One Step Too Close - Coffin Nails MC Louisiana (Gay Biker Stepbrother Romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 6) (9 page)

When he finally found
Ryder, it couldn’t have been any more disappointing. Tucked into a leather sofa
in the corner, he was locked in a sloppy kiss with one of the strippers Jed had
hired for him. Her naked breasts were brushing against Ryder’s shirt, caressing
his chest through the fabric. Her hand was in Ryder’s silky hair, the same way
Jed wanted his to push his fingers into that mane. Her ass, covered only by a
tiny thong, was moving back and forth over Ryder’s cock.

Jed couldn’t think straight
and went to the claustrophobic restroom by the kitchenette. As soon as he was
in there, he locked the door and started punching the wall, gasping for air. He
didn’t care about his knuckles hurting, and punched until at least some of the
image of Ryder with the stripper blurred. At times like this, he felt like
there was no saving him. Like the whole world was this dark, dirty restroom
with a ceiling so low he had to bow his head as he entered.

Jed tried to tell
himself that at least Ryder was having fun, but the scene also emphasized just
how much Jed wasn’t needed now. Once he left the restroom, slightly relieved
and aching in his hands, he wasn’t exactly
happy
to see Tom by the bar,
but he still headed his way. At least he wouldn’t be getting plastered on his
own.

Tom was swaying his
shoulders to the sides on the barstool as he drank two clear shots—maybe vodka
or tequila—in a row. He kept talking to a blonde woman probably twice the age
she posed to be, but the moment his eyes found Jed, the woman was forgotten.

Tom put his arm around
Jed’s neck and pulled him down so that they could hear one another. “Great
party!”

“Thanks. I need a drink,
because it seems like Ryder’s sorted out.” Jed pointed behind his back without
daring to look there.

Tom chuckled. “Someone’s
bitter,” he yelled into Jed’s ear.

“It’s his party.” Jed
shrugged and picked up a bottle of rum. After a moment’s hesitation, he just
drank straight from the bottle. He wanted to be out of focus, to forget Dana
existed, to have a hazy dream where he’d sit in Ryder’s lap, and Ryder’s hands
would go up and down
his
body.

Tom pressed close to
him, and they shared the bottle of mouth-burning liquor with arms around each other’s
shoulders. Tom was laughing at every comment Jed made, and that at least was
slightly comforting in this shitty ending of a day.

“I have something even
better,” was the sentence Jed had been waiting for, and he let Tom pull him
toward the doors at the back of the lounge, the ones only available to a select
few, but Jed, as a patch, could go anywhere in the clubhouse.

His mind was pleasantly
hazy, and the straight corridor winded in front of him like a snake. They
needed to find a quiet spot to chill out with the pills. It wasn’t like anyone
would miss him. The music, which muted down a bit after they exited the public
area, became louder for a moment, but he couldn’t care less and just followed
Tom, trying not to fall to his face.

Tom banged on the first
door he came across, and with no one calling back, he pushed inside the empty
room. It was cool, with a lingering scent of decay twisting somewhere at the
back of Jed’s nose as they both drunkenly stumbled into bed, laughing their
asses off when Tom slid to the floor. Not that Jed’s coordination was any
better.

Jed looked into the
lightbulb above, barely visible in the darkness. The mattress dipped as Tom
climbed on top of it and got to Jed on all fours, his mouth stretched into a
brilliant smile. “God, we’re so fucked-up,” he mumbled, rubbing the heel of his
hand against Jed’s forehead. His palm was hot and sweaty, so Jed pushed it off
with a groan.

His stomach was doing
flips, and the world spun around like the rotor in Ryder’s helicopter. “Where’s
the happy pills?” he slurred and gave in to gravity, falling with his back into
the dirty bedding. He turned to his side, and Tom’s warm body slowly pressed
against his back, sending a tingle of confused arousal to Jed’s dick.

“Wait... need to wait a
moment. My head’s spinning,” whispered Tom as his hand settled on Jed’s hip.

Jed stilled, suddenly
unsure of what was happening. But then on the other hand, he was so drunk he
couldn’t even tell if he was sleepy, or if his limbs gained weight. “Fine,” he
mumbled.

Tom sighed, and his
breath tickled Jed’s nape, deeming him mute. “You know what, Jed? Out of all
those guys here, I only like you, really. You’re this special kind of guy,” he
said with an ugly slur, but Jed couldn’t miss the way his hand moved down his
hip, brushing against the front of Jed’s pants. It sent Jed’s head into a whirl
of confusion.

Oh, God. Was this
happening? Did he want to do this? Tom thought he was special? Sure, they
always had a good time, but Tom also hung out with other guys. They played
guitar together though. Was Tom squeezing his dick now? The room was spinning
again and Jed closed his eyes to make it stop. He needed to focus right now,
and it wasn’t working.

“You’re hard,” muttered
Tom, and Jed wasn’t even sure it was true. His dick felt numb as Tom’s hand
squeezed over it. The pulsing came through thin walls, teasing Jed’s senses,
but the sound of his own zipper opening cut through the ambience with
surprising sharpness.

“I— I’m not… I mean…”
Jed considered looking back, but his body felt so stiff, and when he opened his
eyes again, the room was covered in colorful swirls. Tom’s hand slid into Jed’s
open pants, and despite the haziness, Jed did feel him grabbing his dick. A
man. Grabbing. His dick. Did he want this? Panic set in and made him pant when
Tom ground his stiff cock against Jed’s still clothed backside. Or at least he
thought
he still had his pants on. No, he couldn’t possibly feel a cockhead digging
against his crack if there was thick denim in between. He opened his mouth, but
instead of uttering a protest, he took a shuddery breath, unable to say no to
the touch. If he was to be screwed for almost getting a blowjob, maybe at least
he’d experience the reason for next week’s downfall once?

Then again, he was
queasy, unsure, out of his depth. He wanted dick, but not like this. Tom pushed
on his shoulder blade, dryhumping Jed slightly in excitement that left Jed with
growing anxiety. He reached back to push Tom away, get some time to think, but
he was pretty sure he missed Tom’s arm, shoving at air instead.

This was not good. He
should
fear none
, and he was scared of fucking Tom, a hangaround who he
considered a friend. As he was about to choke on the bile rising in his throat,
the light went on, and Jed had to blink when the sudden brightness stabbed his
eyes. A split second later, he found himself looking into Ryder’s horrified
face.

Ryder

Bells were ringing in
Ryder’s head so loudly he couldn’t focus on anything else but the tangle of
bodies on top of the mattress in the spare room. Tom’s eyes got wide the moment
he looked back, and in sloppy yet frantic movements, he tried to hide his
raging erection that moments ago had been poking Jed’s bare ass.

Jed looked back at Ryder
as if there was a gun pointed at him, but in the scramble to pull his pants
back on, he fell off the bed like a broken doll. He tried to say something but
was so drunk that Ryder couldn’t understand a word of the slurred speech. His
bare ass was on show when he tried to get to his knees, and his pants slid down
again. Hair covered half of Jed’s face, and he had to spit some out, looking
like he’d been on a five-day bender that hadn’t yet ended.

Ryder didn’t think as he
charged forward, grabbed Tom by the throat, and tossed him to the floor. Rage
fueled blow after blow as he climbed on top of the sluggish body, not even
delivering punches anymore but banging his fists blindly against the skull that
miraculously hadn’t cracked open yet. It took him a while to realize Tom wasn’t
moving anymore, lying under Ryder like a crash test dummy after meeting the
wall. Ryder fought for breath, staring down into the crushed nose and bloodied
lips, but when he looked up at Jed, it almost felt like there was a glitch in
his brain, as it was all slo-mo.

At least Jed’s pants
were back on, but he was still frantically struggling with his belt buckle,
like a cat trying to put thread through a needle. It was a hopeless attempt.

Ryder pushed himself up
despite the softness in his knees, grabbed Tom by the ankle, and pulled him to
the door. He didn’t want this prick anywhere near Jed. Not anymore. He’d kill
him next time. Tom must have woken up because he moaned something in a high-pitched
tone.

Ryder opened the door
with his shoulder and dragged the fucker into the corridor, then straight
toward the lounge, where conversations died down at the sight of him, and the
bloodied pulp of Tom’s face. Even the music went quiet, effectively turning all
attention to the pathetic sight.

Mikey was the first
person to approach Ryder through the crowd. “What the fuck happened?”

Ryder took a shuddery
breath as panic settled in his chest. He couldn’t think of an excuse, and he
couldn’t reveal how close Tom had been to putting his dick into Jed. The mere
thought of it had Ryder wanting to punch the fucker’s teeth out one by one.
“Not the time for this,” he growled in the end. “This fucker leaves town, or
I’m gonna come for him!” His eyes searched for Grease’s head, and not finding
it, he yelled, “Prospect!”

Grease appeared at his
side in a few seconds, and it looked like he’d followed the order he got at the
beginning of the party and was sober.

“Yes?”

“Get him home and make
sure he packs up by tomorrow,” growled Ryder. He looked down into Tom’s eyes,
one of which was freakishly red around the green iris, and spat into his
red-streaked face. “You’re done in this town, motherfucker!”

Someone put a hand on
his shoulder, and Ryder pushed it off, only to realize it was Wolver. “What’s
happening here?” he asked, but Ryder was sure his father’s interest wasn’t out
of pity for Tom. He too had been complaining about the guy hanging out with
Jed.

Ryder gritted his teeth
and leaned closer so that only his father could hear. “Got Jed fucked up and
was stealing from him when I entered.”

Wolver wouldn’t doubt
that for a second. He added a kick to Tom’s stomach for good measure. “This is what
we get for too much fucking hospitality.”

Tom grunted, trying to
roll into a ball, but Grease was already helping him up.

Ryder took a deep breath
and forced himself to smile, even though his chest was caught up in a storm.
“The rest of you, have fun. It’s my party, remember?”

His words eased the
tension in the room, and Mikey raised his beer to Ryder. “Good to have you back
brother!” he yelled over the music as Tom disappeared with Grease. “How about a
drink now?”

Ryder laughed, though it
was the last thing he wanted. “Later. Gotta talk to Jed first,” he said and
gave Mikey an appreciative pat on the back. They exchanged a few more words,
and Ryder stormed back into the corridor. He groaned, seeing that Jed had
somehow left the room but not being able to stand, he was crawling toward the
staircase in the back on his hands and knees. He must have given up on the belt
buckle, because it jangled with his every move.

“For fuck’s sake,”
moaned Ryder and rushed over to Jed’s side. “What are you doing?” he asked,
pulling Jed up, which proved to be a laborious task with the body so limp it
constantly slid out of Ryder’s arms. Jed smelled like a pirate who got his
hands on a barrel full of rum.

“I’m…” Jed grabbed onto
Ryder when his legs swayed to the side, but the rest of the words coming out of
his mouth were unintelligible.

Ryder wanted to talk,
but it would be no use with Jed in this state. Anger was replaced by a sense of
purpose. “You need to puke?” he asked, already dragging the living dead man
toward the restroom farther down the corridor. A more secluded one, where no
one would see Jed in this sorry state.

Jed nodded, holding on
to Ryder’s side. “I don’t feel well,” he mumbled.

“Come on,” said Ryder,
dragging Jed all the way into the large bathroom, which was mostly empty
because of its size. He locked the door and helped Jed kneel by the toilet,
gently pulling his hair back. “Jed, did you take something or is it just
booze?” he asked, speaking as clearly as he could. If Tom gave Jed some weird
shit, he needed to know, just in case.

But instead of
answering, Jed threw up. And then a few times more. His whole body trembled,
and despite Ryder’s fury and confusion, he held Jed’s hair and gently stroked
his back. Jed’s irregular panting began slowing down after a few minutes.

“I need some air…” Jed
rasped.

“Sure. Are you better
now? Can I leave you for two seconds to get some water?” asked Ryder, stroking
Jed’s back. As angry as he was about what he saw, he recognized it probably
wasn’t Jed’s fault. There would be time to talk once Jed stopped the carousel
spinning in his head.

Jed took a deep breath
and nodded. “Better…” He looked up at Ryder slowly, and despite his gray skin
and bloodshot eyes, he still made Ryder feel tender on the inside. He’d been
right to worry about that fucker Tom passing Jed drugs.

Ryder picked up a bottle
of water from the nearby storage room, and then helped Jed out of the clubhouse
through the back door. It was much more peaceful here, and they sat down on a
secluded bench, with Jed heavily leaning against Ryder’s shoulder. Ryder forced
half the contents of a bottle of water down Jed’s throat before he was ready to
just let him enjoy the cool air. Jed’s breathing was slow and stable, even
though he shivered every now and then as they watched the bright stars above
the clubhouse. Ryder wasn’t sure what to think, or whether Jed would even
remember what happened by tomorrow, but this issue had to be addressed. Had
this kind of thing happened before? Was this what he was getting up to when Ryder
was in jail? Was it yet another thing Jed struggled with because of his life
getting out of control? Ryder
needed
to know.

Jed drank some more
water on his own and cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy. “I
never… I mean… I don’t know what he was thinking.”

Ryder exhaled and rubbed
his face, leaning forward. If Jed knew what he himself had been up to behind
bars, that would have made all and any arguments Ryder might make invalid.
“Damn, Jed, I told you you’re getting fucked up too much. What if I hadn’t come
after you? This guy was about—” He choked on the last words, not even wanting
to think of another man anywhere near Jed. And the worst thing was that while
he was genuinely shocked at the thought of someone molesting Jed while he was
so defenseless, there was a quiet but persistent voice at the back of Ryder’s
head that growled its rage about someone else’s hands—someone else’s dick—touching
what Ryder secretly believed was his.

Jed was taking long
steady breaths of cool air as he looked at an old car that Dark once acquired
with the intention to renovate, but which at some point started blooming with
rust. Just like many other things within the complex around the clubhouse, it
was a testimony of how neglectful they’d all been. And with Jed constantly
getting into trouble, Ryder felt the weight of responsibility growing on his
shoulders.

“I don’t think he gave
me anything. He wanted to, but we never got to that.”

Ryder wasn’t sure how to
understand that. Was Jed defending Tom? Was he saying he wasn’t all that drunk?
He couldn’t even stand up at the time.

“Do you even remember
what happened? He pulled down your pants and wanted to fuck you.”

Jed wouldn’t look at
him, just staring ahead with his expression like a puzzle Ryder couldn’t solve.
“I know. It’s fucked-up.”

“So stop defending him.
I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t get close to you ever again,” said Ryder,
raising his voice without meaning to. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face
again. What was he to do? Everything was going to shit the moment he stopped
keeping tabs on it. Ripper was slowly recovering, but he couldn’t really
control his body like he used to, and his brain had glitches, so he was likely
to completely retire very soon. This night was probably just the tip of the iceberg
of issues no one wanted to tell him about while he was in jail.

Jed looked at him with
his eyes glossy in the faint light of a halogen in the backyard. “I was hard,”
he whispered.

Ryder stopped breathing
and looked at Jed as his heart seemed to climb into his throat. “What?”

“You wouldn’t tell
anyone, right? Don’t hate me, please. I need to tell someone. I’ve had these
feelings for a long time. I think I’m going crazy. I try to avoid them, I don’t
watch porn with it, I don’t do anything about it, but it’s
there
, deep
inside of me, and I can’t help it.” The words came like a flood Ryder needed to
block as soon as possible. He would be the strong, cement dam Jed needed right
now.

He gave a shuddery
breath, too choked up to speak right away. He’d failed Jed. He hadn’t seen the
darkness creeping upon him. There must have been signs that he missed, and the
worst part was that the dark voice in his brain was telling Ryder to kiss Jed.
Maybe if he wanted men, he wouldn’t refuse and let Ryder have just that much. But
that would have been wrong. It would have been worse than what Tom did, a
betrayal of trust Ryder would never commit against Jed.

“I won’t tell anyone.
And I don’t hate you, promise,” he said, knowing he needed to get that part out
of the way first. The next things he’d say had to be precise, without any room
for misinterpretation. “You’re not alone, you know. All guys fight against
this. Men are easy. They won’t make a fuss about sucking your dick, won’t get
clingy for no reason. We’ve all been there, but that’s not the thing to do,
Jed. You have a pretty lady at home. If she’s not what you need, find another
one, or sleep with the hangarounds. You know they’re up for biker dick.” Ryder
took a deep breath, watching Jed tremble slightly and soak up each word.

Jed gave Ryder his
undivided attention, making the pressure to make his words matter even
stronger. “But once you give in to it, it’s like getting high on crack. It just
draws you in, and before you know it, you’re a wreck. That’s why you can’t make
that choice. This is the crucial part. What do you think’s gonna happen if this
news got out? The guys aren’t gonna be fine with it. The world’s not fine with
this kind of stuff, and for good reason,” said Ryder, even as his inner voice
called him a hypocrite. He had nothing in his defense, and as shame settled in,
he knew he couldn’t let Jed spiral out of control like he himself had.

He’d always loved women,
but the fucking with Max had been so wild and intense. He didn’t have to worry
so much about making him feel uncomfortable, because Max wasn’t frail in any
way. It was just so easy to approach a man, and he had to resist a temptation
that now was stronger than ever before, sitting right next to him. Even the
lapdance he got from the stripper felt both pleasurable but oddly mild after
such a long time of being parted from women.
He
would somehow climb out
of this slippery well, but Jed was not good at resisting temptation. He needed
structure.

“What about some other
guys who do it…? Like the Nomad guy… He seems to be doing fine,” Jed spoke in a
small voice, and Ryder knew he needed to intervene before those thoughts got
any more intense in Jed. Not to mention that he’d had no idea something like
this had been even growing in Jed. He didn’t want to think about it, but green,
slimy drops of jealousy dripped into his gut when he thought about some fucker
kissing Jed, and Jed allowing it to happen.

“Don’t say such things.
He chose to go down that road, and he’s only tolerated because of the jobs he
does for the club. That’s why he’s a Nomad—no one wants him around. You know
yourself that it’s not normal. It’s just as dangerous for you as the drugs that
Tom has been feeding you. I’m not gonna let you end up as a sad fag!”