Disclaimer: Characters noted here, though revised, are the property of Stephanie Meyer; author of The Twilight Saga. All references made in this story are done out of pure creative development. Any references to similiar groups or business are coincidental. No infringement is intended. I own nothing but the plot.
AN: This story is un-beta. I just wanted to treat myself to this post because of all the hard work I have been putting into school and it was so nice to get to do some writing again.
If either of my beautiful betas: RedCaprice or chynadollars want to pull this, edit this, and send it back to me than by all means. Hope you all enjoy!
I saw him as soon as he stepped through the door. His head down and the crisp night breeze that followed behind him whipped his hair around his face. He turned, surveying the other patrons finally locking his eyes with mine. I stood completely still, mid swipe of the damp towel pressed to the bar, as his icy blue eyes met mine head on. My breathing stopped. It felt like slow motion from the moment he held my gaze, feeding something in to me, through my eyes that my body couldn't handle. He turned his back on me as he walked to join the remaining BloodLust Riders.
I had been in the Middle-of-fucking-no-where, Arizona for six months. My skin seemed to carry a permanent layer of sweat and sand. The high heat and humidity only lacked at the beginning of night where the temperature dropped to a cool eighty degrees. The dry, heated, wind picked up every inch of sand not packed down, tossing it in the air like a juggler in a circus act. Nothing was clean here and every color had no choice but to have a dusty top coat. Reds were pale, blacks were almost gray, and white just didn't exist.
I said I wanted to run and get away from it all and I'd be damned if I didn't get it. Twenty-three years old, no job, a piece of a car, a thousand dollars in my pocket, and no family or friends to answer to. I had to go, get away from the stares and whispers, go somewhere where no one could find me and no one knew me. Maybe somewhere I would be accepted. I didn't know where the hell that was, but I knew it wasn't in the small minded ass town I was leaving behind me with every mile my Rabbit picked up. I had no clue where I was going. Twenty three years old and I had never been passed Olympia. I didn't know shit about what awaited me outside the reservation of La Push. All the hell I knew was that I could take the shit off strangers a whole lot fucking better than I could off my father, sisters, and tribe brothers. Come to fucking find out, a restored VW and a thousand dollars only gets you stranded in some open field ass desert just inside of Arizona that some ass-hat actually calls a town. A town where there is nothing but a grocery store, a small motel, two gas stations, a repair shop that only specialize in motorcycles, and of course a bar.
My Rabbit had broken down right in front of the only repair shop in a thousand mile radius. I didn't even know how the hell I had made it there. I must have made a wrong damn turn somewhere between running from home and not knowing where the hell I was going. The repair shop was no fucking good, they only fixed motorcycles. The damn place didn't even have a car lift. I convinced the owner, Charlie, to rent me his tools but that shit was pointless. As soon as I popped my hood I saw the melted mess that was every bit of the engine block. My car was as dead as my hopes and dreams of fucking escaping.
From the moment I realized there was no help for my car I knew I was going to be stuck in the land of the lost until the end of time. I had no family to call. No friends. No home. I took a few hundred dollars and rented a room for a week and bought some food. I knew I had to come up with a plan and fucking soon. Money was growing short and I was only a few hundred dollar bills from being homeless. After the week was up I was no closer to figuring out what the hell to do. I quickly gave up on the idea of hitchhiking out of there. The entire week I was there I had only seen a few cars drive through and if I wasn't fucking crazy they were doing twice the damn speed limit as they passed the small establishments on the side of the dirt road. There was no way in fucking hell they were going to stop. I ended up renting the room for a total of two weeks. My last fifty dollars in my pocket and no hope for tomorrow, I walked the block up from the motel and into the bar where I was going to drown my issues with something smooth.
The bar was called Spartan and I had to be grateful for it. If it wasn't for the man that ran the place, Walen, I wouldn't have had a place to eat, sleep, or scrub my daily coat of minerals off my skin. The night I went into the bar Walen let me have my fill of Jack Daniel's.
"So, your car is broke down. Given that there are plenty of phones around here, I'm assuming either you have no family or you just don't want to fuckin' call them." Walen was polishing a beer goblet as he spoke, not once looking up at me from his place behind the bar. "I'm sure by now you are out of money and no place to go. I can help you with that."
"What?" I was more than a little drunk and though I heard his words I didn't believe them. "You don't even fucking know me." I dropped my head down on the bar, harder than I intended. The only way this back alley cat was going to be able to help me was to let me sleep off the hangover I felt already creeping up on me.
"You can work here if you know how to poor whisky in a shot glass and pop a top on a long neck. I will pay you but since you don't have any place to sleep I can offer you the one bedroom I got in da back for half your week's pay." I slowly lifted my head, trying not to stir the alcohol pumping through my veins.
"Now look fuckin' here you little shit. I'm not goin' offer it again. Either you want the job and the damn apartment or you don't. If you don't than get the fuck out my bar 'cause I'll be closing in an hour. If you do, take this fuckin' key and go sleep off that fuck Jack Hat you are about to be wearin' 'cause you will be at this bar tomorrow at three o-fuckin'-clock."
Speechless, drunk, and depressed will lower your ability to be pissed about being talked to like a child. The most I could offer in an attempt to regain my manhood was to snatch the key out of his hand and stomp to the room he offered. In hind sight, that was the least manly thing I could have done.
There wasn't much to the room: A cool bed, a bathroom with a shower, a kitchen with a two eye stove, decent fridge, and of course a bar to divide the bedroom from the kitchenette. I immediately sprawled out on the bed not even givin' a fuck of what state the sheets may have been in: clean or dirty. When I woke up the next late morning I began my daily routine of helping man the bar.
Spartan was a biker's bar in every since of the word: leather, hard liquor, pool tables, fights, and skanky females wearing skirts that could second as a head band. They were all holding on to some long-bearded, pot belly, hog rider who looked like he was on the run from the law. I had been at Spartan for just over a week the first time the caravan of bikers rode through. I was both terrified and terrified. I'm pretty decent size guy; six foot one, broad shoulders, use to work out and run regularly, but these men looked like they all could snap me in two, but I was also terrified because I wanted them too. Like wanted-wanted them.
Can you say ironic? Here I am looking to get away from a bigot town who basically disowned me because I prefer the intimate company of a man and in my escape I land smack dap in the middle of red neck biker club med. I couldn't tell anyone here I was gay, not if I like my teeth or wanted my vital organs to remain vital. Not telling anyone wasn't the fucking problem. I didn't know any of these hellions anyway. Besides Walen and the two bar maids, Jessica and Lauren, I hardly talked to anyone I didn't have too. I stood behind the bar, poured drinks, and minded my own damn business. No, my problem wasn't keeping my business to myself. My problem was the constant fucking boner I was sporting thanks to a few of the damn bikers who did look like they were human. I don't think any of them owned shirts outside of their leather vest that branded them to one biker gang of the other. I was constantly bombarded with rippling, sweaty muscles, tight pecks, and leather wrapped asses of steel. When their calloused hands brushed against mine, I swear I could hear my heart beat pick up speed.
Every night I shut the bar down, walked Lauren and Jessica to their car, walked back to the small one bedroom apartment and self-loved until I was too damn tried to cry myself to sleep.
I watched as he walked toward his gang.
I knew of the BloodLust Riders. Their leader, James, and his main chick, Victoria, were always in Spartan. Their showing up meant that the rest of the gang wasn't far behind. The BloodLust Riders always wore their rider vest: rich black leather stitched in thick red threads. On the back of the vest or jacket were large fang teeth, each with two drops of blood falling from their points. There was no mouth, but above the teeth were sinister eyes, the same crimson color as the blood. Just below the teeth, in the same thick red threading, was "BLR." James vest and jacket had five blood drops above the pocket on the left, across his heart. Lauren had told me that it was their sign, identifying him as the head of the gang. He was following in the footsteps of his father, Aro. Aro had retired; transcending from the rider's leader to one of three elders who oversaw that the rules of the society were adhered too with pride. Laurent and Benjamin each had three stars on their pocket identifying them as generals. Then there were Felix, Demetri, and Alec, the elite guard members with one blood drop a piece decorating their armor; everyone else was foot soldiers. The group normally traveled with women, the rider's girlfriends or wives, and some just picked up a chick whenever they made it into town. I never saw a BLR leave Spartan without some skank on his arm.
"Jacob, can you give me a hand and clear the tables in the back?" Jessica dropped her tray on the counter making me jump. I hadn't realized how gone I was until the clattering noise rang out over the loud rumble of voices and the jukebox thrumming out Metallica. "Sorry, did I scare you?" Jessica added.
"Yeah, a little. I'm okay."
Jessica giggled a little and added, "Well do you think you can take care of those tables?" Jessica pointed behind her, towards the corner. I followed her hand only to see she was referring to the corner where the BloodLust Riders gathered. Moreover, she was referring to the tables right beside the nameless member with the icy blue eyes.
"Sure, sure," I managed to say. Bending down to pretend I was picking up a fresh bottle of Jack, I drew in a few deep breaths.
I wasn't afraid of the bikers, though I had seen firsthand how brutal they were in a fight. I never stepped in to stop a fight knowing that shit was not conducive to my safety. The thing was I was safe behind the bar. The long wood and steel table that stood four feet off the ground hid my raging hard on I got every time one of the damn riders came into building. I hardly came from behind the bar for my own safety. How the fuck was I going to explain the budge in my pants when I was in a room filled with fucking men? The women that were normally in Spartan were always there with some rider, so blaming the physical reaction on one of them was going to cause just as big of a damn fight as anything else. Even Jessica and Lauren were wives to local riders. I was grateful for the rarity to have to assist Lauren and Jessica before all patrons had left. I felt like I was playing a game of chance every time I stepped into that fucking room every afternoon and night.
I slowly made my way to the offending tables. There were beer bottles, glasses, turned over ashtrays, and spills all over the place. As I got closer to the table my breath caught. I could feel someone staring at me and I was too nervous to turn around and see who it could be. I wasn't shy. I wasn't scared. I was cautions. When I did finally chance looking in the direction the heat was coming from, I saw the clearest eyes in the room. As I got closer I could see the god that I had never had seen before.
He had long blond hair, parted down the middle and hanging down the sides of his face. He wore a shirt under his vest but it couldn't be any tighter, showing a muscle riddled chest. His legs looked like they accounted for the most of his height. He wore cowboy boots with silver tips; unlike the rest of the riders who all seemed to wear combat boots. My eyes went to his vest pocket. There were no blood drops; he was just a foot soldier. I began cleaning the horrid mess at the surrounding tables, trying desperately not to listen to the beauty's conversation with James.
"Jazz, fuck man, so glad you fuckin' made it. I honestly didn't think you would come," James clasped his hand on the man's shoulder. I kept repeating "Jazz" in my head, wanting to commit it to memory.
"I couldn't miss this man. I headed this way soon as the news came 'cross the wire. How the fuck you been man?" I stole a look in Jazz's direction.
"Pretty good; really shit can't be better. Ready to get back on the damn road though. This staying still shit doesn't work for me. But you've always known that." James took a pull off the cigarette in his hand. "I miss you though," James waved his cigarette hand around. "You know you always have a place at my right side. Nobody could keep these asses in line like you."
"You always said you wanted to lead these hell cats. You got yo' wish, but that ain't the life for me man, and you know it." Jazz laughed lightly at his friend's expense, pushing him away playfully. I could hear the undertone of something major to that conversation.
The grip my pants had on my body between the waist and knee only got tighter. The way his voice fell over my ears had me ready to moan. I pushed back the thoughts of how hard he could fuck me; trying only to focus on the ash puddle I was trying to clean.
"You were born into this shit. This," James turned looking at the rest of the riders before turning back to Jazz, "is your fucking legacy man. How could you not want this? You're fucking royalty." Jazz didn't say anything else, only looking down at his boots. James must have known there was no reason to beat what seemed like a dead horse.
"Man, I can't believe Marcus is gone. Damn! We are laying a fuckin' legacy to rest tomorrow. Do you realize that shit?" James and Jazz walked to the nearby table directly in front of me.
At the sound of the chairs being slid across the concrete floor I looked up only to find Jazz sitting face front, looking right at me. His eyes were more piercing close up. I tried to look away unsuccessfully. I couldn't read the look in his eye as he arched his eyebrow, but the stirring feeling in the bottom of my stomach told me he was assessing something I didn't want him to fucking know. Finally able to pull my eyes away from his, I cleared my throat trying not to bolt in fear that act would clearly give me away . . . to what I didn't really know.
"Yeah, man. Marcus is a legacy, but shit it was just his time. Sometimes you gotta just move the fuck on with it." Jazz tilted his long neck to his mouth taking a gulp before continuing. Again there was a tone to his voice that I could hear, a stranger. I just knew that James had to hear it too. "But really Marcus was long gone. He never was the same after Dee De died. I guess he is back in her arms now."
"When the fuck did you get so damn poetic?" James laughed.
"Shut that shit up." Jazz raised his beer to James as he said, "To Marcus!"
"To Marcus!" James screamed out as he clanked his bottle to Jazz.
"To Marcus!" The entire bar roared in response. Clinking of glass and bottles filled the air.
I hurried and cleaned the rest of the mess, stealing glances at Jazz every chance I got, only to find him looking directly at me. I spent the rest of the night in fear that my secret was out; as if the word "HOMO" was written across my face. If Jazz knew, if he suspected, than the rest would know. Suddenly, the fear I had never claimed to have back home, or here in Arizona, came roaring it's fucking ugly head. I was stuck; I didn't have anywhere to go and no way to get there. Despite my fear that the mysterious man had somehow found me out I couldn't resist looking his direction. When the bar finally closed the BloodLust Riders were the last to leave. Every rider stumbled out in the arms of some female or had her thrown over his shoulder. One rider was slapping a girl on her now showing ass, promising to punish her tonight.
Jazz walked out alone, looking back in my direction.
I had dreams and nightmares of icy blue eyes.
The next night the BloodLust Riders returned, somewhat somber after attending the funeral of their fallen brother. The liquor flowed just as much as the stories of Marcus and his hay days of the BloodLust general.
Despite my growing fear for what I kept seeing in Jazz's eyes at every glance I was still drawn his way.
"We mourn our gone brother, friend, Marcus," James screamed from on top of one of a pool table. "But tonight is also a celebration. Carlisle is moving on from rider to elder. To you man," James tilted his beer in the direction of the man who sat in the corner with a brunette on his lap. "Carlisle, Esme, you have big shoes to fill, but we know you can fuckin' handle it. To Carlisle!"
"CARLISLE!" The bar went into an up roar, men hooting and howling like wolves; stomping their feet and banging pool sticks.
Carlisle simply raised his glass to his brothers. The man aged well and my mind couldn't imagine him in the same league as the remaining two elders. The memorial and party continued well into the early morning. Walen eventually had to force the gang to leave but not before I could look at Jazz one last time.
I had just finished stacking the last of the chairs. The process taking longer since I excused Jessica and Lauren to leave; they had stayed so late. My body was damn tired but my mind was racing. All I could think about was the icy eye rider who had managed to come in and take over every thought, waking and fucking otherwise. I locked up the bar and walked back to my lonely solitary room only to find a figure perched on my door. I froze in my track, fight or flight instinct leaning more on flight as I realized that it was no other than my beautiful nightmare blocking my way to safety. At the sight of those fucking eyes looking up from the floor and straight at me what fear I did have was soon overrun by dangerous curiosity.
We said nothing, but my heart and brain were talking enough to me that I may have missed it if he did say something. For the first time in any bit of history I knew my heart and brain agreed: leave and fucking leave now, but the surge of energy pulsing through my body was counteracting the damn demand and my feet just didn't move. Jazz kicked off the door and slowly began to walk my way. Less than arm's length away from me, my breath got caught somewhere between my lungs and nose. Jazz was so close I could smell his musk, and despite my fear it was turning me the fuck on. Not once taking his eyes from mine he continued his advance 'til his chest was pressed to mine, his sweat soaked shirt sticking to me.
"I love the way fear smells on you." Jazz closed the space that only existed between our lips slowly, as if he dared me to move away from his advances.
His dry lips pressed to mine, tasting of the whisky I had been serving him all night. Jazz wrapped his arms around my waist squeezing me just the way I liked, but there was no way for him to know that. I moaned into Jazz's mouth captivated by both his taste and the sweet intoxication that was the whisky. At the sound of my pleasure Jazz kissed me harder, pressed me closer into his body. My head was swimming. I didn't know it was from the lack of oxygen; I still hadn't taken a breath. Maybe it was from my heart that was trying to beat its way out of my chest. Or maybe it was just the power that the dangerous creature had over me.
"Open the fucking door and do not speak unless spoken too." Jazz moved from his place against my chest. The cool night breeze met the damp front of my shirt adding to the chill bumps that Jazz had already left all over my body.
My shaking hands managed to get the door open as Jazz teased my neck with firm bites, running his hand through my long hair as he moved from one side to the other. Jazz saw what the fuck he was doing to me, lightly laughing in my ear as he pushed me through the door. He kept his hand wrapped around my body as he pressed his dick into my ass, sure to make me feel how hard and ready he was. He took my keys from my hands tossing them on the nearby chair. He put his now empty hands into my hair rubbing his dull nails across my scalp. Forcing my head to the side, he sank his teeth into my exposed neck. My dick jumped in my pants as I fisted a handful of his jeans, the only part of him my hands could reach. He soothed away the delicious burn of his actions with the swipe of his tongue and I knew that I was going to cream my damn pants before he even touched me.
"I will ask you questions and you will answer. Honestly," he added as he pulled on my hair just enough to feel it. "You do not have a choice, you will answer." Jazz did not wait for me to say anything, not that I could. I was fucking sure my body didn't work anymore on my own brain waves. Jazz was fucking powering me from the moment I saw him at the door.
"Do you want me to let you go? Do you want me to leave?" Jazz voice was stern, commanding, and sexy.
I took several deep breaths, begging my body to calm. Still not finding my voice in the puddle that was my body, I simply shook my head.
"Good. Now, what is your name?" Jazz had slid his hands under my shirt, tracing the lines of my muscles, ghosting his rough finger tips over my nipples. I could feel the dampness growing in my underwear as they stretched tighter over my need. Too lost in what he was doing to my body I still couldn't answer.
"Speak! Now!" Jazz ordered.
"Jacob," I said in a squeak of a voice. Clearing my throat, focusing on using the body that once belonged to me, I repeated my name in a voice that sound more reminiscent of my own, but still not quite it.
"Jacob," Jazz said biting into my ear. "You have been staring at me, Jacob."
Jazz swiftly pulled my shirt up forcing me to tug my arms out of the article. I saw in the moon lit room, Jazz threw the shirt out of sight, slowly walking around to face me. As he moved he slid his hands from the small of my back, around my side and back into the lines of my stomach and abs. It had been so long since I had been with anyone and the slow torture was adding to the dizziness in my head. I still didn't know what Jazz was going to do to me, but from the bulge that was being pressed into my leg I knew I was going to die a happy man.
"Tell me to stop," Jazz commanded as he began to push me towards the bed.
"No," I managed to whisper, never taking my eyes from his.
"Tell me to stop." The back of my legs pressed to the frame of the mattress; Jazz stilled me, not letting me fall.
"I don't want to," I said in a much sure voice. Jazz moved closer to my waiting lips, the feel of his warm breath sliding on my face, lulling my eyes closed.
"Tell me to stop." I could hear him talking through his teeth.
"Jazz . . . please," I begged, fisting his shirt in my hands.
That's when I fell.
As Jazz's lips met mine again and again, his tongue messaging my own, I felt his hard body atop of mine. I wrapped my finger around every strand of hair I could manage. Jazz rocked back and forth against my leg, making me feel what it was that I really wanted. I knew the loud moans that filled the room were mines. Then the muscled pressure I felt against my body was gone.
"No, please don't go," I said as I sat up reaching for any part of him I could find. Jazz stood just out of reach from the bed, his predatory eyes glowing even more as the moon light shone only over his face.
"Pants off, now." The command in Jazz voice sent waves of desire down my spine and collecting in the pit of my stomach urging me to erupt.
I stood up and slowly undid my pants, toeing out of my shoes, pulling off my boxers and pants together. I stood before him, ready for him to do whatever he wanted to me. He stalked closer to my body, eying me hungrily. His hands rubbed the course hair at the base of my cock before he palmed my already pulsing balls in his hands, tugging on them. His eyes met mine again until I could no longer fight my body's reaction to close them and focus only on the feel of his strong hands on me. He squeezed the base of my cock, using it to pull me closer to his body before sliding his hands up the remainder of my length.
"Oh fuck," I moaned in pleasure and pain.
"You will watch me while I fuck you. Do you understand?" I nodded my hand in understanding receiving a devilish grin and peck for agreeing.
Jazz stepped away again sliding his vest of his arms and quickly removing his shirt. I stood watching in amazement as more and more of his body was revealed to me. Jazz's body was beautiful, muscled cut, and yet lean. His skin was creamy and smooth; covered in tattoos. I stared at the intricate webs that were inked across the left side of his chest. The first web completely covered his left pec and a connecting web just below it to the right; smaller but just as detailed. The smaller web connected to another that was below it and to the left. I could see that each line wrapped around his back and was anxious to follow it to see where it leads, but I was too afraid to move. I wasn't ordered to move. Just then I saw Jazz's pants hit the floor. His dick bounced against his body, swollen, ready, and leaking deliciousness. I licked my lips at the sight of him.
"Do it," I was instructed and I knew exactly what my desire, desired of me. I slowly walked to the Adonis before me, sinking to my knees.
I kept my eyes on his as I took his harden cock in my hand. I licked the slit of his seeping purple head. He tasted more sweet than salty. I could feel his member pulse in my hand at the action and as if it was a reflex I squeezed my hand around the base of his dick. Wanting more of him, I licked the hard edge of his dick, finally pulling his head into my mouth, hallowing my jaws. I consumed his cock slowly, circling my tongue around the sensitive cut specimen, moving him in and out of my mouth with exaggerated pop of my lips. I watched as Jazz leaned his head back, quietly moaning. He was so fucking beautiful with his eyes closed, mouth open, enjoying what I had for him. I wanted to give him more, see him love it more. I took all of him into my mouth forcibly; making sure his cock hit the back of my throat. My tongue trailed up and down the thick veins of his member as I shifted his hips back and forth, simulating him fucking my mouth.
"Hell, yeah." Jazz held my head still as he continued to drive his long, thick, dick in and out of my mouth. I hallowed jaws more, closing in tighter on his dick, almost refusing him to move too far. If he was going to nut I didn't want to drop an ounce.
"God damn it, Jacob. Best fucking mouth I ever had. Tell me Jacob; is that ass as fucking tight as your making that mouth of yours? Is that ass going to make me nut like these lips are about to make me nut?" Jazz pushed harder and faster between my teeth. I moaned around his length as it dug into my throat; digging deeper into the flesh on his hips with my nails in respond to his question.
I could feel my dick twitching, hitting my abs, leaving a sticky mess as it bounced back and forth. I hadn't been so damn hard in all my life. I fought off the urge to take myself in my hand, rub out my release like my body was use too after all this time of being alone, but a part of me was holding out, hoping that Jazz would do it for me.
"Aah . . . shit . . . yeah, yeah . . . fuck yeah." Jasper fisted my hair with more pain than pleasure. "Stop!"
I popped off the head of Jazz's dick, my heart throbbing in fear. I thought I had done something wrong, hurt him. My blood was pumping through my body at light speed and it was only making the already blood filled dick throb harder beneath the flesh that refused to accommodate more growth.
Jazz pulled me to my feet, claiming my mouth with his own; moaning at the taste of his own essence on my tongue. Pulling away from my lips, leaving me breathless I suddenly felt his cool hand pulling on my dick.
"Shit, Jazz!" I screamed louder than was probably safe.
"Jacob, were you trying to make me come? I don't want to nut in that perfect mouth of yours; maybe next time. No, tonight I want to feel how tight that ass is." Jazz squeezed my dick with one hand as is smacked me across my ass with the other. I felt nothing; my brain was still on Jazz use of the words "next time." There was going to be a fucking next time.
"Lay down . . . on the pillows."
Moving with the power of my elbows, I crawled backwards towards the pillows and head board. My eyes still hadn't left Jazz body, drawn to the ink he wore. I watched as his muscles flexed and rolled as he fished a condom and packet of lube out of his pants pocket. I was so fucking glad he was prepared. I hadn't been fucked since getting to Bondock-ville and the lube that I had was long gone from my constant wanking. Never thinking I was going to get fucked while here, I never bother to venture out for more. I was sure Grandma's At Hand Store didn't carry my brand of warming lotion.
Having what he was searching for Jazz moved on to the bed; spreading my legs as he came closer and closer to my body. I gave into my the desire to take myself in hand, giving myself long sure strokes as I watched Jazz lower his body on top of mine. He said nothing as he smothered my face in close mouth kiss from my lips, down my neck, over my collar bone and down to my pebbled nibbles. Jazz pulled each raised; harden flesh into his mouth, grazing the sensitive area with his teeth. After sucking on each nibble, leaving it wet from the attention, Jazz blew slow cool breaths over my flesh. I arched my back from the seeking out his contact, gripping my dick harder to keep myself from coming.
Jazz swatted my hand away from my dick, causing me to groan. My body needed to be touched, but instead I fisted the sheets at my side. I watched him slowly roll the condom down his engorged length. Watching him touch himself as he looked deeply into my eyes was more than enough to make me come then but I pulled on every ounce of will my body processed. I wanted to feel him buried balls deep in my body when I finally gave into to my bodies need to snap.
"Jazz, please touch me, fuck me, do something . . . please," I begged.
"I wanted this ass the first time I watched it walk away." I heard the packet of lube being opened and the slick sound of Jazz coating his fingers. "Did you know how fucking much you were teasing me?" I felt the cool touch at my ass and my long neglected body was ready to betray me again.
Jazz watched as my dick twitched with anticipation as he eased one digit pass the tight hole. Finally one finger fully buried in my body, Jazz lowered his mouth to my dick, pre-cum running down my needy cock onto my stomach and pooling in my belly button. Jazz licked away the essence; steady sending my body into an over stimulated haze. As if the taste of my skin powered his inner monster, I watched as the look changed in Jazz's eyes back to the hard predator I had seen in the bar. He began to fuck me without restraint, adding one finger at a time until I was a ball of nerve ready to take all of him.
I didn't think I was going to be able to take the wait anymore. I knew I was going to fucking embarrass myself because the slow torture Jazz inflicted on my body had me ready to blow and it wasn't going to take to many passes of my sweet spot to send me over the edge.
Pushing just the head of his dick into my body, I grabbed onto Jazz hair, something to remind me where I was and what I was doing or else I was going to scream loud enough to wake the entire dusty town.
He fully pushed into my body with a thrust hard enough to rock the old box spring bed, bumping it against the bar at the head of the bed. I felt as a growl emanated deep in Jazz's body shaking both of our bodies with its vibration. My heart stopped beating as my lungs filled with the breath that I couldn't push back out. Fear crept along my skin as Jazz lowered his body closer to mine. The silver moonlight met his face as he grew closer and closer to my own, revealing eyes black as coal. No longer were his they clear blue with mischief as when he appeared at my door. No longer where they icy and stern as he command me to suck his dick. No, now they were dangerously black, bottomless almost.
"Mine," I heard the newly unleashed monster growl low and hoarse into my ear. Without warning the bed repeatedly knocked into the makeshift island. My body thrashed around the bed as Jazz held only my legs in placed as he continued to drive deeper and deeper into my body. His hard calloused hand squeeze and pulling on my cock.
There were no other words spoken as he claimed me with each touch of my skin and each push into my willing body. All concept of time was lost as I cared about nothing but what Jazz was giving me and I was giving him. I felt rather than saw Jazz lose all rhythm in his thrust, slamming me harder and slower onto his cock as he lifted the bottom half of my body from the bed. He impelled me on his body until I felt his nails dig into the flesh of my ass and hips. Jazz growled into the moon lit room as I felt his dick swell and release into the condom. Ragged breaths pumped out of his body as he sat above me with his eyes closed. He still looked animalistic through my hooded eyes. My dick lay still fully harden, no release had as I managed to hold off the burn deep in my gut while I was ravaged mercifully by the man that still stood on his knees above me. It was bittersweet: even if only for one night I had the man who haunted my mind, but I was still without release.
Fucking determined to have what my body needed; I moved my hand to finish what had been started. Before I could fully stroke myself I was being pinned to the mattress, both of my wrists being held over my head. I was looking back into the eyes of the blood lust crazed maniac who had taken me so forcefully moments ago.
"Don't fucking touch what's mine," Jazz sneered between his teeth just before sinking them into the flesh just below my collarbone. I screamed out in pain; unsure if it was from the searing pain in which I was being marked with or the white hot intensity of my dick releasing every ounce of my cum between our hard pressed body.
I fell away from consciousness immediately after. I moved in and out of this world, my spirit still trying to find its way back to the shell Jazz had left. I slipped into my body sometime in the way to early morning. I found Jazz sitting on the edge of my bed, his back to my half aware form. My eyes still had not come into focus. I strained my neck to look at him as I lay on my stomach still to limp to know if what I saw was real. It was then I saw the lines I had been searching for earlier.
The black ink lines of the webs I desperately wanted to lick faced me. Each of the three extended thread of the webs wrapped around Jazz steal body and back into the large black spider that spanned from Jazz's shoulder to the small of his back. The deep black ink seemed almost life like against his creamy rich skin. The entire arachnid was black but still the diamond and lined texture of the tattoo could be seen as it was shaded in different depressions of the dark ink. The beady eyes of the creature were life like as if they are anxiously watching the webs he had weaved, waiting for a pray to fall in. I couldn't help but think even in my thoroughly fucked mind that I was the prey that had been stuck in those webs. At the apex of the spiders torso was one white spot with "BLR" inside in red ink.
"Entrapped," I said aloud but barely above a whisper my body barely strong enough to create.
Jazz was already at the door but paused at the sound of my voice. He walked out without another look behind him; without saying a word.
"Jazz, fuck man! What the fuck can I say to convince you to come join me? You know this is where the fuck you belong." James was pissed but he was trying to control it. James knew, as I was learning, Jazz didn't respond to anger. He would only look at you, waiting on you to calm down. If the process took to damn long he would just as soon leave, coming back when the fuck he was good and ready.
"James," Jazz paused to take a sip of his bear straight from the long neck, "I told you man this isn't the fucking life for me. I will always be a BLR, I just can't be here. I would rather be out there on the fucking road. Man, you know that shit."
"So that's it then? No more fuckin' talking about it? When the fuck are you leaving this time?"
I tried hard not to listen to the conversation but my entire body was drawn to Jazz. The sound of his damn voice did something to my body and I knew if I ever lost my sight, that buzz could lead me right to him. I always knew it was possibility that Jazz could leave; more like it was a matter of fucking time. But hearing the words tore something deep inside me that I didn't even want to fucking give a name to. As I looked up from the nearby table I was trying to clean, I was met with blue eyes. These eyes were different from the ones I had seen over the time I was growing to know Jazz. He had several looks and colors depending on his mood and this time it was eyes in the face of emotion and confusion.
"Soon, James, real soon," Jazz said but all a while never taking his eyes of mine.
I was thankful when the crowd started to thin out earlier than usual. The girls and I got the bar cleaned up quick and I was off to my room hoping that I wouldn't be alone.
Jazz had been in the dusty town for just over a month from the day of Marcus' funeral. He had spent every night but three with me. After that first night Jazz took me with a need that stills rock me to my fucking core just thinking about it, I didn't suspect to ever see him again. I was surprised to see him in the bar the next night; even more surprised to see him at my door at the end of the shift. He took me again with a possessive passion that I had no words for. Every night he reclaimed me and every morning he would stay a little longer than he did the day before. We talked. We fucked. We slept. We actually fucking grew, but into what I didn't have a fucking answer for.
I knew I felt something deep for Jazz but that was all I was willing to claim it as. To call it by any other name would be foolish. I was nobody's damn fool. Jazz never called it anything either. His stern look hid any emotions that may have surfaced but on a rare occasion, when it was just him and I, he would show me. He would never say it but he would show me in those icy blues. In all honesty I wanted Jazz like I wanted no one else, but I was never going to fucking tell him that. If I was destined to be his Arizona fling, no matter what I read in those striking orbs every night, than so fucking be it. I wasn't going to be the first to say it.
Just as I hoped, I turned the corner and found him at my door. But unlike usual where he stood, foot pressed to the wall like he was channeling his inner Fonzy, this time he sat on the floor directly in front of my door. Jazz held tight to his legs that were pulled to his chest and his face was buried into his knees.
"Jasper, what's wrong, babe?" I whispered near his ear, running my hands through the hair that hung over the front of his face. I only called him Jasper when it was just him and me in my small apartment. I told him I preferred Jasper over Jazz and one night after he fucked me slow and sensually for the first time, letting me see his emotions in his eyes, he asked me to call him Jasper.
He didn't answer me.
"Come on." I pulled Jasper up by his arm, unlocked the door and pulled him into our private world. I looked down on the ground to find his BloodLust Rider jacket balled up, tossed away from my door. It was the first time I had ever seen him handle the item so carelessly. I walked over to the crumbled leather, picking it up and rubbing some of the red dirt off. Jasper was pacing ideally in the little space between the kitchen and the bar. He stopped his mindless walking when he saw me walk back in with the rider jacket in my hands.
I didn't know what was wrong but from the look on his face as he watch me handle the once valued piece of him, I knew it steamed from his place in the BloodLust Riders. I walked into the kitchen, and began cleaning off the dirty jacket with a towel. Jasper stood at my side watching my hands as I wiped away every article of dirt. A word was not spoken until I was happy with the restoration of the leather and red thread. I folded the jacket neatly and placed it over the arm of the recliner chair.
"What are you fuckin' doin', Jake?" Jasper had decided to give me my own name.
I took Jasper by the hand and lead him to the bed. Jazz was never told to do anything but on occasion I could get him to do things my way. I gave him a quick kiss, silently telling him to relax. I sat him down on my bed and removed his boots. Urging him up towards the pillows, I crawled between his legs, kicking off my own shoes as I went. Only inches from his face I looked deep into his eyes. They were so much clearer than most nights. Bright and shinning as if he was fully open to me; like it was a look only for me.
I pressed my lips to his; never urging him any further past soft slow touches of flesh. I wanted him to pull me closer. I needed the confirmation that I was his; that he wanted me, even if only for the night. Jasper did not disappoint. He tangled his hand into my hair and pulled me closer as his hand held onto my back. His strength was like being in heaven. The kiss grew until we need to breathe but at the same time needed each other to be able to breathe.
"I have to leave, Jacob," Jasper said still short of breath from our urgent connection.
I heard the words not with my ears but with the part of me that wanted to never be away from him. My stomach dropped. I was light headed. I couldn't find the breath I needed. What he said wasn't a shock. I had fucking known it all along. I had heard it earlier in the bar. Somehow, I fucking convinced myself that until he said the words, until he was no longer waiting for me at my door, then it wasn't real. I could ignore it.
But he did say it. The very words I dreaded, now sat between our parted lips in the world we had created.
I fell onto his mouth with more need then before. I needed . . . I needed Jazz. I need Jazz to take control. I needed Jazz to possess me the way only he could. Jazz wasn't a fuckin' punk and you did whatever the hell he said. If Jazz told me to get the fuck over it and move on than that's exactly what I was going to do.
I tried to pull out the beast I knew was in the man beneath me; I just couldn't find him. Only Jasper was there in that room with me. I wrapped my hands in his hair pulling, needing to garner a response from Jazz but Jasper slowly trailed his hands along my arms, gently pulling my hands away from the roots of his soft wave, locking our fingers together.
I humped vicariously, grinding our hard cocks against the denim between each of us. I need the powerful, mind blowing thrust that Jazz delivered with every stroke of my body. Jasper held me tighter, rolling us onto my back, taking control of our movement.
Jazz was fast, rough, and all for instant gratification.
Jasper was slow, tender, savoring.
Maybe I needed both.
Pressed between his strong body (the body that belongs to Jazz and Jasper) I was quickly losing the will not to cry. There was no fucking way I was going to let him see me this way. I was going to watch him walk away with dignity, no matter how fucking much it hurt.
"Jacob, I have to leave." Jasper stroked my leg. The heat of his touch seemed to scorch through the thick material of the pants. He wouldn't take his eyes away from mine. I felt like he was feeding something into me through those eyes, the way he always did, but I couldn't figure out what. Something was blocking his message to me.
"I fucking heard you the first time!" I pushed against the part of his chest I could reach. My attack was useless, Jasper hardly moving a muscle. He repositioned himself between my legs, holding tighter to my leg that was wrapped around his body. I threw my hands above my head, giving up trying to pull out the part of him that I needed the most.
"Jacob. Jake." Jasper said my name as he ran his fingers down my jaw.
I was losing the battle of my emotions. His touch was making me want to scream out how much I felt for him. I wanted to tell him never to leave me because if he did I would fucking die. I wanted to fucking tell him to leave right the fuck then cause we weren't anything but fuck buddies and I was through with him anyway. But I knew that was a lie. The moment he dared to turn his back on me surely I would crumple. But I was already crumbling.
"Just fucking leave already. Damnit Jazz!" What my hands didn't do, my words apparently did.
"Jazz? You fucking called me Jazz." Jasper sat up from his place positioned between my legs. I knew I wasn't talking to Jazz. It was Jasper who always touched me so securely; touched me so intimately.
Ironically, his weight gone from my body made it harder for me to breathe. I sat up from my position. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling as he tensed his muscles. I dared not look into his eyes. I wasn't ready to see the hurt that was there. I stroked his body from above his shirt.
"Please, Jacob, let me . . ." Jasper began but never finished. He placed his hands over mine, stopping the motion I was making on his chest. His touch was so rough against my skin. He seemed to be so hot, the feel of the heat touching my body and soul. It wasn't until I felt the slow thumping of his heart that I realized were my hand, our hand, was on his chest. I looked to our joined hands. His fingers were weaved between mine creating alternating colors of brown and cream.
I felt the warm water as it began its trail down my cheek. I was more afraid to look up at the man who had done something deep inside of me. I couldn't deny any longer what it was that Jasper touched in me: my heart. There was no putting out the flames he awoke in my soul. I loved him. The nameless thing I wanted to hide a way was love and the evidence of it ran a cooling trail down my face. Jasper didn't want me to hide it.
Jasper lifted my chin. I was preparing myself for when he got up, ran away from the emotional man in his arms. I loved him but I couldn't say the words. Jasper looked at the water that left my body. Both eyes empting out the love that I had managed to ignore; my cheeks a soaking mess of emotions.
"I love you too, Jacob," Jasper whispered. I had no time to react to his words that both breathe life into me and took my breath way all at the same time.
"Jas—," was all I whispered before he was upon me.
What was between us—clothes, unspoken words, goodbyes—were all put to the side. Every touch had a new meaning. Every moan was a start of a conversation that needed to be had. It was Jasper that prepared my body meticulously, his lips never leaving mine. It was Jasper whose hands searched every inch of my skin. I wondered if he was committing me to memory much as I was him. And it was Jasper who pushed slowly, deeply into my body. My body arched in desire to find a way to be taken even deeper. I needed the light that was Jasper to fill me to the brim, giving me something to live off of when he would no longer be waiting for me outside my door. I felt more than just his arms wrapped around me and his cock pushing against that bump that sent shivers down my body. I felt the love that he whispered to me. My eyes, needing to take in his beauty, found his tear streaked face. I watched his face as I reached heights my body never known.
The hours ticked by and our bodies never released each other. We were a tangle mass of limbs and touches. Throughout the night something in the both of us reminded our connected souls that we would soon be apart. Once it was I who woke Jasper with the need to have him. I swallowed his cock, as he without hesitation took my hair into his hands to guide my actions. Than it was him who rocked my body from behind, never asking permission; never needing too. And yet a final time where there was no clue to who awoke who; who needed who the most. There was just the desire to feel him, for him to feel me; for us to join and never fucking forget. There were always tears that we never dried from the other's face.
The morning had come despite my prayers through the night. I lay across the bed, uncovered from our multiple romps in the night. Jasper sat on the side of the bed, pulling on his last boot. He moved slower than any other morning and it warmed me to know he didn't want to leave any more than I wanted to see him go. My finger traced the hard raised lines of the tattoo across his back and side. I started recreating the tattoo beneath my fingers at the strand of the web still attached to the beautiful spider. I followed the lines around each web, only lifting my fingers to start the next path. I traced from the smallest web to the largest. Jasper didn't move.
"Entrapped," I said as I finished the final line.
Jasper quickly turned to look at me. Confusion and hurt was wrapped around his eyes and slowly changed to being blank. I could see the wheels turning in his mind but never did he say anything, never questioning my word. Jasper took my hand in his, the very hand that could still feel the ink it had invisibly drawn on his skin. He stroked my hand, before laying it on the pillow beside me.
Jasper picked up his shirt and BloodLust Rider jacket, walked out of the door and never looked back.
The tears began again. I knew these tears didn't just come from my eyes that watched the love of my life walk away. These tears came from that very place I refused to give a name to but now recognized as love.
There was no hiding the red eyes that accompanied me to the bar that night. I played it off as just being tired; all the late nights catching up to me. They all believed me because none of them knew me. Only one person knew I was dying inside.
The bar was filled with nothing but BloodLust Riders. It wasn't uncommon. I sat behind the bar, nursing a beer. I hoped Jasper had already left and I wouldn't have to see him again. If I saw him than I would lose it and there was no fucking guarantees that it could wait until I made it back to my lonely ass bed. I would lose it in the middle of a damn biker bar with a bunch of people who didn't fucking know me. Yet, each time the prayer left my lips and I tried to pull it back, telling myself that any humiliation and ridicule would be worth seeing him, touching him, one last time. The last prayer was answered.
I didn't have to look up from the spot on the bar I had fixated on to know it was him. I heard the taps of the boots that I had removed for him on so many nights. I could smell his scent of earth and sun. The scent still lingered on the sheets I had wrapped myself in during the day as I mourned his goodbye. I couldn't miss the breath that was slowly pulled out of me as my life joined with his outside of my body. The feeling was unnerving and yet so fucking freeing that I yearned for it. I looked up to see not the eyes of Jasper but of Jazz. They were cold, empty and yet foggy. For a moment I wondered if this wasn't Jazz but Jasper in the same emptiness that I was in. Maybe that was the main difference in Jazz and Jasper: a lonely heart and a loved one.
The evening was young and drinks were flowing fast from the bar. I wish I hadn't noticed that Jazz wasn't drinking; it only verified that he would be leaving that night. He would be taking a large piece of me with him. The BloodLust Riders were loud as ever. Many chased biker bitches around the bar playfully, sexual innuendos and flat out declaration of who would be fucking who mingled in with the talk of business. I tried at all cost to avoid his eye, needing to begin the task of acting as if he never existed, as if I never knew what it was like to be in his embrace.
"Alright soldiers, quite the fuck down," James screamed over the place. The silence that fell was a testament to his leadership over the gang. "I fucking hated when I have to do this shit. Every fucking time he turns my offer down and it fucking breaks my heart. Jazz, you shit head you will always be a BloodLust. Tell me what the fuck I gotta say to make your sorry ass stay?"
The same question was sitting on my lips. I was bitter that James got to ask the very question of Jazz, that I needed to ask of Jasper. I looked up wanting to see the look in his eyes, wanting to hear the answer for myself.
"James, man you know I love you; all of you," Jazz said as he stood to his feet going to James side. "I will rep BloodLust with pride where ever the damn hog takes me, but there ain't shit for me here man. I much prefer the wind. Sorry commander."
Jazz could have kept talking but I heard nothing else after his declaration of nothing being there for him. That shit included me. I was sick to my damn stomach and trapped in a bar having to pretend that I didn't just fucking die all over again inside. All of it was a lie. The late nights. The hard fucks. The soft kisses. The control he yields over me. The love he whispered to me. I was just what I thought I was all along, his Arizona fling. Somehow he had managed to make me the fool I swore never to be.
"Oh, damn man. Those fucking words hurt," Jams confessed as he wrapped his arms around Jazz's shoulder. Again, I wanted to growl hearing James say the words I needed to. "I get it though, man. Really I do. While you out there, keep that Lust pure. You fucking hear me?" James' words started the rounds of "hell yeah" and "show ya' right."
"So we lift our glasses," clinking filled the bar, "to our brother in arms. Not behind us, but with us always. Keep that hog hot Jazz and your spot is right here whenever you're ready for it." James words of biker passion started the BloodLust into their signature howl.
I watched as Jazz howled back. He walked through the bar hugging his comrades, kissing biker wives as they made him promise to hurry back. Jealousy filled me. I couldn't even fucking say goodbye to him. No one knew of our relationship; of what we shared. A little bit more of me broke off. I could hear the shattering of my heart as it fell away.
The goodbyes seemed to go by too quickly and I fucking needed him to stay. To stay to the night was over; to meet me at my door. To tell me goodbye the way only our bodies could say the words.
Jazz walked towards the door, crossing in front of the bar. I couldn't help but watch him as he walked out of my life forever. My heart felt as if I would never see him again. Just as he passed the last stool he turned to face me.
"Are you fuckin' coming or what?"
His words weren't loud but enough that a hush fell over the rambunctious group. Everyone turned to see who Jazz was addressing. The air in the room stilled and the temperature seemed to blaze even more than what the Arizona heat had gotten me accustom to.
"Jacob, is he talking to you?" Lauren broke the silence, her words even louder than what Jazz had been.
I turned to look at her face in panic. I felt like I was out-ed right there in a middle of a biker bar. I couldn't breathe. Jazz fully turned towards the bar, arms folded across his chest; his look as if he dared me to refuse him. My body wanted to run to him and let him take me away but I was frozen in fear and still hadn't taken a breath. I could feel everyone's eyes moving between the two of us, questioning.
"Jazz, what the fuck?" James slowly walked into the space that separated me from my lover.
"Don't fuckin' make me ask you again?" Jazz ignored James' question. My body was lit on fire from my lovers command. On instinct I lurched towards him and before my brain could over think I was in his arms, and at his side.
Jazz pressed his lips tenderly to mine before saying, "Ready to get out of here, Jake?"
"What about my stuff?"
"Fuck it. Leave it." Everyone listened, starred at what transpired between the two of us. "Ready?"
"I'm ready, Jasper." The foggy blue that walked into that bar only hours before was clearing right before my very eyes.
I tossed Walen, who was too open mouth, his keys. They bounced of his chest and land clanking on to the floor. The key to my Rabbit was on the link but it wasn't worth shit anyway. If he could fix it, sell it, than he could have it. I owed him as much for helping me all those months ago.
Jasper walked me out of the doors of Spartan, hand in hand; fingers locked together. I jumped on the back of Jasper's platinum, black, and crimson hog; wrapping my arms around him. I buried my face into his shoulder, re-centering my still shocked body.
"Don't let me go, alright?" I didn't know who was speaking to me Jazz or Jasper. I was happy to get to enjoy them both.
"Never; I promise that," I responded. His smile reached to his eyes.
He kicked started the bike, jerking us into motion. He never looked back, but I did. I didn't hear the patrons of the bar walk out behind us. They were dead silent as they watched our exchange. No one stopped us. No one questioned Jazz. No one spoke. They only stood there staring at us ride into the setting sun.
That shit was cliché but that is exactly what the fuck we did. The sun bright orange in front of us and with every turn of the tires, red earth was being kicked up behind us, removing the shocked patrons from my sight.
I turned my eyes forward, squeezing Jazz tighter, and laying my head back on his shoulder. Jasper leaned his head back onto mine. He took us closer and closer to nowhere but each other.
Arizona turned out not to be so fucking bad after all.