Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Arden played along and pressed his face into the crook of Mike’s neck. But he wouldn’t lick the skin. He would not.
“Do you always take things so far?”
“You think this is taking things far?” Mike whispered before approaching the entrance to the main building. “Coming through. Jeff, open the door for my sweet boy,” he called out, and passed inside the bar without thanking his younger brother.
The walls had recently been painted blood red, and the black furniture completed the look of a cheap strip joint. A girl in skimpy clothes danced by one of the poles, but it was the middle of the week, so there weren’t that many people to watch her.
The interior smelled of beer and cigarettes, but the music here was louder, making uncomfortable questions harder to discern. An older biker playing pool with a woman in a leather mini skirt stared at them with a scowl, but Mike’s smile only grew wider.
“Hands to yourself, Jag! I see you ogling my piece of sweet ass. Go find your own dick to suck,” Mike yelled, and Arden couldn’t help bursting with laughter.
And maybe he did lick Mike’s neck, but just a little.
“Go fuck yourself, Mike!” Jag called after him, but didn’t try to follow them and just pulled his chick closer, as if he needed to cleanse his palate after witnessing gay stuff. He had it tough, considering there already were two gay couples around.
“Fuck the holes in the pool table, Jag,” Mike said and entered the staircase, leaving behind all the noise.
“Am I not getting too heavy?” Arden asked as Mike climbed up the creaking stairs barely breaking a sweat. He knew what the answer would be, yet still craved to hear it.
Mike smiled at him, so youthful it was hard to believe he was the second-oldest Heller sibling. Sand-colored hair hung around his face in shiny strands, the perfect frame for someone with so much roguish charm.
“Baby boy, this is nothing. You weigh less than a bird,” he said, though there was a bit of tension to his voice now.
It was nice to know that despite all this being a stunt, Mike wanted to impress Arden. Maybe if Arden teased his ego enough, Mike would actually go for something more—
No.
No, Arden.
You are done with bad boys covered in tattoos.
“It’s ‘cause I live on milkshakes.” He let the innuendo spark between them, a low-hanging fruit for Mike to pick.
The sky-blue eyes darkened, and Mike sped up, breathing more laboriously now that they were nearing the first floor. “Really? I bet you like reusable straws. What’s your favorite kind? Salty?”
The hallway upstairs was nothing special. It had a faded carpet and stains on walls decorated with motorcycle posters no one had bothered to frame, and the air smelled of air freshener ineffectively masking the smell of someone’s piss. So it was a bit of a dump, but Arden would be safe here.
Did Mike forget that he didn’t have to act anymore, or did he not care?
“Haven’t had a salty one in a while.” There. He could pretend he forgot what this was about as well. He’d never kissed a man with a full beard, because Luke was adamant facial hair was full of germs, but Mike’s smelled so good after the barber treated it with oil. His cologne was in the mix too, even if the choking aroma of cigarette smoke snaked its way back as well, making Arden’s smile fall a bit.
Mike made a sudden turn, and Arden yelped when his body got sandwiched between Mike’s chest and the wall, and the blond hair swept across his cheek. ”Maybe I could treat you?”
Arden snorted. “You know no one’s looking, right? You can stop.” Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Mike’s. This was a disaster in the making, and it would end in tears. His tears.
Mike hummed but wouldn’t blink, as if he were hypnotized by Arden’s own gaze, so close it felt like their bodies were about to merge. “Yeah. So?”
“So you can put me down now.” Why was Arden whispering? His chest was constricting all too fast. He absolutely needed to shift his attention to ‘nice’ men, or he’d be doomed to repeat the same mistakes he’d made with Luke.
Mike’s laughter was quiet, soft, yet rough as if there were wood chips in his throat. “What if I don’t want to let go of you?”
Then we might as well fuck against this wall and get that over with.
“Then maybe you’re gay after all,” Arden teased, hoping it would wake up this straight guy to the reality of what he was doing.
Mike exhaled, his eyelashes fluttered, but just as Arden thought he’d won, the strong, muscular biker shifted, dropping one of Arden’s legs, only to press him to the wall this time and pushing his hips between Arden’s thighs.