His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (2 page)

BOOK: His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8)
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“Yes,” said Grim. “I’m sorry I
scared you, but you were the last person I expected to find.”

Misha looked toward the black granite
and steel of the modern kitchen, and Gary’s absence was putting him further on
edge by the second. Gary was the only person standing between Misha, and …
those
other
people.

“Who were you looking for?”

Grim was silent for a few moments
as he approached the door, which was strangely crooked and covered with soot.
“The wolves who run this place.”

Misha was about to say he didn’t
know where they were exactly, but when Grim reached the door, Misha swiped his
gaze over the room one last time and spotted a familiar shape behind the black
leather sofa where Gary had fucked him just last week.

Gary’s fingers were twitching on
the floor, and Misha screamed out in horror as his eyes met the bloodied face.
This couldn’t be happening. Grim sure as fuck was no policeman, so he was here
to take all the
assets
. Misha pushed his hand into Grim’s face and
kicked his stomach with the stump, trying to get out of the steel grip. His
brain was in a frenzy.

“Gary! Please, don’t let them
take me! You promised! You promised I would only be yours!”

Grim tried to keep him still, but
as Misha continued to struggle, the floor finally got closer. Grim released
him, and Gary’s body lying on the smooth floor became the sole focus of Misha’s
existence. On his hands and knees, he moved forward, hardly even remembering to
avoid the glass scattered all over the living room.

Grim’s voice came like out of a
different dimension. “He’s dead. Don’t bother.”

“No!” Misha whined, but once he
got up close to the gunshot wounds, the blood, and the smell of piss, he didn’t
have any hope left. Even the twitching he earlier noticed might have been an
illusion he clung to, because Gary’s still-warm body was motionless. His eyes
were wide, blood no longer trickling from a hole in the middle of his forehead,
his mouth was open, and his tongue lay slack in the corner of his mouth. Misha
had lost his lifeline.

He shuddered, staring at the red
stains gluing Gary’s favorite
Star Wars
T-shirt to his chest. Misha’s
brain refused to come up with answers. With Grim approaching, Misha took a deep
breath and leaned over Gary in a desperate attempt to buy himself some time.
The smell of urine and sweat was hard to stand, but on a hunch, Misha discreetly
dipped his hand into the front pocket of Gary’s pants. The cool steel of the
flashdrive Gary never parted with was a shock to Misha’s system, but he quickly
fished it out, hugging the dead body. No matter how detestable Gary was as a
human being, he did protect Misha from further harm. Maybe he would continue to
do so thanks to any intel about the nameless organization that owned Misha’s
life. Still, looking into Gary’s glazed-over eyes meant the end of an era.

Misha wouldn’t miss Gary’s cock
forcefully entering his throat or Gary’s hands wandering all over his stumps as
they watched movies, but he already missed the safety this place provided,
because he knew what the alternative was. The presence behind him was
impossible to ignore.

“He was a bad man. You will be
safe with me,” said Grim.

Misha clenched his fingers on
Gary’s T-shirt. The only place he’d ever be safe was at the bottom of the
ocean, wearing concrete shoes. “He had friends … maybe we could find them,
maybe they could—” Misha’s breath became too erratic for him to speak. He was
sure he was in the US, since most people who visited, now including Grim, had
American accents, but other than that? He had nothing. No papers. No money. No possessions.
And no fucking legs.

Grim pulled on Misha’s shoulder.
“Have you ever piggybacked? I need to get you out of here quick.”

Misha swallowed, now wondering if
piggybacking was only an excuse for Grim to feel Misha’s cock on his back, but
a deafening rattle of gunshots pushed him into action. He looked up at Grim and
nodded, reluctantly outstretching his arms to his new captor.

 

Chapter 2 - Grim

 

Grim’s head was a colorful,
pulsing mess as he carried his prize through the empty corridors. Andrey was
heavier than he looked, but maybe his muscles added so much weight to his body,
as his frame wasn’t too large. Grim couldn’t help but tune in to the warm touch
of the sweet bird’s thighs, the heat where Andrey’s crotch lay against Grim’s
back, the chest pressed against him, and the arms around his neck. It was fate
Grim had found this beautiful broken bird out here—during a recovery mission at
that. Someone must have kidnapped Andrey from his home in Russia, so no wonder
he was so scared and confused. But now that Grim had freed him, the worst was
over. Grim could give Andrey’s life a whole new quality. If Grim didn’t have to
watch where he was going, he’d turn his head to kiss the slim fingers on his
shoulders. They were so pale and fine, like the stumps that were so obscenely
exposed where they dug against Grim’s hips.

Another round from a machine gun
not that far away had Grim alert and focused on Andrey’s safety only. As far as
he was concerned, his part in the mission was over, and he would not be staying
with the Louisiana Coffin Nails chapter to find out what had happened to
everyone else. He now had different priorities.

He wanted to say something
soothing, as Andrey went quiet, but the sound of a helicopter above them made
talking impossible. Grim had to to keep his shit together. He needed to leave
unnoticed before anyone saw Andrey with him. Police would ask too many questions
and so would Ripper, the Louisiana chapter president. The shooting was dying
down slowly, and that meant the Coffin Nails MC must have overpowered the
guards and taken hold of enemy territory, just like they had planned.

As a Nomad, Grim was frequently
called over to participate in large-scale operations of the motorcycle club,
but this time it was more personal than he could have imagined. He came here to
help the local chapter deal with a gang of human traffickers who had taken one
of their female hangarounds. The gang had been kidnapping kids and selling them
to some sick fucks to torture, but Andrey seemed fine, if a bit scared. Grim had
saved him in time.

Touching that pretty bird was
like having his cock jerked off by this creature straight out of Grim’s
fantasies. He’d been a subscriber of the website where Andrey published his
videos and blogged for such a long time, and now, the lovely stumps he
fantasized about were close enough to reach, briefly touching Grim’s thighs as
he rushed through the woods to avoid confrontation with his biker brothers, who
might mistake him for a foe in the dark.

“Where are we going?” Andrey
asked in that melodic Russian accent, and all Grim could think of was how many
times he’d seen those pretty lips suck cock or lick up a dildo. Having had so
much practice, how would Andrey take Grim’s? Would he be gentle and slow in his
sucking or greedy to take in as much as he could? Or maybe he’d want to be
passive, like in many of the videos? Grim scowled. He doubted Andrey could
comfortably deepthroat his cock. Most men didn’t even try to challenge the
beast in his pants.

“Somewhere safe. Don’t worry, I
won’t let anyone near you,” he promised, rushing between the trees as quickly
as he could with the soft ground halting his efforts with every step.

His whole body throbbed with
excitement when Andrey tightened his grip around Grim’s neck. “I trust you,” he
said so close to Grim’s ear that his mouth almost touched it.

Grim chewed on his lip and sighed
in pleasure, gently squeezing Andrey’s smooth thighs. “Don’t you worry, birdie,
we’re close,” he said and started running with renewed effort. Soon enough,
there was a clearing in the woods, and Grim smiled when he ran out into a
parking lot housing numerous trucks and some of the bikes belonging to the MC members
storming the torture hub. He was proud to show off his bike already. It was a
true beauty, styled to look somewhat like a ride from the 1940s, shiny in black
and chrome.

But the moment he thought that,
he stopped halfway to where he had left it upon arrival. He couldn’t take
Andrey on the bike. He didn’t have a sidecar, and Andrey wouldn’t be able to
hold on properly. No, that would not work at all.

“What state are we in?” Andrey
adjusted himself on Grim’s back, and his gorgeous thighs moved against Grim’s
hands. His presence was such utter sensory overload Grim was losing his usual
razor-sharp focus.

He turned around and pressed his
lips against Andrey’s forearm, and for a brief moment when their eyes locked,
the chemistry was off the charts. Grim needed to look away to compose himself.
“Louisiana,” he said and, struck by an idea, ran for a row of mid-sized trucks.
He could easily fit his bike in the covered bed of one of those.

“Why did you kill Gary?” came the
next question. As shaken as Andrey seemed, he didn’t shed any tears for his
supposed boyfriend, and his questions were to the point. Maybe he wouldn’t miss
the psycho and could soon be all Grim’s? In a place such as this, that Gary guy
must have been like a lifeline to Andrey, but the fact was that the bastard had
lied to Andrey and taken him here without even telling him where they were.

“Told you. He was a bad guy. He
shot at me, and I needed to defend myself,” he said and opened the passenger’s
door. Score. The keys were in the ignition. The cab smelled of those damn air
fresheners, but it would have to do.

Grim turned around so Andrey
could climb into the seat, and when he looked into Andrey’s face, he received
the most heart-melting hint of a smile. “It’s good to have you on my side,”
Andrey said and pushed some of the long strands that had escaped his bun behind
his ear.

Grim’s senses screamed in
anticipation. He grabbed the door, steadying himself as he looked into that
serenely handsome face. He leaned in, watching Andrey’s big brown eyes that
spoke of innocence and relief. His pulse thudded even in his throat. A prize.
He deserved something for getting the bird out of here.

Andrey reached out to the side of
Grim’s face, stroked his cheek with his thumb through the leather of his mask,
and left a gentle kiss on Grim’s lips. Grim wanted nothing more than to tear the
mask off his face and continue, but that had to wait. They weren’t safe yet.
Stray guards could attack them, and with the gunfire now over, Grim’s biker
brothers could be heading this way. They would insist on questioning him or
worse yet, leaving him to be questioned by the police, like all the other
victims of the group they had attacked this night. Grim couldn’t have that.

He put his hand on Andrey’s knee,
but even through the glove, he could sense just how near the stump was. He
refrained from touching it, just because he feared he wouldn’t be able to stop
himself from going further. “I’ll be right back,” he said and closed the door
before breaking into a run to find his bike.

As soon as he reached his
motorcycle, he started looking around to find some kind of plank that would
help him roll his ride onto the back of the truck. His brain was frantically
weighing the options of where he could take Andrey. Taking him to bed wasn’t a
good enough plan. He didn’t want the other Coffin Nails knowing where he was,
in case one of them came looking for him and discovered the unregistered bounty.
This was a delicate matter, and Grim couldn’t have anyone scaring Andrey. The
bird seemed so fragile and confused, in need of a fresh start.

Grim was in luck. There were
loading ramps propped underneath an awning nearby, and he grabbed one, dragging
it over the grass as he rushed to the truck where both Andrey and the bike were
already waiting for him. He was about to start pushing the bike into the bed of
the truck when he heard a low thud and a pained groan from the other side of
the vehicle. Blood froze in his veins, and he rushed toward the sound, to the
passenger’s side of the cab.

“Andrey?”

Andrey was on the ground, his
smooth stumps sliding against the damp dirt. As much as Grim wanted to help,
his eyes inevitably registered the way Andrey moved. He looked so cute crawling
in the sparse grass, so in need of Grim’s strong arms to help him out.

For a moment, Andrey stared back
at Grim. “I lost balance,” he said in the end. “I’m sorry.”

Grim ran up to him and quickly
picked him up, pushing his fingers over the wet skin of Andrey’s legs. “You
need to be more careful. You can’t balance as easily as me,” he said and placed
Andrey back in the seat. The seatbelt came next, but with the cab being so high
up, not to tempt fate, Grim had to climb inside and lean over Andrey’s lap to
fasten it for him. His hand moved along the part of the belt that held down
Andrey’s hips, and when his fingers skimmed over the sweet bird’s crotch,
lustful sparks made Grim pull away. Safety first.

“Be careful,” he told Andrey
before shutting the door again. There was rope in the back, so he managed to
secure his bike before quickly climbing into the driver’s seat minutes later.
He flashed Andrey a wide smile and started the truck. Even the tank was full.
The biker gods were riding in his favor tonight.

Andrey clutched the seatbelt,
looking at the darkness between the trees. “Is this your truck?”

Grim had to stop staring at him,
or he’d crash, but it was no easy feat. Andrey even smelled like something
Grim’s inner predator wanted to munch on all night. Not only did Andrey have
the face of an angel, big brown eyes, and full lips, but also brown freckles
over the bridge of his nose, dotting his pale, otherwise flawless face. His
arms were lean but muscled, probably from moving around in a wheelchair. Leg
amputations were a favorite of Grim’s, and Andrey had not one, but both legs
missing below the knee. Those were all reasons why he was obsessed enough with
Andrey to send him fan mail, even though throughout the years he only got a
single reply. Grim had imagined himself licking the smooth scar tissue so many
times, and now that the dream was about to come true, a giddy feeling spread
throughout his chest.

Andrey was so helpless, so
fragile, so beautifully broken, and Grim was there to take care of everything
for him. Andrey would fall for him in a heartbeat and become Grim’s only. Even
now, Grim could recall Andrey’s orgasm face, all flushed, his lips parted as he
moaned and asked to be fucked harder on camera.

“Grim?” Andrey raised his
eyebrows.

Grim shuddered and nodded as he
drove the truck farther down an asphalt road leading into the woods. “Yeah,
we’re going. I just can’t believe you’re sitting here, next to me,” he said,
slightly embarrassed to sound like a lovesick puppy. It was him men were
usually falling for, ready to take him in their hungry mouths. Then again, one
had to put himself out there if they wanted an outcome. And with the raid done,
Grim only had so much time to get Andrey out of here, so he switched on the
high-beam lights and sped up, rushing for the gates he knew were beyond a long
patch of trees.

“I …” Andrey glanced at him
warily. “I can’t believe I’m out of there. Even if I was saved by a man in a
skull mask, who calls himself Grim.”

Grim hummed and briefly put his
hand on Andrey’s thigh. “It’s because of the mask,” he lied. It was the other
way around. He chose the mask to represent the name his club brothers started
using for him. He was the Grim Reaper the Coffin Nails MC had on call.

The dark shapes of the trees came
and disappeared in the ghostly white light, but with the size of the vehicle,
Grim needed to be extra cautious for any obstructions on the road, because he
wouldn’t be able to avoid them as he would on a bike. He spotted a crooked
shape ahead and swiftly stepped on the brake, slowing down just enough to
easily avoid hitting a car that had fallen on its roof. There was a body
halfway out of it, and he scowled.

“Maybe it would be better if you
closed your eyes for now? Some people don’t know when to give up and
surrender,” Grim muttered, not wanting to inconvenience his helpless, broken
bird with things that could be too much of a strain on his mind.

But Andrey kept his eyes open,
and his face became an expressionless mask. “They deserve it.”

Grim was so surprised to hear
something like that come out of those sweet lips that he looked over at him
briefly as he maneuvered the truck around the fallen vehicle, sliding off the
asphalt with one side. There were more of them closer to the gate, and Grim
cursed beneath his breath as he saw two men in Coffin Nails MC cuts rush into
the road with machine guns. “Hide, quick,” he said and leaned forward so his
mask could emerge out of the shadows of the cab.

He didn’t need to repeat himself.
Andrey unbuckled his belt and slid down to the floor in front of the seat.
“Don’t let them take me, please,” he whispered and hid his head under his arms,
his voice getting a higher pitch.

“I won’t,” mumbled Grim before
waving at the two men, who must have recognized him, as they lowered their
weapons. They waved back, and just like that, he was on his way. Air slowly
left his lungs when seconds later he passed the gate that had been ripped out
of its hinges during the first phase of the raid. He pushed his fingers
underneath the mask to let in some air. He was done here.

It took a full minute before
Andrey looked up at him with those big eyes and trembling lips that Grim
couldn’t wait to have around his cock. Grim’s brothers had no idea that he’d
smuggled out the most precious thing in that compound.

BOOK: His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8)
8.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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