Slade snorted. “Gonna be uncomfortable anyway.” He turned to face his lover before he lifted his hand and grasped the nape of Knight’s neck. “But your mouth can take care of it, I am sure.”
“Oh, can it now?” Knight smirked.
“It can,” Slade confirmed and tugged on Knight to move his head toward where he wanted to feel Knight’s mouth.
Knight didn’t resist Slade’s grasp when his partner pulled on him. Nope. He willingly slid off his stool and dropped to his knees. Knight batted away Slade’s other hand when his lover moved to pull down his navy boxer briefs.
Head wasn’t one of Knight’s better sexual skills, so he always wrapped his hand around the base of the cock that he was about to suck. It helped him control how far and how fast his face was going to be fucked. Not that his hand being around the base of Slade’s prick would make any damn bit of difference when he sucked on Slade. Still, Slade allowed him the temporary illusion.
“Fuck.” Slade hissed at the first touch of Knight’s hot, wet mouth around the crown of his head.
He leaned back in the breakfast bar stool and stretched his legs out around Knight until his feet rested on the lower rungs of the stool Knight had just vacated.
Slade brought his other hand to the side of Knight’s cheek and applied slight pressure to his partner’s jaw joint. They had done this so frequently, that Slade now did it more out of habit than anything else because Knight no longer needed his prompting to open wider.
Knight felt Slade’s touch on his face and opened his mouth further to take more of Slade in. He knew Slade’s prompting touch would soon move into his hair. Not only into his hair to briefly caress his skull, but to fist his dark locks. The moment Knight felt Slade’s hand tighten into a fist, he took a deep breath.
He would need it because Knight couldn’t deep throat unless Slade forced him to swallow the hardness that currently filled his mouth. No matter how many times they had already danced this dance, Knight was always caught off guard when Slade thrust up with his hips and pushed down with his hands.
The gagging noise that was muted by his cock didn’t even make Slade pause. He held Knight’s face flush with his pubic hair for a three second count before he roughly pulled Knight’s head back by using his hair like a handle.
Slade didn’t pause before shoving Knight’s head back down and thrusting up again. He was rewarded with another muted gagging noise and the feel of his cock slipping into Knight’s throat. Tears already leaked from his lover’s eyes, but that didn’t stop him from repeating the process again.
Knight knew his cheeks were wet from his tears. He could also feel his spit dripping off his chin and soaking into Slade’s boxer briefs. Every time his lover pushed him back down, the material soaked up more and his cock throbbed painfully.
The first time they had discovered Knight’s kink for being gagged had been a surprise for both of them because it was hot as hell. It was no longer a surprise, but no less hot as the first time.
Knight didn’t remember removing his hand off his lover’s cock, but then again he never did. Just like he never recalled at what point he started fisting his dick in time with Slade’s thrusts. It didn’t matter. Not to him and definitely not to Slade.
Through almost closed eyes, Slade could see Knight’s arm jackhammering. He knew his lover wouldn’t come until he forced his orgasm down his partner’s throat. Just knowing that, seeing Knight’s tear stained face, and hearing choking sounds every time he pistoned up was enough to push Slade over the edge.
He gave one last brutal yank down on his lover’s head at the same time he thrust up so harshly that his ass left the seat of the stool. Slade held Knight’s face flush with his body while his cock sent pulse after pulse of his release down his lover’s throat.
Knight took every ounce of what Slade gave him. His chest was burning with the urge to breathe, but he held back his body’s instinct to jerk away and take a deep breath. He ignored his aching jaw as well. This was all part of the ride when they fed into his new kink. Instead, he focused on his own body shuddering from cumming all over the floor beneath Slade’s stool.
As the last tremors quaked down Slade’s legs, he roughly jerked Knight’s head off his slowly wilting cock. His lover took a deep gasping breath and coughed twice before inhaling deeply again. The lazy smile that spread his lips was mirrored on Knight’s face.
The sated smile that Knight knew graced his lips didn’t fade when Slade dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward in his seat. His lover caressed the wetness on his cheeks. This was part of the ritual after Knight gave Slade head in this fashion. Not every time Knight sucked off Slade was like this. However, when it was they both enjoyed the hell out of it.
“C’mon, let’s shower.” Slade leaned down and gave Knight a kiss.
“Yeah,” Knight coughed out the word before he cleared his throat. “The least you can do is wash me now.”
Slade chuckled and helped his lover to his feet. He knew Knight loved it just as much as he did when they did this.
“After you, your highness.” Slade pushed Knight down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Fuck you.” Knight laughed without looking over his shoulder at his lover.
“And I love it when you do.”
Slade pushed behind Knight and started the shower. It only took a moment for the water to get to the temperature they both preferred before they stepped under the spray. The shower was by no means big enough to hold two 6’ plus sized men.
However, just like everything else over the last few months, they were used to it. Managing in the cramped space had become habit when they showered together. After taking turns washing each other, they exited the shower, dried off, and walked into Knight’s bedroom to get dressed.
Slade had just as many clothes at Knight’s as Knight had at his. But it wasn’t the forced wardrobe of suits, dress shirts, and ties that Slade sorted through now. No, it was his preferred attire of black jeans, T-shirts, and boots that he sifted through.
Knight watched his partner pull jeans out of the dresser drawer he gave him for his close while he got dressed. Almost every pair was black and Knight knew exactly how they would mold to his lover’s ass. He was sitting on the bed and just pulling on his own shit kickers when Slade lifted up a cardboard box from the floor by the door.
He had no idea where the box had come from because it wasn’t there when they went to work yesterday morning and Slade didn’t bring it home from the office last night.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“Deat had it dropped off last night after we got home,” Slade answered and chuckled at his partner’s expression.
Knight knew Deat, Deatrick, was in charge of outfitting them, even if he had yet to meet the man, with whatever was required when they went undercover. Still, that didn’t explain how the box of shit that his lover was going to need to pull off the persona of a member of the Knights of Valor ended up in his bedroom.
“How did it end up in my fucking bedroom?”
Knight could hear the anger in his tone that matched what he was feeling over someone he didn’t know coming into his place. Not only his place, but his fucking bedroom, especially since he didn’t detect anyone but Slade in his apartment since they came home from work.
Slade knew the direction this conversation about how the box of shit he needed for the op got into Knight’s apartment was about to go based on the tone of his lover’s voice. That tone, that precursor to Knight losing his shit in a full-blown fit of anger made his practically raw cock want to twitch.
Still, as hot he found Knight’s anger, they didn’t have time for Slade to diffuse it with sex like he normally would. Not only did they not have time, but he was sure neither of their asses would survive the encounter.
Hell, if Knight’s dick was half as tender as his from all the fucking they’d done in the last twelve hours, sex wasn’t even on the table to diffuse Knight’s anger management issues.<
br />
“Relax, Rage.” Knight smirked. “Deat had the box dropped off outside the door. The text that it was here woke me up around four and I brought it inside while you were still crashed from our fuck-fest.”
Slade had started calling him Rage the second week they had returned to the office. At first Knight had just thought it was a reference to how quickly he became angered. A few comments from the team led him to believe otherwise. So, as much as Knight hated computers, he Googled Rage.
Of course, the results gave him the dictionary definitions, but they also gave him pages based on a comic book character. After reading those results, Knight didn’t believe the comic book character was the comparison Slade was making by giving him the new nickname.
So, he searched some more. Several pages into the Google results, he found another fictional character. This one was a vampire who turned into an uncontrollable dragon-like beast when he got pissed off. He could see where Slade made the comparison since Knight knew that his anger blinded him more times than not.
However, as much as he wanted to be pissed over being compared to the fictional vampire, he couldn’t. He was too distracted by the thoughts of how his partner even knew about the character since the fictional Rage was written in an erotic romance novel. It didn’t seem like something his partner would read, but he had yet to call Slade out on it. In fact, he planned to make Slade explain the nickname, but not right now.
“So, what’s in it?” Knight nodded to the box before he stood and stomped into his boots.
“Let’s see.”
Slade grinned and ignored Knight as he walked around the end of the bed to stand next to him. He sliced through the tape that sealed the top of the box. Knight hadn’t even seen Slade retrieve the blade he knew his partner kept sheathed at his ankle.
Two 0.9 mils and several extra clips sat on top of a pile of clothes. Slade picked up the guns and absently handed them off Knight. He tossed the spare clips onto the bed before he began pulling out T-shirts. Everyone was either a bike week or a support the military type shirt.
Knight took the weapons Slade handed him and immediately noticed that the serial numbers had been filed off. He supposed that if they weren’t it would cause suspicion if any members of Satan’s Blades looked at them too closely.
His gaze shifted to the T-shirts Slade was tossing onto the bed. The first thing he noticed was that they weren’t brand-new. They all appeared well worn and Knight didn’t want to think about whose body had worn them before his lover was about to wear them for this op.
The next thing he noticed, were the prints on the T-shirts. He could see several were bike week shirts: Daytona Beach and Sturgis were the prominent locations, but the most recent for either was 2011.
The others were military related: ‘Those who serve deserve respect,’ ‘All gave some, some gave all,’ ‘Never forgotten.’ Several others were in the pile, but Knight couldn’t fully read what they said. However, the ones he did read were a perfect match for his partner’s cover.
Just because the Knights of Valor were supposed to be disgruntled with Uncle Sam didn’t mean they wouldn’t support their current brothers in arms. And they would definitely support those that were POWs or KIA’s.
“Shit.”
Slade’s curse pulled Knight’s attention away from the T-shirts that were scattered across his king-size bed. When he focused on his partner, it was to see him holding up a leather biker vest.
Slade held the Knights of Valor club vest in front of him and couldn’t stop the surprised expression that he knew graced his face. The vest was well-worn which told Slade this vest had actually belonged to and had been worn by a member of KoV. Pins decorated both sides that would cover his pecs. He briefly noticed an American flag, Wounded Warriors, and Paralyzed Veterans pins along with several from bike rallies. However, those pins weren’t what transfixed Slade’s eyes to the front of the vest he would wear to infiltrate Satan’s Blades. No, it was the gold nameplate.
Eliminator
Sergeant at Arms
“Holy shit,” Knight commented when he read the nameplate on the front of Slade’s vest. “Guess we know your cover name now.”
“Yeah,” Slade agreed and turned the vest around to look at the back.
The KoV patch was a work of fucking art if Slade had ever seen one. An American eagle was the centerpiece. Wings spread and claws extended as if it were about to snatch up prey from the ground or some lake in Alaska.
Behind the top of the wings of the Eagle, were guns. One was a World War II Springfield rifle and the other was an M-16. Below the wingtips was a Sherman tank and what had to be the most common heavy artillery gun. The American flag waving patriotically was the backdrop for it all. ‘Knights’ was embroidered at the top of the patch and ‘of Valor was under the beauty of the design.
There would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that lay eyes on this patch that the wearer was military of some sort. Above the club patch for KoV, there was an arched rocker that said ‘Sergeant at Arms’ and below the main patch, one that said ‘Veteran.’
Slade was still staring at the back of the vest he was to wear for part of his cover when his lover’s voice snapped him out of his daze.
“Hope you don’t have to live up to your name.”
“Shit,” Slade cursed again.
“You have a plan if you do?”
“We’ll figure something out.” Slade didn’t look at Knight.
Slade put the vest on and wasn’t surprised that it fit as if he had been wearing it for years. Deat was just that good.
“Yes, we will,” Knight reassured before he gave Slade’s lips a light peck. “See you in Miami.” He grinned then added, “or maybe you won’t.”
“I better not,” Slade scolded before he pulled Knight into a deep kiss. It went on for what seemed like eternity and at the same time felt like it was over way too quickly.
“Time to get to work.” Slade couldn’t hide his excitement to be going undercover again when he pulled back from Knight’s plump lips and grabbed his saddlebags so he could start to pack.
Knight laughed, but his amusement over his partner’s excitement about the op caused his mirth to almost disappear. There was something in Slade’s gaze that he didn’t dare read too much into. Knight cleared his throat and was about to say something, but changed his mind and just pulled out of Slade’s embrace.
“Drive safe and I’ll talk to you in Miami.”
Knight turned and left his bedroom without a glance back at his partner and lover. He grabbed his badge and keys off the breakfast bar then picked up his duffle bag and left for the office without another look or word at Slade.
##~~##
Four
Payne wiped his forearm across his forehead again to smear the sweat that was threatening to run down his face. He was squatted next to a club member’s Harley and currently flushing the bike’s lines. Even in the shade of the clubhouse’s garage behind the bar, Payne was sweating his balls off. He was used to the Florida heat and humidity, but that didn’t mean he didn’t sweat like a pig just like everyone else.
He killed the last of his piss warm beer and stood. Payne ran a hand over his face to rub the sweat into his skin and goatee again.
“Hey man, you good?”
Payne glanced over at Keg who had just stepped into the shade of the garage. His club brother was more muscular than he and Payne couldn’t help but wonder if all that extra muscle mass made the man sweat more.
Keg was attractive with his black buzz cut and strong stubbled jaw, but even his pretty blue eyes didn’t make him Payne’s type. The man was straight, for one, and way too buff for what turned Payne on. Not that any of the smaller club members made his dick twitch either.
Hell, aside from his hand, with a few mental fantasies of faceless strangers, his prick hadn’t been touched in almost two years. Two fucking years too long. Of course, the club didn’t know that. Hell, they didn’t know he was gay and practically celibate
. No, he made sure they didn’t know.
It wasn’t hard to fake getting a piece of ass from any of the trashy bitches that infected the club like a bad case of the clap. All he had to do was get them drunk almost to the point of passing out before he took them to a room in the clubhouse. They’d pass out, he’d strip them, they’d wake up naked and alone the next day and the rest took care of itself. None of the women ever admitted to not remembering a damn thing about fucking him.
In fact, each time he pulled the scam, the woman tried to outdo the last with lies of their sexual exploits that only he knew never happened. All the better for him.
None of those thoughts had anything to do with the large biker who now approached him. Keg was new to the club. Well, new compared to the two years Payne had been buried in their filth.
Keg had joined the club six months ago. He was still a probationary member and likely would be until after at least a year in Satan’s Blades. That was par for the course for the club. No one made member in the Satan’s Blades under a year.
Payne knew that when he accepted this op, but fuck if he didn’t miss his fellow INET agents. It had been so long since he could be himself, he was starting to worry he wouldn’t make it back from this assignment.
Again the thoughts of missing his teammates had nothing to do with Keg who now stood next to him waiting for an answer.
“Aside from sweating my fucking balls off?” Payne grinned at Keg. “Yeah. Just getting ready to grab another beer before I finish Slick’s bike.”
“Just needed the fluids changed?” Keg asked and nodded toward the soft tail they stood next to.
“Yeah,” Payne confirmed. “If the fucker took better care of this beauty, it wouldn’t have to be flushed so often.”
“No shit,” Keg agreed. “I’d keep her primed if she was mine.”
“I hear you.” Payne chuckled. “I need a cold one.”
Keg only nodded in agreement before they walked to the door that led into the clubhouse bar. The probie member held the door for Payne and followed him through. They both took seats at the well-worn bar in Hell’s Minions.
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