A chill raced down Grayson’s spine. He didn’t want any trouble. He hurried toward his truck but when he got within eye distance, he froze. Etched into the side in big bold letters was the word ‘murderer.’ The paint looked as though it had been chiseled with a knife or screwdriver. Circling the truck, he saw that it had been damaged on every side. When he got to the far end, he saw the culprit crouched down.
“What the fuck?”
The guy stood up and swung at Grayson before he could react. Several punches landed on his face, stunning him and then the guy took off. He wasn’t worth following. The warmth of blood trickled down his face from his temple. Without a doubt, he knew he was going to have a black eye from this.
Tired, Gray got into his truck to go home. He’d managed to move out of his father’s place and rent a little farmhouse outside of town. The truth was, he was lonely. Really lonely. He was ready to go home, soak his shoulder in a hot tub, and sleep for the next ten hours before he got up and did it all over again.
He headed down Main Street and out of town. He wasn’t long on Maple before lights came on behind him. Gray tightened his hands on the wheel as his heart started to race. He was frightened of law enforcement, despite having a stepfather in charge of the border.
Up ahead, Gray saw an abandoned mining road, he pulled off up there and shut off the truck. As he glanced in the rearview mirror, he saw the border agent staring at him. A shiver raced down his spine. He hoped to God nothing came of this stop. He didn’t need the headache now.
As the law enforcement officer got out of his SUV, Gray had the ridiculous urge to put the car in drive and flee. He bit his lip as he tried to suppress the impulse. His heart hammered. He had no reason to be afraid of going back to jail, but deep down he was. He didn’t want his life taken away from him again.
Gray took a deep breath. He was out of prison. He was safe again. His conviction was overturned with new DNA evidence that proved he wasn’t the killer. He was innocent. As it was, his lawyer was working on a financial settlement. It still bugged him that they didn’t have the killer yet. They may never find the person responsible. As far as things were concerned for him, the case was settled. He just had to get back to the life he deserved—if everyone around him would let him do that.
The border agent stepped up to his open window.
All of Gray’s breath left him in a quiet whoosh of need as he looked up into the officer’s beautiful face. He was the type of guy who was probably married with half a dozen kids running barefoot at home. He was too beautiful to be an LEO. In fact, this border agent made him suddenly feel inadequate. Gray could only imagine being this good-looking.
Half his face was shadowed within the moonlight. What Grayson could see was that he had midnight dark hair, steel blue eyes, and a five o’clock shadow that covered a strong jaw. As Gray’s eyes fell on his full soft lips, he unconsciously licked and bit his lower lip as he thought about tasting them. What was wrong with him?
The agent’s eyes narrowed dangerously on him as he flipped on his flashlight, shifting it over his face briefly before stepping back to survey the damage on the side of his truck. “You headed for the border?”
“No, just home.”
“Mind stepping out of your car?”
“Is there a problem?”
With his heart racing, Grayson stepped out. Nervous energy hummed beneath his skin. Worry had him wanting to follow this agent’s every order.
“There’s only one house down this road and it’s abandoned.”
“I just started renting it.”
Disbelief moved through the agent’s eyes as he smoothed his hand up his elbow, leading him to the hood of his SUV. Grayson became immediately aware of how big and muscular this agent was. He had at least four inches of height on him.
“Hands on the hood.”
Grayson closed his eyes and leaned forward, placing his palms on the hood. This wasn’t the first time he went through this routine. Strong, rough hands moved over his chest, legs, pockets, balls, and cock. Gray had to inwardly stifle a moan of pleasure as that hand adjusted his half-filled cock.
That small pressure was enough to fill him with an aching heat he was so desperate to feel. Those hands moved over his ass and to Gray’s mortification he instinctively arched it out for him to get a better feel. Those hands didn’t hesitate as they checked every pocket of his dirty jeans.
“Where you coming from?”
“Work at the arena.”
“Are you a bull rider, cowboy?”
“No. I work in the trench.”
Grayson’s wallet was taken from his back pocket and dropped on the hood. His pockets were turned out, too. Heat moved through Gray’s checks as he saw the agent go through his wallet, checking his brand-new driver’s license. The new license had his father’s address on it, which didn’t go unnoticed by the officer.
“This street is on the other side of town.”
“It’s my stepfather’s place.”
“Have you been drinking?”
Something in the agent’s eyes flicked before he shut it off. What had Grayson said to get that look?
Temptation had Gray lifting his binoculars up again to watch Zeke play. After a while, sweat started to gathering on his shirt. A groan of desire escaped Gray’s parted mouth when he saw Zeke reach his hand over his head—pulling his shirt off in one swift move—and tossed it to the side of the court.
Hard muscles rippled down his chest, bunching and gathering as he moved. The game went on for another ten minutes before the guys finished up. Zeke went to grab his shirt, slipping it back over his head. As he went toward his car, he leaned on the hood, chatting with one of the firemen. Gray was desperate to know what they were talking about.
As his dick wept with pent up frustration, Gray realized he was going to have to take care of things before he got a really bad case of blue balls. Unable to take his eyes off the man he wanted, Gray unzipped his fly and popped the button on his jeans, jerking down his boxers. His cock flexed out, hitting against his palm and abdomen as he tried to take control of his prick.
Desperation had him stroking his dry cock up and down. Needing lube, he let go of his cock long enough to do a desperate search for the bottle. He found some in a kitchen drawer. He grabbed the bottle and squirted some on his palm. He lifted the binoculars again as his hand stroked his cock. He gasped in surprise as he watched the man he so desperately wanted getting into his police-issued vehicle and leaving. “No. Don’t leave. Damn it.”
Frustration poured through Gray as he set aside his binoculars. Hungry for release, he stroked his cock, bracing his left hand on the counter as he did. He bit his lip, squeezing his cock tighter than he normally did, punishing himself for being so foolish for watching Zeke while he was out. He felt so foolish for getting caught drooling.
A moan of erotic pleasure rippled through his body when he thought about giving all of himself to a man he barely knew—a man who worked with a father who never gave up on him—a man who would most likely ruin him for all other men. He pumped his hips, flexing his cock in and out of his fist as he thought about Zeke taking control of him.
When he was in prison, he’d been tempted to hook up but he didn’t. His case was too high priority. He didn’t want anything to—fuck. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about stupid shit when he wanted to only fucking masturbate?
That was the problem—he didn’t want to be masturbating. He wanted to be taken by Zeke. He wanted the guy to take control of him. He could be a good bottom if given the chance. He wanted that chance. The sound of the doorbell caught him off guard. There was no way he was going to answer it now—no way.
To his relief, the door didn’t ring a second time. He just wanted the person to go away. “Mmmm.”
The sound of a deep voice moaning in his ear and strong arms coming around him made him fucking melt. Without even opening his eyes, he knew it was Zeke.
“What do you think you’re doing watching me?”
A strong hand clamped over his, making it impossible to stroke his throbbing dick.
“I didn’t give you permission to stroke your cock.”
That hand tightened even more, making a shot of pre-cum skip from the swollen tip of his cockhead.
“Careful now. You’re dancing on a hard line that I don’t think you want to cross.”
God, but he wanted to. He wanted to feel this man taking complete control. He tilted his head, offering his neck as those hot, soft lips skimmed their way down, licking and kissing. Zeke’s hands were hot from his workout. His entire body flexed as though they were still humming from work.
“What if I do?” Gray asked.
“You don’t want me to answer that now.”
“Take control of me then, Sir.”
A strong hand came up the front of his neck, collaring him with his palm. With his fist trapped, Zeke started to move his hand up and down, controlling his palm as he stroked. He arched his ass out, loving the feel of Zeke’s prick pressing between his ass cheeks. He just wished there wasn’t anything between them.
As though he sensed what he wanted, Gray heard the sound of Zeke’s zipper flying south. Heat raced across his rim as Zeke’s hot dick pressed against Gray’s ass. It was more than he could handle. “Oh, fuck.”
A low chuckle sounded deep from Zeke’s throat as he blew his wad across the kitchen counter. Just when he thought it couldn’t go any further, his eyes went wide as the heat of Zeke’s cockhead pressed against his rim, firing off a shot of cum, using it as lube to push in the tip. His entire body shivered as Zeke came hard using that spunk to lube his ass, pushing inside.