Chapter 5 #2
Kota gave a nervous laugh, voice tight. “First of all, I’m riddled with anxiety.
My body goes into fight or flight if someone tries to get me to pick a restaurant for dinner.
So…there’s that. But also, you’re huge.” He dropped his gaze to the wet fabric clinging to his skin, the imprint of his large cock unmistakable.
And he wasn’t even hard.
He heard Walker snort out a laugh, reminding Kota he could see him blatantly staring at his dick.
“Also, not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re a murderer. And not just a one off. You’re a professional killer,” he said, as if Walker didn’t know. “That would be your entire LinkedIn headline. Murdery Truck Driver.”
His words tumbled out faster and faster, nerves making him ramble.
Walker was grinning now, but Kota couldn’t stop the word vomit. “Just get in, please?” He scooted over until his shoulder brushed the wall. “Please?” he said, voice squeaking in a way nobody would find sexy. Or dignified.
This had to be the most embarrassing moment of his life.
Walker studied him until Kota started to squirm, finally letting him off the hook by saying, “Okay.”
There was something predatory in both his tone and his movements. Unhurried. Like he already knew exactly how this would go.
Kota’s mouth went dry as Walker hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, then slowly pushed them down before kicking them off. Kota blinked rapidly, heart racing.
Walker slipped under the blanket, then moved close until their bodies touched. “Body heat works best when we’re both naked, right?”
Kota nodded with a little too much enthusiasm, pulling another raspy laugh from Walker.
It was clear he was teasing him. He went still as a statue beside the older man, continuing to stare up at the ceiling, like it held all the world’s secrets.
But nothing could stop him from noticing the solid heat pressed along the entire side of his body.
“You sure you’re okay?” Walker asked, amusement evident in his rumbly voice.
“I-Is Walker your last name?” Kota blurted.
“No.”
Kota frowned. “What’s your last name?”
Walker stretched his arm until he grabbed his pants, fishing his wallet from the wet fabric, before returning to lay beside him. He handed his wallet to Kota.
He flipped it open. Walker’s license was front and center. He wasn’t lying. Walker wasn’t his last name. It also wasn’t his first name. His full name: Ulysses Walker Hayes.
Kota snickered. “Ulysses?”
Walker shrugged. “It’s a family name. Honestly, I’m just surprised my parents spelled it right. Neither of them had more than a third grade education.”
“Where was your mom when your dad tried to kill you?” Kota asked. “Is that too personal?”
Walker glanced at him. “Nah, squirrel. Ask whatever you want.” He was quiet for a minute before he said, “My mom was there. Well, as there as anyone as high as she was could be. My parents weren’t just addicts, they were cooks.
Meth. And it wasn’t a Breaking Bad situation.
They weren’t smart. If I hadn’t killed my dad, he probably would’ve blown himself up at some point. ”
“That must have been hard growing up,” Kota said.
Walker shrugged. “I was good at staying out of their way. I learned real quick how to sleep in my makeshift fort, how to get food from the church or my neighbor down the street. I was basically feral. I’m pretty sure that’s why I wasn’t taken from them like my siblings.”
“You have siblings?” Kota gasped.
“So they tell me. Six of ‘em. They were all with the state before I was even born. My mom was high on her own supply with all of us except maybe my oldest brother and even that’s unlikely.”
“Don’t you want to know about them?” Kota asked.
Walker shook his head. “No. I have no interest at all in rekindling any familial ties. I prefer being alone.”
“Oh,” Kota said, chest caving in on itself.
They fell silent for a while. “Did you buy this rig like this?” Kota heard himself ask. “Or did you have it made? Is that a thing? Pimp My Rig or whatever?”
He didn’t really care about the truck. He just needed a distraction. One that didn’t make him feel like a stupid kid with a crush. Anything to keep himself from thinking about how good Walker smelled this close.
Walker looked around. “I had it custom designed. Figure if I’m gonna spend my life in it, it might as well be functional and comfortable.”
Kota nodded, relaxing a bit, noting how their bodies touched from shoulder to thigh. Every point of contact felt magnified, his skin hyperaware of the weight and warmth beside him. “That couldn’t have been cheap.”
Walker made a noncommittal sound.
Kota’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. He had to fight the urge to roll over and bury his face in the other man’s chest. What was wrong with him? He’d never felt such an intense attraction to someone before. Was it because he was a killer and Kota loved making bad decisions?
Probably. But he didn’t care.
He just wanted to feel the older man’s weight on top of him, his rough hands on his bare skin, his mouth on his. The thoughts hit so hard and fast it almost made him dizzy.
Kota had been kissed a lot, by a lot of people. It was usually whatever. But the way Walker kissed him made his blood feel fizzy.
“Walker?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever had a…person?”
Walker rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand to look down at him. “Like a relationship?”
“Yeah.”
Walker shook his head. “How would I manage that? I live on the road ninety-five percent of the time. I kill people and dispose of their bodies. Any one of those things is usually enough of a reason not to bother. Besides, I don’t think I have the emotional capacity to make someone happy.”
“Oh,” Kota said again.
Walker examined his face. He slipped his hand under the blanket, resting it on Kota’s belly. “Did that upset you?”
“No,” Kota lied, faking a smile. “I-I get it.”
“If you have something to say, just say it, squirrel. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Kiss me?”
A look of surprise came over Walker, but he didn’t hesitate, dipping his head to brush his lips over Kota’s. His whole body tingled at the contact, cock already leaking. Walker’s hand caressed his belly, then slid upwards to tease at one nipple.
“Feels good,” Kota gasped into his mouth.
Walker made a sound low in his chest, sending heat spiking through Kota’s blood. Walker kissed him like he was trying to absorb him, each kiss melting into the next, his tongue soft over Kota’s.
Walker rolled on top of him without waiting for an invitation, settling between Kota’s thighs just as his tongue slipped past his lips. Kota’s hands snaked around Walker’s neck, letting him take what he wanted. He hooked a leg over Walker’s hip, trying to pull him even closer.
The weight of him was overwhelming in the best possible way—solid, warm, impossibly real.
Walker grunted his approval, rocking his hips against Kota’s. The sound vibrated straight through him, hot and filthy and impossibly satisfying. Walker bit Kota’s lower lip, pulling another low whine from him.
God, he was so large, so heavy on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. The roughness of it should have startled him, but instead, it sent heat racing through his bloodstream.
Kota took the chance to look his fill, letting his hands roam over the broad expanse of Walker’s chest, biting his lips as his fingers traced the trail of hair below his navel. His skin was warm beneath Kota’s palms, solid muscle shifting under his touch.
Walker slipped an arm under Kota’s knee as he surged forward once more. This opened Kota even more, allowing Walker’s cock to grind against his own in a way that felt like pure bliss injected straight into his nerves.
Kota’s mouth found Walker’s again, hoping to stifle the helpless little noises that Walker seemed to swallow like air. Like he wanted to keep every sound Kota made for himself.
He kissed Kota like he couldn’t get enough of him, like he was his new favorite drug. Hungry and thorough, like he intended to consume him completely.
But that couldn’t be true. Kota was getting way too ahead of himself.
Walker’s lips pulled from his, trailing down his neck to his chest. Every brush of his mouth left heat blooming in its wake.
Kota felt a little like he was hyperventilating, his whole body one live wire.
His eyes rolled back as Walker’s mouth closed over his nipple, Kota’s hips bucking up against his will.
He groaned when his dick collided with Walker’s again.
He chased the shocks of heat that sparked through him each time they collided. “Oh, fuck. Why does that feel so good?”
Walker chuckled, but moved to lick over his other nipple, teasing over the tightened peak as Kota’s fingers threaded through the older man’s hair, pressing him closer. The strands were soft between his fingers despite everything else about Walker feeling rough and dangerous.
“Fuck me,” Kota whispered.
Walker pulled back, meeting his gaze. “Yeah?”
Kota nodded almost too quickly. “If—only if you want to.”
His pulse was pounding so hard he could feel it everywhere.
Walker arched his brow. “Only if I want to? Has anyone ever said no to you before?”
The adrenaline firing through Kota’s system made him too nervous and horny to lie.
“More than you’d think.” That just made him sound like a whore.
“Well, no, not like that. I mean, look, I’m a guy.
I like—” His face collapsed when Walker started laughing.
“I’m just saying I’m a lot better at…receiving than giving, so don’t set your expectations too high. ”
God, why was he talking so much?
Walker kissed him again, still laughing.
“Where the hell did you even come from?” he asked against Kota’s lips, sounding fond, like he thought Kota was funny.
The softness in Walker’s voice hit him almost harder than the dirty talk might. Almost.
He assumed it was a rhetorical question since Walker swept his tongue back inside his mouth before he could answer. Kota was dragged back under the heady fog of lust rolling over him.