Screw

by Atlas, Lilly

  Glancing around into the quiet night, Gumby hesitated.

  “Do it,” Screw barked. If he didn’t get off and get Gumby off in the next few minutes he was going to self-destruct.

  Gumby’s eyes flared at the order. Hmm, looked like the other biker on the porch enjoyed being bossed around a little.

  File that under Useful Info.

  Yes, he was pushing Gumby out of his comfort zone and maybe that made him an ass, but he had no patience for closeted hookups. Hiding his sexuality had never been a thing for Screw. If it felt good, he did it. Why the fuck not? He got one go around on earth and didn’t plan to waste the time worrying over whether others approved of his sexual practices or not. Basically, he was game to try anything once, and if it felt good, he’d add it to his bag of tricks. More than one of his male partners had been surprised when he’d asked them to fuck him, assuming his whole alpha biker persona would make him a strict top.

  Stupid assumption. Getting nailed in the prostate felt fucking amazing. One of the best things in life. Why the hell wouldn’t he want it as often as he could get it?

  He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight of Gumby unveiling his dick. The man did basically the same maneuver Screw had done, making only enough room to free himself from the tight confines of his navy boxer briefs. Access to their cocks was all Screw needed. They wouldn’t fuck tonight. Not here on Jazz’s porch while she snoozed away inside. No, the first time they fucked she’d be present, right there with them, maybe between them.

  Guess that confirmed he wasn’t ready to leave.

  Fuck, getting any further involved with these two would be a huge mistake. Jazz would end up hurt when Screw inevitably bailed. He didn’t do fucking feelings and Jazz would want that at some point.

  But she’d have Gumby to catch her when Screw let her go. Maybe this could work. Could be the best of all worlds. For a little while, he’d play their third. Have some fun. Fuck. Then, once emotions crept in, he’d jump ship leaving Jazz and Gumby to the relationship garbage.

  If it was so easy, why did the idea of his two lovers comforting each other in his absence make him want to spit nails?

  “Hey,” Gumby said. “Where’d you go?”

  Screw blinked then shot Gumby his patented sassy grin. “Nowhere. But I’m about to climb onto your lap.”

  Gumby moved his hands aside. “By all means.”

  Once again, Screw sifted his fingers through the other man’s hair. Gumby’s eyes fluttered closed as a groan left his lips, but they popped back open when Screw gave a firm tug on the short strands.

  One at a time, Screw brought his knees up on the bench, on either side of Gumby. As he settled in, their dicks bumped, and sharp pleasure zapped him.

  “Fuck,” Gumby said through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah.” It’d been a while since he’d been with a man, and Screw had nearly forgotten how damn good it felt to rub his cock against another one.

  “You gonna jerk us off?” Gumby asked, his breathing growing erratic.

  “Nuh-uh. You are,” Screw said before nipping Gumby’s lower lip. His lover reacted as he’d hoped and fused their mouths together. Just as their kiss earlier had been, this was animalist in its intensity. They fought for dominance, for control, for anything to increase the pleasure. Every stroke of Gumby’s tongue against his might as well have been against his cock with the way it drove him higher.

  Was it a test? Maybe. Perhaps Screw needed to know Gumby was willing to touch him, pleasure him, be as lost in the wanting as he was. Because if Gumby couldn’t even fist their cocks, then it was over before it started. Gumby could pretend to the rest of the world that he didn’t like dick, but he sure as fuck would admit it to Screw.

  Within seconds, Screw was so desperate for release, he found himself grinding down on Gumby’s length to increase the friction. When the other man broke the kiss to let out a tortured groan, Screw said, “Wrap your hand around us. Jack us, Gumby, before I fucking die.”

  “Christ, Luke…”

  His name at that moment nearly brought the entire scene to an explosive and premature finish. Holy shit, who would have known hearing his given name could be such a fucking turn-on?

  Gumby brought his hand to his mouth and spit before bringing it down between their bodies. Why that act was so hot, Screw might never know. Maybe because it was so raw, primal, carnal. A product of their impatience and unwillingness to run inside and grab the packet of lube Screw had in his jacket pocket.

  Gumby’s wet hand curled around them. Both cocks fit perfectly in the cradle made by those long fingers. He wasted no time giving a firm tug to their aligned cocks.

  Screw’s head fell back on his shoulders. “Jesus,” he whispered.

  “You approve?” Gumby asked, humor in his ragged voice.

  “Fuck yes. Give me more. Work us, Gumby.” He bracketed Gumby with his hands holding the top of the bench on either side of his head.

  With a little rumble in his chest, Gumby started to stroke them in earnest. As his fist coasted up and down their cocks, Screw kissed him, fighting to keep his eyes from crossing at the power of the pleasure.

  They alternated between wild, unrestrained kisses and breaks filled with groans and curses. Gumby’s strokes sped up, calluses rasping over their tender skin in a way that had Screw thrusting into the man’s hand as he sought even more contact.

  “Goddamnit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Gumby said as he began to ease up on the pressure.

  “Don’t you fucking stop,” Screw warned. “I’m right there with you.” He closed his hand over Gumby’s, increasing the pressure to near strangling as he rocked back and forth in their grip.

  They strained against each other, hands flying over their cocks as they humped into their joined fists.

  “Now, now, now,” Screw yelled. “Fucking give it to me.”

  The muscles in Gumby’s neck corded as his head fell back on his shoulders. He let out a horse shout then warm liquid spilled over their hands. The sensation was all Screw needed to propel him into an orgasm so powerful his vision blurred. “Fuck!” he yelled, coating their fingers with even more cum.

  It took a few moments for the tremors to cease, but when they did, Screw once again became aware of the cold. Might have had something to do with the cooling cum all over them.

  “Shit, Luke,” Gumby said as he ran his clean hand through his hair. “That was…”

  “Yeah.” He paused as they took a second to stare at each other then said, “I like it when you call me that.”

  The almost shy smile Gumby gave him had him chuckling.

  “You gonna blush, biker?”

  “Nah. Don’t think it’s possible after that.” Gumby grabbed the blanket he’d been enveloped in. The one that slid from his shoulders the moment Screw climbed in his lap. With a serious expression, he used the covering to clean both their sticky hands. “We probably need to talk about all this with Jazz.”

  Blowing out a breath, Screw nodded. “Yeah. You know if she’s working tomorrow?”

  With his own nod, Gumby said, “She is. All day. Maybe tomorrow night we can meet here. Grab a pizza, have some beer, and just chill.”

  Fuck that sounded domestic. But it also sounded…nice. A night to just hang with the two people who turned him on the most and whose company he actually enjoyed. There were worse ways to pass an evening.

  “Sur—aw, fuck, I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got a…thing I gotta take care of.”

  “Club shit?”

  Screw turned his head, gazing at Jeremy’s dark house. The guy was bound to pop over with questions after the way they gave him the supreme brush off earlier. “Something like that.”

  He must have done a shitty job of keeping the guilt out of his voice because Gumby said, “What the fuck’s going on, Luke?”

  Damn him for using Screw’s true name. Made it seem more than a hookup. His own damn fault for giving the name to Gumby in a weak and sex-crazed moment.

  “T
his have anything to do with what Copper was ranting at you about the other day?”

  Fuck. Sharing club business wasn’t allowed, Gumby would know that, but since he already planned to break the rules…

  Fuck it. He trusted Gumby. Stupid perhaps, but true.

  “I got invited to a party at the Chrome Disciples clubhouse tomorrow night.”

  Wide-eyed, Gumby straightened. “What the fuck? That’s the club Jazz and I ran into at the gas station, right? The fuckers who almost kidnapped your president’s ol’ lady.”

  Screw raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been paying attention.”

  “This shit affects Jazz. Fuck yeah, I’m paying attention. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going against Copper’s wishes.”

  “Fair enough. Look, they don’t know who I am. I ran into a prospect and chatted him up. He thinks I’m some businessman who has a hard-on for bikes. Guy told me about the party. This is the perfect fucking way to get inside and see what the fuck their operation is, how big they are, how serious they are about fucking our shit up.”

  “And Copper shot you down.”

  “Copper blew me out of the fucking sky.”

  Stroking his face, which looked like it hadn’t been shaven in a day or two, Gumby stared Screw straight in the eye. “You’re going anyway?”

  “Thinking about it.” He ran his hand over the enticing stubble. Rough against his palm, he’d love to feel it on the ultra-sensitive skin of his balls. Too bad that would probably never happen. Usually men who were terrified to admit they liked cock weren’t sucking it every other day.

  “Fuck.”

  “You ain’t gonna try to talk me out of it?” He gave Gumby a half smile.

  Gumby shook his head with a smirk. “Pretty sure it wouldn’t do any good. Besides, I agree with you. It’s your club’s best chance at getting some serious intel.”

  “Okay, so you’ll keep Jazz company tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, she’s got a thing with her girls. I forgot about it when I made the offer to hang.”

  Excellent, that would keep him off her radar. “Good, that’s good. Just make sure you get her there and take her home.”

  Another headshake. “They’re meeting here. And I’m coming with you, so we’ll need to make sure the girls are covered by your club.”

  “What? No, Gumby—”

  He lifted a hand. “Shut the fuck up, Screw. No way in hell are you walking into enemy territory on your own and without the backing of your club. Have you considered you might be walking into a trap?”

  There they were talking while he sat on Gumby’s lap, their dicks still out, lying limp and sated between them. The scene was entirely too comfortable, entirely too…relationshipy. If Screw hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Gumby actually cared about him. “Of course I’ve considered it’s a trap. We need to move on these guys before they get another chance to fuck with us, so it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Gumby’s chest rose and fell as he sighed. Too bad it was winter and freezing. Screw would have loved to peel Gumby out of his clothing and lick the man all over. All those long, lean, ropy muscles.

  “Then it’s a risk we take together.”

  “Why? This isn’t your club. Isn’t your problem. I know you care about Jazz, but—.”

  “This isn’t just about Jazz. It’s about you, Luke. You need someone at your back. You know it. Don’t be stupid. Let me be that man. I mean, let me be your backup at the party. Two sets of eyes are always better than one,” he rushed on, but it was too late, Screw hadn’t missed the emotion in Gumby’s voice.

  Let me be that man.

  The words touched a part of Screw he kept hidden under a heavy pile of jokes and sarcasm. Just when he needed that part of himself the most, to keep from letting Gumby’s words worm their way into his heart, it failed him. Instead of making some shitty comment, he fucking kissed Gumby.

  “Couldn’t think of a better man for the job.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  GUMBY NAVIGATED THE increasingly familiar roads, racking his brain for something to say. Unfortunately, all he could do was recall the two mind-blowing sexual encounters of the previous night, and it certainly wasn’t the time for that discussion. He didn’t even know how he felt about what happened between the three of them and then between him and Screw on the porch. Shit, just the memory of it had him at half chub. Clearly his body knew where it stood. His brain on the other hand…yeah, a big fucking mess.

  Then there was his heart. The damn confounding organ that had suffered with each word of Jazz’s story only to be soothed and mended by Screw. Now, his heart clenched with a warm yet terrifying feeling whenever he thought of either of his two lovers.

  Not the time.

  Instead of coming up with anything profound to break the tension, he risked a quick glance at the man seated beside him in the cab of the truck. Though the truck belonged to Screw, one glance at the man when he’d arrived had been all it took for Gumby to realize he’d need to drive.

  Screw was…antsy to say the least.

  After another few minutes of maddening silence, he pulled over to the side of the darkened road. They had another three miles to go until they reached their destination.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Screw blinked and swiveled toward Gumby. “Huh? Why’d we stop? Something wrong with the truck?”

  Wow, he really had been out of it. “Nah, just checking in. You seem…” How to say it without offending the man or sounding like a concerned boyfriend.

  Which he was not and never would be.

  “Seem what?”

  “Off.” Gumby shrugged.

  Screw looked smokin’ hot in dark black jeans, a nicer quality than he seemed to typically sport, and a charcoal Henley. No leather, chains, or rings. The outfit hovered somewhere between biker and plain casual. Perfect to portray the persona of someone curious about the MC culture but not quite part of the in crowd. Gumby had dressed similarly in dark wash denim and a simple black T-shirt. Biker boots completed both of their looks.

  “Just getting my head in the game.”

  “Nah, it’s more than that. You’re…”

  Screw raised an eyebrow as though daring Gumby to insult him.

  “I don’t know you well, but you’re a big personality. Always laughing, joking…inappropriate. Tonight, you’re just…” He lifted a hand from the wheel with a shrug.

  “Oh, well, that’s clear as fucking mud. You’re real smooth with the words. If I were fucking you right now, we wouldn’t even need lube, you’re so fucking slick.”

  Shit, the thought of being pinned down while Screw fucked him had him clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. He’d never gone there before but couldn’t deny the interest.

  “There you are,” Gumby said with a smirk. “Nice of you to finally join me, but how about you get real and tell me what’s fucking your head up.”

  Screw grunted. “You complain I’m too serious and now you’re saying I’m too much of a smartass. Make up your goddamned mind.”

  “I don’t want to make up my mind so you can act like you think I want you to act.”

  “So what the fuck do you want?” Screw slammed his hands on the dashboard then left them there as his head dropped to meet them.

  “I guess I want you, the real you to tell me what’s going on in your head. We’re taking a risk tonight. I’m here, and I’ve got your back. I need to know you’ve got mine too, cuz if shit goes south…”

  If shit went south, they were fucked, and not in the way he’d been fantasizing about seconds ago. In a shit-they’re-going-to-pull-out-my-toenails kinda way.

  “So, you can’t admit you want me, even when your dick is in my mouth, but you want me to spill my guts to you?” Screw spat the accusation across the interior of the truck.

  Was this fucker for real? Gumby shifted the car into drive. Here he was risking his ass to back Screw up and the bastard wanted to talk abo
ut why Gumby didn’t look in his eyes while Screw was blowing him. “You know what? Fuck you, Screw.”

  Before he could take his hand off the gear shift, Screw’s closed over it. Though the other man stared straight out the windshield, Gumby knew where his attention lay. With a sigh, he shoved the car into park.

  Screw removed his hand, still looking out into the dark night. “My mom was a stripper. Sometimes a whore when money was tight. We grew up not far from here in a town even smaller than Townsend. Her strip club was a real seedy joint. Fucking sad-ass, has been strippers with droopy tits and drug habits. Velvet carpets probably loaded with cum from years of nasty fuckers jacking off right there in the bar. Shit lighting, shittier acoustics.”

  As his heart clenched for the difficult childhood Screw must have endured, he nodded. “I know the type.”

  “Yeah. Well, the bouncer was the uncle of a kid I went to high school with. By the time we were thirteen, he was letting the fucker and his buddies sneak in the back and watch the shows. Made my life at school…uncomfortable.”

  Having kids at school know what your mother looked like naked and shakin’ her tits on stage? Yeah that’d make life for a high school boy difficult. Add in the fact said boy was bisexual, and Screw musta had a time of it.

  “Fuck,” Gumby said.

  His passenger huffed out a laugh then finally turned his head, looking straight at Gumby. “I was into boys and girls with a mom giving lap dances to my classmates. Yeah, it fucking sucked.” He shrugged as though it hadn’t shaped his entire adult life. “But I survived it.”

  Tilting his head, Gumby said, “By never letting anyone think you took shit seriously. By making them think it wasn’t possible to get to you.”

  With a nod, Screw chuckled. “I was such a shit. Pranks, mouthing off to everyone, even more of a smart ass than I am now. I dedicated my teenage years to not giving a fuck and making everyone laugh with my outrageous behavior.”

  “Screwball,” Gumby said as the meaning behind the name became obvious.

  Another nod. “My mom’s favorite thing to call me when she was pissed over my antics.”