Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (131 page)

his balance. Leaning right and left and gripping the seat, tightening up

one side and then the other. Oh, and if he stopped suddenly, the force

of gravity or velocity or whatever it was would push his balls into

contact with the seat and, man. Nik swallowed. Trooper Tight-ass

turned around to face him.

Nik pulled the neck of his shirt out, trying to get some air in there.

It hadn’t cooled off as much as he’d thought. He stopped walking.

Damn.
He was staring again. The cop was watching him,

carefully. No sunglasses, but way too dark to see much but a defined

brow and some shadowy eyes.

“Nik.”

Nik smiled. Just a helpful guy. “Hi, Trooper Dammerung. We’re

closed. Sorry.” He kept smiling.

“You can call me Jurgen.” His voice was barely loud enough for

Nik to hear it from across the lot.

Nik fought the urge to move forward to hear him better and smiled

brighter, extra friendly. “Oh, that’s alright Trooper Dammerung.”

Jurgen just looked at him. It was becoming something of a strain

to keep the smile on his face.

“I didn’t come by to shop,” he finally said, and took a step toward

Nik. Motorcycle boots. The black leather ones with those stacked

heels and the square toes and that strap across the instep. Nik felt his

smile falter as Jurgen moved closer. He was moving slowly, but with

a clear destination in mind. “I came by to talk to you.” He stuffed his

hands in those jean pockets, stretching everything tight across the

front.

Not that Nik looked. “Yeah?” His puzzled smile. Good old simple

Nik. “What about, Trooper Dammerung?” Nik caught a slight flinch

when he used Jurgen’s title yet again. He upped the wattage.

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Jurgen stopped a couple feet away. “That guy you were sitting on

the porch with today, he your boyfriend?”

Oh, jeez.
Well, at least he was going to be upfront about it. Nik

dropped the simple guy act and the smile. He sighed. “No.”

“Good. Let me take you for a ride on my chopper.”

“No,” Nik said flatly.

Jurgen didn’t look surprised. “No? Why not?” He raised a slightly

mocking brow.

“Just because I’m the only gay guy around doesn’t mean we have

to hook up.”

“You’re not the only gay guy around. Your friend’s gay.”

“So, if he’d come out here instead of me you’d be wanting to take

him for a ride? On your bike?”

“It’s a chopper. I’d be asking him if you were around here,

somewhere.”

“Would you ask him if he was my boyfriend, first?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Jurgen shrugged. A guy as hot as he was probably wasn’t used to

doing much more than crooking his finger. He probably figured if he

got face time, he got the guy.

“Listen to me carefully, Trooper Hook-up. I am not a tourist

attraction. Just because I’m the only ‘colored’ tail in Whitetail doesn’t

mean I’m open for business.”

Jurgen looked a little stymied for a second. It was alarmingly cute.

He cocked his head. “I wasn’t thinking this would be a business

relationship.”

“I think you know what I mean,” Nik said dryly, giving in to the

urge to prop a hand on his hip. It was a damn shame this guy was just

another white boy looking for some dark meat — he’d met enough

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around here to know when he was looking at one—‘cause Nik might

have actually considered letting his slut come out to play for Jurgen.

“Just what kind of relationship were you thinking about?”

Damn. Who let the slut have control of the mouth?

Jurgen’s lips curled up at the ends, barely noticeable. He had

beautiful lips. So defined you could have thought he had on lip liner,

except guys like him so patently didn’t wear lip liner.

“I was thinking about a mutually beneficial partnership based on

reciprocal pleasure.”

Nik snorted. Like that wasn’t so obvious. He let a cynical smile

slip out. “When you say ‘relationship’, just how long-term are we

talking about?” Jurgen was stock still. He didn’t flinch when Nik said

the ‘r’-word, but he didn’t breathe, either.

Jurgen stared at him a minute, then took a step forward. Nik had

to tilt his head back a bit now, or not look at his face. The stakes were

too high to not look at his face. “A pretty short-term one. I think you

already knew that.”

“I don’t do one-offs.”
Much.

“I’m good for at least twice.” Another step forward.

In a night? Shut up.
“Are you sure this isn’t a business deal?”

“I’m sure. This is me wanting to fuck you.”

All Nik’s muscles seized up for a split second and he caught his

breath. Okay, he so wasn’t in to the master thing, but that? Was hot.

And direct. Very, very direct. He could feel his body shifting blood

flow around. Higher thought? Not important. Shunt all blood south.

His heart started working harder to meet demand.

He still couldn’t see Jurgen’s eye color, but his eyes were as

perfectly shaped as the rest of him, and they were looking calmly

down at him. Nik hated that Jurgen could look so calm when he’d just

said that. He was just about to laugh in Trooper Booty-call’s face

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when Jurgen’s tongue wet his lower lip. Just a flicker Nik would have

missed if he’d looked away.

So, he didn’t laugh. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you well enough.”

“After a combined total of fifteen minutes?”

“You have a forceful personality.”

He wasn’t the forceful one, here. He shrugged, even though it took

effort to make it nonchalant. “I guess it’s better than having none.”

Hint, hint.

Jurgen smiled.

Guh. He even had sexy teeth. He leaned in to Nik a little. “Is that

supposed to be a compliment?” He pulled one hand out of a pocket

and stroked a dry, slightly rough palm up Nik’s bare forearm.

Instant goosebumps. Nik grit his teeth and locked his spine. He

may not be able to tell what color Jurgen’s eyes were, but he could see

the mockery in them just fine. Jurgen’s hand stroked slowly up and

down his skin, sweeping up to his biceps, down to his elbow, then up

over Nik’s sleeve to his deltoid. Jurgen found and followed Nik’s

clavicle, under his shirt, with his fingertips. He found more naked skin

at the nape of Nik’s neck with his fingers, stroking his thumb back and

forth across Nik’s jugular.

Oh, he was so good. “So, why me?” Nik sounded short of breath

to himself.

“I kept wondering what you taste like.” Jurgen pulled his other

hand out of its pocket, gripping Nik’s waist, hooking a pinky into a

belt-loop.

Nik, the big, stupid, hormonally-challenged idiot, swayed into

him. “What do you think I’ll taste like?” He planted a palm on Jurgen’s

chest. For balance.

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“Cinnamon.” Jurgen’s lips were right over his, and Nik could see

his eyes trained on them. Up this close, with Jurgen all out of focus,

Nik thought maybe his eyes were blue. Typical.

“I bet you taste like wiener-schnitzel,” Nik said against Jurgen’s

lips.

Jurgen chuckled into his mouth when he kissed him. Nik felt it

echo around in his chest.

He did it so right, too. Forcing Nik’s lips to open but not being

forceful, exactly. Sliding that hand up the back of Nik’s neck and

gripping his head to tilt it, the other hand sliding to the small of Nik’s

back and pressing him in. Jurgen took another small step and brought

his thigh between Nik’s legs. Nik pressed his groin into the join of

Jurgen’s hip and made a tiny, almost-moan in the back of his throat.

It was so embarrassing. It didn’t stop him from stretching his body

against Jurgen’s, lining up their torsos, letting Jurgen grind his

erection into Nik’s hip.
Nice, already hard.
He slid his arms around

Jurgen’s neck and held on to his hair, opening his mouth as wide as

possible, letting Jurgen in. Nik moaned louder. Jurgen gripped his

head tighter, holding him still, sucking the air out of Nik’s lungs for

himself.

Then he let up, letting Nik down from the kiss, retreating from his

mouth, backing off enough to let Nik breathe. Their lips separated.

“You’re not even my type,” Nik said inanely, out of breath.
Oh, yes he

is.

Jurgen smiled, still close enough that Nik could feel it more than

see it. “It’s okay. You’re mine.”

Nik slid his hands down to push against Jurgen’s chest, letting go

of his hair. “What’s your type? Willing?” Which he was, to his

chagrin.

“The kind of guy who makes me hot.”

Nik’s hands didn’t seem to be doing any pushing. They were more

kind of resting. And maybe caressing. Jeez those pecs were hard as—

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“I don’t normally kiss random hook-ups.” Jurgen said it

conversationally, as if it was a little tidbit Nik might find interesting.

Oh, and it’s going to rain tomorrow.

Nik blinked. That kiss was… more than the average kiss.

Embarrassingly more. More than what
he
would have given a random

hook-up. Nik came back to reality with a thud. “You don’t kiss?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. I don’t let men fuck me if they won’t kiss me.” He

pushed away from Jurgen, forcing his hands from Nik’s waist.

“How about a blow job?”

Nik looked him up and down. “Be my guest,” he said, raising an

eyebrow.

Jurgen’s lips curved up in a smile. “Well, I already kissed you

once. I guess I can make an exception for you.”

“Oh, don’t do me any favors, Trooper Hook-up.”

“C’mon,” Jurgen’s voice got low—lower—and rougher. “It’s not

like I’d leave you hanging.” He took a step forward. Nik took a step

back, then another. Not too big a step. Being pursued had its charms,

after all.

Jurgen took another step forward, smile flirting with his lips. He

oozed sex. “I’d take care of you too, baby.” Nik hated it when men

called him baby. That’s what the chill up his spine was about. “I’d love

to get my hands all over you.” He slipped his palm back around Nik’s

waist, to demonstrate. When did he get so close?

Nik took a step back.

Jurgen stepped with him. He slid his palm slowly around to the

small of Nik’s back, fingers probing the muscles. “I love these

muscles. I bet it’d be a hell of a view, you on your knees in front of

me, watching those muscles flex as I pushed into you.”

Nik swallowed. He could so see it, a slight sheen of sweat, his

muscles defined and straining from the tension of letting Jurgen in. He

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closed his eyes, swaying toward Jurgen. He felt Jurgen’s other palm

coming to rest on his abdomen. Rubbing small circles that moved

slowly downward, slipping the fabric of his t-shirt across his skin. Nik

felt the sparse hairs below his navel catch and pull in the fabric.

“But you won’t let me fuck you?” Jurgen was speaking into his

ear, softly, his breath falling on Nik’s neck. “That’s okay, baby.” Nik

suppressed another shiver. “I’d get naked and sweaty with you. Bring

you off with my hand or my mouth or just by rubbing against you.

You like that? I’d wrap both of us in my hand and stroke us together.

Feel your cock slide against mine.”

Oh, god.

“You know what I want, Nik? I want you naked on your knees in

front of me. I wanna watch your lips suck my cock and I wanna feel

myself come down your throat. So hot, your skin next to mine, dark

lips wrapped around me.”

Thud.

Jurgen kept talking, but Nik had stopped listening. His eyes flew

open, and he found he was looking straight over Jurgen’s shoulder, to

his motorcycle and the highway beyond. The small part of Whitetail

Rock behind him shut up tight and dark for the night.

Oh. Duh. Of course. He was back in his hometown, Hicksville,

USA. Where he was the most exotic piece of ass for two hundred