28. Cameron
CAMERON
Resting his head on Basher’s chest, he slowly ran his fingers across the ridges of his six-pack. They were hard and firm, and softened ever so slightly when Basher took in his next breath of oxygen.
“Tell me about prison,” Cameron whispered, his breathing falling in rhythm with Basher’s.
It was still early in the morning, and the sun was barely over the mountaintops. They had made love several times throughout the night—some more actively than others.
Sex between the two of them was raw and passionate, violent and rough, with both of them covered in sweat and gasping for air.
Other times, their lovemaking was more tender and soft, playing with each other’s bodies while enjoying the tastes, smells, and touch of each other.
“What do you want to know?” Basher asked, slowly rubbing circles across Cameron’s naked back.
“I don’t know. What was it like? Why were you in there?”
Basher raised his head off his pillow.
“You slept with an ex-convict without even knowing the reason he was put in prison? What if I were a rapist or a murderer?” Basher asked, looking at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Cameron chuckled. “I know you aren’t a rapist or a murderer.”
“Well, I have killed people before for the club, but that was not the reason I was sent to prison.”
Cameron raised his head and looked at him.
“So, tell me what it was?”
Basher’s jaw tightened like he was debating whether or not to tell him.
“Well, one night I was having a drink at a bar when in walks Tony Caplan, son of the local mob boss and sworn enemy of the Death Cruisers MC. Naturally, the second Tony boy spotted me sitting there alone, wearing my club colors, he decided to stroll over and start running his mouth.
“And as you can probably guess, I’m not exactly the type to sit there and take that kind of shit.
So, being the polite gentleman that I am, I invited him and his six bed-buddies outside so we could continue our conversation in the parking lot.
Figured it was the least I could do for my favorite local watering hole.
Would’ve been a shame to trash the place.
“So we stepped outside, and after I rearranged Caplan Jr.’s face and took care of his other butt-buddies, the cops rolled up and caught me beating the hell out of seven guys with a baseball bat. Then, just to top it off, they found the drugs I had stashed on my bike.
“And that’s how I landed my ass in prison—aggravated assault with a weapon and drug-related offenses.
It seems that Caplan Sr. wasn’t too pleased with me whipping his boy’s ass, so he tried to have me taken out while I was in prison.
That’s how I got this scar here.” Basher rubbed his fingers across the scar on his stomach.
Cameron traced the scar, which was still warm to the touch. His fingers passed along the rough edges, committing to memory every groove and every notch.
“That’s also why I ended up here after I got out of prison. My boss said that the Caplan crew was still looking for revenge, so he thought it would be a good idea to lie low here for a few months or at least until things die down.”
“Do you think you might go back to Vegas when the Caplan crew is dealt with?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking that question, especially right now. But he needed to know. Before his heart became any more invested in this relationship, he needed to know whether they had a possible future.
“If you asked me three weeks ago, I probably would have said yes. But now that I’ve fallen under the spell of this magical ass, I don’t think my cock would let me leave, even if I wanted to.”
Cameron couldn’t help but smile. The guy was so sweet and had quite a sense of humor when he let his guard down and trusted someone.
“Good, because I can become a little possessive when it comes to people I care about. And as far as I’m concerned, that cock now belongs to me.”
Basher leaned down and kissed Cameron on the lips.
“Do you think your ass can handle another round?” Basher asked, already feeling his dick begin to thicken.
Cameron’s lips pulled back in a smirk.
“Okay, you got everything?” Basher asked as they walked toward the front door.
They were on their way to Ride ’em Hard to meet with the guys and figure out what to do about Cameron’s little stalker.
“Yeah, just grabbing my phone.” Cameron picked up his cell, then turned just as Basher was opening the front door.
“Oof!” Basher coughed as something large and heavy smashed him in the gut.
Cameron jumped back as three men rushed in through the front door, punching and kicking Basher as he lay on his back, arms up, trying to protect his face.
Something inside Cameron snapped. Rage flooded his veins, and without thinking, he hurled himself at the men.
One man clocked him in the face, sending him flying backward and crashing into the television.
“Leave him—" Basher started, but he was cut off by another round of kicks to his stomach and ribs.
“Basher!” Cameron screamed, scrambling to his feet, as two men picked Basher up by the arms while a third man punched him in the face.
The men dragged Basher’s semiconscious body outside, where a van was waiting, parked in their driveway.
The side door slid open, revealing two more men crouched inside. In one swift motion, they grabbed Basher and dragged him into the van just as Cameron burst out the front entrance.
“Basher! No!” Cameron screamed.
He lunged forward, but a figure stepped from the shadows and drove a fist into his jaw.
The pain was excruciating.
Cameron stumbled and fell to the sound of men climbing into the van.
The last thing Cameron remembered was watching the van door close on Basher’s limp, semiconscious body.
He reached out toward the van, hoping that somehow he would be able to grab hold of the door and cling to it for dear life.
But the world around him was getting so dark. It wasn’t evening, but all the sounds around him were beginning to fade.
Cameron tried his hardest to stay awake. He focused on the rusty, chipped van as it floored the engine, causing smoke to shoot up as the rubber melted into the asphalt just beneath its tires.
“Bash…” Cameron tried one last time.
He watched as the van sped away before disappearing around the corner.
The fight was useless.
The pull was too strong.
Cameron’s eyes slowly closed, and the darkness all around him finally consumed him.