least for now.
And for now had to be enough.
Stripping off his boots, Kicks peeled out of his clothes and piled them on a chair by the door. The guest rooms at the clubhouse were musty and smelled faintly of weed and piss, but he’d stayed in worse places. The sheets were too starched, but they looked clean, and they were cool on his naked back as he spread his legs and ran his hands along the insides of his thighs.
He thought about Jude being there with him. He thought about Jude’s mouth grazing behind his knee, teeth scraping over his hot skin. He thought about the way he’d use his hands to part Kicks’ legs so wide it hurt and how he’d suck his balls into his mouth and roll them on his tongue. He thought about rolling onto his stomach and humping his cock against the bed as Jude thrust his tongue into his hole.
He thought about how the man would pin him with strong hands and soft commands, making him wait for it.
Making him beg for it.
“Please,” he found himself whispering into the empty room. He thought about spitting on his fingers and pushing them inside himself, but he wanted to wait. Instead, he curled a hand around his dick and began to stroke too fast, too hard as he lost himself to the phantom sensation of being split wide open on Jude’s cock.
He wanted that heat, that stretch. He wanted to feel Jude spilling inside him, feel the come dripping down his thighs after.
He wanted Jude to straddle his chest and jerk off and come over his parted lips.
He wanted all of it. Everything.
With a soft cry, his orgasm rushed through his limbs, not as powerful as it was when Jude was with him, but enough to take the edge off. His come landed sticky on his lower stomach, and he dragged his fingers through it, shoving them into his mouth and letting himself imagine how Jude would taste there.
And would he like what Kicks just did, if he’d been there to witness it?
Climbing on wobbly legs, he searched the room and found an old roll of paper towels gathering dust in the corner. He discarded the first few, then used the rest to wipe himself up. As he turned, he caught sight of himself in the foggy college dorm mirror that was hanging on the back of the door. There were lip-shaped prints in red kissed into the corner from someone’s old lady who had stayed there, and he thought about what life would feel like if Jude agreed to accompany him to places like this.
It felt wrong—almost dirty. It felt like allowing this was going to taint the soul of a man who really was—for all his self-doubt—a righteous and good person.
And yet, he was the sort of man who wouldn’t stop himself, even if he knew it was for Jude’s own good. That thought carried him as he dressed, then slipped out of the room to check on Rory who was now snoring quietly. Kicks shut the door, then made his way out into the lobby of the clubhouse and was surprised it was still shut down. It functioned as a bar in the front, much the same way Smokey’s would as soon as they got it open, and Kicks half-expected it to be full of bikers and passersby who wanted to drink and feel a little dangerous.
Instead, he found a lone guy sitting at the bar without a cut, though the road-weary look on his face said that he was definitely patched, if not an officer. He was a middle-aged white guy with not a lot of personality to him, though his hair was startingly ginger, including the short beard he wore. He lifted a brow at Kicks as he walked closer, then stood up on a rung of the stool and leaned over the bar to grab another beer.
“Look like you need this,” he muttered.
Kicks chuckled and took it, grabbing a stool that left a couple between them for space. “Thanks, man. I’m Kicks.”
The guy slapped a handshake against his palm, then grabbed his beer and took a long drink before he offered his own name. “Tek. You came with the circus?”
Kicks bristled, but he expected the names to be a lot worse. “If you wanna call it that.”
“I don’t know what the fuck to call you,” Tek answered, and Kicks could appreciate his honesty, and his discerning eye. “Jax seems pretty