Sex & Mayhem 01 Road of No Return (11 page)

Read Sex & Mayhem 01 Road of No Return Online

Authors: K.A. Merikan

Tags: #tattoo, #motorcycle club, #mc, #Gay, #outlaw, #violence, #piercing, #crime, #biker, #first time, #family issues, #coming out, #homophobia

BOOK: Sex & Mayhem 01 Road of No Return
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He climbed into the vacant stool by the bar and nodded at Joe, who waved at him from the pump of beer a few feet away. The counter was sticky beneath Zak’s elbows, but he ignored it and glanced to the sides.

“Hey there!” Joe waved at him and came over. “What can I get you?” At one point, he had to yell over a roar of laughter at the pool table.

“Just a bottle of beer, thanks.” Zak smiled and gestured to the crowds. “What’s the occasion? Will there be live music later?”

“Nah, just the jukebox. I also DJ sometimes.” Joe raised his chin and got Zak a bottle from the fridge. “The cops were after the club again and arrested one of our guys for no reason. So they had to let him out. You see that young guy over there? Rat.” Joe pointed to a young guy sleeping in the corner with his head against the wall and an empty glass in his hand.

Zak smiled, wondering what the poor guy did to deserve a nickname like that. Rat still had a face covered in pimples. “Tough start. Why would he be arrested?” he asked, leaning over the counter. He took the first swig of the cold beer and smiled at the clear, slightly bitter taste.

“Probably had some weed on him.” Joe shrugged. “Stitch said Rat’s buying everyone a drink tonight, so your first beer is on him.”

“He’ll learn his lesson,” chuckled Zak and used the curtain of his hair to glance toward the pinball machine again. Stitch wasn’t humping the girl like an over-eager bunny anymore, but they were still talking, Stitch leaning against the wall like the alpha dog he was. Strands of hair fell on his face, making him look like a handsome rok ‘n’ roll Viking. Zak had no idea if Stitch actually swung both ways or what his deal was. It didn’t really matter anyway.

“Exactly. It’s no big deal, but it’s nice to get a chance to show the cops the finger.”

Zak grinned at him. He never had any bad experiences with the police, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Or just shut up altogether. “What do people around here do on their days off? Other than coming over here.”

“Many of the guys own the company next door and work there. You know, the house removals. And then some of them use the workshop for all sorts of carpentry.” Joe had a big wide smile as he spoke, pouring people’s drinks in the meantime. “It’s all locally owned, you know, we don’t work for anyone else.”

Zak sighed. So there was nothing to do other than hang out here and work. Maybe it was for the better. He would have a chance to recharge his batteries in peace.

“Are they selling the... wooden handiwork anywhere? Is there a store?” Maybe he could order something for his new studio.

“It’s mostly commissioned work, but you can always come round to see the stuff that hasn't been picked up yet. Like, last month, they were making these custom-made BDSM benches. There was so much fun with those. And Stitch made a set of miniature table and chairs for his daughter’s birthday.”

Zak’s face, which had relaxed into a smile at the mention of dungeon furniture, suddenly went slack. A daughter? That was the last thing he expected. He looked back at Stitch, squeezing and opening his fists. The guy looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, pretending he was putting a glass of beer on a girl’s rack. “I didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Oh, yeah. Four months after marriage if you know what I mean.”

Zak sighed. “And now it’s over. At least he has a kid out of it. How old is she?”

“Five or something like that. Cute kid, actually. It’s a shame he got divorced, he and Crystal were a great couple. It’s stupid, but I always kinda imagined, when I was younger, that they were this perfect couple. That I wanted something like they used to have.” Joe looked like a stranded puppy when his gaze traveled to Stitch.

Zak blinked, surprised by the sentiment. “Happens. Anyone special in
your
life?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Not yet, you? Came to get lucky tonight?” Joe grinned and looked over Zak’s shoulder. Before Zak even turned around to follow Joe’s gaze, he heard two female voices cutting through the noise.

“Hey there, Mr. Ink.”

The smile tensed on his face but by the moment he turned around, he knew he had to look perfectly natural. “Hey there, ladies,” he said, for a moment wondering if they might be twins. No, their facial features were different, but both had long, bright red hair, heavy makeup, and wore skimpy black dresses with some ink peeking out. They could be twin sisters of half the alternative scene.

“Are you up for fun, Mr. Ink?” One of them asked and ran her fingers down Zak’s arm.

“Let me guess, you two are housemates,” he said, grinning his way through the bizarre moment when he should have told them he wasn’t interested but somehow couldn’t make that push. His stomach twisted at the thought what the implications could be. In a place such as this, especially as a newcomer, he couldn’t just ignore what anyone thought. It brought a whole new level of discomfort.

“I’m Vanessa.” One of the girls held out her hand with a smile as the other gave a cat-like squint. “I love your ink. I heard you’re a tattoo artist? It’s your poster on the wall, isn’t it?”

“Yes I am.” He squeezed her hand, not for too long, to stay professional. “What do you want to know?”

Vanessa’s full lips spread into a smile. “I want to know where you live.” She took a swig of beer from the bottle in her hand. Her friend, obviously more shy, hid her mouth behind the bottle and gave Zak a little wink. He responded with a smile.

“If you guys want a consultation, you can see my portfolio online, and contact me so that we can arrange for a meeting. Is there any particular design you’re interested in?”

“It’s not the time for portfolios today,” he heard the well-known raspy voice from the side. It tugged on Zak’s nape, gripping the skin and sending a shiver down his spine. “I need a consultation on my new ink.”

Vanessa moaned. “Go away, Stitch!”

Zak gave his savior a wide grin. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, eager to dismiss the fake twins. He held out his hand and grabbed Stitch around the forearm, shaking his hand. He noticed that twin number two turned halfway to the bar, apparently more sensitive to body language than her friend.

“Oh yeah?” Stitch held his hand for a bit too long, but backed off. “You seem to be having fun though.”

“Those girls here are interested in getting inked,” he said as if he hadn’t noticed the flirting. “You three know each other?” he asked, keeping up Stitch’s gaze, intense in the dark room.

“Sure we do. Go on, Vanessa, stalk my new friend another time.” Stitch smiled and patted her ass. She pouted, but eventually waved at Zak with just her fingers and left along with her friend.

Zak leaned in to whisper, “Thanks.” He breathed in the already familiar scent of Stitch’s cologne, complemented with a note of liquor.

“You think I did it for you?” Stitch gave him a crooked smile and pulled on his arm to lead Zak away from the bar. “I just need my ink tended to.”

“Do you? You seemed to be tending to it very well by the pinball machine,” said Zak, slipping off the stool and following Stitch anyway.

“It was just a bit of fun.” Stitch shrugged and led him through a backdoor, behind which the music was instantly dulled down. The corridor was dim and dusty, with only a few old band posters on the walls.

Zak bit his lip, his skin burning up where Stitch’s big hand was touching him. “Is this still the bar?”

“Nope. It’s the clubhouse. We have a few guest rooms and a place to lounge around.” Stitch took his hand away, but not before he stroked Zak with his thumb. “Guys from the club can stay around here sometimes if they need to.”

Zak exhaled, looking down into Stitch's hazel eyes. “So, we’re not alone here,” he guessed, looking at the posters of bikes and naked women, which had been clearly torn out of some magazine in the 90s.

Stitch pushed on a door and all of a sudden grabbed the front of Zak’s top. With a force that had Zak stumbling forward, Stitch pulled him into the dark room. The door closed, and the same moment Zak heard a click of the lock, he was against the wall, with Stitch’s lips on his and Stitch’s firm, broad body squishing him flat. “Now we are.”

There was a somewhat stale scent to the room, but Zak held onto Stitch’s arms anyway and opened up for him, sucking on his wild, restless tongue as it fucked his mouth with an urgency unmatched by any of Zak’s previous partners. He groaned and slid his hands down Stitch’s back, massaging the tight muscle.

“All I could think of all day was how much I wanna be inside you,” Stitch rasped into Zak’s lips between one kiss and another, his breath as hot as rum-infused. Zak barely had time to think before Stitch grabbed his thighs and pulled them up. He lost ground and had to grab onto Stitch’s neck when the guy held him up against the wall, grinding his hips into Zak.

“Ohh, fuck,” whispered Zak, shuddering against Stitch as this big, butch guy simply raised him off his feet like a puppet. Stitch’s words stung right into the center of Zak’s chest, knocking air out of him and pulling invisible strings that made him open his thighs wider, relax his ass in preparation for that thick, juicy cock. In an ideal world, Zak would have Stitch tear the back of his jeans and fuck him into the floor, crushing him with his weight in a way that was completely primal. The mere thought of it made Zak’s stomach shudder in anticipation.

“What do you want? You want my dick inside, don’t you?” Stitch whispered in the darkness, his cock already hard in his jeans. “Pumping my come deep into your hot ass.” Stitch groaned and thrust with his hips. He licked the side of Zak’s face in a languid move, all the way from the jaw to the ear.

Stitch was raw, and rough as a sex-starved caveman. His declarations made Zak’s toes curl as he squeezed his thighs around those powerful hips. Zak sucked on the rum-flavored lips, already getting drunk on their taste. His head spun, light as an empty eggshell, with all the blood in Zak’s body migrating south. He’d love to be fucked bare by a hunk like that, in an ideal world without STDs. But he could still fantasize about it. “Uh-huh, I want you to push my legs up and stick that dick in me,” he whispered, suddenly biting into the tender flesh of Stitch’s lip.

“You’re my choice of poison.” Stitch held him tightly as he turned away from the wall, carrying Zak somewhere in the dark room. A tiny bit of light from a dusty window made the edges of furniture blur, but it was no surprise when the world became horizontal, and Zak’s back met a mattress. He didn’t have to see Stitch to know he was unbuckling his belt, the metallic clang went straight to Zak's cock. “Gonna kill me, but I can’t stop,” muttered Stitch.

Zak shuddered on the mattress and fumbled with his pocket to get out the two packets. He was so hot he felt like shedding everything, including his own skin, and feel Stitch even closer, accept his almost bloodthirsty passion. This was a twenty-something, possibly gay man who suddenly got a chance to have sex with a guy, no wonder he couldn’t help himself. But there was something strange in the sheer intensity of Stitch that made Zak both uncertain and hornier than a mating bull. “Kill you?” he uttered, pushing down his jeans for more freedom. “I’m not that dangerous.”

The shape of Stitch’s body mingled with the darkness, as if he were a biker demon, ready to possess Zak with those big hands that were now kneading his chest, and a dick that was probably already ready to fuck like a devil. Zak half-imagined Stitch growing horns and his dick getting nubs and ridges all over.

“You are if you keep being this hot,” Stitch whispered, and the longer they were in the room, the more Zak’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness. Still, he couldn’t keep up with Stitch’s hands. Pulling up his top, sliding to his ass, and squeezing it hard. His knee pushed Zak’s legs apart, and all they had for a soundtrack were their shallow breaths, exchanged between trembling lips, sweet enough to send Zak’s head into a spin.

Zak pushed his fingers into Stitch's long, coarse hair and pulled him closer, eager to bite into his mouth, tearing out chunks of the juicy lips and tongue. Now that he’d lost his pants and underwear, he dug his heels into Stitch’s ass and pulled him in. His ass was pulsing with need, as if there was a void within him that needed to be filled with hard warmth. He pushed the two packets into Stitch’s hand, breathless. “Want you inside...”

“Fuck yes…” Stitch's hiss was accompanied by the condom wrapper crunching when he tore it open. Just seconds of fumbling later, a generous amount of lube drizzled down Zak’s crack. “I’m gonna pound you into fucking oblivion,” Stitch rasped, pushing the cockhead against Zak’s anus and sliding it against the slippery, sensitive skin.

It trailed along Zak’s crack like a snake, ready to bite into his flesh, and he clung to the strong frame on top of him, close to wheezing his excitement. He couldn’t see much else than the contours of Stitch’s hair and shoulders, like he was lying under some brute who would take whatever he wanted whether Zak liked it or not. But he did like it. He did want it, and raised his hips to brush them over the hard flesh. “Yeah....”

Stitch pushed a few times, spreading the lube all over, but his next thrust was stronger and got the cockhead right through the sphincter. “So fucking tight I wanna cream you already.” Stitch panted over him, pushing Zak into the hard springs of the old mattress.

Zak gasped and bit the inner side of his lip, trembling with the searing pain that spread through his ass as it clamped around the invading cock in a vise-like grip. But he was too horny to complain and arched his hips off the mattress, stabbing himself further with the velvety steel between his legs. Without the aid of his eyes, his world narrowed down to the tactile sensations. The rough, old mattress below. Stitch’s body, tense as a jaguar’s attacking its prey, damp with sweat. Stitch's scent overcame Zak in violent waves, intensifying as Stitch started easing his thick cock back and forth through his clamped anus. The soft strands of his hair trailed up and down Zak’s cheek in the same rhythm, surprisingly gentle and soothing.

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