Page 8 of Bent, Not Broken

He glanced down at himself and then back at me. “I usually say that.”

I snickered, and he glared some more.

“Why am I out here if you—if you’re not gay, and I’m so gross?”

He gritted his teeth in an even line in imitation of a smile. “I wanted to see if you were as full of yourself as I thought you were. If you really thought you could do anything and get away with it. Face zero consequences.”

My mood wobbled and dove, and I felt… not embarrassed, exactly, but I wished I weren’t exposed to his judging eyes anymore. I strained and still couldn’t move my hands, and that sent another thrilling pulse of heat through my dick, almost like I’d stroked it. I moaned and then laughed.

“You’re the most inept cop I’ve ever met. You had Riggs. You fucking had him, but you destroyed yourself. You let that asshole partner of yours talk you out of calling River, right? You stood by and let that guy fucking stomp on your balls until he talked you into doing the wrong thing. And then you have the nerve to get mad at me for winning? I didn’t do the work there, you did. You fuck—”

Slater had no hands left, so I concluded, in a distant, floaty part of my mind, that was why he mashed his lips to mine. He wasn’t kissing, he was raiding. He forced his way into my mouth with his tongue, and I had to open. I moaned and let my jaw go slack to give him all the power. There was a surprised sound from him that was so masculine, a deep animal rumble, that I cried out as a warmth rushed my stomach and I nearly came.

Who kisses this way?

Chapter 3

Evan

This wasn’t part of the plan. Hell, I had no plan. I saw him at the bar and couldn’t keep myself from approaching him. Leading him into the back of my truck and watching him jerk off hadn’t been anywhere near what I’d imagined would happen. When the flirting started, I thought I’d take him somewhere, get him hard and ready, and then leave him there after I’d mocked his desperate attempt at getting laid. Kissing him wasn’t in my to-do list either, until it happened just to shut his smartass mouth up.

I’d never kissed a guy before, and it wasn’t something I kept in my spank bank, but here I was, doing the unexpected. His lips were rougher than a woman’s and my chin was spiked by the small hairs growing on his. He tasted like martinis and something else I couldn’t put my finger on, and while I fucked his mouth with my tongue, he gave it back as good as he got it. Most women were more delicate, gentle, and they always whined a bit more when I started to get rough. Not Polunin.

Because he’s not a woman.

The thought should have been sobering, made me back off, but if anything, it encouraged me to take it further. I let go of his wrist and grabbed a chunk of his hair, tugging, making him open his mouth in a moan. I nipped down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and that should have made him scamper like the scared little mouse he was, but to my surprise, he grasped the front of my T-shirt and dragged me closer. Our chests smashed together, and I was half lying on top of him, his back pressed against the corner where the door met the seat. He wrapped a leg around my thigh, rubbing his exposed dick against my hip.

I broke the kiss and stared down at his thick piece of meat. He might be short, but his cock wasn’t. I’d never stared at other men like this before, and I didn’t have any outright attraction to his junk. He was cut with a big mushroom head, thick and veiny, and looked similar to mine, except he was flushed a darker red and slightly smaller than me.

“Like what you see, Slater?” Polunin grinned, but the pupils of his eyes were blown, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he might have taken something. The cop side of me wanted to drag him down to the station and make him take a drug test, maybe throw him behind bars for twenty-four hours, but the unexpected horniness that made my cock fatten stopped me from doing it. I’d never wanted to fuck a dude before. I’d done anal with a chick… there wasn’t much difference.

Right?

“I don’t like cock.” I shrugged, but I didn’t think he could see it in the dark cab of my truck. The only reason I could see him was because of the streetlights that reflected through the window next to his head.

Polunin shook his head and grinned. “I showed you mine, how about you show me yours? I did win today, after all, it’s what I deserve.”

The reminder of his win made my blood hot with anger, and my hand wrapped around his neck as though it had a mind of its own. My thumb and forefinger squeezed at his jugular and fear flashed in his eyes, but so did desire. His mouth parted and he moaned. I felt the vibration under my fingers, and I squeezed harder until he leaned his head back, exposing his neck to me, practically begging for it. My cock throbbed, and I cupped myself through my jeans with my other hand.

Fuck, that’s hot.

He humped his hips up against me, and even as his face flushed from lack of air, with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he grabbed his hard dick and slapped it against my clothed crotch. This should have been the point where I turned back, where I threw him out of the truck and told him to fuck off before I charged him for public intoxication. Instead I unzipped the fly of my jeans and pulled my cock out of my underwear.

Spitting in my hand, I curled my fingers around my thickness, stroking down my length with slow, precise movements. His gaze flicked to where my hand was and he smiled, wrapping his own hand around the wrist belonging to the fingers digging into his neck. His skin was so warm.

“You like that, you fucking whore?” I hissed.

He gasped and then grinned. “Fuck yeah.” The words came out strained, low and crackly, and he squeezed the base of his cock. “Gonna come so hard.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, removing my hold on his neck and slapping him across the cheek. The sound echoed through the cab, and he turned wide eyes on me. A jerk went through his body and his spine arched back. I had no warning before his cock shuddered in his hand and strings of cum shot from his slit, covering my own exposed dick and the back of my hand. I should have shoved him out the door then, but I used his spunk to tug myself off in record time.

I bit down on my bottom lip hard enough for me to taste the tang of blood as jets of cum shot from me, splattering across his white dress shirt, some landing on his neck near the collar. A weird sense of pleasure went through me as my body spasmed with my orgasm, and I touched the spunk on his skin, rubbing it until there was nothing but a sticky patch.

His eyelashes fluttered closed and he licked his lips, pink tongue darting out to trace the width of his bruised lip where he’d been chewing insistently. “Want you to fuck me.”

Warning bells went off in my head and I scoffed, shoving myself back into my underwear and jeans and zipping up. “Not a fucking chance.”

He grinned in that infuriating way that made me want to deck him. “Why not? You came to Black Out to get laid, right?”