His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (10 page)

BOOK: His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8)
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Misha put his face against Grim’s
neck. “But not lower, okay?”

But despite his words, Grim’s breathing
became heavier and his fingers trailed down to the stump. Misha didn’t wait any
longer and grabbed Grim’s wrist. He pulled back to look into Grim’s face with a
frown. “I said, ‘not lower.’”

Grim let out a low growl and
clenched his fingers on Misha’s knee. “Fine,” he muttered eventually, but his
mouth was at Misha’s ear within a split second. “How about higher than that?”

Misha’s face heated up in an
instant, and he pushed on Grim’s shoulder. He reached out for his wheelchair to
pull it close, so he could transfer into it. “Some Prince Charming,” he
grumbled.

Grim grabbed his jaw, forcing
Misha to look into his eyes. “Am I a creep again? I thought we had that behind
us.”

“And I just told you I wasn’t
ready to have sex with anyone.” Misha swallowed, trying not to think about
Grim’s cock hardening under him. It’s not that it wasn’t a fantastic dick, but
it did make things more awkward. The size of it was hard to ignore, especially
with Grim wearing skintight pants.

Grim rolled his eyes. “Whatever.
Take the bed if you’re so precious.”

Misha watched him in silence,
trying to work out what the catch was, but Grim let him go, and he transferred
to the wheelchair with a bit of Grim’s help. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Grim waved his hand and walked
over to the bed. He took one of the pillows and the blanket without a word.

Misha rubbed his face. He was too
tired to deal with an upset Grim on top of his own issues. “Good night. Wake me
up for the sunrise.” Misha pulled off his tank top and fished out another one,
made out of lighter fabric, from his bag. He wheeled over to the bed and
crawled onto it. The bedding was soft and fresh. For a moment, he put the
pillow against his face and smelled it. The scent was different from his room
and from Gary’s sweat. He truly was somewhere else.

Grim lingered for a few more
seconds, and Misha could sense his gaze on himself, but in the end, the heavy
footsteps marched away. The sound of water came from the bathroom soon
afterward, making Misha finally relax. He changed into a pair of pajama shorts
and crawled under the soft sheet. With Grim around, he wasn’t that scared to be
in a new place, even if Grim decided to give Misha the silent treatment.

Grim took his time in the shower,
and Misha could only imagine what he was up to when the hot droplets streamed
down his body. With the erection he had by the time he left, it was an easy
guess. He was probably pulling his fist back and forth over that massive dick
until it spat cum all over the tiles. Misha rolled to his back and considered
jerking off himself, but the risk of being caught doing so was too great, and
if Grim saw him, he’d probably want to join in, and it would all become too
confusing.

Grim walked out of the bathroom in
only his underwear, which didn’t hide much, even though his erection was indeed
gone. In the frame of the open doorway between the bedroom and the living room,
he made a picture worthy of putting to paper. Strong muscle lined Grim’s whole
body, twisting when he walked up to the window and shut the curtains, without
ever looking toward where Misha was buried under the covers.

Misha curled into a ball and
closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, but kept opening them every time he
would almost start dreaming. His consciousness wouldn’t give up and kept
forcing him to check if he was really out of the basement. Once Grim turned off
the light in the other room, darkness creeped out of every corner and crawled
toward Misha’s bed. He pressed his eyelids tightly shut and pulled the sheet
over his head, listening to the thudding of his own heart. He tried to let it
go, think of something pleasant that would put him to sleep, but the horror
that appeared under his eyelids every time he closed his eyes had him sweating
and heaving again.

 

Chapter 9 – Misha

 

A few hours later, when Misha
opened his eyes and pulled off the sheet to get some cool air, there was not a
sound coming from the other room. No snoring and no breathing he could hear.
Would Grim have gone down to the bar without telling him? Left him here all
alone? He sat up in panic, now regretting he’d ever left the hotel. What if
that street camera had auto-recognized his face? What if people came to snatch
him and Grim would never even know where to look for him?

With his heart drumming the
funeral march, Misha spoke up, looking into the darkness in the other room.
“Grim?” his voice had a high pitch he wasn’t expecting. Nothing moved. The
faint light coming through a crack between the curtains revealed no trace of
his savior.

“Grim?” Misha spoke louder and
clawed his fingers over the sheet, as the walls seemed to push closer toward
him, ready to squish the life out of Misha.

This time, something stirred in
the other room, and the sound was followed by a faint groan. Misha gasped and
frantically rolled down from the bed. He lay flat on the carpet and breathed in
its scent, angry he hadn’t checked the bed frames before. There was no space
underneath the mattress that he could hide in, and so he listened on, trying to
keep his fingers from trembling. This couldn’t be happening. Someone had broken
in.
They’d
known he was here and had just waited for Grim to leave the
room. He couldn’t be taken again.

This was a nightmare.

He was dreaming.

“You’re dreaming,” he whispered
and began repeatedly pinching his arm, but nothing helped. He wasn’t waking up.

“What?” muttered Grim’s voice
from the darkness. “Andrey?”

Misha’s heartbeat was so loud he
was afraid it could give away his location, but the crumb of hope from the
other room made him crawl along the bed. “Is that you, Grim?”

“It’s our room,” muttered Grim in
a sleepy voice, and the light slid over his face when he sat up, emerging from
the dark form of the sofa. He yawned loudly.

“You … I thought you went to the
bar. I thought someone broke in.” Misha let out a deep sigh and rubbed his
face.

“What? No. I wouldn’t leave you
alone,” mumbled Grim sleepily.

“Oh. Okay ...” Misha had no idea
how to communicate his distress. Gary had never wanted to hear about his fears.

Grim was silent for several
moments, but eventually, his warm voice cuddled Misha’s shoulders. “You all
right, bird?”

“I freaked out. I’m sorry. Would
it be too much to ask you to sleep with me? I’m useless. I’m scared of my own
shadow. We can build a pillow wall if that makes you more comfortable. I don’t
want to make things weird.”

Grim laughed and got up from the
sofa, swaying slightly as he walked toward the bed. “Nah, I think we can manage
without a fort between us.”

“I—You know. No one likes a cock
tease. I don’t want to be a pain. I’d just really rather you are next to me.”
He swallowed, watching Grim’s body in the pale glow from the window. There were
a few scars scattered over Grim’s skin, but other than that, Grim could easily
compete with Misha’s favorite porn models. Misha sat up on the carpet and
looked up at the sex god above him. He was such a pathetic mess in comparison.
Freaking out over sleeping alone in a hotel bed.

Grim smirked and squatted in
front of Misha, reaching out to him. “Come on, I’ll help you into bed.”

“I know I’ll get over this at
some point. It’s all like a fresh wound, oozing blood every time I close my
eyes.” Misha got to his knees and let Grim pick him up. He could crawl back
onto the bed on his own but was embarrassed of how awkward that would look.
Even it was something many of his webcam viewers enjoyed seeing, Grim included.

Grim exhaled and slid his hand
over Misha’s ass, letting it linger for longer than necessary before pushing
himself up. “That’s ... poetic.”

Misha pouted and grabbed on to
Grim’s arm for balance. “I’ll just shut up. I’ll deal with it soon.” But he
only said that for Grim’s sake. He had no idea what his future sanity would
look like.

“No, go on,” said Grim quickly,
putting Misha on the mattress. He walked up to the headboard and crawled in
from the other side. Misha’s body stiffened as the other man’s weight
approached him, even more so when he realized they now had only one comforter
to share.

“I just want to be safe.” Misha
watched Grim’s moves as he lay down. “I’m sick of being scared all the time.
It’s fucking exhausting. Like my own body won’t let me rest.”

Grim rolled closer and picked up
the side of the comforter, letting in some cool air to tease Misha’s skin. Not
waiting for an invitation, Grim rolled underneath, so close to Misha it was
like lying by a burning coal that smelled of a musky shower gel. “Don’t worry.
I’ll be your shield.”

Misha let out a deep exhale and
finally let his muscles go lax. “This … is nice,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” whispered Grim, spooning
Misha like a giant teddy bear cuddled up in the warm snow of the comforter.
“Can you feel how sturdy I am? Nothing’s gonna go through this,” he said and
tensed his muscles, inevitably pushing his hips slightly forward.

Misha gasped but couldn’t deny
that being hugged this way by Grim didn’t feel like those times when he was
held down and forced to take whatever was unleashed on him. It still made his
heart beat faster and left him a bit skittish, but he didn’t feel like rolling
away. “If I get taken away again, I will die. And it will be on you, so you
have to make sure I’m safe.”

Grim gasped and pulled his arms
tighter around Misha. His scent was overwhelming Misha’s senses, shutting down
his defenses one by one. “You’re mine now. I’m not gonna let anyone else have
you.”

The warm brush of Grim’s breath
on Misha’s nape felt comforting rather than threatening, and Misha let himself
forget that he was so incomplete and that he would never walk. When they lay
down next to each other, it didn’t matter. He could see himself wanted for his
smile, his pretty face, even for his cock, ass, or a lean, flat stomach, but
not just the stumps.

“My name is Misha.” He squeezed
Grim’s hand, enjoying just how much bigger it was than his own. He thought
about how much damage it could do to anyone who tried to hurt him.

Grim squeezed him tighter,
placing a kiss on Misha’s nape as he molded his body to Misha’s, even aligning
their knees. “Pretty name.”

Goose bumps erupted all over
Misha’s arms at the tender kiss. “It doesn’t mean much anymore. Everyone always
ever wanted Andrey.”

“You made him seem believable,”
said Grim in the darkness, petting Misha’s arms under the covers. His shins
were touching Misha’s stumps, but he couldn’t find the will to fight Grim now.
“How much was there of you in him?”

“I was honest in my blog videos.
And I was lonely, so talking to the camera gave me some connection with people,
even if it was very one-sided. I would imagine I was talking to my porn model
crushes, and jerk off pretending they were watching me. I mean … I don’t hate
sex. I’d just rather take a dildo than Gary’s cum. Gary’s presence pulled me
back into a reality I hated.” He watched Grim’s hand in the darkness and traced
his knuckles with his thumb. “So whatever you saw with Gary wasn’t real. It was
just for show.”

Grim squeezed his arms around
Misha hard enough to put him out of breath. “Fuck … but the toy videos? Those
were real?”

“It’s kind of … Gary told me to
do them, but I could be alone in the room, and I’ve always had bottoming
fantasies, so I grew to really like it. What I didn’t like is that I was
exploited for money.” Misha gritted his teeth but only curled deeper into the
heat of Grim’s embrace.

“Sorry,” whispered Grim, kissing
Misha’s neck again. “That’s the porn industry for you. They’re weird like
that.”

Misha wasn’t sure if it was
appropriate to ask, but it was only fair since Grim knew so much about him.
“Your dick—I mean … it’s really big. Like big-dick-porn big. Did you ever do
any porn?”

Grim exhaled and let out a soft
chuckle. “Yes.”

“Gay porn?”

“Obviously.”

Misha pulled Grim’s hand up to
his lips and kissed his thumb. “Did you not like it?”

“Why, you want to see some?”
asked Grim, exhaling behind Misha.

“No,” he quickly said but then
squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like an idiot. “I mean, yes. Maybe. It would
only be fair, huh?” Misha laughed nervously. “Just that you said the industry
is weird, so I was wondering if it was bad-weird, or just weird-weird.” He took
a deep breath, realizing that Grim was getting hard. Only thin pajama shorts were
between Misha’s ass and that beast in Grim’s pants.

Grim moved his nose over Misha’s
nape. “I only did two scenes. I was out of jail, had no money, no family to
lean on, and I really wanted to fuck. Porn seemed like a way out of all my
problems, but I hated it. The guys I was working with were obsessed with my
size. One of them ... that was literally the only thing he could talk to me
about.”

“I can imagine it garnering
attention. But you’re not really hiding it either. Showing off in those tight
pants.” Misha elbowed him gently, and his heart fluttered. Was this what lying
in bed with a real boyfriend was like?

Grim was silent for several
seconds, and Misha was already fretting he’d said something wrong when Grim
spoke again. “People should know what they’re getting into. Everyone’s talking
about how they love big dicks, but when push comes to shove, they backtrack.
They first tell me some crap about wanting to know how it feels, then they
change their mind and want to just suck me off. Then, they can’t fit it in, or
they decide that’s not for them either. Keeping it secret is fucking
pointless.”

Misha kissed Grim’s hand again. Would
he
be able to take a dick like Grim’s? Even thinking about it had Misha hot
and bothered. He had used some big toys himself, but nothing
that
large.
“I never thought about it that way, but it’s kind of true, I suppose. Like, you
don’t want to only find out in bed that the guy you’re about to fuck was
wearing prosthetics all along and actually has no legs.”

Grim laughed. “That would be like
unwrapping a present.”

“For you. Most guys would feel
deceived. And they’d freak out that they don’t want to fuck a cripple.”
Misha
squeezed his hand harder around Grim’s.

“I honestly think most guys
wouldn’t care. It’s all about confidence. They wouldn’t be afraid of stumps the
way they’re afraid of my size. I’m too old to take this kind of shit.”

Misha shuddered, and shame curled
around his neck again. “I only had confidence in front of the camera. I’m a
coward around people. I went through a park when I left the hotel, and I
couldn’t deal with all those strangers around.”

“You’ll get there,” said Grim,
petting Misha while his cock grew against Misha’s ass. It was hard to ignore
its presence.

“Um … Am I affecting you too
much? Do you want that pillow wall after all?” Misha muttered when his own body
began responding in ways he’d rather hide from Grim, because they would lead to
things Misha would later regret.

Grim growled and spooned even
tighter against Misha. “It’s because you’re so fucking perfect.”

Gary never told Misha anything
like that. He’d say that his ass looked fuckable or that he wanted to come down
his throat. “You ... you smell nice.” Misha was treading a dangerously thin
line, but what he should and shouldn’t do with Grim was getting blurred all too
fast.

Grim gave Misha’s neck an
open-mouthed kiss and gently ground his cock against Misha’s ass. “You know,
when I’m with able-bodied guys, I get hard, but it’s not enough sometimes. I
have no idea if it’s the size of my cock or just ... the way they look, but I
sometimes need to pop the blue pills if I want to have sex with them. But with
you ... you make my cock turn into a rock, birdie.”

Misha swallowed, and there was no
denying it anymore. He was getting hard as well, and once that started
happening, rational thinking became much harder. After all, Grim wasn’t someone
who paid Gary for spending time in Misha’s room. Misha could deny Grim, and
most probably, after two or three times of repeating “no,” Grim would back off
even though he was so much stronger and didn’t really need Misha’s permission
to take what he wanted. Hurt him, or fuck him. And it had been Misha who asked
Grim to come into his bed in the first place.

“I can feel that,” he said
breathlessly, letting his fingers trail down, over Grim’s wrist, and to a
forearm that felt sturdy to the touch, as if it could hold all the evil of the
world away from Misha.

Grim exhaled and spread his hand
over Misha’s chest. His nose nudged the back of Misha’s throat, and then his
tongue spread liquid heat from Misha’s shoulder up to the top of his ear. The
touch was tender, incredibly arousing, and didn’t even have an element of
sleaze behind it. Lust? Bucketfuls.

“I bet you want to see those two
tapes I made.”

BOOK: His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8)
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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