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by Michelle Frost


  The rumble of a motorcycle had him scrambling to catch one last glimpse of himself in the mirror. Satisfied that his eyeliner hadn’t smudged and his hair was still in decent shape, he opened the door in time to see Cleave pull a beautiful, blue and chrome beast to a stop in the spot that was designated for his apartment. Since he didn’t have a car, it usually sat empty unless he had visitors. He quickly stepped outside and locked the door behind him.

  Climbing off the Harley, Cleave looked like a biker god come to earth. He wore his dark hair styled back and he’d trimmed his beard. JJ took a quiet thrill in imagining Cleave grooming himself for their “date.” Dark jeans wrapped up his long legs as he made his way up the walk to where JJ was frozen to the small concrete slab in front of his door.

  Cleave didn’t say anything, just pulled his sunglasses off his face and hung them on the collar of his dark blue shirt. It was the exact shade of his eyes. He stopped in front of JJ.

  “You okay?”

  JJ licked his lips, knowing that his eyes and the heat he could feel creeping up his neck had to be giving him away. “Yeah, uh, I’m good.”

  Looking him up and down, Cleave stepped up until he was right in JJ’s space. JJ’s back pressed against the door and the delicious scent of Cleave overwhelmed his senses. With one hand pressed to the door beside JJ’s head, Cleave leaned down until JJ could feel the warm rush of Cleave’s breath against his mouth.

  “There’s just one thing I think we need to do first,” Cleave whispered into the space between them before he closed the distance and pressed their lips together. Warmth burst low in JJ’s belly and he groaned. Did Cleave have any idea how long JJ had dreamed about this? How many times he’d imagined what it would feel like to have Cleave’s lips on his, Cleave’s hands on his skin. With bravery born of a lust so potent JJ thought he’d die from it, he surged up off the door, wrapping his arms around Cleave’s neck and nipping his bottom lip until he gasped. JJ took it as invitation and thrust his tongue inside.

  Big, strong hands slid around his hips, skirting his ass and running up under his shirt, lighting the skin of his back on fire. Cleave jerked him forward, nearly lifting JJ off his feet, and angled his head to deepen their kiss further. It felt like coming home, like there was no way this was the first time Cleave had been pressed so close against him.

  A loud whistle broke them apart and JJ hid his face against Cleave’s chest. He didn’t look at Cleave’s face, but whatever their onlookers saw there had them shutting up and moving on. Without letting him put an inch of space between them, Cleave pressed a kiss to JJ’s temple. The hands that had gripped him so tightly traced gentle circles on the skin of his lower back. He blew out a trembly breath trying to get himself under control, to somehow not reveal how affected he was.

  Lowering his head, Cleave kissed the shell of JJ’s ear. “Will you look at me for a minute?”

  JJ swallowed and lifted his head.

  “I didn’t mean to just spring that on you, but I figured boyfriend’s would have at least kissed before, right?”

  Those words had the power to cripple JJ where he stood, but the look on Cleave’s face—on Eric’s face—said so much more. His pupils were blown wide, the softness around his eyes and mouth, the way he kept looking at JJ’s lips, and the calloused hands on his bare skin still holding him close told a fuller story. The important thing was that while Cleave was pretending to be his boyfriend, they would be together and there would be more opportunities to touch. JJ didn’t plan to squander one of them. He rose up on his toes, sliding his arms back over Cleave’s shoulders. “Exactly.” Then JJ kissed him slow and sweet before pulling back and stepping down onto the sidewalk and over to Cleave’s waiting Harley.

  3

  Fuck, but JJ played dirty. Cleave had been hard the entire drive to the Lowell estate where JJ’s band was playing. Not only from that kiss, but having the warmth of JJ’s body pressed all along his back and hips as the Harley cruised farther out of town. Despite being able to feel JJ all around him, he was still afraid he was dreaming. The first time he’d gotten on a motorcycle, he’d been eighteen and the bike had been Axel’s. He didn’t know it then, but throwing his leg over that Harley—and eventually becoming a Heretic—would not only save, but completely change his life. In some ways for the better and some, like losing touch with JJ, for the worse—he could still remember turning onto the open road for the first time and wishing for the weight of JJ behind him.

  Now, he had that. JJ’s arms were wrapped snug around his waist, hands clasped over his stomach. Reaching down, he rested one of his hands over JJ’s, smiling to himself when JJ started to stroke the inside of his wrist. According to the directions JJ had given him, they should be arriving soon. The Harley glided around a curve in the road and a huge house, set back from the road on a lush, manicured lawn came into view. A black, wrought iron fence surrounded the property, and two security guards stood to either side of the long driveway’s gate.

  Cleave slowed down and turned in, pulling to a stop when one of the security guys raised his hand.

  “Cleave,” Mace said, looking him over before his eyes moved back to JJ. “Didn’t think you were working tonight.” Mace and Riot were decked out in the club’s security business’s gear—black tactical pants, combat boots, black t-shirt with security across the back, and black ball cap with the same.

  Cleave’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t wanted to poke his nose in and ask questions about a job he wouldn’t be on, but he’d hoped that JJ’s gig and the Heretic’s job weren’t one and the same. “I’m not.” He tilted his head back toward JJ. “JJ’s band is playing here tonight.”

  Mace lifted an eyebrow. “In that case, you have an invitation?”

  JJ let go of his waist to reach into one of his pockets to produce a folded white envelope. Mace took it from his outstretched hand and after inspecting the contents, handed it back and nodded at Riot to open the gate. “You boys don’t have too much fun, now,” he called as Cleave started the bike and drove them up to the house.

  “Weren’t those Iron Heretic guys?” JJ asked over Cleave’s shoulder.

  Cleave glanced back as they made their way down the drive. “Yep.” Once they parked, Cleave offered JJ his hand to help him off the bike.

  “Did you know they’d be here?”

  “I knew we had a job this weekend, but I didn’t know it was here.”

  “Is it going to be a problem?” JJ stepped close, looking up at Cleave while he ran his fingers through his hair to re-order it from the bike ride. He looked stunning in black skinny jeans, combat boots half-unlaced, and an old school leather jacket with more buckles than there were functions for.

  Cleave gripped JJ’s hip and pulled him closer, a hot streak of possessiveness lighting up his chest. “Nope. I told my prez that I have a date with my singer boyfriend tonight.”

  A small smile spread across JJ’s face. “I should get inside and find the band.”

  Cleave laced his fingers between JJ’s. “Lead the way. You’re not leaving my sight tonight.”

  As soon as they walked in the door, a well dressed man with salt and pepper hair approached, holding out his arms to JJ. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show when you didn’t arrive with the band. Everyone is looking forward to hearing the gorgeous voice of Jensen James.”

  “Hi, Steven,” JJ said. He let the man embrace him, but only returned the hug with one arm, keeping his other hand firmly in Cleave’s. Steven pulled back from JJ, one hand lingering on his shoulder long enough that Cleave cleared his throat. “Steven, this is Cleave. Cleave, this is Steven Lowell.”

  “Cleave?” Steven asked, extending his hand. “Aren’t you one of the Heretics handling my security tonight?”

  Clasping Steven’s hand in a firm grip, Cleave put on his most charming smile. “I am a Heretic, but I’m here for JJ tonight. Not the club.”

  “Oh yes, the mysterious boyfriend.” Steven smiled right back at him. The man was slimy, li
ke an eel sluicing through the water looking for its next meal. “Jensen, you didn’t say he was a Heretic, and a handsome one, too.”

  “It didn’t really come up,” JJ said, and then tugged lightly on his hand. “Well, we need to get the stage set up.”

  As they untangled themselves from Steven, Cleave caught Calix’s eye from across the room. His president’s eyes moved to JJ before coming back to Cleave’s as he gave the slightest nod. He walked JJ to where the rest of the band was arranging electrical cords and setting up their instruments on the stage. “Will you be okay here for a minute?” he asked quietly.

  “Of course.” JJ looked up at him and out of some reflex, he leaned down and kissed him. It was chaste, just a slow press of lips, but it felt significant. He pulled back, not going far, and met JJ’s eyes.

  “I won’t be far.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” Cleave claimed JJ’s lips again because in that moment, he knew there was nothing fake about the affection staring back at him out of JJ’s dark eyes. “Knock’em dead.” With that, Cleave walked across the room and positioned his back against the wall next to Calix where he’d have a clear view of the stage.

  “I assume the pushy bastard you’re here to guard him against is Lowell,” Calix said, eyes never stopping their scan of the room.

  “Yes.”

  Calix nodded. “Good. Man’s a piece of work.” He turned then, black eyes focused on Cleave’s. “But he’s our client and I won’t have this evening disrupted.”

  “Understood. As soon as JJ’s done, I’m getting him out of here.”

  “Good.”

  When the last note of their final song ended, the same adrenaline that always pulsed through JJ at the end of a show sang in his blood. Only that rush had never been this good, because as he looked out over the crowded space of Lowell’s opulent home, he could see Cleave looking back at him.

  “Thank you! Our host asked me to announce that the evening’s next entertainment is ready if everyone could please make their way toward the back veranda. Have a great night!” JJ placed the mic back in it’s holder, and along with his bandmates, bowed as the crowd bestowed another round of applause and whistles on them.

  The moment the applause died down, Cleave was in front of the stage. JJ could see Steven watching out of the corner of his eye while the room emptied around them, and before he could second guess himself, launched himself at Cleave. The big man didn’t budge an inch as he caught JJ, gripping his ass and holding him close while JJ wrapped his legs around his waist.

  “You were amazing,” Cleave said against his lips.

  With a huge smile pulling at his face, JJ kissed Cleave, then dropped his legs to the floor. When he looked over, Steven was nowhere in sight. “Thank you and sorry I just sweated all over you.”

  “Gotta say, I don’t mind.” Cleave’s eyes were dark. “Want to get out of here?”

  JJ’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, please.” Cleave took his hand and led him back out the way they’d come. From around the house, he could hear the crowd cheering, but couldn’t tell what they were cheering for. “Do you know what the other entertainment is?”

  Cleave took a breath and nodded. “A fight.”

  Oh. JJ would never have thought of that. When they reached the Harley, Cleave threw his leg over and then held the bike steady for JJ to climb on behind him. The guys at the gate didn’t try to stop them, and Cleave pulled out of the driveway and the rumbling engine morphed into a roar. JJ was fairly certain Cleave had aimed the bike in the opposite direction from the city, but he didn’t care. If Cleave wanted to take the long way home, JJ had no complaints. He settled himself firmly against Cleave’s muscular back and let the warm spring air wash over him.

  The bike’s headlight cut a path through the darkness, and when Cleave slowed down again, JJ looked over his shoulder to see they were pulling onto a narrow path that led back into the woods. “Where are we?”

  “There’s a pretty little place up here I wanted you to see,” Cleave said back over his shoulder. He pulled the bike to a stop in front of a moonlit clearing. It was completely surrounded by walls of thick trees; it looked like someone was shining a giant flashlight down a dark cylinder, making the ground glow in comparison to the blackness beyond its borders. Once they were parked, JJ climbed off and walked out into the light.

  Cleave dug around for a minute in one of the saddlebags before joining JJ and spreading out a thick blanket over the grass. He plopped down on the ground, laying flat on his back and patted the spot next to him. “Thought this might be a nice place to talk.”

  Feeling brave, JJ stepped one leg over Cleave’s body and lowered himself down until he was straddling Cleave’s hips. He gasped as his ass settled on a prominent hardness.

  Cleave groaned as his hands landed on JJ’s hips. “You don’t fight fair.”

  JJ smirked. “I’ve got to use all the advantages at my disposal.”

  Sitting up, Cleave gripped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss so ferocious it left JJ gasping for breath. “You don’t need advantages with me.” Cleave shook his head, more to himself than to JJ. “You’re already holding all the cards.”

  They crashed together again in a decadent dance of lips and tongue. JJ dropped his hands to Cleave’s jeans and worked until he got the button undone. The moment he slipped his fingers inside and wrapped them around the silken steel length of Cleave, he thought he might come in his jeans. Cleave’s hips bucked as JJ stroked, pulling Cleave’s dick out of his pants so he could watch.

  “Fuck,” Cleave breathed against his face, lips parted and eyes glazed. He reached for JJ a moment later, getting them open and reaching inside to free JJ’s cock from the confines of his underwear. Cleave’s calloused skin was the perfect torture against his sensitive flesh, and he whimpered when Cleave began to stroke him in earnest.

  “Oh god, that’s it,” JJ panted, squirming on Cleave’s thighs and trying to match his rhythm to the one Cleave was using to drive him mad. Cleave’s legs trembled beneath him and the grip he had on JJ’s cock tightened as shots of hot cum erupted from his dick. Cleave let out a satisfied rumble, dropping his mouth to JJ’s shoulder and sucking on the skin there. JJ went off like a shot, his shout as his orgasm ripped through him loud in the stillness of the clearing. “Holy shit.” He laughed and grinned as Cleave chuckled against his throat.

  Slipping his arms around Cleave’s shoulders, JJ pulled them flush together and rested his forehead against Cleave’s. “This isn’t fake is it?”

  “It was never fake. Not from the minute I heard your voice on my phone.”

  Cleave leaned back enough to pull off his shirt to use to clean them up. He pushed JJ’s leather jacket off his shoulders and lifted the hem of JJ’s shirt until he lifted his arms so Cleave could pull it off of him. Cleave tossed their discarded clothes to the side, then laid back on the blanket, taking JJ with him.

  JJ slid to one side, settling his head on Cleave’s chest and throwing an arm and a leg over his body. Cleave’s arm around his back held him close. They lay silently for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of their naked skin pressed together, before Cleave drew in a breath. “It won’t always be easy, you know? Being with a Heretic. Being with me.”

  “I don’t think any relationships are ever always easy, but I’m willing to try if you are.” JJ tilted his chin up to get Cleave to look at him. “I want to be with you.”

  Cleave’s smile was as bright as the moonlight. “I want to be with you, too. We’ll find a way to face all those not always easy times together just like we did before.”

  He sealed his words with kiss.

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  About the Author

  Stories have always been Michelle Frost's escape. Even as a kid, she can remember writing stor
ies featuring her favorite cartoon characters. Now, her characters are a little more grown up, as are the stories she likes to tell. A self-proclaimed coffee addict and a bit of an introvert, she can most likely be found at any given time with her hands on a keyboard or her nose in a book.

  * * *

  www.michellefrostwrites.com

  Sign up for Michelle’s newsletter HERE.

  Join her Facebook group The Frost Files.

  Also by Michelle Frost

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  Iron Heretics MC Series

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  Cold Light - Criminal Delights: Assassins (A prequel)

  Disarm - Coming Soon!

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  Slate Mountain Wolf Pack

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  Half Moon Above

  Crescent Moon’s Curve

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  Valentine’s Inc.

  (Contemporary MM Romance)

  Kiss Off

  Ship Off

  * * *

 

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