PROLOGUE (Dark River Stone Collective)
SID
Fury gripped me by the throat, got me out of my apartment, and onto my motorcycle. I didn’t know where I was heading until I pulled up outside the bar on the outskirts of Austin, Texas.
Walking into the bar, I glanced about, and the same uneasy feeling that always came from visiting a gay bar ran through me. The place was decent, with a mix of men from different backgrounds, and no one tended to hassle anyone. The décor was geared toward cowboys more than bikers, but I wasn’t fussy when I wanted to pick up a dude for the night. I wasn’t a frequent visitor because I didn’t often scratch the itch that said I was gay. It was a part of myself that I’d learned to control most of the time, but after the weekend, I needed an outlet for my feelings, and, unfortunately, this was it.
Hands shoved deep into the front pockets of my jeans, I kept my gaze on the bar and off the men that hung around the tables, some giving me subtle signs of interest. I walked over the hardwood floor, knowing most of them would run a fucking mile if they knew what I had in mind for my night’s entertainment. It wasn’t soft foreplay or trying to play nice. I needed to fuck, pure and simple. To get rid of the aggression that wouldn’t take a fucking hint and go away.
When I reached the bar, the bartender I’d fucked before sauntered over, invitation blatant. “What you drinkin’, honey?’” His sexy smirk offered me something I hated myself for wanting. What was his name? Den? Dean?
Fuck if I could remember. “Whatever you have on tap,” I answered as I leaned against the bar, not making eye contact with any of the men sitting on the stools close by.
A minute later, a beer was pushed toward me, and I dug my hand into my back pocket to pull out my wallet.
“It’s on me, honey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” He offered me another of his sexy smiles that tonight did nothing more than piss me off, right along with the stupid endearment. Why did people use those ridiculous names? Had I fucked this guy once, or was it twice? I couldn’t remember, and that was pitiful. Stylish blond hair and a little scruff on his chin, a slim build that I’d usually be interested in, did absolutely nothing for me. Tonight, I wanted to fuck, and hard. I’d break this guy with what I needed.
Pushing the money toward him, I ignored what he’d said and the look of disappointment on his face as he took the cash and gave me a nod. He moved away as I sipped at the beer and listened to the music that wasn’t to my taste. Country music was blah and left me with nothing else to think about other than why I was sitting in a gay bar. I’d let Linc down pure and simple. I was his second in command of Dark Angels, and I should have known what the rat bastards were up to. But no, I had my head up my fucking ass trying to pretend I wasn’t attracted to one of the club members. How fucked up was that?
Linc was the only one that knew I was gay, although we never talked about it. I didn’t talk about that shit with anyone. Was that why I’d dropped the ball? I wanted to kick my own ass or invite Linc to, but the man was too busy having his own personal issues with his lawyer, Mason. But Linc wasn’t a coward, unlike me. No, I fucking hid and came skulking to bars when the need wouldn’t give my head any peace.
Being the second in a club like the Dark Angels was a big deal. It came with a lot of responsibility, but I’d gotten so tangled up in evading myself that I’d dropped the ball. The slime that had been the club’s senior members had been secretly setting up the president, Linc, and it had slipped right past me. Fucking rat-shit bastards.
The rage that I’d contained as I’d fought next to Linc the day before just wouldn’t let go. I’d wanted to kill the motherfuckers, but that wasn’t what Linc had wanted, though we’d kicked ass. Right now, that was little consolation when I wanted to rip someone apart with my bare hands. Those hands shook as I lifted the pint and drank half of it straight down.
Movement at my side was the only indication someone had sat on the stool next to mine. I swallowed a groan when my nose filled with a familiar scent I’d recognize blindfolded. Why tonight? Why now?
One glance at the hands laying on the bar, tapping at the shiny counter, and my heart started to thud painfully against my ribs. The beer I’d drunk burned like battery acid as I stared into familiar eyes. Eyes I’d dreamed of more than I’d admit aloud. “What the fuck you doin’ here?” I growled, low and mean.
He licked his lips, gaze not meeting mine as a dark flush appeared over his exposed skin. The deep tan didn’t hide it, and neither did the scruff on his lower jaw. An unwanted flare of desire that I’d been doing my best not to acknowledge made its presence felt as the jeans I wore became snug.
Had I been right all along? Was the guy gay? He’s fucking sitting in a gay bar, dimwit.
“Getting a drink, same as you,” he answered in that low voice that never failed to set my body alight. He raised his hand to the barman to attract his attention as if to make his point. We both knew different, but right then, my mind could only think about the possibilities of what could happen if I acted on what I was feeling.
The barman served him, and I showed no interest in anyone but the man sitting next to me. This place had a reputation for discretion, and it was why I chose it when the need to fuck became too much to resist. It had been six months since I’d last been there. Why tonight? Had he followed me?
That thought fucked with my head when I wanted something different, something dark.
The silence stretched between us, as did the sexual tension. I could scent it.
Sea-blue eyes turned in my direction. “That was a bit of a clusterfuck.”
He didn’t need to clarify that he was talking about what had gone down yesterday. “It was.”
His gaze remained on me, which was unusual as the guy tended to avoid looking directly at me most of the time, not that I paid much attention.
Yeah, you don’t at all look at that fucking hotness. Imagining pinning him to a wall and fucking his brains out? The visual, and the snarky voice that often sounded like Linc, didn’t let me escape what I’d wanted for months. I sighed hard. “You wanna fuck?”
The only reaction was a slight curve of one eyebrow. “That would be a mistake.”
“Maybe, but right now, I’m willing to take the risk.” Or my cock was.
He picked up his beer, and his full lips pressed against the glass, giving me an image of them pressing against mine. Back the fuck up! No kissing. Fucking is what you want.
Unease crept through me, and I acknowledged he was right. I needed to look for someone else. I shifted and glanced about the large room that was busy for a Monday night. A few men showed interest if the smiles I was getting were any indication. Still, none of them ignited the same spark as the man sitting silently next to me, watching me.
“What are you looking for?”
His gaze held me captive as the mask he wore daily slipped, and for the first time since we’d met, his face revealed what he was feeling: desire. It was powerful, and if that wasn’t the yank my chain needed… “Hard and fast.” I held my breath to see if I had read him right.
He gave a slow nod. “Where?”
I glanced about the bar and, for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to fuck in a bathroom stall or out back in some dark alley. It was risky, but it seemed tonight, I’d lost my sanity. “My place.”
I got up off the barstool, saying nothing more, and left. I didn’t need to explain where that was, not when he worked in the auto shop beneath my apartment. The sound of feet thudding behind me ramped up the excitement I refused to think too hard about. Heading down the steps, I zipped up my leather jacket, even though the warmth of the air was oppressive. Once at my motorcycle, I glanced over my shoulder before I slung my leg over my hog, my cock hard and wanting.
Long and lean, the guy screamed sex, his hair fell about his gorgeous face as he slipped on his jacket. Not once did he look in my direction as he mounted his motorcycle and lifted his helmet. I followed and started the engine, enjoying the power underneath me as it throbbed and increased the need.
The night’s darkness was broken only by the brightness of the stars. The scent of dry earth and heat all I could smell as Toady took off and I chased him. The wind buffed my hot face as I rode down the winding roads letting my mind clear.
Was I really doing this?
Even as the question floated through my head, I knew the answer. I’d wanted this from the second I’d laid eyes on the other man, and I hated myself for it. A homophobic ass of a father had made sure that I’d learned to hate myself from a young age. I’d always known I was gay. I couldn’t say how, just that I had. When my old man was alive, I was sure he knew it too with the way he’d gone on and on, using me as his personal punching bag until I grew too big and could hit back. It was why I’d become a prospect in Dark Angels. I wanted to prove I was a man. A sinister laugh left my lips. My father would turn in his grave if he knew the president of Dark Angels was gay and dating a lawyer of all things.
That was something I hadn’t been expecting. This weekend had shown just how committed both men were. When Linc had zoned out after the fight, the only man I’d thought to ring was Mason, his lawyer dealing with the shit storm that Nola had created by accusing Linc of rape. It had been the right choice, even if I’d caused more tension with club members. But fuck, I’d had to do something.
The anger was back. An ugly beast that ate at me, leaving me struggling to keep control of the motorcycle as I took the next bend a little too fast and shot past the man in front of me. The speed demon inside kept me from thinking about anything else as I rode as if the devil were chasing me.
It wasn’t long before I pulled up outside the front of Stone’s auto shop; the place that I part-owned with Linc. I cut the engine, and in the quiet of the night, the sound of the other bike left me glancing about the primarily industrial area before I relaxed enough to take a breath. The place was eerily quiet, not that I’d expected anything else. I was the only one who chose to live in the large unit that housed the auto shop.
A second later, a headlight lit up the building and me before it passed and disappeared around the back of the building. I wasn’t sure if it were anger or excitement that caused my hands to shake. I got off the bike and followed him around the back of the building. He stood with his helmet hanging off his handlebar, his expression protected by the darkness of the night.
Silently I took the last few steps that separated us and took hold of him. I wasn’t gentle as I tugged him toward me, and before I could let common sense stop me, I claimed the lips I’d dreamed about. They were softer than I’d imagined as they parted, and he groaned low and deep as I thrust my tongue deep in his mouth. The taste of the beer was there, but underlying was something else, something sweeter. My hold tightened as the taste became instantly addictive, and the desire I’d been keeping in check for months rose to obliterate any control I had left.
My chest heaved as I staggered toward the building. His body thudded hard against the brick, but he didn’t complain as I continued to devour his sweet lips. I ground my pelvis against his, and we both moaned as hardness met hardness. His muscles rippled under my hands as I dragged at his leather jacket, desperate to touch him.
The need for more was the only reason I released his lips. “Inside, now,” I rasped breathlessly.
He didn’t argue as I unlocked the door and turned on the light. It was then that I got a good look at him. His mouth was swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded and begging for more. He was gorgeous, and I let myself, for the briefest of moments, consider that I could have more than this one night.
He moved silently past me and walked up the stairs. His firm ass flexed as his low-slung jeans cupped the hard flesh. My mouth watered for a taste. I kicked the door shut behind us and followed him.
In the apartment, I didn’t bother to look around at the mess. I was single, and the girl I had clean for me wasn’t scheduled till the next day. The guy didn’t look anywhere but at me as he started to strip. Off came his jacket and T-shirt, followed quickly by his jeans and boots.
Fuck, he’d gone commando. My cock jerked and leaked, adding to the growing wet patch in my underwear, but I was mesmerized by the naked man in front of me. I’d imagined what he’d look like naked. This was so much fucking more. He wasn’t overly big, just long, lean, and fucking gorgeous. The V that led down to his slim hips was as perfect as the eight-pack he sported, each muscle the perfect space to let cum pool in.
The cock standing proud from a trimmed patch of dark hair was long and thick. Beads of precum gathered at the tip the longer I stared at him. “You gonna stare or we gonna fuck?”
The rasped question was more of a demand, and it stoked my desire higher as I removed my clothes, keeping eye contact. The connection between us was nothing like I’d experienced before. I wasn’t sure if that was because it was usually quick with limited contact.
He remained standing in the middle of my apartment, not moving as I stalked toward him, his gaze shifting to my arousal. His lips parted slightly, and he got a glazed look in his eyes that didn’t hurt my ego.
“Hard and fast.”
His response was a nod, and then it was game on. I dove for his mouth, unable to resist the temptation another moment. Not one for kissing; I could easily see myself wanting to do this again and again. No. Fuck. Fucking. That’s all.
It grated as the voice of reason worked to kill what was happening inside me. I shut it out and, for the first time in my life, let go of all the barriers. I wasn’t sure if he sensed the change as he went pliant in my arms. I wrapped my arms around him and lifted him, getting a moan as a reward. “Hold on.”
Lean legs wrapped around my waist as I continued to kiss his lush mouth, walking through my apartment and praying I wouldn’t trip the fuck over on my way to the bedroom. Or lose something much more precious: my heart.
