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“Why?” Rax asks, more in wonder than with the usual bite he has.
“Because I like you.”
“Your funeral,” he says with a shrug. “Don’t start being afraid of me when I tell you.” I nod, still running my fingers through his hair as I was before. “We’ll start with the really ugly. I killed for the first time at sixteen.”
My hand stutters in his hair, not expecting that to be the first thing he tells me about his life. “Okay,” I say in as calm a voice as I can manage.
Rax must know I’m a little shocked because he smirks. It falls away quickly. “It was some racist fuck that stayed at the edge of town. He kept calling Zeke slurs and didn’t think a lily-white guy like me would have a problem with it. Even winked at me when he said it once like I would agree. Add to that, we’re teenagers and he didn’t think we would do shit.” Rax scoffed and my heart grows for him. “The guy never said shit to Jermaine because of the club and I’m guessing when the Devil’s Mayhem didn’t come down there and beat his ass after his first slip up, he probably figured Zeke didn’t tell his dad and he was safe to keep doing it. Anyway, one day, Zeke and his dad went out on a charity ride with the club. Everyone knew they were out of town. Naturally, people assumed I went with them because I was always with them. When I knew Zeke and Jermaine weren’t just out of town, but out of the state, I snuck into the man’s window and slit his throat. He had plenty of enemies, so the cops didn’t know where to look. But since Zeke and Jermaine were out of the state, they weren’t questioned. I’ve never told anyone that before.” He turns around suddenly and looks me in the eye. “Are you afraid of me now?”
Shaking my head, I frame his face. “No. You killed for your best friend. Calling someone a racial slur is the ultimate disrespect and you took care of that.”
Rax barks a laugh. “Not everyone I killed was in retaliation.” He plops back into my lap. “I’m not a good guy, Finn. Don’t think I’m someone that kills to rid the word of evil. I am the world’s evil.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I know he’s not a good guy. I know he’s not the man you take home to mom. Me being handcuffed to my bed here for almost a week tells me that. But dammit, I can’t help how my heart soars when he smiles at me. Or how hot my body gets when he touches me.
His danger be damned, I really do like him.
Stockholm Syndrome anybody?
Since Rax just bared his soul, I figure I can give him something too. “My mom?” My voice cracks, so I clear my throat and try again. “My mom doesn’t really care about me. She checked out long ago when I came out.” I grit my teeth, trying to hold in my anger and hurt. “We’re from a small town, so she was ashamed to have a gay son. And imagine it being your only child.” With a smile, I think about my father. “My dad didn’t care. He still loved me and he accepted me. Mom has that backwards opinion deep in her. Do you remember how she said I was a mechanic on the news?” I feel his nod more than I see it, since unshed tears are brimming my eyes. “That’s because she wants people to think I’m some manly tough guy. She wants people to think I don’t walk around with makeup and crop tops and tight jeans, like there’s only one way to be a man.” I scoff, upset that I’m letting her shit get to me. I haven’t in years. “When my dad died, she checked out all the way. I barely see her and when I do, she asks if I’ve turned my life around. Like being gay is such a bad thing. Anyway, that’s why I ran. I haven’t seen my mother cry since my dad died and especially not for me. I think she’s doing it for attention and that makes it worse than her not caring about me. She’s using me for sympathy.”
Rax grunts. “Want me to kill her?” I stop dragging my fingers through his hair and look down at him with wide eyes. His eyes are dancing when he meets my gaze. “I’m kidding, sweet pea.”
A laugh burst from my chest. “God, don’t scare me like that. I don’t like the woman, but I don’t want her dead.”
“I know. You’re sweet like that. I would never ask you something like that seriously.”
Laughing again, I move his head onto a pillow and straddle his lap. His hands go to my thighs, squeezing gently. “You were fucking with me?”
He shrugs almost shyly. “You seemed sad. I don’t like you being sad.”
“My big bad biker murderer doesn’t like his sweet pea to be sad.” Before he can give me a smart-ass answer, I bend down to kiss him.
This kiss is different. It’s full of the heat we usually exchange, but there’s something else behind it. It’s the gratitude I feel for him for trying to make me feel better about an old slight from the person that’s supposed to love me unconditionally. It’s how he opened up to me about something he’s never told anyone else. It’s because this is the definition of trust.
Dragging my mouth from his, I kiss down his neck, licking along that sexy-ass tattoo that makes him look as dangerous as he is. I lovingly lick and nip along his neck, listening to his soft exhalations and soaking up how tightly he grips my thighs.
Sliding down his body, I shove his shirt up so I can get to his chest and abs, bathing those tattoos with my tongue. Taking a chance, I tweak one of his nipples and his hiss is like music to my ears. I grin against this skin, steadily making my way down, wanting to taste every inch of him.
Not wasting time on teasing any longer, I drag his shorts down, coming face to face with his large uncut cock that has my mouth watering.
Stroking from base to tip, I look up at Rax. He’s leaning up on his elbows, looking at me with heated eyes. “You gonna suck it or you plan to jerk my dick all day?”
Grinning, I don’t answer in words, I just lick along his shaft, his gasp and groan making my own cock twitch in my pants. I plant open mouthed kisses over his shaft, feeling it twitch in my hands. “Fuck, sweet pea. Let me feel your hot mouth. Swallow my cock.”
I love following directions. Pulling the foreskin back to expose the almost angry red of his cockhead, I smile and lick the drop of precum that leaks before I swallow him down. “Oh, sweet fuck,” he grunts, collapsing back on the pillow.
If my mouth wasn’t full of his thick shaft, I would smile. Bringing this man to his knees with my mouth is a heady feeling. Bobbing my head up and down, I commit his flavor to memory, loving the heavy feel of him on my tongue. I swallow, and he thrusts up as my throat closes around the head of his cock.
Rax sits up, letting out a stream of curses as his fingers thread through my hair. I peek up at him, seeing his eyes are half lidded and his mouth is hanging open as he pants.
Feeling emboldened, I take him all the way in, relaxing my throat so I can take him in without gagging too much. Still, saliva pools and my eyes tear anyway. I gag and pull off his dick, breathing heavily while I jerk him off.
“Fuck, sweet pea. Your mouth is dangerous.”
Cheekily, I say, “I guess that means you like dangerous guys too.” Rax pulls me up, kissing me long and deep. After tasting his lips for a moment, I squirm away, going back to the task at hand.
Jerking him slowly a few times, I meet his eyes. “Fuck my mouth like you hate me.”
