[Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Erotic Romance, Alternative Paranormal, Shape-shifters, MM, HEA]
When Evan was approached by a sexy biker, he knew he was in trouble. Jax is a bad boy and Evan feels as if he's gotten in over his head—especially when his sister warns him to stay away from the biker. Evan tries, but is drawn to Jax in ways he doesn’t fully understand.
Jaxxon Remus is the eldest of six. He owns his own business and shoots from the hip. When he discovers who his mate is, Jax lays it on thick, scaring the human away. But Jax is determined and doesn’t give up, even if he has to stalk his mate in order to claim him.
When Evan is attacked, Jax goes on the warpath. Worse, a murder has taken place and someone has pinned the crime on Jax. A price is put on Jax’s head, and it’s up to him and his brothers to figure things out before somebody collects.
Wyatt never believed in the whole mating thing, never believed he could be happy with one man for the rest of his life. Then Brone stumbles into his life. The alpha wolf is strong, dominant, and pisses Wyatt off at every turn until Wyatt learns that Brone is running from trouble. Their sudden closeness brings about unexpected desire, but Brone makes it very clear that he neither wants, nor needs, a mate. Wyatt is fine with that, or so he thinks.
Captured and tortured by a powerful demon, Brone finally escapes and sets out to find his brother to keep the omega safe from the deranged demon, who has threatened to go after Demarco next. But Brone never thought he’d find his mate in the midst of all his troubles. He and Wyatt go blow for blow when first meeting, their relationship prickly. But when Wyatt shows Brone a troubled past doesn’t decrease a man’s value, both men discover that being mated might not be such a bad thing.
Lynn Hagen is a Siren-exclusive author.
He turned back around at the sound of loud motorcycles. God, that sound. Evan loved it. He’d ridden on the back of bikes a handful of times growing up, but it had always been an uncle or cousin who had given him a ride. For once, he’d love the driver to be a bad boy who wasn’t related.
In your dreams.
The motorcycles came roaring down the street, and Evan was in instant lust. The men wore bandanas around the lower part of their faces—some were solid colors, but the leader’s bandana had a skeletal jaw on his. It looked so bad ass.
There were six men in all, and each one of them looked as if they lived in a gym. Their bodies were ripped from what he could see under their jackets. They also had thick thighs, and beefy hands gripping the handlebars—if that was what it was called. Evan knew nothing about motorcycles, only that he was dying to ride on the back of one.
They passed him by, their motorcycles in various colors and designs, but each one looked as though the paint job was custom.
He sighed heavily as he watched, forgetting about the loud cars across the street, the bright sun making him sweat, and the weirdoes in the Laundromat behind him. Evan had eyes only for the six bikers who rolled down the street as if they owned the neighborhood.
Evan’s heart began to beat faster when the guy in front made a U-turn in the street. Why was he turning around? Probably to stop at the store. Too bad he wasn’t turning around for Evan.
“You better get into the bunker!” the lady in the feathery hat yelled. “Those bears’ll eat you alive, pick your bones from their teeth!” She cackled as she stared at the sidewalk. “I fucked your father. He was a pimp!”
Dear god. Evan shook his head.
“Run, boy. Run! They’re coming for you. You can’t escape the flying monkeys!”
The woman wandered away. Evan watched her for a few seconds, truly feeling sorry for the lady in the feathery hat. His thoughts scrambled when a motorcycle pulled to the curb in front of him. Evan’s eyes widened. It was the leader with the skull mask over the lower half of his face. He had amazing blue eyes that reminded Evan of the tropical ocean, stark against the dark lashes and hair.
Up ahead, the other motorcycles had pulled over. The men sat there talking to each other as their leader sat there quietly looking at Evan.
What was he supposed to say? “Why are you staring at me?” But he didn’t say that. Evan’s voice was gone. When he opened his mouth, all that came out was a strangled squeak. Sure, men had approached him before, but none as good looking as the stranger sitting astride his bike.
The guy lowered the skull bandana to reveal the sexiest grin Evan had ever seen. He raked his eyes over Evan from head to toe, pure liquid heat radiating in them. “What’s your name, sunshine?”
“Pimp.” Evan. Was. Mortified. The warning of the lady in the feathery hat had zipped through his mind, and he’d…oh crap. Whatever chance in hell Evan had had with the guy had just gone down into the bunker with the feathery hat.
The man grinned. “Really?”
“No.” Evan shook his head.
“Then what is it?” The guy leaned back while biting on his lower lip. His gaze was zeroed in on Evan’s butt. Damn, the man was bold. He had no qualms about letting Evan know exactly what was on his mind.
He was also even larger up close. And tall. Evan couldn’t really guess the guy’s height since the man was seated, but he looked huge. Muscular as well. He was the total package, and all Evan could do was stare at the man like a complete boob.
“E-Evan.” Evan shoved his hands into his back pockets and forced himself not to glance at the stranger’s groin. “Yours?”
“He’s my love child,” the lady in the feathery hat said when she wandered over to them.
“Hi, Mrs. Florence,” the stranger said with an arresting smile. He looked at her with sympathy in those blue depths.
“You know her?” Evan asked.
“Since she was a beautiful young woman.”
That was impossible. The lady in the feathery hat looked to be around seventy. The guy didn’t look over thirty.
The woman wandered away again.
“Jaxxon,” the guy said, “but you can call me Jax.” The man crooked his finger. Evan went as if being pulled by an invisible string. Jax leaned close, running a finger down Evan’s bare arm. Evan shivered at the contact. “I promise to give you a ride if you give me your number.”
Was the guy talking about his bike or sex?
Evan had never been more desperate for a pen in his life. He’d settle for a marker, an ink quill, a crayon, or even a chisel and a slab of stone to write on. “I don’t have anything to write with.”
“Got a phone?”
Duh. Evan pulled it from his back pocket. Jax eased it from Evan’s hand and began to type. The man didn’t lack confidence. That was for sure. Evan felt his entire body heat with a blush as he bit into his lower lip, watching as Jax typed.
“I put my number in your phone,” Jax said and then winked. Evan’s heart nearly beat out of his chest at the flirtation as Jax handed his phone back. “Call me later, sunshine.”
Jax pulled away and joined the other men. Evan sighed. What a hunk.
“Put your arms around my neck,” Jax commanded. With his back to Jax’s chest, Evan did as he was told. He stretched his arms upward and glanced down, watching Jax’s thick fingers stroke his aching cock, the head weeping with pre-cum.
“Trust that I’ll never do anything to hurt you, sunshine.”
With his other free hand, Jax worked Evan’s pants down to his thighs. The exposure made Evan feel naughty. They were in Jax’s office, but Evan could still hear the guys out in the shop, could hear the air tools zipping and the music playing.
Jax’s free hand ghosted over Evan’s stomach, making the muscles contract as he inhaled sharply. Jax’s hand was tanned, callused, and appeared large against Evan’s pale, flat belly. The contrast was such a turn-on.
Evan nearly whimpered when Jax let go of him, but his heart began to beat harder when the man pressed his hands between them and undid his jeans, releasing his own hardened cock. Evan scooted back some so he could feel Jax’s erection against his bared ass.
“You drive me crazy, sunshine.” Jax hissed as Evan teased him.
Evan wanted to get fucked so badly that he was ready to beg for it. Releasing Jax’s neck, Evan slid to his knees—which wasn’t easy considering his pants were around his thighs.
Evan glanced up at Jax, into those pretty, blue eyes, and saw just how much the man wanted him. Jax’s lips were parted, his eyes focused on Evan as Evan took the man’s cock into his mouth.
“Shit, sunshine.” Jax’s head fell back as his hands clamped onto Evan’s head. His fingers strangled Evan’s hair, tugging at the strands, as Evan licked and sucked, drawing out the pre-cum at the slit.
Jax’s thighs tensed as Evan took Jax's dick all the way down his throat. He gagged, pulled back, and then coughed. Evan had never been any good at giving blowjobs, but he was determined to get Jax off.
The musky and masculine scent invaded Evan’s lungs. The broad head filled his mouth as he used his tongue to lick at the silky skin. Jax hissed again, his fingers tightening in Evan’s hair.
Evan had never handled a cock this big before. He wrapped his hands around the base to detract inches and then attempted to take Jax back down his throat.
“Close,” Jax said between clenched teeth.
That single word spurred Evan on. He pumped his fist as he sucked at the head, excited to taste the man. Jax arched his back and gave a loud grunt before his cum splashed the back of Evan’s throat. He tried to drink it all down, but Evan pulled back, coughing and swallowing as Jax collapsed against the couch.
“Damn, sunshine.” Jax panted, wiped his arm over his brows, and then lifted Evan from his knees. “I’m supposed to be helping you calm down, not the other way around.”
“Complaining?” Evan asked as he wiggled his pants farther down his legs.
“Fuck no.” Jax wedged himself between Evan’s legs and returned the favor. Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head when the man swallowed him whole.
“Oh god!” Evan scratched at the back of the couch, bucked, and writhed beneath Jax. The man’s tongue was magic as Evan shot close to the edge and nearly tumbled over into the abyss.
Jax didn’t let up. He sucked, licked, and stroked Evan. Evan was close. God, he was close, and he wanted that release, needed it. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment as Jax pulled at Evan’s balls and used his throat muscles to massage Evan’s cock.
When Jax slid a finger into Evan’s ass, Evan shattered. He contorted on the couch as Jax drank down every last drop. Evan’s heart pounded heavily in his chest as he sagged like a wet noodle.
“No nap.” Jax grinned at him when Evan’s eyelids started to close.
“Just five more minutes,” Evan said as he turned over on the couch and closed his eyes again. His ass hung out there, exposed, but Evan didn’t care. All he wanted to do was sleep.
"Five more minutes," Jax mumbled before Evan felt a hand ghost over his bare backside. His eyes opened and then he turned over, staring up at Jax.
"What are you doing?"
"Having five more minutes with you, babe."
Evan was stunned to see that Jax's cock was hard again. They both had gotten one off, and the man wanted more.
Jax stripped and climbed onto the couch. He hovered over Evan, a look of pure lust in his blue eyes. "Thought I was finished with you?"
"Well, yeah." Evan didn’t move, didn’t breathe as Jax pulled his shoes, socks, and then shorts off. He lay there with nothing but his shirt on. "What if someone walks in?"
"Then they'll get an eyeful," Jax said. He got up, walking naked to the desk, and then pulled something out of the drawer.
"Get over here, babe." Jax nodded toward the desk. "Bend over for me."
The command had Evan's flaccid cock jerking as he got up and did as Jax ordered. He placed his hands on the desk, and stuck his ass out. "Is this what you want?"
When Jax smacked his ass, Evan jumped. Jax smiled. "Don’t deny you liked that."
In fact, Evan did. His mate had him stretched and was balls deep inside Evan in less than three minutes.
“You will die in this filthy place,” Azul sneered as he circled around the chair Brone was strapped to. Brone’s wrists and ankles were bound tight to the worn wood, and no matter how hard he tried to pull free, he was stuck there.
“You really should consider a breath mint before interrogating someone.” Knowing it was useless, Brone tugged at his wrists anyway. “Are you trying to question me or render me unconscious?”
“Wiseass.” The demon smirked, his dark eyes narrowed. The guy wasn’t that tall, and Brone wouldn’t have taken the man seriously, but the demon had a wicked talent that he’d already used on Brone for the past few hours—a talent that left Brone feeling baked from the insides and sweating like crazy. “Make all the humorous comments you want, but by the time I’m done with you, you’ll tell me where Sheridan is hiding.”
The demon wanted one of Brone’s pack members, and Brone wasn’t giving the guy up. He had no clue what Sheridan had done, but that didn’t matter. No alpha worth his salt handed over one of his guys to a crazy demon.
Over the past few hours, Azul had tried many methods to make Brone talk. Brone currently had a blade shoved into his left thigh, a deep cut down the side of his face—giving him a matching set since his left side was already scarred—and if the son of a bitch electrocuted him one more time, Brone just might melt into the chair.
Azul ran his fingers along Brone’s shoulder, the electrical current zapping from the demon’s hand making Brone’s teeth clench together. “Is it really worth the sacrifice?” Azul taunted. “Just tell me where Sheridan is and we can end all this.”
Like Brone believed that. Azul wouldn’t set him free. He was a demon, after all, and demons were deceptive sons of bitches. Brone had yet to meet a decent one.
Helping anyone outside his pack wasn’t in Brone’s nature. He’d learned long ago that good intentions bathed the road to hell with your blood. His father had taught him that by the back of his hand when Brone had tried to save his mother from endless beatings. Still, he wasn’t giving up Sheridan’s location. Truth be told, he didn’t even know where Sheridan was. His beta had taken off three days ago, telling Brone he was going to visit a friend in the demon realm. When Sheridan hadn’t answered his calls, Brone had gone looking for the wolf.
And he’d ended up being captured by Azul.
“Remove these straps and I’ll show you what kind of sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Brone said and then shouted when the electrical currents flowing from Azul’s fingers grew stronger. It felt as if his brain was being deep-fried. “Fuck!”
Azul gripped a handful of Brone’s hair and yanked his head back, the demon’s face a mask of rage. “No one defies me! By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg me for death.”
Knowing it was a suicidal thing to do, Brone spit in the demon’s face. “Do your worst.”
Why in the hell had Brone allowed his ego to get in his way? Why was he asking Azul to further torture him? Those electrical currents must’ve killed brain cells. But Brone hadn’t cowed when his father had done his worst, and he wasn’t about to show his fear in front of the demon.
Flexing his massive muscles, Brone braced himself for the torture he knew was coming.
And he’d been right to do so. Moving in front of Brone’s chair, Azul threw his arms out. Blazing blue lights arced between his hands before he directed the current at Brone.
Son of a bitch! Brone’s back arched away from the chair as his head fell back. A gurgling sound rumbled up his chest as the pain centered on the right side of his gut. It felt as if Azul was searing his skin from his body.
When the demon’s arms relaxed, Brone wished Azul would kill him. The pain threatened to make him pass out. Sweat covered his body as he struggled to breathe. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His insides sang with sharp stabs of electricity, and his side felt as if twenty hot pokers were branding him.
Azul backhanded Brone. “No passing out, dog. I’m just getting started.”
Brone ground his teeth as he tried to yank his arms free. Azul tsked. “Let’s see if you’re still filled with fight after this.”
The demon pressed the tips of his fingers against Brone’s temples, and the room fell away. Suddenly Brone stood in his childhood home. The sounds of his mother’s scream filled the air.
No! The memories were so real, so vivid that Brone would’ve sworn he was actually back home. He knew he wasn’t. His mother was dead. His father was in the underworld reliving his worst memories over and over again for all eternity. Yet, Brone smelled his mother’s fear and his father’s sweat. He felt the chill in the air, tasted his father’s tangible anger, and heard the creak of the screen door as it slapped against the frame from the wind.
His mother lay crumpled on the kitchen floor, her arm covering her head.
Brone backed away as his father shouted for his mate to shut her fucking mouth. Spinning on his heels, Brone raced for the front door, but instead of exiting the house, he spilled right back into the kitchen, as if the memory refused to let him escape its horrors.
His father stood over Brone’s mother, his shoulders hunched, his height towering, a belt gripped in his beefy hand. Brone’s stomach rolled as his rage consumed him. His breaths came out in short bursts as he tried to make the image disappear. He closed his eyes and opened them, only to realize he was still in the kitchen.
There was no escape.
Wyatt’s brain slid to the side of his skull as Brone skillfully used his tongue, sucking Wyatt’s cock until Wyatt could no longer think. His toes curled as his hips hiked upward. If Brone kept up his pace, Wyatt would be a pile of goo before anything really got started.
“This isn’t how I want to come.” Wyatt couldn’t believe he was making Brone stop. He had to be insane because he wanted the pleasure Brone gave him to go on forever. He nearly begged Brone to keep going when his mate pulled back.
“I won’t let you come.”
Wyatt didn’t see how Brone would accomplish that. He was already teetering dangerously close to the edge. When Brone inserted a single wet finger, Wyatt clenched his jaw to stave off his climax. “I’m about to blow my load,” he warned.
“No, you’re not.” Brone pinched the base of Wyatt’s cock as he worked his finger deep into Wyatt’s ass. “You’re gonna be a good little bear and hold your load.”
A burst of laughter vibrated in Wyatt’s chest. “Little bear? Hardly. You might be bigger than me, but I’m no slouch.” Wyatt hissed at the burn. “Lube. In the front pocket of my jeans.”
Brone arched a brow. “Thought you’d get lucky tonight?”
“More like hoping,” Wyatt confessed. “You’re not an easy man to figure out.”
Brone got up without disputing Wyatt’s claim. No, his mate was not the easiest man to figure out, but it didn’t take a genius to know that Brone was haunted by something. There was some kind of war going on inside Brone. Wyatt knew the signs. His father had battled alcoholism for many years, and Wyatt had witnessed the times when the need to drink tore Anthony Remus apart. Brone might not be battling booze, but he was fighting against something.
Brone came back to the bed with the small packet of lube in one hand. He settled back between Wyatt’s legs, lubed his fingers, and then shoved two deep into Wyatt’s ass before sucking Wyatt’s cock down his throat.
The mystery of why Brone was so closed off vanished as Wyatt thrashed on the bed. He spread his legs wide, bent his legs at the knees, and dug his feet in deep. Holy fuck! His body shook with hungry tremors as Wyatt fought not to come.
It was a losing battle. His hips shot upward as Brone inserted another finger, stretching Wyatt wide. He’d had ass play before, but that was always as far as he’d allowed things. Brone’s fingers were thick, and the calluses rubbed over his tight muscles to add friction to what Brone was already doing to him.
Just when Wyatt reached the edge, Brone pulled back. His fingers slipped free as he released Wyatt’s cock from his mouth.
“On your hands and knees,” Brone demanded in a deep, raspy tone. When Wyatt glanced at his mate, he saw the lust, the need deep in those light brown eyes.
Flipping to his hands and knees, Wyatt braced himself for the pain. His body stiffened as his breathing became shallow. When Brone brushed the head of his cock over Wyatt’s hole, Wyatt jerked.
“You need to relax, bear.” Brone’s hand slid over Wyatt’s ass. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’ve seen the size of your dick,” Wyatt said. “I highly doubt you can deliver on that promise.”
The head of Brone’s cock popped past the ring of muscles. Wyatt breathed out as the fullness made him hiss. It burned. It burned like hell, but Brone smoothed his hand over Wyatt’s back, up and down his spine, but didn’t push any farther inside Wyatt’s body.
A soft kiss landed on his shoulder and then another. Wyatt tried to relax as Brone slowly worked his way in. Whenever Wyatt stiffened, Brone stopped. Wyatt wasn’t sure he could do this. Where in the hell was the pleasure?
“It’ll ease,” Brone crooned to him. “Just try your best to relax.”
Blowing out a long breath, Wyatt nodded. He forced his body to relax, to unknot as he slowly sank his shoulders into the mattress.
“That’s it,” Brone said. He began to move faster, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. One second Wyatt was ready to tell Brone that he couldn’t do this, and the next he was flying high. His hisses turned into moans as his entire body went lax.
Brone’s hands were everywhere—brushing over Wyatt’s back, his shoulders, his arms, and down his outer thighs. It was as if the man couldn’t get enough of touching Wyatt, and Wyatt was fine with that. He was a tactile creature, and the touches only stoked the flames already racing through his blood. Pushing to his hands, Wyatt met Brone’s strokes until they were moving in a synced rhythm. Wyatt shoved backward as Brone drove forward, burying his cock as deep as it would go before pulling back again.
“You feel incredible,” Wyatt said between pants. Never had he thought that receiving instead of giving had its own rewards.
“So do you,” Brone said as his fingers dug into Wyatt’s hips. “So fucking incredible.”
His mate’s hips punched forward, his groin slamming into Wyatt’s ass, the sound of skin meeting skin ringing through the room. His balls swung freely as his hard cock bobbed in the air. Wyatt’s fingers curled into the bedspread as he hitched his ass higher.
And then Brone pulled free. Wyatt was confused for all of five seconds before Brone flipped him and drove his cock back into Wyatt’s ass. Brone lifted Wyatt’s beefy legs over his strong arms and pulled Wyatt closer, lifting his ass off the bed as he pounded into Wyatt.