Hellbent (Four Horsemen MC Book 5) (32 page)

"You can't. Not because of … I ain't worth …"

Beauregard grinned wider. "What's this? Relationship troubles?"

Pretty Boy snarled, "Mind your own, man."

"This is rather inconvenient, gentlemen. While it is in my best interests for your sordid, little drama to play out as long as possible, I simply don't have the time to delicately finesse this shit along." Beauregard sighed. He palmed the pistol again. "Allow me to expedite matters. I'm going to have my guys drop you about an hour outside of town. Between that long walk, and the ride in the trunk, I trust you'll have time to work out your issues." He raised a brow. “Just consider me your therapist
[O2]
 
.”

Pretty Boy growled, frustration aching in his muscles. Shep's mouth was shut tight.

"But just to demonstrate how I treat my business partners, I'm going to do you two lovebirds a favor." He leveled the gun at Pretty Boy, then slowly swiveled to train it on Shep. He cocked it back, finger poised on the trigger. "You or him. Choose now."

"Me!" They shouted in unison.

Beauregard stood, twirling the pistol like some mockery of a western gunslinger. "Take my advice. That gut-wrenching, involuntary reaction you each just had? Start there when you get to talking. You've got twenty-four hours, Shep. If I haven't heard from you … if I were you, I wouldn't bet that I'm bluffing, understand?"

Shep nodded, his face drawn, angry and…resigned. God, Pretty Boy hated Beauregard. "Understood."

"Now, I've kept my uninvited guest waiting long enough. If you want Duke to leave here in one piece, you won't give my guys any trouble on the way out. Here's my number when you come to your senses." He tucked a card with seven numbers on it and nothing else into Pretty Boy's shirt pocket, then he stood and crossed to the door. "Have a real good evening, boys. Enjoy the fresh air."

"Motherfucker!" Shep cursed.

Amen, brother.

Chapter Thirty-One

Being a Horsemen is forever.

~Four Horsemen Prospect Handbook

* * *

Pretty Boy darted glances at Shep as they walked down the moonlit road. "Shep …"

"Don't. Just don't." Shep sighed. "Keep walking."

Pretty Boy swallowed. Shep was all up in his head right now and Pretty Boy would love to get a peek at what was going on in there. But that would happen when Shep was damn good and ready, and Pretty Boy knew that.

Beauregard had ordered them dropped off a good thirty miles outside of Hell, in the middle of bum-fucked nowhere. When they finally reached a town, Shep walked into the first 7-11 he saw. He grabbed two bottles of water, two power bars, two packs of smokes and a box of lubricated condoms. Pretty Boy tripped over his own feet and faked a coughing fit. The guy behind the counter clearly thought he was just giving Shep shit, but truthfully his brain was having trouble processing what precisely this purchase meant.

There was a motel across the street and Shep headed straight forward without a word. He came back out of the office with one room key and waved at Pretty Boy to follow. As he tried to get the swipe card to read correctly, Pretty Boy cleared his throat. "Shep, you've got to talk to me. I’m so sorry—"

The door swung open and Shep turned to face him. "Shut up and get in the damn room."

"Yes, sir." Pretty Boy shook. Shep had to be supernova pissed at him right now, but the heat in his eyes hinted at more than anger.

He blinked at the dimness of the room. But as his eyes adjusted to seeing by the light emanating from behind the mustard yellow curtain, he could make out neutral colors and blah beige everywhere. The oldest TV known to man. Faux wood paneling.

And one king-sized bed.

The door thunked closed and the deadbolt snapped into place with a loud clink. Shep grabbed a bottle of water, dropped his bag on the floor and faced him. Pretty Boy wet his lips. Shep chugged back half the bottle and wordlessly handed it to him. He leaned back against the closed door and gulped it down.

Shep moved in close to him with purpose, his lips dropping to Pretty Boy's throat to trace the movements of his swallows.

Pretty Boy made a strangled sound, nearly choking as his knees wobbled. The heat rolling through him ratcheted up another notch. "What are you doing? I thought you were pissed."

"I'm furious," Shep breathed hotly in his ear. He placed the long line of his forearm across Pretty Boy's collar bone, pinning him to the door. "Because I just figured out what the fuck's been going on."

Pretty Boy bit his lip, trying to maintain any kind of composure until he knew what this was. "And what's that?"

"You think I haven't touched you," Shep said, voice rough and deep, "Because I don't think you're worth it. That's my fault."

Pretty Boy groaned as Shep ground their hips together in a slow, rolling rotation. "You don't have to lie to me, Shep. I know what I am."

"No, you don't." Shep shoved his arm against his chest. "But I'm going to show you."

Shep's mouth slanted down over his, his tongue thrusting slick and deep. Pretty Boy's hands clamped down on Shep's hips.  He opened up, savoring the luscious slide of Shep's mouth sweeping across his. He groaned and broke away. "We…but…what are you going to do about Beauregard?"

"Right now, I want you more than I want to kick his teeth in," Shep groaned in his ear as their bodies moved against each other. "Tomorrow, I'm going to tell the truth and shame the devil. And tonight, unless you tell me no, I'm going to have this." He punctuated his last word with a sinful roll of his hips. "I don't deserve it, but I want it. And I'm not strong enough to say no for the both of us right now."

Pretty Boy looked up at Shep, praying this was really happening and wasn't some dehydration-fueled hallucination. "I'm not saying 'no.'"

Shep's mouth brushed his ear as he leaned close. "I'm going to fuck you. The way I always wanted to. Slow and filthy and looking you in the eyes as I take you apart."

His mouth went dry and a low, needy sound escaped his lips. He gasped, "Please. Yes, please."

Shep shoved Pretty Boy's cut off his shoulders to the floor, peeling his shirt off and dropping it too. He slid his hands over Pretty Boy's trembling six pack as he captured his mouth in another searing kiss. Shep's fingers fastened on Pretty Boy's belt buckle. He pulled the belt from the loops, then tugged Pretty Boy's jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs, freeing his erection.

Pretty Boy sucked in a ragged breath. "You're killing me."

"No," Shep breathed, voice all whiskey rough though he was stone cold sober. His hands boldly closed over Pretty Boy's cock. Shep focused in on every reaction, every hungry, dirty sound, every flinch and twitch and whimper. Slowly, holding his gaze, Shep dropped to his knees. "I'm worshipping you."

He dragged his nails down Pretty Boy's inner thigh, smirking as he shook beneath the touch. With languid moments, he wrapped his lips around the head and sucked Pretty Boy deep into his mouth in one wet, reverent slide.

Pretty Boy's hands grasped at the door behind him, as if his fingers could dig through the wood. He let out a deep, aching moan as Shep's hand joined his mouth, thoroughly and completely working him over.

His hips pivoted forward instinctually, but Shep held him in place while he trembled with sensation. Shep's mouth was hot and wet, all bluntly grazing teeth and firm, insistent suction. When he pulled off, Pretty Boy panted for breath.

"You are everything I ever wanted. Seeing you here like this, turned on and overheating." Shep made a deep, possessive sound low in his throat. He surged to his feet, his fingers wrapping around Pretty Boy's jaw as he kissed him, an invasive onslaught of need. "It's almost more than I can take."

Pretty Boy's eyes burned and he had to work at swallowing for a second. "You can't mean that."

"Believe me, I do." Shep tugged Pretty Boy against him, mouth moving hotly over his shoulder, up his throat and nipping at his jawline. He spun them, walking Pretty Boy back toward the bed until the backs of his knees nocked against the frame. Shep pushed him down and he sprawled back.

"You're wearing too many clothes, VP." Pretty Boy smirked, eyes devouring Shep standing over him.

Shep stripped off his shirt and shoved his pants down, kicking them off. He grabbed the box of condoms out of the bag and tossed them towards the pillow. He crawled onto the bed, moving up Pretty Boy's body to settle between his legs.

Pretty Boy's hands slid through Shep's hair, curling in the blond softness and tugging. Shep's hand slid down his side, cupping his ass. He shifted, aligning their bodies so their groins slotted together in all the right ways. He pulled Shep's face close, whispering against his mouth, "God, yes."

Shep reached out and snagged Pretty Boy's wrists and pressed them back on either side of his head. His hips kept moving as if by their own volition. Swallowing thickly, Shep said, "I owe you the truth before we do this."

"What's that?" Pretty Boy could barely think. Shep taking possession of him, aggressively pursuing what he wanted, leading and dominating like this—it was better than anything he'd fantasized. Better than
everything
he’d fantasized.

"I'm in love with you. I have been since I met you. And you have every right to hate me." Shep stilled and the loss of friction had them both gritting their teeth.

Could he be for real?
Pretty Boy’s heart clenched so hard, he thought he was about to die. He stared into Shep's face. “If it weren’t for you—I’d be dead now, I
know
it, Shep. I don’t deserve anything from you, not with how much I owe you."

"I was supposed to look out for you, show you something better in the world—and I killed a man—your father—in front of you.” Shep shook against him. “I tried to show you what faith could do, then turned my back on every vow I ever meant.”

"He deserved it." Pretty Boy bucked up against Shep, the growl the move elicited curling his toes. “Don’t you know you were my guardian angel that night?”

“I wanted to keep you safe, and all I could think about was what I really wanted. And how much of an asshole I was to want to take advantage of you.” Shep heaved a harsh breath like it had physically hurt to say that.

“It’s not taking advantage if we both want it,” Pretty Boy whispered, moving instinctively against Shep.
God, he wanted it.

"Stop squirming, before I lose control." Shep shuddered.

"What in the fuck makes you think," he panted in Shep's ear, "that I wouldn't want that."

Shep groaned and he ground his hips down on Pretty Boy's. "Because of the way you swallow and shake every time you realize I am in control."

Pretty Boy spread his legs, hand blindly searching for the box of condoms. Shep nudged the head of his cock along the cleft in Pretty Boy's ass and he almost dropped it. He tore the cardboard with his teeth and ripped it open. Shep took it from him, rolling it down his erect length. He grabbed the lube he'd picked up with the condoms, squeezed it onto his dick and slowly slicked the head.

"Shep," he moaned.

"Tell me what you want," Shep demanded, nudging his thighs further apart.

"Fuck me. Please … please."

"You begging is so goddamn hot." He took a few breaths. "Tell me if I hurt you."

"You never would," Pretty Boy promised. Shep slid a finger past the tight ring of muscle and Pretty Boy cried out. "Son of a bitch!"

He moved gently, inserting another finger and slowly readying him. Pretty Boy’s eyes rolled back in his head. His heels dug into the mattress, his whole body helping him beg for more. "Just do it. Fuck me."

Shep removed his fingers, adjusted his angle and inch by torturous inch slid inside him. Pretty Boy gasped as he throbbed with how hard he had become. A feeling of completeness welled up beneath his ribs, irresistibly filling him. Shep cradled his face, staring into his eyes as their breaths mingled.

"Mine," Shep moaned into his mouth.

Pretty Boy's voice broke when he answered, "Yes."

Shep fucked him with excruciating languor, eating up his desperate gasps and needful noises, staring straight through him. When his cock raked against just the right spot, Pretty Boy's body spasmed around him.

Shep laughed softly, challenge in his eyes. "Oh, you like that?"

He dragged his lip through his bottom teeth, grating out into too many syllables, "Fuck."

"That's what I'm doing." Shep smirked and rolled against that same spot, hitting it with exact same pressure. Pretty Boy moaned embarrassingly loud. With a fluid, rhythmic pivot, Shep repeated the movement over and over and over, slowly rocking into him.

His hands clawed into Shep's shoulders as he shuddered uncontrollably. "Sh-Sh-Shep …"

Shep settled his hand over Pretty Boy's heartbeat and kept up that grinding hot, sweet rocking slide. "It's okay, just take it. Focus on how good it feels and take it."

Pretty Boy arched and pushed back onto Shep's cock. Shep leaned down and kissed him, tongue licking into his mouth with flickering caresses that made his stomach flutter. Then Shep wrapped his hand around Pretty Boy's dick, he cursed as a wave of pleasure crashed through him.

Shep continued twisting and pressing against him, not breaking the rhythm even when he moved to bite gently down Pretty Boy's neck. His hand stroked Pretty Boy's erection with firm, practiced movements. He licked the rim of Pretty Boy's ear and whispered, "I'm so into you that the fact that I'm fucking you is turning me on even more. I want to feel you for hours, desperate and writhing beneath me."

Pretty Boy fought to hold his orgasm back as Shep kept fucking him with brutally slow paced, relentless thrusts. He couldn't hold back the moans rolling through him as he moved helplessly under Shep's control.

Suddenly, Shep's hands carded into Pretty Boy's hair and he tugged sharply, holding Pretty Boy still. He hooked his hand under Pretty Boy's knee and adjusted their position, hitting the sweet spot more firmly now. Pretty Boy trembled in his arms. "Shep …I need you."