“I’m a territorial mother fucker, Dirk.”
“I noticed,” I say. Must be where Dash gets it from. Dash is a little territorial with me. Not like he is with Stace, but it’s clear that he’s got a stamp of ownership on me, too. I’m fine with being claimed as Nolan territory.
He shakes his head as his fingers toy with my hole. “The way I express my territorialism is physical. I’m gonna need to claim you over and over, own you in all kinds of ways. I’m gonna have to get creative during the season. Think you can handle that?”
Trav pries my ass open. It’s still sloppy with his cum. He slides his dick inside but doesn’t move, just like the last time we fucked, letting me be his human cock warmer.
Sigh.That’s fucking better. I wanna stay filled with him like this.
“Honestly, Trav? I fucking crave that. I wanna feel your ownership no matter where I am.”
“Then we’re on the same page.” He frowns.
“Don’t like that frown, Trav. On the same page is good.”
“It is, but there’s one more thing you need to know about me. I don’t really want to tell you,” he admits.
“Does it happen to be about the trip you take up north every summer?”
His brows meet in the middle. “Perceptive fucker.”
I laugh. “No, just a jealous one. Things between us were fragile, and you told Dash you were going up for ‘dad’ time. I was so pissed at you until you got back and, um, it was kind of obvious who you meant when you said your person wasn’t on the road. For that to be true, you lied to Dash so he wouldn’t wanna go with you. For you to lie to Dash, it had to be fucking important. Still haven’t parsed together what it is, though.”
He pushes the hair off my face. It’s long again. Didn’t take much to grow it to a respectable hockey hair length. It’s not as long or as shaggy as the rest of my friends, but it’s long enough for Trav to control me like a marionette. “The visit is mandatory.”
“As in they make you go?”
He nods. “They’re not just my buddies, they’re crew. A brotherhood. They can’t let me go, or they’d have to kill me, kind of thing. But so long as I satisfy their few demands, all is well. I haven’t had any problems.”
“When you say crew…?”
“They’re active criminals, Dirk. Not the most hardcore criminals out there, but criminals nonetheless.”
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Does that change things, pretty boy?” I try to look away, but he maneuvers me by the chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“Not for me. I’m done for, Trav—in the best way. But this makes the Hunter thing even worse. I told him your biker gang was like those older guy bike clubs who joyride up the Coquihalla together. He didn’t even like that.”
“A bike club that joyrides? Dirk, you know I’ve been to prison,” he says, his voice darkening to the exact octave I’d expect from a man who’s been to prison.
“What was I supposed to tell him? So, hey, Hunt. Know that older guy you said no to because he’s twenty years older? He was also in a super shady biker gang—one he’s still technically a member of. Promise he doesn’t do crime.”
I let my forehead rest on Trav’s sweaty chest. There’s hair there, and I love the man smell coming off him. Silence wars on for several heartbeats.
“I’m not proud of my past, but I can’t change it.”
I’d like to say Hunter knows that and can see beyond a person’s past, but I’m not sure he’s over his own. Even if he was, different rules would apply to me. They always do.
“If by some miracle he accepts the age gap, we’re gonna go with my story—old man joyriding club.”
Trav wrinkles his nose. “I was a badass, you know.”
“Still are, baby, but not as far as my brother’s concerned.”
“I suppose I can pretend I’m an old man for you.” He winks, his hand returning to toy with my balls as if they’re his personal fidget spinner. His lips press into the sensitive areas of my neck.
My arousal spikes, and I’m panting into his ear. “Am I just a toy to you?”
