a leak in the men’s restroom. The sink was dripping,” Basher explained.
A man who knew how to fix things. God, could this guy get any hotter?
They walked up the stairs and back into the main bar.
Shit. He had forgotten to bring up the stock they needed for tomorrow.
Fuck it. He would come in early and grab it before they opened. He had been humiliated enough for one night. He didn’t have to add forgetful idiot to the mix.
“Are you all done?” Basher asked, following close behind him.
“Yup. You?”
Basher nodded.
They both headed out the front door before Cameron turned to lock it.
“Well, thanks for saving my life tonight,” Cameron joked, giving him a gentle smile.
Basher nodded.
A man of few words.
“Well, have a good night,” Cameron added, turning and beginning to walk toward his apartment.
The next thing he knew, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed right behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Basher following a few paces back.
“Oh, do you live this way as well?”
Cameron wasn’t exactly sure where Basher lived, but the man was walking with him in the same direction.
Basher shook his head.
Cameron came to an abrupt stop, nearly getting plowed over by Basher’s massive body.
“Oh, so are you going out somewhere or something?”
“No. It’s late. I’m just making sure that you get home safe.”
Cameron stopped breathing, and his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
Who even did that anymore? Who went out of their way to walk someone home simply to make sure they were safe?
Or perhaps Basher was after something else?
Smart people would be concerned if a big, scary biker followed them home late at night…
just to make sure they were “safe.” But not him.
Cameron thought this was the most romantic gesture he had ever experienced.
And hey, if the man decided to follow him into his apartment and have his way with him? Who was he to argue?
Gay men had a tendency to put themselves in dangerous situations all in the name of getting good dick.
They met up with random men late at night in dark parks.
They invited strangers into their homes with the promise of getting plowed hard and deep, and they even allowed men nearly twice their body size to walk them home, secretly hoping they would follow them into their apartment and have their way with them… rough and hard.
Jesus… perhaps we need to be studied? Cameron thought to himself.
Although the thought of being trapped under all that still had Cameron’s dick extremely hard.
Cameron couldn’t help but smile.
“First, you save me from falling, and now you make sure I get home safe. Basher, I think you might be the sweetest man I have ever met.”
Basher’s cheeks flushed as his gaze shifted toward the ground.
It appeared that Basher had a bit of a shy side as well.
They continued walking toward Cameron’s home. He lived in a one-bedroom apartment, about a fifteen-minute walk from the bar.
“So, how are you liking Baton so far?” Cameron asked, dragging his feet as they walked. He wasn’t in a hurry to reach their final destination.
“It’s good.”
Okay… Usually, people gave more than one-word answers.
“So, where did you move from?”
“Vegas,” Basher answered, completely unaware of his social faux pas.
Cameron risked a glance over at Basher. “You don’t really talk much, do you?”
Basher shrugged. “Sometimes.” His eyes glanced in Cameron’s direction before moving back to focus on the path ahead of them. “I like listening to you talk.”
Once again, Cameron’s heartbeat quickened. At this rate, his heart was going to become an expert runner by the end of the month, given how hard it was pounding whenever he was around Basher.
Cameron smiled. “Well, I like to talk, so I guess that works out.”
For the rest of the walk, he explained how he’d ended up in Baton. He’d moved there from Roswell about a year earlier, drawn mostly by the lower cost of living. He’d worked as a bartender throughout college, so when he asked Marcus for a job, he was hired immediately.
Throughout it all, Basher remained silent, quietly taking in Cameron’s words—or at least giving him that impression.
When they arrived at his third-floor walk-up, Cameron’s heart rate quickened once again.
Was he really about to invite this man in? Take him up to his bedroom and ride him till the early morning hours?
His dick twitched, announcing its support. It had been painstakingly hard the whole walk home, and now that they were here, his cock was demanding its reward.
“Do you want to come up for a drink or something?” Cameron heard himself ask.
It was strange asking a man up to his apartment in person.
Usually, he just logged on to one of the many gay apps he used and messaged guys until he found one who was horny and willing.
There was usually a brief exchange of pictures, followed by a quick location share, before leaving the door unlocked so a random stranger could come in and fuck him.
It was quick, impersonal, and never nerve-racking.
See? We should be studied.
Standing there, waiting for a response, was like standing in an STD clinic, waiting for the results of your rapid test—breath locked in his chest, tension creeping in, every second dragging longer than the last.
Basher turned and ran his thumb across the contours of Cameron’s face.
His touch was so soft and gentle. Not what you would have expected coming from someone with rough, calloused hands that were covered in tattoos.
“Maybe next time,” he whispered, lowering his hand and tucking it into his jeans. “Night, Cameron.”
He turned and began walking back the way they came.
Cameron stood there, stunned and confused.
Had he said something wrong? Had he misread the entire situation? Perhaps Basher wasn’t interested in him.
The whole situation had him reevaluating every interaction they had shared over the past few weeks.
Swallowing hard, Cameron pulled open the door and headed into his building.