Loveless: A Male-Male Forbidden Romance Read online

  “Undo my pants, kid.”

  He narrows his eyes for only a moment before he’s brushing his chest against mine. Instead of reaching for my pants as I’ve told him, he crouches and bites the flesh of my hips. I hiss, grabbing his hair as he continues his exploration. Soft. It’s softer than I pictured, so fucking delicate in its purity. After strumming my fingers through it, my fist tightens at the back, forcing his throat to be exposed.

  Purple.

  Blue.

  Red, red, red.

  A growl emanates from me, seeing my marks on him, remembering the taste of his salty raised skin.

  “Can’t handle a little tease, bartender?”

  His taunt is all it takes for me to dominate again.

  He’ll know exactly what I can handle, and he’ll never question it again.

  Chapter Four

  TEXAS

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Who is speaking for me? ‘Cause it’s not me.

  My heart nearly explodes out of my chest as the bartender’s deep amber eyes penetrate me as surely as his massive erection is about to.

  I’ve never done this. No matter how many men I’ve watched get plowed or do the plowing, it’s nothing in comparison, this I’m sure of. There’s no connection, nothing but cameras, lube, and the knowledge that someone is going to be jerking off to it.

  And his cock? It’s huge. Porn star envy huge.

  My entire body throbs with unabated yearning. All I’ve ever wanted was to find someone who’s into dicks as much as I am and show me I’m worth every second of that returned craving.

  He stares at me as if I’m his and only ever his. It’s shaking me inside, rattling the battered cage holding my beating vessel inside. I’m not used to this kind of desire, especially reflected back to me from a man who could put David Gandy to shame. Maybe it should scare me that he’s older, more meticulous, and has his life together, but it doesn’t.

  You don’t get to choose who finds you.

  Only how you allow them to keep you.

  He forces me to my feet. My teasing must’ve set him off, and it’s the most exciting thought, knowing I attain that power over a man as strong and as beautiful as this one.

  His fingers find my jaw, tilting it to the side, studying, appreciating, and landing on the hickeys I’m sure he left. It was so hot, feeling his tongue lash at me as if I’ve misbehaved and he had the utmost urgency to teach me a lesson. And his teeth...

  I’ve lived in a fantasy world since I was fifteen, a world that never anticipated this bartender and his skilled mouth and hands. It couldn’t possibly prepare me for every sensation zipping through me right now.

  “Turn around,” he demands. His voice is so low and gravelly, deep and unrestrained. It’s my new favorite sound.

  “I’m guessing you can’t handle—” I begin to taunt before he forces me to turn around, my cheek against the metal surface of the door, and he smacks my ass hard. A hiss escapes, unburdening me with its loss.

  “That mouth of yours,” he rasps before reaching around to undo my pants, “is going to get you in a world of trouble, but don’t worry. I’m an excellent teacher.”

  As they drop, I hear the sharp intake of his breath. Did I mention I didn’t put on boxers after showering? His hands roam my ass worshipfully, and everything in me wishes to see the strained expression more than likely pinching his face as he roves over me.

  “What? Nothing to say?” It’s meant to come out mockingly but comes more as a plea.

  He squeezes my right ass cheek, almost as if he can’t resist, like he’s memorizing every inch.

  “Fuck,” he groans painfully, his tenor raw, fileted open like my heart right now.

  I crane my neck at him, hoping he doesn’t notice my innate need to watch him, at this first touch, my only experience with a man. He hovers over me surely, tracing himself above my skin without touch, inking himself respectfully against my bare flesh.

  My dick feels like it’ll bust through the door at this rate while waiting for him to fucking touch me. I hear a rustling from him but can’t see anything.

  When the hot and hard flesh of him brushes the crack of my ass, I breathe in so deeply, forgetting why I’m here in the first place. Not this room, but the bar. I’d meant to escape, and I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s all erased when he rubs the rigid length of himself up and down, making me feel how he’s about to take everything from me.

  It’s hot. Sweltering. I’m melting into a pool of Texas Silver by this man.

  He grips my hips with purpose, dragging his mouth to my gauged ears. “So fucking hot,” he whispers, his breath teasing my sensitive flesh. His fingers tweak my nipples, and the feel of him lowering to the ground has a chill of both anticipation and fear slicing through me.

  “W-What are you—”

  “Shh,” he silences me, dragging a finger down the swell of my cheeks and between their crease. It’s purposeful, deliberate. He’s testing both our limits.

  As soon as his finger slides between, teasing my hole with the patience of a practiced man, I fist my palms. This is the first exploration of my body by anyone other than me. I can finger myself over and over, but nothing feels as intimate as this man below me.

  He’s wrecking me.

  The touch of his lips on my right cheek has me whimpering. I’m losing it while my dick leaks against his cold door, proving the influence he has over me. If he wouldn’t yell at me, I’d rut against it and force my release. But bad boys get punished, and bartender here wouldn’t second guess a punishment.

  The sensation of his breath hovering over my spine has me arching into him. He spreads my cheeks, and there’s a stroke that ignites an explosive ardor inside every nerve ending.

  “Holy shit,” I rumble as his tongue probes the tight ring. He licks up and down and fondles my balls as he continues his ministrations. “Goddammit.”

  I’m a mess. My tip leaks as he fucks me with his mouth. After I’m practically falling into a heap in response to the sensations tingling my shaft, he stops. It’s silent. All that’s present is the music humming from the bar and our staggered breathing.

  “You’re fucking perfection, little prince.”

  Little prince? I argue in my head, not wanting to ruin the moment he’s sharing with me. I’m far from royalty, and I’m not revered in any case, either.

  There’s a bit of shuffling before his fingers are back at my entrance, wet, cold, and probing. It’s soft at first, like a featherlight caress, a whisper only shared between two lovers in the dawn of night. It’s molten. Invading chills build from my toes and rise to my nipples, making them feel even harder than their normal pierced pebbles.

  Then, he hits that spot, the one they show in porn, the pleasurable one, and I fucking yell.

  He chuckles and bites my shoulder harshly. “That’s it. Scream for me, little prince. Let it all out while I make you fall to your knees for your king.”

  I groan in approval as he adds a second finger and then another. The full feeling offers sweat and peace. Perspiration lines my forehead, trails my spine, and tingles every inch of me. It’s perfect, so fucking good.

  “Tell me you want my cock, and I’ll feed it to you,” he grits into my ear, commanding, brushing his muscular chest against my dampened back. He grinds into me, and I break.

  “Fuck me,” I demand, needing to feel him filling me up.

  “That doesn’t sound like you’re desperate,” he taunts, leaving scorching kisses across my shoulder blades. His teeth dig in, dragging, stealing heavy pants from me. I want to push back against his swollen length, to force him into me.

  “Stick that monster in me, and show you’re better than I’ve ever had,” I mock.

  He removes his fingers to fill my ass. It’s rough and a one-shot, splitting me in two while bringing me to a sort of completion I’ve never experienced. He doesn’t need to know I’m a virgin and haven’t done this before.

  Ferocity is worth t
he lie.

  Pleasure is worth the pain.

  Escape is worth the loneliness.

  “What’s that? Need me to remind you that my cock is the only cock you’ll ever have? Is that what you want?” he barks as his hips smack me rhythmically.

  The pain has already gone away along with my trepidation, and I’m practically a mess of moans and pure lust as he pistons into me. It’s everything I never knew was missing in life.

  “Yes,” I practically whimper, putting the majority of my weight into the door.

  He reaches around me and fists my length, his hand smacking the door with every sloppy draw.

  The warmth of his hand has me thrusting in sync of both his fist and cock. I leak all over his palms and fingers, and he groans his approval into my neck. He towers over me, sucking on my throat and shoulders, all while keeping his pace rigid and wild.

  “That’s right, little prince. Take my cock.”

  His voice has my orgasm swimming through my body and out of my dick so hard that I’m seeing stars. Sweat seeps out of my skin as my release beckons.

  “Yes, just like that.”

  We thrust together a few more times. His body slows and jerks with each one.

  “Fuck. So good and tight,” he hisses, sending shivers through me. “Come with me, little prince.”

  He barely gets the words out as he comes inside me, and mine has already painted the door. We’re panting, heaving against each other in a perspiring mess, and all that I can think about is that I’ve never felt this harmonized in my life.

  His lips meet the space between my shoulder blades, leaving the softest kiss I’ve ever felt. I lean against him, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as I can.

  He brings his arms across my chest, holding me like I’m his lover, like this is any other night and we’re fucking because we love each other, need each other, and can’t imagine a better way to lose time.

  It hurts. It feels good. It’s so confusing.

  “Tell me, little prince. What’s your name?”

  I still beneath him. If I tell him, I’ll be screwed. Hell, I’m not sure if I’m ready to meet Prim’s dad tomorrow and ask for a job. If I have to work with this guy, it’ll make everything a mess. He’s too hot for me to resist, and I’m too hidden to come out.

  “I’m thirsty,” I whisper, evading his question.

  As I turn to him, he grips my face as if he knows this ends here. His lips connect with mine, and we only part so he can get dressed and grab us drinks.

  I stare at his flushed face, really taking him in now. He’s got at least four inches on me with dark, nearly-black hair that’s messy in a sensual way. My bartender towers me in both height and muscle, like the man in the porn from this morning.

  His shoulders are wide and strong. There’s a smattering of hair across his chest, and it’s unbelievably sexy. My eyes roam his hips, and I bite my lip ring when I see the deep lines that lead to his already stiffening cock.

  And, boy, is it a fucking cock. Huge, veiny, and ready to go again.

  My chest feels warm at the sight of him and the realization that he took my virginity, gave me a semblance of peace, and cherished my body like it was his honor.

  In this moment, I feel free.

  I kiss him again, unable to resist a last taste for the road before he heads out. After the door clicks, I rush to get ready, not wanting to be here when he gets back and forces me to give him my name. Without my boxers, I can feel his seed ease out of me, proving he’s planted in me, ingrained deep.

  It’s now or never, I think.

  Then I do what I do best.

  I run.

  Chapter Five

  DEVIN

  “Another Jaeger good?” I ask as soon as I re-enter the stock room, holding what’s left of the liter we used for our first shots. When I lift my gaze and meet nothing but booze crates and everything else that’s usually in here, my stomach caves a little at the sight of the barren room.

  As dank and somber as it is normally, it feels even more so now. It’s as if he was never here. Nothing is out of place. The only thing that gives anything away is the used lube packet on the floor.

  “Guess not,” I angrily mutter.

  My heart sinks for some unknown reason. It was a simple fuck, right? A quick rump without strings attached. I’ve done this several times out of town with different men each time.

  We agreed.

  The difference here is that I fucked him bare. Bare. I’m so fucking dumb. Tension had been high, and my dick made all the decisions, not that he mentioned it either. Regardless, we weren’t cautious at all.

  I’m never careless.

  Not once have I gone without a condom. It’s always the first thing on my mind. If not for the lube in my wallet, we wouldn’t have even fucked.

  Fuck. My soul aches as if this pivotal moment was meant to be more than one night. It throbs almost as much as my shaft did when he teased me. With other men, teasing never turned me on. When they baited me, it made me soft. But my sad little prince? He tore me up.

  He’s still tearing me up.

  Why do I care? He’s probably an out-of-towner who needed a fix, a bedmate for the night, something fun to tell his friends when he goes home. They don’t come often. There isn’t much up in Valley West, but it happens.

  He didn’t even tell me his name.

  My little prince is enigmatic, nothing I’ve experienced before. Hard and soft, a perfect blend of the two, creating a harmony I didn’t realize I need until now.

  I sit on the wooden pallets in the farthest part of the room and just relive our moments. The shared breaths. Moans. My mouth on him. His body painted with my hands, tongue, and teeth.

  Not once in all the times I’ve been with a man did I feel the connection my blue-haired sad boy and I shared. He had to have felt it, too. It burned too bright to ignore. It festers even now. He’s only been gone for twenty minutes top, yet it feels like a wisp of memory. His scent still wafts in the room, keeping his memory perfunctory, but that’s all he left. Did he have secrets, too? Ones that forced him out the door?

  Would he have stayed if I told him we could meet up again? That even though we only just met and fucked I wanted it to be a permanent thing?

  What’s wrong with me?

  I drink and drink until the bottle of Jaeger is long gone and spots line my vision. By the time I wake up, my back is sore. My neck feels like it stayed angled wrong too long, and the music from the bar is dead. Shuffling out of the room, I spot a note on the door.

  Bossman,

  We figured you needed the sleep. Locked up, and left the key in the lockbox outside.

  See you tomorrow.

  - The coolest employees ever

  If my soul didn’t feel so detached from my body, I would laugh. Landon, the smart ass. He had to have written the note. Sandra would’ve smacked me into awareness. She isn’t one to let it slide when anyone drinks on the job.

  This hasn’t happened since Whit and I had the conversation. The drinking only truly happened because of the guilt of making her stay so long in a romance-less marriage. It drove me to be less of a man for a while.

  Now, I’m foggy, hungover, and cotton-mouthed beyond belief. Unlocking my cell, I notice several texts from my daughter.

  Dad? You okay? You said you’d be late, but it’s like five in the morning.

  I’m calling Sandra.

  I searched the entire house, even your mini man cave in the back. Where are you?

  Sandra said you got wasted. That’s so unlike you. Talk to me. What’s wrong?

  I’m guessing you haven’t woken up. I’ll wait for you.

  Nausea claws its way up my throat, making me heave before I race to the bathroom. I stumble through the door, getting to the sink before hurling up all the liquid in my stomach. That’s all there is. Booze. Did I even remember to eat yesterday? It was a busy day, and duties needed fulfilling... Jesus.

  Wiping my mouth, I rinse the sink a
nd mentally chastise myself for the choices I’ve made in the last twenty-four hours. Then, I gargle with some water to clear the alcoholic burn frothing in my throat.

  Checking the time, I see it’s nine in the morning. Fuck, I’m such a bad father. Flipping the water to cold, I splash it on my face, hoping to get out of this fog of sadness and culpability. After a few deep breaths, I try collecting myself.

  Prim’s going to ask so many questions.

  What the hell do I say?

  “Hey, princess, I think I met my soul mate last night. Oh, and here’s the kicker. It’s a guy. I’m gay. Sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been in the closet my entire life. Great conversation.”

  Yeah, this fucking sucks. No matter the turn of events, it won’t bode well for me.

  I drive home on autopilot, hoping to get a shower before her friend stops by. Hopefully, he isn’t there already. That would be embarrassing for me and her. How do I grill the dude who may have bad intentions when I can’t even admit to my daughter that I’m not into women? She’s going to flip. My only wish is that she didn’t really stay up the entire night. She’s a worrier, never willing to back down on the ones she loves.

  What a snafu.

  TEXAS

  I’ve never run from a situation faster. He wanted my name, and I fucking booked it while he went to get us a drink. Maybe it’s being a closeted gay or the fact that he could tell Prim since her dad owns the place. Either way, fear took over me in an instant. There’s a less than zero chance I’ll forget our time together. His possessive hands are engraved on more than just my skin. How do you get a connection from one simple chance encounter? It’s like fate. We met and found each other, but we both didn’t end up together.

  They never claimed fate wasn’t cruel.

  Bartender was not only my first. He left his mark in more than one way.

  After staring at myself for an insanely long time in the mirror of the little inn, I jerked off several times just to ease the tension rolling off me in waves.