ones. He realized he wanted to be filled. He wanted to be stretched around Jude’s cock so wide, he could still feel it days later.
But he wasn’t stupid enough to ask for that.
“Give me five,” he said, and Jude nodded. He was allowing him the escape, allowing him to come down from that euphoria and get his shit together before they had to make the drive home. He headed down the hall to the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a loud click. The bulb was burnt out, but a little fogged window behind the toilet gave enough light that he could see rust rings inside the bowl and a sink with a tap that looked like it would only work if he was lucky.
There were no towels, but there was a roll of dusty paper towels in the linen closet, and he threw it into the sink before leaning over to take a piss. His dick felt strangely unsatisfied, and his balls were a little sticky from Jude’s mouth. He hadn’t been ready to stop. He’d been ready to give everything, and he wondered if that was what Gunner went through when Logan started to climb under his skin.
Had it been like that? An innocent hook-up—a way to pass the time in a shitty situation they had no way out of before he was suddenly and inexplicably head over heels?
If that was the case, they were all at risk. Kicks didn’t have anything against love or relationships, but he refused to give in to something that would make him weak and pathetic.
And he didn’t trust his heart to lead.
He’d made one bad decision that changed his life forever. And he wasn’t looking for round two.
7
Jude knew sex would complicate things, but they’d been dancing around the tension all bloody day, and he knew it would be better to just get a quick orgasm out of their system. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before, and it wasn’t like he had any sort of moral high ground to stand on considering the situation he was in.
What he hadn’t expected was the profound feeling of being punched in the sternum when he looked up and found Emilio staring at him. His eyes were deep set—one slightly off-center—and he felt absolutely seen by the man. His lips were parted on a sharp gasp as he was tipping over the edge, and Jude couldn’t help himself but turn him over and rut against his ass until he painted his backside with come.
He didn’t say anything as Emilio escaped into the bathroom and locked the door—and he knew it was likely because of his callous words, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was bad enough he was in that situation. It was bad enough he hadn’t even tried to resist his libido. The last thing he needed were bloody feelings.
He could tell Emilio had been thrown by the whole thing, though. He’d spent half the day avoiding Jude, and it had only taken a handful of minutes before they’d crashed through any barriers they’d attempted to build. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant. He’d pegged Emilio as the sort of carefree man who—much like Jude—took pleasure when he felt like it and avoided anything deeper.
But when the man had looked at him with both wonder and need, Jude realized he was entirely wrong. And he had no idea what the hell to do with that.
Jude could still taste the man on the back of his tongue, and he wanted more. It was absurd—it was ridiculous. He was only going to make things worse if he entertained another round with the biker.
So, he didn’t wait for him. He cleaned up the mess they’d made, set aside more pie for Emilio, then stole the last of the beer from the fridge and took the bottles outside. It took him a couple tries to get the cap off, but eventually he did, and he let the alcohol burn on the way down when he took a long swallow. It didn’t take the edge off—hell, it almost made it worse.
If his inhibitions were any lower, Jude really would be willing to accept a bit of spit-lube and a sore arse if it meant he could get fucked against one of the cabin’s shitty little walls. Especially now that he knew how well Emilio responded to commands—how much he wanted it.
He rubbed a hand down his face and let out a soft