Sand Trap

by L. M. Somerton

  “I may have lied about that. It only skimmed me. It’s not that serious.”

  “You lied? Then rode all the way back here without saying anything?” Hatchet shoved his chair back.

  “I don’t recall passing an ER on the road.”

  “No shit. It’s probably infected.”

  Hatchet poked at the wound scoring the fleshy part of Smith’s arm. “How the fuck did you make it back here without falling off the bike?”

  “High pain threshold.” Smith gave a weak smile. “However, I think I might need to lie down for a while. If one of you gentlemen wouldn’t mind giving me a ride into the city…”

  “You’re going nowhere.” Hatchet helped Smith stand. “Except into my bed.”

  “Well, that’s quite the invitation, Mr. Hatchet.”

  Orlando giggled and Hatchet shot him a glare. “Do we have antibiotics here?”

  “We do,” Shelton said. “I’ll get supplies and come to your room for patch-up duty.” Shelton was glad to have something to do. He was the expert first-aider of the group and best placed to help Smith. He was embarrassed that The Wyverns had been obliged to risk their lives and rescue him. He didn’t need a reputation as a liability. Biker gangs weren’t known for their tolerance.

  Hatchet slung an arm around Smith’s shoulders but he staggered, his knees not supporting his weight. Hatchet grunted and hauled Smith over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift then carted him off toward the bedroom wing. “Stubborn asshole. “

  “Speaking of…you should not be walking on those feet,” Crow said.

  “They’re not too bad. Orlando covered the worst cuts with bandages. I’ll wear some fluffy socks,” Shelton said. “Orlando can lend me some. Smith needs treatment, Crow, I have to help him.”

  “Then you rest. No debates, Shelton.”

  Shelton rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’ll be a good boy just as soon as Smith is comfortable.”

  Orlando dashed from the room, returning a few minutes later with a pair of polka-dot socks in lime green and white. Shelton pulled them on then slipped from Crow’s lap. He let the blanket drop. His shorts were reasonably respectable. He held back a wince, knowing Crow would refuse to let him do anything if he was in pain.

  “Crow, would you mind bringing the first-aid box for me?” Asking him to help might alleviate the overprotectiveness he was displaying.

  Shelton caught Rogue’s knowing glance and shrugged. Rogue grinned.

  “Sure, but you need to put some pants on, Shelton.”

  “Nobody’s admiring my skinny ass but you, Crow. There’s no time to get dressed.” He marched after Hatchet.

  With Crow hovering, Shelton dosed Smith with strong antibiotics then, after cutting away his shirt, cleaned his wound as best he could. The bullet had dug a deep groove. Messy and no doubt painful.

  “I’ll leave it exposed to the air, but he needs to keep still or it will keep breaking open,” Shelton said.

  Smith’s temperature was spiking and his pulse felt a bit thready.

  “He’s filthy. He really needs a cool bath but I don’t want to move him just yet,” Shelton said. “He needs to rest. Let the drugs take effect.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give him a sponge bath,” Hatchet said, leering.

  “Oh, God.” Smith groaned.

  “Come and find me if he gets any worse,” Shelton said. “If he gets delirious or starts throwing up, we might have to fetch a proper doc out here.” He left the first-aid supplies in Hatchet’s room, then limped toward his own. He needed a shower in the worst way.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Crow asked.

  “Shower and bed, in that order,” Shelton snapped back, fatigue draining his patience.

  “And you’ll be doing that in my room,” Crow said, scooping him off his feet. “Obstinate, stubborn menace.”

  Shelton didn’t complain about being carried this time. He was bone weary and his feet hurt. His thoughts were fuzzy. There were things he needed to do but he couldn’t get them straight in his head. It was easy to let Crow take the weight, not just physically but in other ways too. He felt safe in Crow’s arms.

  Crow kicked open the door to his room and the first thing Shelton noticed was the red fleece blanket across the bottom of his bed. It was a homey touch in an otherwise colorless space. Crow put him down on the bed, making sure he was steady.

  “I’ll start the shower. It’s a shame we don’t have baths here. A long soak would do you good.”

  “I’d probably fall asleep in the water and drown,” Shelton muttered, his words lost to the sound of pounding water.

  When Crow returned he hadn’t moved. He couldn’t quite grasp the concept of needing to remove his clothes. Crow helped him undress, peeling off his boxers until he was left wearing just Orlando’s lurid socks. He giggled.

  “Very cute.” Crow yanked them off too, throwing them aside. “But please don’t ever wear them again. I don’t want you getting infected with Orlando genes. One brat around this place is quite enough.”

  Shelton slipped off the bed, testing his ability to stand. He thought he could probably make it to the shower. “Too late. I’ve been around him a lot. Cross-pollination of bratism was inevitable.”

  “Bratism?”

  “Yep. It’s a recognized scientific term.” He collapsed back onto the bed.

  “Crap.” Crow stripped, revealing acres of tanned skin and rippling muscle.

  “Oh. Yum.” Despite his fatigue, Shelton’s cock perked up.

  Crow shook his head. He helped Shelton into the wet room, positioning him beneath the warm spray. “Let me take care of you. You spend so much time and energy looking after the rest of us, it’s your turn.”

  Shelton leaned against the tiles and submitted to Crow’s gentle ministrations. The scent of herbal gel filled the air as Crow rubbed it into his skin. He covered every inch, paying special attention to Shelton’s ass.

  “Is my rear particularly dirty?” Shelton asked.

  “Yes.” Crow didn’t elaborate, just squeezed and rubbed, sliding a slick finger between Shelton’s cheeks to graze his hole.

  “Oh!” Shelton let out an unmanly squeak.

  “You’re dirty all over, in fact.” Crow slipped the tip of a finger into Shelton’s hole.

  Shelton rose on his toes, moaning. His cock hardened, the ache unbearable.

  “Please, Crow. Need you.”

  “When you’re clean.” Crow proceeded to soap him again, flicking his nipples as he passed, making Shelton squirm. “And that’s gonna take a while.”

  By the time Crow had finished washing, shampooing and generally running his big, rough hands all over Shelton’s body, Shelton was a wriggling mass of horny need, his exhaustion forgotten. When the water began to cool, Crow turned the shower off. He grabbed a towel then wrapped Shelton up, pinning his arms inside the fabric.

  “What am I, a Tootsie Roll?”

  “They are good to suck on,” Crow said, completely straight-faced.

  He hoisted Shelton over his shoulder, carried him through to the bedroom then dropped him on the bed. Shelton flailed, fighting to get free of the towel but as soon as he did Crow grabbed his arms, pulled them above his head then tied them to the headboard. Shelton stilled, not sure how to react to the bondage. Crow straddled him, still dripping wet. Droplets of water hit Shelton’s bare chest and Crow ran his finger through them, spreading the moisture.

  “Wanna fuck you bare. Make you mine. I’m safe.”

  Shelton knew Crow would never do anything to harm him. He trusted him implicitly. “Me too. Want you. Want this.”

  Crow petted him, stroking his hair. “You’re too good for me, Shel. If I fuck you hard enough, maybe you’ll forget that for a while.”

  “You talk utter bullshit sometimes, you know that?” Shelton locked his legs around Crow’s back. “Less talking, more fucking.”

  Crow’s eyes darkened. “Need lube.” He groped beneath the pillow, pulling out a tube with a triump
hant flourish. It looked well used.

  Shelton raised an eyebrow, grinning.

  “So I’ve been familiar with my hand recently. Give me a fucking break,” Crow snarled. “Having to watch your cute ass parading around, not getting to touch. Fuck.”

  Shelton’s laugh was cut off as Crow speared him with lube-slicked fingers. The prep was cursory but Shelton didn’t care. He wanted Crow’s thick cock where it belonged, filling him.

  “I love that we can do this with nothing between us,” Crow said, applying an extra smear of lube to his rigid cock. He grabbed Shelton’s hips, hauling his ass higher. The initial breach was enough to make Shelton curl his fingers into fists. Crow froze.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Crow. I swear, if you don’t fuck me this instant I’ll register your details on every straight dating app I can find.”

  Crow thrust into him and Shelton’s breath whooshed out. He yelped. The burn soon faded to a pleasant throb as his channel stretched to accommodate Crow’s dick. Crow bent him back, pushing deeper. Again and again he hit Shelton’s prostate with unerring accuracy. Helpless to do anything but accept the pounding Crow was administering, Shelton gave himself up to sensation. He was desperate to come. He just needed the lightest touch to his cock but Crow wasn’t playing ball. Having his hands tied proved to be frustrating but liberating. Shelton had no choice but to submit to Crow and it released him from all his worries.

  “You will never put yourself in danger again.” Crow punctuated his thrusts with words. “Say, no, Sir.”

  “No, Sir.” If it got him an orgasm, Shelton would say anything Crow wanted him to.

  “You’re mine, Shelton. You do as I say.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  Crow wrapped his fingers around Shelton’s cock and tugged. He came instantly, grinding his ass against Crow, sucking him in deeper.

  “Fuck!” Crow yelled.

  A hot flush of warmth filled Shelton’s channel. He threw back his head and laughed with joy while Crow made a few final pushes until both of them were drained dry. He collapsed onto Shelton’s body, pressing him into the mattress.

  “Never letting you go,” Crow whispered, his breath caressing Shelton’s chest. He reached up to untie Shelton’s wrists.

  Shelton didn’t have the energy to reply. He hoped his smile was enough to tell Crow how he felt. When Crow left the bed to fetch a wet cloth, Shelton immediately missed him. He craved the security of his presence. Allowing Crow to clean him up seemed natural—not at all embarrassing—and Crow was very gentle.

  “Do you have to go?” Shelton asked, knowing it was still early.

  Crow shook his head. “I’m as tired as you must be. It was one long-ass night.” He clambered into bed and pulled the covers over them both.

  Shelton curled against Crow’s body, luxuriating in his strength and warmth. His eyes drifted closed.

  “I love you, Crow.” He was half asleep, hardly aware of what he was saying.

  Crow pulled him closer, wrapping him in a firm embrace.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Shelton said.

  “No.” Crow’s voice sent rumbles through Shelton’s body. “I do. I’m just not good at…feelings.”

  Shelton chuckled. “My big, bad biker.”

  “Go to sleep, Shelton. You need the rest.”

  “Uh-huh.” Shelton drifted.

  “I love you too.”

  “Hmm, this is a great dream.” Shelton smiled. “I could have sworn you just said…”

  “Sleep, Shelton.”

  That sounded like an order. Shelton decided to do as he was told. For now.

  Also available from Pride Publishing:

  Tales from The Edge: Binding the Edges

  L.M. Somerton

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Olly surveyed the bombsite that had once been his and Joe’s bedroom. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing his entire wardrobe strewn across the bed and over every inch of the floor.

  “I have absolutely no idea what to pack.” He stuck out his lower lip and stood, hands on hips, waiting for inspiration to strike.

  “We’re only going to be away for two nights, how hard can it be?” Aiden reclined on the bed, partly covered by a collection of brightly colored T-shirts.

  “Oh, it can be very hard, believe me.” Olly twitched his nose and smirked.

  Aiden groaned. “There’s an image I need to bleach from my brain.”

  “You left yourself wide open,” Olly said. “That’s not like you.” He scratched at his arm. “Christ, these stitches are driving me insane.”

  “I’m tired,” Aiden said. “My brain’s not working. And if you don’t stop messing with that cut, Joe will lock your hands into bondage mittens.”

  Olly gulped. “There’s a pair of those around here somewhere. I hate them. They make my hands all sweaty and I don’t like it when I can’t touch Joe. I should hide them.”

  “If Joe can’t find them, he’ll know you are responsible and when he asks you where they are you’ll have to tell him the truth.”

  “Then I’ll be in even more trouble.” Olly sighed. “Being a submissive involves far too many ethical decisions for my liking. Why are you tired?”

  “Because I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  Olly gave his friend a more detailed examination. There were dark shadows beneath Aiden’s eyes but he didn’t seem tense or unhappy. “Tell me all the juicy details. What did Heath do to you? Come on, spill! I’m your best friend in the whole wide world and therefore entitled to know about every kinky facet of your love life.” Olly gave Aiden a stubborn stare. “Besides, it beats making packing decisions.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad that my private life is more titillating than your underwear choices.”

  “Well…” Olly considered that for a few seconds. Underwear selection for a mini-break with Joe was a very serious matter. “It’s a close call, but my natural curiosity needs satisfying.”

  Aiden grunted. “More like rabid nosiness.”

  Olly clambered onto the bed, shoving clothing out of the way as he went. He sat cross-legged and stared Aiden down. “You have to tell me now. It would be cruel not to. I would have to report you to the RSPCS.”

  Aiden squinted at him and raised an eyebrow.

  “Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Subs. It’s a thing.”

  “You’ve met Heath,” Aiden responded. “I should have an honorary membership.”

  “What did your big bad Dom do now? Tell Olly. I’ll kiss it better.”

  “You will not!”

  Aiden’s indignant exclamation had Olly dissolving in a fit of giggles. “Well, that gives me a clue as to which part of your anatomy is involved. How about we play the yes no game?”

  “What are you talking about, Olly?”

  “Well, you’re too shy to tell me straight out, so just answer my questions yes or no. That’s all you have to do. You don’t really tell me anything but I get the information I need. It’s a win-win solution to our mutual dilemma.”

  “I don’t have a dilemma.” There was a delicate blush staining Aiden’s well-defined cheekbones.

  “I disagree. Your dilemma is that if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I will aggravate you until you cry like a little girl.” Olly blew on his fingernails and polished them against his shirt.

  “Jesus.” Aiden banged his head against the mattress. “Fine. But you only get ten questions. After that you suffer in silence. Agreed?”

  “Agreed. This is fun!” Ten questions should be enough, Olly reasoned.

  Aiden shifted up the bed then made himself comfortable against the pillows. Olly drummed his fingers on his thigh, impatient to get started.

  “Okay, question one.” He held up a finger. “Did Heath keep you awake with the assistance of sex toys?”

  “Yes.” Aiden sighed heavily.

  “That was an easy one and gives me a clue that more tha
n one item was involved.” Olly licked his lips. “So was your sadistic Dom indulging himself with a little CBT?”

  Aiden groaned. “Yes.”

  “Mmm. Delicious. Of course cock and ball torture can be achieved in so many ways. However, I credit Heath with a particularly inventive imagination. Was some sort of predicament play involved?”

  Aiden apparently had to think about that one. “Yes.”

  “Ah, another clue. You weren’t sure how to answer so that tells me it wasn’t a complicated setup, but you must have been put in a position where movement had consequences. That wasn’t a question, by the way.”

  “Olly, get on with it.”

  “Wow. You whine almost as well as I do. Not quite, of course, because I am the world champion. Now, knowing you as well as I do, you probably gave Heath some cheek. He would have wanted to screw you hard but punish you at the same time. Am I getting warm?”

  “Yes, and that was a question.”

  “Gloating doesn’t suit you.” Olly flopped onto his front, folded his arms then rested his chin on them. He peeked at Aiden from beneath a few stray curls. “I still have six questions left. I don’t think Heath would use one of those clamp thingies that squash your balls flat. He cares about your bits too much.”

  Aiden blinked. It was enough of a tell to convince Olly he was right.

  “He’d want to stop you getting away from him because I know how you like to run. So, possibly a spreader bar…but that’s too boring for Heath. Something that gave him easy access to your arse but was suitably humiliating.” Olly frowned, mentally listing all the possible options. “I’ve got it!” He chuckled.

  Aiden closed his eyes, his expression a picture of abject misery. “God, this is painful.”

  “I’ll bet last night was, too!” Olly crowed. “Did he use a humbler?”

  Aiden’s blush deepened. “Yes.” He spoke so softly, Olly barely caught the word.

  “That’s so hot! Joe has a stiff rubber one, but I bet Heath’s is made of wood because that’s much more uncomfortable.” He giggled. “So there you are, on your hands and knees, unable to get up. The humbler is digging into the backs of your thighs and your balls are trapped and exposed.”