Rough [02] - Roughhousing (23 page)

Bram stepped up to James’ side and gave him the same adoring stare Macy was giving Mitch. “You keep working hard learning about investments and I'm sure the right guy will come along for you, too, Macy. Good people deserve to have good things happen to them.” He kissed the top of James’ head and squeezed him before letting go. “Sometimes it just takes digging in your heels and holding on to what you want in life."

"I'll remember that.” Macy smoothed out any imagined wrinkles in her short skirt, probably more for Mitch's benefit than for her skirts. “Oh, by the way, I don't take the classes, I teach them."

Bram froze in the middle of shifting a chair onto his shoulder. James traded disbelieving expressions with him. All of the men turned to stare at Macy. She preened and giggled.

"I have an MBA. Class of ‘02. I support myself with teaching adult classes at the local junior college and I work nights as a dancer to have money for my investment fund. If a girl is any good at dancing, which I am,” she giggled again, “she can make over five thousand dollars a month in tips at a nice place like the Lounge. And all she has to do is dance, if you know what I mean.” Macy nodded knowingly and batted her eyelashes. “Lots of rich, older guys just want to watch a girl move, you know?"

"Jesus, Lord, angel woman. God help me. You are the answer to my nightly prayers.” Licking his lips, Mitch groaned out loud. The leering gleam in his stare softened and took on a more delighted, curious light. James thought he actually witnessed the man switch his interest in Macy from merely lustful to seriously intrigued. He'd recognized that same look in Bram's eyes since their first night together. He felt a sudden flush of affection and lust for his lover and turned to look at him, drinking in the sight of the brawny man's buff, tapered form and handsome, angled face. James knew he was a lucky man.

Swaying seductively in place on her heels and long legs, Macy giggled and returned Mitch's single-minded stare.

Overwhelmed with the sudden need to leave this place and get back on track with his life with Bram, James moved to Macy and gently eased a sleeping Kitty into her arms. James glanced around at the other men. His eyes lingered appreciatively on Bram.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm interested in a cold beer and game of pool. What about hitting the Atlantic when we're done?"

Bram winked at James and jumped to life. “Now there's a plan. Let's get the rest of the stuff loaded and over to the house. We can save arranging it for tomorrow once it's inside."

The rest of the crew followed suit, and the apartment was completely empty in a matter of three minutes.

Macy had run off to change her clothes, spurred on by an invitation from Mitch to join them that was seconded by every man present. She returned in under five minutes, minus Kitty, in a short, denim skirt, a pale blue tank top stretched to its limits, and pink and blue cowboy boots. She grinned at Mitch's appreciative expression and climbed into the truck cab beside him.

Wedged in Bram's truck, James was inordinately pleased for the first time ever to be the small guy that got stuck in the middle of the bench seat. He rubbed against Bram's side and let his hand rest almost innocently on the man's thigh, content to relax against Bram solid bulk and breathe in the earthy scent of Bram's warm body.
This
day was getting better.

* * * *

The Atlantic Bar and Grill hadn't changed since the last time James cruised through it. The room was still dimly lit. The sharp crack of smacking pool balls competed with the rock and roll music thundering out of the jukebox and the floor still made a gritty scratch and scrape as he walked across it. The smell of beer and peanuts brought back memories of the first time he laid eyes on Bram and his cock jumped and hardened. His gaze automatically darted to lock on Bram and he found his lover already eyeing him, lust and want in that pale blue stare.

The bar wasn't the most romantic place, but it held a deep meaning for them. He could see them coming here for their anniversary year after year. Gazes still riveted on each other, James had the sudden, feral mental image of Bram bending him over the pool table and taking him fast and hard. He wished he could subtly rearrange his swelling cock to keep it from being strangled in his jeans.

Buck slapped Bram on the back, forcing Bram to break the flirtatious stare, and Marty challenged Bram to a game of pool. Mitch and Mike volunteered to go to the bar for pitchers of beer while Macy dragged James off to pump the jukebox full of quarters looking for something she could dance to. James was a little afraid of the stir a professional pole dancer might make dancing in a biker bar, but he soon learned that trying to separate Macy from her music was a waste of energy. He dumped five dollars worth of quarters into the machine and let her pick and choose her favorite songs.

They wandered back over to the pool tables as Mitch and Mike appeared with the beer and they all watched Bram run Buck off the table in a leisurely game.

Macy swayed in time to Linda Ronstadt's
Desperado
and casually flirted with every man in the bar until Mitch made a move and asked her to dance on the tiny dance floor in front of the jukebox.

Mike punched James’ arm every time the red jersey clad football team on the TV over the bar scored and kept topping off James’ glass with beer from a pitcher when it got anywhere near half empty.

Everyone was feeling the bonds of friendship and the pleasant sensation of giving a helping hand to someone in need. James watched the affectionate, tight ties of brotherhood between Bram and the crew, seeing the basic goodness and caring of Bram's personality in his every interaction with his men. There was a strong bond of caring between these people, and he was being offered a place in their circle by virtue of Bram having chosen him to be at his side. These gruff, hard-bodied, and hard-living men trusted Bram. James realized it was about time he did, too.

Having gorged themselves on pizza and wings while unloading the trucks, thirst was their driving force once at the bar. Pitchers were emptied and refilled in record time.

All of James’ things were now haphazardly piled in the once empty library at Bram's house. He was permanently ensconced in the man's bed and at his table. An odd feeling of surreal happiness made James almost giddy at the thought. Three beers into the evening, he found he had to keep himself from grabbing Bram and crawling up that towering, muscle-bound, sexy body.

Standing in the middle of a biker bar, that course of action seemed less than wise, but after all they'd been through, James wasn't in the mood to be denied. After a quick, covert glance around to judge the crowd in the rest of the place, he set down his glass, strode determinedly, if a bit unsteadily, over to Bram, and firmly took the pool cue out of Bram's unresisting hands. He tossed it at a surprised but quick acting Mike, who deftly caught it and moved to the table.

James stood squarely in front of Bram and looked up into his lover's curious, smiling face. Giving him a sultry, smoldering stare, James slowly wet his lips then raked his teeth over the lower swell of plump, shiny, pink flesh before saying, “Let's get some air."

When Bram took more than a second to respond, James turned up the heat of his stare and repeated Bram's own words to him from their first night together here in this bar. “Do I have to drag you out?"

The predatory gleam that sparked to life in Bram's eyes made James nearly come in his jeans. His breathing became ragged and he shivered with anticipation. Bram's scorching stare fueled the shudders of need sizzling through his body.

With a huge effort, James broke his eyes away and walked toward the open back door that led to the alley behind the bar. A few quiet catcalls from Buck and Mitch traveled his way, but he knew Bram followed him by the wall of heat at his back and the smell of earthy sweat and old leather that was all Bram's own familiar scent.

The night was black as coal, the light from the single streetlight attached to the second story of the building cast a dirty yellow stream of light that didn't extend twenty feet into the damp, cold alleyway. James shivered and rubbed his hands together, glad he'd worn a thick, soft, chamois shirt tonight. As he passed by a stack of old crates outside the door, he glanced at several men and two women smoking a bong and comparing tattoos. No one paid him any more attention then a sleepy-eyed blink.

Several yards past them, a hand snaked down the back of his jeans and grabbed onto his waistband. James grunted, but smiled when he was jerked to one side and shoved up against a cold, grimy brick wall, Bram's weight pinning him to its rough, pitted surface. Jagged mortar lines dug into his back and his cock jumped. He could feel it leaking against the coarse weave of his jeans. The alley smelled of autumn, old leaves, crisp air, and the fumes from the bong. It was an invigorating, exotic mix for James.

The pleased, expectant smile disappeared off his face, swallowed by Bram's mouth as the man seemed to try to consume him. The kiss was hot, possessive, and rough. It seared right through him, hunger and heat forging a path past his lips, down his throat, through his heart, and straight into his groin. It stole his breath, made him blind, and dimmed his hearing. His knees went weak and his muscles trembled. The last breath in his lungs escaped as a needy groan and Bram swallowed it before James even knew he'd made it.

A hard knee forced its way between his thighs as James wantonly spread them, bucking his hips up to meet Bram's grinding flesh. It was like wrapping his thighs around a tree trunk, heavy, solid, and unyielding. Grabbing onto Bram's shoulders, James let Bram take all of his weight, settling his cock hard against the firmness of Bram's leg and melting into the growing demands of the still ongoing kiss.

His hips bucked, excitement building at a startling rate as callused fingers roughly raked through his curls and grabbed hold of his head. His face was tilted up and Bram became ravenous, tasting, licking, sucking and biting James’ lips, tongue, chin, and neck in a dizzying, irregular pattern of lust and frenzied desire.

Passion sizzled across every nerve ending in James’ system. Bram dropped one hand to knead and grope the curve of James’ ass. James squirmed and moaned, his rim clenching and flaring, eager for more, demanding to be filled and stretched, instantly answering the familiar call of his lover's bold touch.

Desire exploded into desperate need and James resigned himself to coming in his pants.

"Hey, dudes! Break it up!"

Bram jerked back from the kiss, slid James’ off his thigh, and turned so that his lover was mostly hidden from the interloper's sight.

A thirty-something biker in worn jeans, a Rolling Stones T-shirt, and a heavy road leather jacket that showed the blue suede marks of numerous hits on pavement, indignantly stood ten feet away from them. He held out his hands in a beseeching gesture, an exasperated expression on his bedraggled, bearded face. Even at this distance, James could see the man was stoned.

"Come on, dudes, you're using my office. Got deals to make here tonight, you know?"

Bram gave his most intimidating stare, but it had little effect on the drugged and overly mellow man. “Got a problem, buddy?"

"Hey, no worries dudes, I'm cool.” The guy pulled a small packet half-full of a powdery white substance from his pocket and tapped it. “Name's Mule.” He palmed the packet and extended his hand. “Go ahead, dudes. Give it a hit. Best shit in town. You'll fly!"

Obviously pissed off, Bram grabbed James by the shoulder and brushed abruptly past Mule, bumping him forcefully with his shoulder. As he passed by, he quietly told Mule, “Thanks,
Jackass
, but we'll pass. If I'm going to suck down something that's going to make me feel good, it's going to be my boyfriend's dick, not that shit."

"That's
Mule
, dude!"

James felt the possessive weight of Bram's hand on his shoulder and the heat of the man's large palm soothed away some of the anxiety the unwelcome interruption had sparked, but at the same time it fanned the flames of his aborted but not forgotten desires. He planned on Bram breaking a few speed limits on their way home.

Leaving a befuddled and swaying Mule behind them, they barely caught the biker's reaction as Bram's words finally penetrated the man's drug haze. “Christ!
Dudes
! Get a room!"

Chapter Sixteen

Bram's street was quiet and shrouded in familiar shadows, the streetlights barely cutting the moonless night. Fading, multi-hued leaves rustled in the light night breeze, adding a rhythmic beat to the crisp air. The street was dotted with parked cars here and there, all familiar and mostly unnoticed because of their familiarity. One or two registered on Bram as out of place, but his attention was focused on James and their mutually raging libidos.

Turning past a dark sedan parked at the entrance to his driveway, Bram pulled his truck into the circular drive at the front of his house. A manicured, six-foot hedge of privets separated the front drive from the street curb. He moved in close to James’ small Vibe and parked his massive truck in the shadows created by the wide, towering house. He would have pulled up next to the garage out back, but he had plans for James that didn't include alerting Miss Emily to their presence.

Turning off the truck, Bram wasted no time in getting James back in his arms. He was eager to celebrate James’ first official night in their home together.

"Come here, baby."

Bram pulled James into his lap as much as he could with the steering wheel in the way.

"Let me see if I can find where we left off.” He pulled James close to his chest and rubbed his hands down James’ slender back to the firm curve of his ass.

"Want to go inside?” James’ voice was strained and his pupils were dilated with lust. Bram knew how James felt—needy and desperate, just like he did.

"In a minute. Want you all to myself for a minute first. I hate being interrupted."

Getting a firm hold on James’ willing, warm body, he pulled his lover to him and ravaged James’ willing mouth. Cradling James’ upper torso in his arms, Bram supported James across his lean shoulders with one muscular arm. His other hand blindly groped James’ waist, quickly succeeding in unzipping James’ jeans. His deft fingers found and released the partially hard shaft. A few firm strokes and James was fully erect and shoving his hips into Bram's palm.