Thirds: Inked 2

by SE Jakes

  Aleks had tried it. Liked it too, just not enough to have one permanently attached to him. To many fucking rules, too much yes sir and no sir for his tastes. He'd watched the scene, didn't mind playing, but any relationship didn't sound great to him. Getting close to anyone wasn't on his to-do list. He had Vann and now Con and Quinn, who were cool and looked after him.

  He told Con, "I've got all the entanglements I can handle at the moment."

  "Famous last words," Quinn murmured as he came up to claim Con and rescue Aleks.

  Quinn guided Con upstairs to their apartment. They really had taken over the majority of the building, and although they lived together it was nice that they had a space to live and a separate place to play, complete with Con’s pool table.

  "Think I freaked Aleks out?" Con asked, the smirk still on his face.

  "Maybe a little. He and Brogan had some serious chemistry going," Quinn said, stretching out his shoulder a little—he'd had a long week of tattooing. "A blind man could've seen it."

  Con moved to stand behind him and began to rub his shoulder. "Now it's up to Aleks to do something about it. Nab himself a rich man."

  "Right. Just like you found your sugar daddy?" Quinn teased, then groaned as Con hit the right spot.

  "No joke—I did," Con snarked, then got serious. "Aleks is quiet. A good guy. Quiet."

  "You said that," Quinn pointed out.

  "Bears repeating. Quiet equals dangerous. Guy's definitely dangerous."

  "To who?"

  "Anyone he considers an enemy."

  Quinn looked over his shoulder and blinked. "Glad we're not on that list."

  Con murmured against his cheek, "I'm definitely not. But don't worry, daddy—I'll protect you."

  "You definitely need a beating."

  Con smiled. "And you're just the man to give it to me. So what are you waiting for?"

  Chapter Two

  Aleks finished up his last job, simple initials on the inside of a woman's wrist (her kid's, not a lover, because Aleks wouldn't have done it—that was the kiss of death to any and all relationships and he'd been the one doing the cover-ups for people who hadn't listened to his advice) and he left work and walked the two blocks to his own building. He'd left his bike in the lot there so he didn't take up street parking, plus it allowed him to prowl the area and keep an eye on anything that looked irregular.

  He'd been on high alert since last year, when Vann had done his part of the job. They'd wanted to leave time in between, which left Aleks maybe too much of it to plot and plan.

  Of course, now there was the new wrinkle of Brogan. And dammit, why was he attracted to the guy he might also have to kill? At the very least, he'd have to eliminate Brogan's cousin, which would make for some damned awkward family reunions.

  Yeah, his sense of humor had definitely gotten more twisted.

  Speaking of twisted, it was time to check in with Vann. When he locked himself inside his apartment, he dialed the number from the burner phone they used for these conversations, because they'd decided they couldn't be too careful about their pasts…and what they'd done about them.

  Vann answered on the first ring. "Cool?"

  "Cool," Aleks told him. If they greeted each other with anything different, the other guy would know something was really wrong. "How're things at the MC?"

  "They're great. I still think you'd love it here." Vann's voice was low and rough, which added to his presence. Most of the guys who'd been locked in the cages with him had been scared of him just because of his voice alone. He sounded like a killer.

  "Right. I'm so good with rules and regs."

  Vann laughed. "The Army could've made you a man."

  "Right. Because they did such a great job with you, asshole," Aleks muttered. "Emme's good?"

  "She's great, yeah. You've got to come meet her soon."

  "I will." They'd decided on a reunion six months post-Aleks's job. "Going to happen sooner than later. I met Harry's cousin today."

  "You're shitting me."

  "We knew he owned the building I work in. I didn't realize he looked after his own properties, or that he's friends with Inked's owners. He just got back from some overseas trip and walked into the shop today."

  Both Aleks and Vann knew Brogan through pictures they'd found of him with Harry, but this update? Made even Vann sit in silence for several moments before finally asking, "We haven't been able to figure out if Brogan's in on it—any news on that front?"

  "Nothing connects Brogan to the ring. I don't think he's got any idea how Harry spends his free time and his money. But sometimes an innocent can cause more danger just by being innocent."

  "Preaching to the choir, brother."

  "I think I have to push him a little bit. He recognized me for sure, but he wasn't about to admit it in front of the entire tattoo parlor," Aleks continued.

  "Just be careful. Anything seems weird, kill him and Harry and get the hell out of Dodge. You've got a place to cover you here anytime—president's orders."

  Aleks didn't even know the Bastard Sons’ president, had never met him, but the guy had literally opened his MC to Aleks should he need it. "Thanks, man. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

  After they'd hung up, Aleks did a little recon online regarding Brogan but didn't find anything new or concerning. His plan was to avoid Brogan—seeing him, talking about him, obsessing over him—but after jerking off in the shower thinking about him, Aleks decided to forgo staying home.

  He let his curiosity—and his anger—get the best of him and he found himself at Club X (their logo was a Saint Andrew's Cross so it fit), an upscale BDSM club. If Con's intel was correct, Brogan would definitely hang out here, not in any of the seedier clubs Aleks frequented from time to time in order to get his fix.

  He'd been here once and the vibe was definitely too "businessmen take a walk on the wild side" which screamed "inexperienced" to Aleks. He wasn't anyone's teacher. If he was going to put himself in someone's hands, he wanted them to know what the fuck they were doing.

  Brogan would. Whether Aleks would turn himself over to get a firsthand view? Undecided at best.

  "New in town?" the bouncer asked as Aleks approached the door.

  "Not new enough," he muttered as he paid the entrance fee and was permitted through the ropes because of his looks and definitely not his charm.

  Not that he gave a shit. If Brogan wasn't here, Aleks was out.

  Which of course, basically ensured that Brogan was here, because that's how fate worked. Aleks caught sight of him as he walked toward the bar, or maybe Brogan caught sight of him first.

  Aleks nodded briefly in his direction, leaned on the corner of the bar and ordered a shot and a club soda.

  "Good day at work?" Brogan asked.

  Aleks downed the bourbon, let it catch fire down to his belly. He waved off another shot from the bartender and switched immediately to the club soda before answering Brogan with a simple, "Yes."

  Brogan nodded. "Not a big drinker?"

  "Not when I'm looking to play." His voice was even. Decisive. He kept his gaze on Brogan, and Brogan smiled and turned to the bartender, who handed him a key.

  Room three. Was that Brogan's special room? Aleks almost asked him but it would come out as snidely as it sounded in his own head, like he was jealous…and fuck that.

  "So, let's go play." Brogan slid off his barstool and Aleks finished his club soda and nodded.

  "Nothing interferes with Inked." He probably didn't need to say it, but it might piss Brogan off, which could be fun.

  Brogan stared at him for a long second and then said, "Agreed. Let's go."

  Right. He rolled his eyes behind Brogan's back and heard the bartender's muffled snort.

  Another Dom, a big guy with a shaved head and lots of tattoos—good ones—murmured, "You get tired of him, come find me, babe."

  "I will," Aleks told him, saw Brogan's shoulders stiffen.

  Fun. At least it was until he was inside the room and B
rogan closed and locked the door. Aleks could get out easily but it stopped people from walking in by accident.

  Deep breath—not the cages, he told himself.

  "Strip," Brogan told him, then stood a few feet away from him, waiting.

  Aleks's heart thudded like he was a goddamned virgin, like it was his first time in a back room. It was part fear of having his entire plan blown, and for what? Curiosity? A fuck?

  Why was he here with this man?

  Because you still jack off thinking about the way he looked at you.

  Brogan assessed him and frowned. "You're not good at following orders."

  Aleks raised his chin and demanded, "Prove to me they're worth following."

  Usually subs didn't demanded that a Dom prove anything to them. This just proved how right Brogan's gut had been, even all those years ago. Aleks was a couple of inches shorter than Brogan, a little broader, but in a fight? They'd be matched. In bed too, Brogan figured, because his cock had been hard from the time he'd recognized the former fighter turned tattoo artist working in the center of the place.

  Brogan narrowed his eyes. "You need to be coddled? You're in the wrong place."

  "Gave up my mother's tit a long time ago."

  Brogan stared into Aleks's deep, dark eyes and repeated his original command. "Strip. And lie down so I can show you how much you still need. How you still crave. I've seen you perform. Now I want to see you do it at my whim."

  Aleks stared back at him and began to shrug out of his clothes, leaving them draped where they fell on the floor. Brogan watched, not giving a damn about messy clothes. Order and rules weren't a part of his game. Bringing a strong man to a screaming, life-altering orgasm? Definitely. And Aleks had been at the top of his list.

  Tonight was the culmination of years of fantasy. If Brogan had his way, it would only be the beginning. "Safe word."

  "Orange. Where do you want me?" Aleks asked, pretending to be a well-behaved boy even through his barely contained smirk.

  Brogan was going to blow Aleks's mind, whether Aleks wanted that or not. And that had nothing to do with consent. What Aleks was doing was all a mindfuck, a mental game. A fighter's weapon.

  But this wasn't the ring. There was no reason for Aleks to have hands up to protect and deflect.

  He pointed to the table in the middle of the room. "Lie down."

  Aleks stalked to the table. God, he was beautiful. Tattoos ran along his arms, a beautiful swell of ink-covered muscle. An almost full backpiece—angel's wings that weren't overdone—completed the look…and that irony wasn't lost on Brogan.

  Neither were Aleks's muscled ass and thighs. He looked powerful. Perfect. And he knows it, Brogan thought. "Hands over your head."

  Aleks complied, stretching his arms and grabbing the center bar that came up out of the back of the table, and managed to look sleepy—even bored—although his cock was hard. "This all you got?"

  Brogan couldn't resist. He leaned in, sucked the tip of Aleks's cock hard, causing him to jackknife.

  "Fuck."

  "Yeah, we'll get there." His voice was husky now with the taste of Aleks on his lips, salty and male and he wanted more. Giving head—without letting men come—was a skill he'd cultivated. It gave the receiver the mistaken belief that he was in control, when really he was the furthest thing from it. "Don't hold back your moans. I want to hear it all, baby."

  Aleks's chest rose and fell, his struggle to regain control over his turned-traitor body obvious. Good. It was masterful to watch the struggle, but Brogan would ensure Aleks wouldn't win. That he'd love every second of losing.

  "Stop moving around" was a bullshit command Brogan never understood. He wanted the man he was with moving, rutting, moaning. He wanted to see it in all its wanton glory, wanted to taste the salty pleasure and feel the impending orgasm in his own cock.

  He put a palm on Aleks's chest, spread his fingers to feel the beating heart. "You want to come?"

  "Yes," Aleks hissed.

  "Then come," Brogan said, wrapping his palm around Aleks's cock and stroking, hard and fast.

  Aleks came, exploding along his chest and Brogan's hand, thrashing around on the table…a celebration of a fight he'd both won and lost.

  When he'd come down from the high of his orgasm, he stared at Brogan as he wiped his hand on one of the complimentary towels.

  "Feel better?" Brogan asked.

  Aleks grunted in return, but stayed in position. Waiting.

  "Thanks for that. Stay as long as you need to," Brogan assured him and thought, Here we go.

  Aleks stared at him in disbelief first and then that familiar flash of temper crossed his expression. When Brogan turned his back on the fighter, he braced for impact.

  He'd wanted to pick a fight…and he'd found one.

  Chapter Three

  Aleks saw red. Before he could stop himself he was tackling Brogan to the ground, angry mostly at himself for allowing any show of vulnerability to his enemy.

  Brogan's cousin is the enemy. Brogan? TBD.

  Still, he knew who Aleks was and where he worked, which meant Harry might be tracking him as well. He had to be smart, test the man currently lying as if he was merely a content submissive underneath him. But there was nothing submissive about Brogan.

  "Problem, Aleks? I'm sure the club has a complaint department."

  Aleks continued to straddle him as he leaned in and asked, "Where's my cash? Or are you not in a betting mood tonight?"

  At that, Brogan smiled. The bastard smiled. "I don't have to pay to fuck."

  Bastard was going to make him spell it out. Meanwhile, you were supposed to keep a goddamned low profile. Christ. "You seem to like to spend your money on me." Aleks knew his words were tinged with both anger and pride, but he couldn't hide that.

  Brogan's expression softened. "I didn't think you'd remember me."

  "I remember a lot of things." Brogan had watched him fight in the early days. The matches at that point seemed friendly enough. Consensual, which they technically were.

  Pretty fucking easy to consent when they held someone you loved and threatened to kill them unless you worked off their debt.

  But Brogan hadn't known that while he'd watched Aleks, just sixteen years old. He'd just been eyeing Aleks for jerk-off material and hell, it'd obviously worked if Brogan was still this hot for him.

  "There were a lot of people in the audience that night. What made you remember me?" Brogan challenged.

  "Not all of them wanted to fuck me," Aleks told him. "How many nights did you jerk off thinking about me?"

  "You give yourself a lot of credit." Maybe so, but Brogan's voice was husky with need when he spoke.

  Aleks also felt the power coiled intensely in Brogan's body. Even if he hadn't known the man had served, he'd have been able to tell by the way Brogan had been trained to play dead at the same time he was poised to strike.

  What was Aleks thinking, fucking a guy he might have to kill? If nothing else, Brogan could turn out to be collateral damage.

  Or you could. "Tell me, baby—was it every night for a while there? What did you picture?"

  Brogan's cock throbbed between them. Aleks was rock hard too and the tension in the air—sexual and otherwise—was palpable as Brogan told him, "You. On your knees. My cock in your mouth. My hand twisted in your hair, holding you there, making you suck me. Fucking beautiful."

  "Yeah," Aleks heard himself murmur before he leaned down to kiss Brogan and fuck, it was good. Better than he'd expected. Better than he'd wanted it to be. Especially when Brogan's hand cupped the back of his neck and held him close, deepening the kiss.

  Aleks stretched out on top of Brogan, letting his weight settle, knowing Brogan could take it.

  Brogan can handle you. Physically, at least.

  It gave him a thrill. This kind of evenly matched fight didn't happen often and Aleks never expected it to. But when it did, like now, man, what a turn-on.

  Brogan's hands traveled up and down Ale
ks's bare back, casually stroking, and he languidly thrust his hips up against Aleks's. The combination of Brogan's jean-covered cock rough against Aleks's bare one had him moaning in Brogan's mouth. He wasn't going to be able to handle this friction for very long before coming.

  Again.

  Brogan seemed to know. He stopped, rolled them so he was on top. Then he sat back on his heels and unzipped his jeans.

  He leaned in again, capturing Aleks's mouth as Aleks reached down to help strip him, yanking the fabric down with hands first, then bare feet for the final push along Brogan's calves as Brogan toed off his shoes.

  Then he made short work of Brogan's shirt…and that's when the fun began. It wasn't so much about dominance. It was about who could give the most pleasure, and Aleks could come from just Brogan's kisses. They were that good, that dominating. Aleks could easily come and float away pleasantly, but his body was revved for more, for harder, and wouldn't be satisfied until he'd gotten it.

  But Brogan was pulling away, yanking Aleks up onto his knees so his cock was in Aleks's direct view.

  Just like Brogan's fantasy. Jesus. Aleks blew out a stuttered breath at the way Brogan was staring down at him. And then Brogan put his hand in Aleks's hair, twisting it, pushing Aleks's face forward. "Suck me. Now."

  The command got Aleks harder.

  Brogan watched Aleks's mouth close around his cock as Aleks stared up at him with those damned beautiful, dark eyes that held all the secrets Brogan wanted to unlock. He knew Aleks's lips would be full, bruised, swollen after taking Brogan in like this, deep-throating him, humming along the length of Brogan's cock.

  "Yeah, Aleks—that's it. Take me in."

  Aleks didn't break Brogan's gaze as he sucked hard along the crown of Brogan's cock before swallowing him again. Brogan loosened his grip on Aleks's hair because Aleks was doing just fine on his own, sucking Brogan's balls, licking Brogan's length before using his tongue to pump Brogan's pisshole like he was trying to stretch him open.

  Brogan's legs went weak when Aleks did that. And of course Aleks knew, smiled around his cock as he continued to drive Brogan crazy.