Chapter Six

 

Gabe

 

Fuckenhell, that was hott. Listening to Evan did something to me. I’ve never come so fast in my life. Maybe because I wasn’t purposely trying to hold back this time.

Twisting the deadbolt, I’m outta here an hour later, finally. I was beginning to think that time was ticking backward. Straddling across my Vulcan 900, I kick the stand and crank her up. The anticipation of seeing him again revs me. It’s only a few blocks until I hit Evan’s street, then maybe I can chill for a few and enjoy a decent, hand-made meal. It’s been forever since I had one of those. We decided to give his leg a day off from tatting and just toss back a couple of brews and veg out.

I pull up outside his charcoal gray, brick mailbox, kick the stand to the pavement, and shut her down, snagging the keys out of the ignition, and shove them in my back pocket. Heading up the sidewalk to his front door, I try not to look as anxious as I really am.

This man really gets to me. I can’t get enough of him. I come over to tatt him up and it happens, along with so many other things in just a matter of a few days alone with him. I never let people in that quick, it’s not in my nature. So why can’t I get him out of my head now? It’s dangerous for me to fall hard and trust like this.

Knocking several times, no one answers, so I make my way to the side of the house and round the corner to his back yard, via the driveway. There’s that ‘sexier than fucking sin’ man, baring a pair of jeans hanging just below his hip bones, unbuttoned and sagging. Delicious! Evan’s stirring the coals inside the backyard pit on his deck. His hair is still wet from the shower.

“Hey,” I holler out to him, over the grayish-white picket gateway entrance.

“Perfect timing, come on in, Gabe. Grab me a couple pieces of cedar chips if you don’t mind. My hands are a bit busy at the moment.” Evan waves me inside, using a poker with a piece of steak hanging off the end. I crack up laughing. He points at the small cut wood chips. No need to tell me twice.

The crotch of my pants tighten as I near him. Damn this man, off goes my self-restraint issues right off the bat, now to tame the monster growing beneath my leathers. That thing is like one of those old metal twisty toys. It comes with a metal box and a handle. You hold it by the handle and spin it around and the pictures on the box part blend together and it makes a weird rattling noise. My cock does that when around him, spins itself stupid and makes me mumble strange noises along with uncontrollable body movements.

Quick, refocus…change the subject, get me out of my own head and definitely calm that spark surging through my cock before I end up on all fours yelping like a dog, and following him around lapping at his ankles. Or trying to dry hump his leg.

“Why are you wearing jeans, for fucks sake, don’t you know this is going to rub you freaking raw from the artwork on your leg?” I’m gonna be pissed if it’s messed up.

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Gabe, come out here in the buff to grill? It’s a bit on the nipply side. Plus, after this weekend, there’s not much of me left that isn’t rubbed raw.”

“Hey, works for me.” Oh shit… I didn’t just say that. “Okay lollipop, here’s the deal, you now wear my signature on your skin. Let’s represent it properly, not some smeared up, scabby version of it. Deal?”

“Understood. Can you help me?”

Evan, that man…yummmm! Lick-a-fuckin-licious. There’s no other way to describe him.

He’s inviting me, and God fucking knows it takes every little bit of me to refrain from him. I slowly stalk up behind him, leaning forward a bit, crisscrossing my hands behind my back, and snug against him. Fuck, he’s smells delectable.

Running my nose along his nape like a wolf ready to savor him, sniffing his scent, especially under his hairline and then along his neck, I lick out at his earlobe, knowing he likes it. Or he seemed to last night. His body shakes in a bout of quivers, and chills erupt across his tan skin. He backs up, pushing his ass against me. Shit a fucking brick! My cock starts to throb and before I know it, I’m hardening so fast I must be setting world records somewhere.

I reach forward, poking the wood chips down the grates on the grill, then refocus, by curling my arms around his waist.

Evan reaches back, gliding his calloused hands up and down my forearms. His palms are soft on the inside, yet rough around the edges. I love that, so manly. Nothing like feeling a hard-working mans’ hands gently stroking against you.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head today, Evan,” I whisper in his left ear, as I give him a gentle lick. Tossing my head back, I devour the taste of his salty, yet sweet skin against my tongue. He’s sooo irresistible. He scares me!

“Me either, Gabe, but…ummm…I kinda gave that away by answering the phone earlier, huh?”

“I didn’t mind a bit.” I nibble at his lobe again, grazing my teeth gently across it.

 “You were patient and easy with me, which I greatly appreciate. You showed me something that makes me want to explore more, so much more, but…it makes me nervous.” Evan curls his head back into my neck, flicking his tongue across it, then turns to face me, smiles and traces down the side of my throat, licking over my Adam’s apple. Fucking hotness!

“You don’t need to be nervous around me, not ever, but also don’t rush it if you’re not comfortable with it. Just let it happen. If it feels good, then enjoy it, and quit trying to decipher everything and make it make sense. Some things just never make sense in the world, they just feel right and good,” I mumble, trying to encourage him, yet comfort him at the same time. God, he makes my head spin in circles and I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. “Ummm…” I’m not sure how to steer this conversation with him now.

Reaching over my head, I pull my shirt off and toss it to the ground behind us, then snake up against his body again. Slightly gliding my open palms across his bronze waistline. The touch of his skin, warm from the BBQ pit is inviting. Enticing, such a smooth perfection. My cock twitches behind the leathers and is about to burst through the lead zippers, teeth made of metal sharpness, and become a bloody pulp if I don’t free myself soon.

Evan guides his hand behind him, instinctively finding the bulge from my dick, and grabs a hold of me, like he read my mind. Bold move on his behalf. I like that.

“Ooooh…Gabe. Shit, you’re so freaking hard…” He quickly finds the button and undoes me, releasing the tension just below my hip bones, leaving only the zipper to go.

“Oh yeah, baby, you found me all right, and it feels good, keep going...please.” I push against him, then curl into him, lowering my hands, trickling both forefingers along his waistband, dipping one lower just to swipe across the slit in his cock, feeling the pre-cum gloss across him as he swells for me. With my thumb, I rub the tip of his cock in circles of his own juices.

Evan shimmies his body back against me, while still trying to wiggle out of his jeans. What a fucking hottie he is. With his every move and grind, there’s no way in hell I could ever let this moment go. Shit, I’ve been horny all damn day long thinking about him.

With one hand, he’s clasping and grabbing at me. Evan wiggles his jeans down each side of him, seductively rolling them over each hip bone, side to side, grinding back into me with each tug, swaying and so full of need and passion. GOD, I fucking want this man so much, again and then again over. Evan’s not trying to rush, but desperate to be felt. I’ve created a monster of perfection. I plan on delivering exactly what he needs.

This is getting real dangerous for me, I never do this kind of crap. Get close, show emotions. He does something to me that’s never been done before.

I reach to the front of him, as he latches onto my cock with a grip-hold of a vice clamp, and edges those pants down to his ankles. The lower I go, the harder he pumps my cock, making sure the head of my dick touches him just as he does.

His desire is driving me to the ends of the earth.

My fucking God, how can a man be so enticing to me the way he is? I want to open my soul to him and just pour out, but refrain…and why, I have no clue.

I lower myself to my knees behind him and give him baby pecks and nibbles to his majestic ass cheeks, then decide to slick my tongue between them.

“Oh fuckkkk yes, Gabe. Feels good.” He turns his head and looks over his shoulder watching me. His fingers wind in my hair and he yanks through the tangles, and then gently shoves back harder to me, so I delve deeper.

I grin, then tease my tongue and trickle it between him, spreading him apart, licking and salving him up for me. I want, no…I need to be inside of him again, to feel his muscles clench and spasm around my cock, the way he did before. To hear him moan, swallow it as he does, then feel him cut loose and give in. To tighten around me. To wear me the same way he wears my ink on his skin.

“Evan, fuckenhell, you are driving me insane right now. I have so many things I want to show you, to teach you, to instruct and guide you on.”

“Enlighten me,” he spouts off and all I can do is wonder what the fuck I just got myself into with this man.

I spread him apart, and lick around his hole, rimming him, as a moan rumbles through his body and comes out like an angel singing.

“Oh yeah, baby, do that for me again.” I peel one leg from his jeans to free him and side swipe the other leg out of the way, before tapping the inside of his calf muscle to spread his legs.

He follows non-verbal orders very well.

Breeching him, I delve inside, in and out and his grip tightens in my hair so hard, I might end up bald by the time this is over. I move my hand between his legs and feel the raging boner he has and can’t resist stroking him.

“Gabe, stop. I mean no, don’t. I mean…hell if I know what I even mean. My god, this feels so damn good.” Evan pushes back again watching me over his shoulder with those sultry eyes.

I love the way they gloss over in the heat of passion.

I trickle my fingers over his nuts and stroke him hard, knowing he’s close to coming by the gasps in his words.

“Almost there, baby? Come for me.”

I furiously pump and wind him up until his legs shake uncontrollably, he tightens around me and squirts in my hand, releasing his seed.

“Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my God, Gabe. Is there anything you don’t know how to do?” He tries to stand and almost trips on his pants leg.

“Steady there, I don’t think grilled pecker was on the menu for tonight, was it?”

“Smart ass. I can barely stand, my heart’s about to pound right out of my chest and my ears are ringing, and you make jokes about charcoaled cock?”

I burst out laughing at him, as I make my way up him and hold him steady for a few minutes, so the blood can all rush back to its designated spots.

“Good evening, Evan. What’s for dinner tonight? Smells great,” a voice from the other side of the fence yells through.

I jump straight up, fastening myself and Evan quickly jerks his pants up, then turns to face me while he zips up. We both grin at each other, trying to stifle our laughs.

“Nothing like being caught with your pants down, is there?”

“Close call,” he whispers. “Way too close.”

We both laugh.

“Evening, Graham. Just grilling a few steaks, burgers, and some sausage for me and a friend, my tattoo guy, I might have mentioned to you. Want to join us for a cold one? Bring a plate, there’s plenty of food here.” He glances back at me shaking his head no, then shrugs his shoulders like he has no choice but to be neighborly.

“Sure, give me a minute and I’ll be over,” the voice hollers back.

 “No problem.”

Great! So much for kicking back and chilling out. I’m about to be interviewed. Once people find out you do tattoos, they want to know all kinds of questions. It’s like an interrogation.

What made you decide to go into your field of work? Do the ideas just pop in your head? Do tattoos really hurt or why do people do this to their bodies? Makes me want to go smart ass with them. Why do you want to manage a bank, just like robbing people? Why start a construction company, were your parent’s poor? People assume many things and stereo type others, yet when they need you, you suddenly rock.

“You all right? Graham won’t stay to long, he never does. He pretty much keeps to himself now days. He and his wife just got divorced, she took damn near everything from him, except for the house. Even took his kid, so he’s a bit lost and lonely, trying to find himself again.” Evan flips the meat on the pit again.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just not a very social person outside of work, ya know?” I mumble.

“Would you do me a favor please? Go into the house, grab a platter from beneath the stove so I can get this food off the grill when time. Oh, and grab us a beer too while you’re at it.” Evan stands tall and sexy, but actually instructs me on how to handle things in his home.

I respectfully nod and turn for the house.

“Grab the pack of hamburger buns off the kitchen counter as well. Please.”

“Really, you must be starving?” I laugh and head toward the double glass sliding doors. “You’re cooking enough to feed troops here.”

“You sort of work up an appetite in a man.” He flashes that sinfully sexy grin at me.

I glance around his kitchen and notice how detailed and organized he is. Everything is spotless and has a place or a nook and cranny to slide it into. I could use that kind of help at the Twisted Cherry. I’m spot on in the cleanliness department, and having the important stuff sterilized and placed in the bins, but as for organization…not so much. My files are a wreck, I have receipts that would blow up like snowflakes if breathed on too heavily and whatnot. It’s not that I don’t like nice and tidy, I just have a hard time with it is all. I work so many hours that I’m far too exhausted by the end of the day to care.

I don’t sleep much, a few hours a night, because I have that phobia about someone barging in on me, and still have those dreams about my family and that night my life shifted from happy to ‘what the fuck just happened’ and was an orphan with no parents. I’ve never been able to shake those off.

Grabbing everything, I think, I walk back out. “Here you go, Evan. Did I get everything?” I ask.

“Perfect…now take a break, Gabe. You’ve been on your feet all day, so go kick back in the lounge chair and relax. Kick your boots off and stay a while.” Evan points to his perfectly conditioned lawn furniture on his patio deck.

“I can help you cook.”

“Are you kidding me, this is my Zen mode here. I love cooking, it’s calming and relaxing for me. It’s my comfort zone.”

Graham approaches the picket gate. “Knock, knock.”

“Come on in. Gabe, this is Graham, Graham…Gabe.”

We both shake hands. “Good to meet you.”

“Same to you.”

This guy looks nothing like I thought he would. I expected him to be some middle aged, nerdy business worker or something, but he’s huge, sleeved out in tatts. Cool beans. You can read the pain throughout his face. His eyes try to stay emotionally unattached to anything because he’s been raked through the coals by the gold-digger wife, but he tries to put on a friendly smile to cover it up. Almost reminds me of…well, me.

“How’s everything been going, Evan?” Graham walks over to him, pats him on the back, then grabs a beer off the tray I brought out. After twisting the bottle top off, he nods his head to each of us and tips the bottle toward us asking us if we want one, without using the words. Evan and I both nod yes, so he gets it for us before sitting down in the lounge chair and taking a sip.

“Same shit, different day, Graham. Didn’t play with the band this weekend, just too wiped, plus I was getting my new tatt. It took forever, lots of details, and still not done yet, just needed a little break from it. Figured the least I could do was feed the artist a bite or two.”

“No shit, when do I get to see it?” Graham takes a swig of his beer.

“Once it’s healed. Might take a little longer than usual, it’s huge and the details are incredible.”

“Yeah, what is it?” Graham turns to look at me.

“Well, it’s Maori to be exact, with blends of Polynesian mixed through it. Lots of different blocks and spirals, and a bit on the tribal side. It’s bad-ass, but it’s custom designed and sized to fit Evan perfectly. One of a kind. I’m pretty proud of it, if you haven’t noticed.” I pat myself on the back and laugh.

I head over to the chair and sit down then collapse back into recliner mode, and debate on taking my boots off. I’m wiped out beyond words now. Last night was a big one and I’m running on an hour and a half of sleep in the last three days. Exhausted to say the least, and this adrenaline feed of energy I’ve had is scaling at zero now. My back’s stiff and I can hardly feel my feet anymore, but bending forward to even undo the laces and metal clips seems like a chore right now, so I’ll get to that in a few minutes. I take a huge gulp of ice cold beer and set it on the lawn table.

I cock my arms behind my neck and lean back, popping my neck from side to side, then let my lids close for just a second.

Dreams haunt me, like they usually do at least one time a night, they have since that night when I was seven and lost my parents. I relive it nightly and don’t know how to shake it. I jerk myself awake. Rubbing my eyes, I see it’s dark now. Where am I, wait, what’s happening? I sit straight up out of the chair into a standing position, when Evan rushes over to me. Out of breath, I push him off me.

“Gabe, are you okay?” He gently caresses my face with the back of his knuckles.

Turning to look at him, with a bewildered expression I’m sure, I slap his hand away from me. I’m not used to being touched without being fully aware of what’s going on and my surroundings. “Just give me a minute alright?” I snap at him, then run my hand through my hair and brush the sweat off my brow with my forearm.

Evan walks away, like I just broke his heart.

As I slow my breathing, my heart paces back to a normal rhythm, instead of trying to burst straight through my skin and I notice the sun has already set for the evening, and I missed every bit of it. Especially spending it with Evan. Not that he knows I wanted to do that, but it still comes up all flesh in the pond. I just completely fucked that up with my attitude now. I need to jet and get back to my comfort zone. Home.

“I gotta go, Evan. Please don’t ask me about this, I just have to get out of here.” I fish the keys out of my front pocket and stomp my way to the gate and let myself out, heading for my bike. No explanation given.

Why should I, I hardly know the man. Though I’d love to get to know him more, it’s too late. This is why I ride solo and always will. How would I ever explain I have Mommy/Daddy issues and expect someone to understand them.

When I make it to the front and straddle across the seat, Evan stands behind the glass front door…watching me.

I never give him a second look…it’s time to roll now and save him from my pain.

I keep people at an arms’ length distance for this very reason, I come with pain and hurt that I can’t even explain, so why would I toss that on someone else’s plate and expect them to just be okay with it?

I wouldn’t.