by Rayne, Sara
And he couldn't continue his seminary path. Couldn't pretend hiding in a pulpit would make him right with God. Couldn't hide his sins with the robes of a holy man the way his father had.
But what the fuck did that leave him?
What path was he on now?
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally felt sober enough to drive. He started the truck and the clock blinked on. Shit, it had been three hours. He drove home, eyes bleary. He kept seeing Noah’s bloody face in his mind. He pulled into his driveway and made his way inside.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, thinking about the night he’d come home and found his mother, dead in the living room. A syringe protruded from her skinny arm, her head pillowed on the carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He couldn’t help but wonder if he could’ve done more, gotten her some real help.
But she hadn’t wanted help. They’d done the rehab route a couple times. Things never worked out. Tonight, Noah hadn’t wanted help either. And Shep had walked away.
Not getting his mom help had ended with her death. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He was getting Noah out of there tonight.
Maybe Shep would luck out and when he got back over to the trailer park, Jerry would be passed out. He’d convince Noah to pack his essentials and they’d split. Shep owned his house—it had passed to him after his mother died—he could take in a roommate if he wanted to.
Or maybe taking a man’s son out of his house wouldn’t sit well with an asshole like Jerry. Shep’s tattoo had protected him earlier, but he had a feelin’ he needed something a little more substantial than ink and a promise this time.
He pulled his gun from the top drawer, checking the barrel, methodically loading the cylinder. He tucked it into the back of his jeans, under his shirt. He was probably going to fucking jail tonight. He pulled the cross from around his neck and hung it on the corner of the mirror, finally looking himself in the eye.
What stared back at him was not a righteous man and whatever path he was on—it sure as hell wasn't straight or narrow.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When a brother in need asks for something, give it to him.
~Four Horsemen Prospect Handbook
* * *
A long, low rumble of thunder snapped Shep back to the present. He climbed down from his bench and hopped back on his bike. The sun was setting when he coasted back into town. He only stopped home long enough to drop off his cut and switch out to his old truck. This wasn't about the MC. Tonight was about him and Noah.
Then he headed across the tracks to Hell's Gate.
The headwinds of the coming thunderstorm whipped through the trailer park, when Shep backed through the open gate into the driveway. He parked and stepped out, the broken gate latch clanking angrily behind him. The remains of Pretty Boy's trailer lay scattered before him. The flames had hit so high parts of the surrounding privacy fence were scorched, black fingers stretching across the white-washed planks.
But it was just the most recent trauma. And every year, on the anniversary of this night—the night that had irrevocably bound their lives together—they met here.
Pretty Boy—no, Noah. In this place, this time, he was Noah—sprawled in a lawn chair by his blackened fire ring. Smoke curled around his sharp features as he exhaled and ashed his blunt. He stood, whistling lowly as he approached. "Wasn't sure you'd show after the vanishing act you pulled this morning."
"Yeah," Shep said tightly. He reached over and dropped the tailgate. He wet his lips. "I wasn't sure how to look you in the fucking eye and act like I got a goddamn right to be angry with you right now."
Noah took the unspoken invitation and sat on the tailgate. "Doesn't mean you ain't."
The sharp, bitter twang of Noah's voice made Shep's stomach churn.
"I'm always gonna be angry when you're in harm's way." He stared at Noah's face, barely changed in the five years since that night. His features had hardened a little, lost the soft sweetness of youth for the angles of a man full-grown. He was now the same age as Shep had been when they'd met. Shep swallowed. "Let's just say I'm done casting stones, okay?"
"I've really never understood it," Noah said, voice a low, aching rasp. "But I've realized for some fucking reason, you're so full of guilt, you'd give me any damn thing I asked for tonight. Wouldn't you?"
Something low and raw twisted inside, his blood heating at the sensual promise in those growled words. Though he didn't think Noah'd cross that line.
Of course if there was a night for crossing lines, it was this one. Pale lightning flashed across the thick clouds gathering overhead, veiling the moon.
Beneath his feet lay a grave no one but them knew about and it haunted Shep. Filled him with something deep, sharp and feral. Thunder rumbled, low and lean in the distance. He dug the steel toes of his boots into the ground. He had spilled blood on this dirt.
He had enjoyed it.
If the night he killed a man marked the day he fell from grace, the blackened fire ring marked the spot it happened. There should be an impact crater here, like he'd actually crashed into the earth.
Shep climbed up next to Noah, as if distance from the dirt would give him space from his sins. His knee brushed against Noah's. Shep snagged his blunt and took a hit. His voice strained from holding in the smoke, he asked, "Something you want to ask me for?"
"Fuck yes," Noah whispered. He dragged his blunt nails along Shep's hand when he took the blunt back.
Shep exhaled slowly, the heavy smoking dragging pleasantly through his itching lungs. The noise in his head quieted as the high slowly bloomed in his brain. He narrowed his eyes, fixated on watching Noah's mouth move as he smoked.
Wind whipped between them, the smell of rain rising in the dust. Shep took the blunt from Noah's fingers just as it left his mouth. He took a long, deep drag and flicked it at the scorched earth. Noah's bright green eyes shone with a hazy hunger he felt echoing through him.
Shep grabbed the collar of Noah's prospect cut, his fingertips sliding against the soft leather. He tugged the dark-haired man forward, looking him square in the eye. There was a deep, sucking void in Shep's chest, a guilt so acidic and pervasive it left him hollow.
But sitting right smack in front of him was enough light and heat to beat back the darkness. To fill him up, satisfy the monster clawing at his spine. To burn away the desperation with some kind of holy fire.
Or was it hellfire?
He couldn't seem to make it matter. Shep dragged Noah closer, watching his eyes dilate, hearing his sharp inhale with a possessive satisfaction. "Ask me."
"Be honest." Noah's throat contracted, his skin sliding against Shep's knuckles with the swallow. "That night—if we hadn't been interrupted. You ever wonder what would have happened?"
Shep cursed internally. His stomach clenched with fear and want. It made him dizzy. "Yes."
Noah's hands flattened against his chest, fingerprints blazing through Shep's shirt as the downdraft of the storm turned chilly. He whispered, "Show me."
Noah shoved Shep back against the bed of the truck, sprawling over his chest. He braced his hands beside Shep's head and pulled back to look him in the eye.
And in that second, he might as well have been back in that moment, on the ground outside the trailer, trying desperately not to understand what he really wanted. The emotions hit him like a sucker punch. The confusion he'd felt at the relentless, persistent tug of attraction for Noah, the visceral reaction whenever he walked in the room.
The undeniable realization that what he was feeling—this feverishly intense burn—would never go away. The desperation, the flat-out need. Once he had felt these things, he couldn't undo it. Maybe he couldn't decipher what had changed, but a man knew when he was branded.
His body arched toward Noah, bowing beneath him. The familiar burn swept through his stomach. His cock hard and straining against his jeans, balls aching. Shep bit into his lower lip, trying to find anything resembling restraint.
<
br /> Noah had asked for what Shep had been incapable of that night. Back then, he'd been too scared of what he felt, of admitting where this was heading, event though they had both known. Tonight, holding back was a Herculean task.
Noah leaned closer, ghosting his lips over Shep's, a hint of a smirk showing when he pulled back. The jerk was teasing him. He knew what Shep wanted.
That thought alone was almost enough to break him.
"Noah …" Shep groaned, hands fisting in Noah's hair and gritting his teeth against the desire to pull him back down.
Noah's mouth captured his and Shep's whole body vibrated with the connection. Noah deepened the kiss slowly, and deliberately, dragging his hips across Shep's in rhythmic sweeps. Shep's restraint snapped, his whole body rocking up against Noah as he returned the kiss.
Noah gasped, breaking the kiss as he panted. Shep trailed kisses along the perfect lines of his throat, one hand sliding over his shoulders and down his chest to take hold of his hip. With the other hand, he leveraged his weight to flip Noah onto his back. He half-drug, half-shoved them deeper into the truck so their feet didn't dangle over the tailgate.
Thunder rolled above them, the ground shaking the truck as the sky lit up. The smell of rain drifted around Shep, mixing with the taste of Noah and he shivered. The downpour hit a second later, like a sheet of cool water.
Shep didn't give a fuck.
He licked into Noah's mouth, the rain dancing over them, pounding against the metal body of the truck and streaming through the holes in the bed. He fucking wanted Noah. Now. Here. Noah sucked Shep's bottom lip into his mouth and ground hard against him.
Shep surrendered with a soul-shaking shudder.
He grabbed handfuls of Noah's shirt and yanked it over his head, throwing it to the side. Noah's fingers left heated trails along Shep's ribcage as he returned the favor. Thunder rocked the truck as Shep straddled Noah, fingers spreading wide across his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
Shep rocked his hips downward as he dragged his hands across Noah's skin, feeling the ridges of his defined abs, sliding over and back up his arms to cup his shoulders. He lowered himself, locking their mouths together again as lightning split the sky, flashing all around them.
He slid his hands under Noah to cup his ass, knuckles scraping the rusty metal as he pulled Noah tighter against him. He shuddered as pleasure rolled through him, heating his flesh from within. He felt so overheated there should have been steam rising from the rain hitting his bare shoulders. Their bodies moved together in a searing, slow sweep. A raw aching sound escaped Shep's lips.
Noah's fingers clawed into his back as he tore his mouth away. He dragged his lips to Shep's ear, gasping, "If we don't stop—"
"Shut up," Shep growled, thrusting against him. "Not fucking stopping."
He panted, "You really … want …"
Shep's hands swept up to the button on Noah's jeans. He held his gaze as he popped it open, sliding the zipper down. Cool rain sluiced down his naked back, raising gooseflesh, but everywhere he and Noah touched felt molten. Gently, he nudged Noah's head to the side, trailing kissing along his jaw. "You want a confession? I've wanted this since I laid eyes on you. Knew it was wrong—didn't matter."
Shep hooked his thumbs in Noah's jeans and tugged them down almost to his knees. His rain-slicked hand wrapped around Noah's hard cock, sliding wetly down the smooth length.
Noah bit into Shep's shoulder, muffling curses as he bucked up into Shep's hand. His movements frantic, he reached down, fumbling to undo Shep’s pants. Shep kept a slow, steady stroke as he toed off his boots and adjusted his weight so Noah could maneuver the jeans off his hips. He kicked them off, impatiently, unconcerned with where they ended up.
Shep's heart hammered in his ears louder than the crashing thunder as he moved on top of Noah, straddling his hips again. Noah was wrecked. Arms braced behind him, wet, black hair slicked back against his head, pupils blown. He leaned close so Noah could hear through the thunder, hearing the aching quality of his own voice as he asked, "What do you want, Noah?"
"Will you give it to me?" He dragged his teeth along Shep's collar bone.
"Yes," Shep bit out.
Noah shifted, spreading Shep's legs further and reached between them, dragging the head of his cock along the cleft of Shep's ass to press against his opening. Shep tensed, a white hot blade of want lined with fear flickering through him.
Noah looked him in the eye, the night around them chill enough now for his breath to fog. "Are you sure about that?"
Shep groaned, unable to look away. He shook his head, trying to clear the consuming haze from his brain. A tremor of fear licked through him, but it didn't put a dent in his rising desire. "You'd be the first."
"I’d be honored, but it’s got to be your choice." Noah's voice had dropped an octave and Shep felt his cock jerk in reaction to the statement. "Yes or no? Do you want me to fuck you?"
Yes, he fucking did. He wanted it, wanted to feel overwhelmed, overcome, consumed by Noah. Wanted to be surrounded and filled up and undone. It wasn't smart or really safe, was insane really—fucking in the middle of a trailer parker under a monsoon.
And he'd never done this with anyone, never let himself be that vulnerable. He could bullshit himself, say he held something back to keep from making it too real, but the fucking truth was scorched across his soul. He'd held back something that wasn't his to give away.
Because it belonged to Noah. He belonged to Noah.
He didn't give a fuck about consequences right now
He wanted Noah.
"Yes."
Noah froze, muscles shaking as he stared up into Shep's face. He laid back, gaze sweeping over Shep's body, stripped bare, slicked with rain and poised above him. He reached out and gripped Shep's shoulders, pulling him flush against his chest.
His voice sounded like gravel as he gritted out, "You better fucking mean that."
Oh, I mean it.
Shep's hands slid down Noah's sides, past the bared skin. He maneuvered a hand into the back pocket of Noah's jeans and produced a half-empty tube of cherry-flavored lube and a foil-wrapped condom.
Noah chuckled soft and low beneath him, disbelief threading the sound. "Maybe you know me too well." He took the tube from Shep's shaking hand, flipped off the cap and squeezed a healthy portion into his hand. He slicked his cock slowly, eyes fluttering shut and needy noises escaping his throat. He tore the condom wrapper and rolled the latex down his stiff flesh.
Noah took his time, spreading copious amounts of lube over his wrapped cock and then slowly over Shep's hole, circling the tight ring. Shep bit his lip, keeping his eyes locked on Noah's face even as they tried to shut on him on. He had never felt so connected, so open before. His knees shook from his straddling position. Noah's free hand grabbed the back of Shep's neck, bringing their mouths together in a searing kiss. As he thrust his tongue in Shep's mouth, he pushed a finger into him.
Shep moaned into the kiss, nibbling at Noah's lower lip. He gasped, "More."
Noah slid another finger in, too hesitant, too cautious. Shep jerked, knowing Noah was trying to be careful with him, make it good for him. The feeling settled warm and sweet in his chest. He pulled Noah's hand away, then cupped his face, sweeping his tongue past Noah's parted lips for another deeply drugging taste.
When he pulled back, positioned over Noah's erection, his own dick was so fucking hard the errant drops of rain pulled a deep-seated groan from his throat. He braced his weight and slowly slid down, a steady, soft burn dragging inside him with the motion.
Shep mouthed curses as lust rolled through his core. Noah shook beneath him, straining as if to hold still, to let Shep set the pace here. He threw an arm over his shoulder and Shep glimpsed the horseshoe tattoo that marked Noah protected eternally. He shivered.
Shep pushed downward, deeply seating Noah's cock inside. He arched back, gasping to the stars as the sensation swept through him. His balls tightened. He squirmed a
little, willing his body to adjust. Then Noah rolled his hips, cock dragging against the sweet spot and Shep cried out, eyes slamming shut.
"Liked that?" Noah whispered huskily in his ear. There was a tender note in his tone, a slight hint of vulnerability.
Shep rocked down and smirked as Noah's eyes rolled back in his head, his body tilting up. "Yeah, little bit."
He wrapped a hand firmly around Shep's erection and the discomfort evaporated like the rain off his overheated skin. They locked into a steady rhythm, bodies sliding against each other, hands stroking, carnal sounds muffled by the raw power of the storm unleashed around them. Shep was goddamn trembling as he met Noah’s gaze.
Noah hit that tight spot of nerves with every sweeping thrust, eyes locked on Shep's. He was coming apart, trembling, vibrating with building need. Every relentless drag of Noah's thumb ring over the head of his cock, counter-timed to him sliding deep inside, pushed Shep closer to an apex he wasn't sure he'd survive.
He cupped Noah's face, bringing their lips together. He licked into Noah's mouth eagerly, memorizing the taste with every flick of his tongue, focusing on the flutter of his heart as he anticipated every new well of pleasure. Years by each other's side had created an instinctive knowledge of how the other moved, an intuitive ability to shift and flex in all the right ways.
His knees scraped against the rough metal of the truck, his hair dripped down his face, the chill wind and unrelenting rain only heightened how good every part of him that touched Noah felt. Shep rocked down harder, intensifying their pace. Noah's eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back, throat arcing in a graceful curve.
He let out a sinful moan. Shep reveled in the sound, in the ability to shake Noah like this, to see him abosolutely destroyed like this. He had never affected another person like this. Had never felt so consumed before. Shep was a breath away from coming and goddamn certain this was the best sex he'd ever have in his whole fuckin’ life.
Noah shook harder and gasped, "Shep, I—" Thunder drowned out the rest of his sentence.