The Faintest Spark: Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #1.5

by Christina Lee

  With that melancholy thought heavy in my gut, I sat down on my bed and pulled out my phone to text Mal. But before I could find the right words I received a message from him instead: Probably best to lay low.

  Me: Been thinking the same thing. Don’t need any more suspicion.

  Mal: Sorry about that. I’ll make it right.

  Me: Don’t be sorry. Just--thanks again for what you did.

  Mal: No need to thank me, it was the right thing to do. Catch you later.

  The remainder of the day, the townsfolk came out in droves. The street was blocked off, and we showcased our bikes and drank keg beer from the Roadside stand in folding chairs on a sunny lawn. There was a live band, antique cars, carnival games, and a fundraiser to collect toys and clothing for abused children headed up by the Disciples. If you made a donation, you’d get a chance to ride a couple of the hogs, which meant Mal pretty much had a crowd around him all day. I’d suspect it would’ve happened even without the charity event—people were drawn to him, and had I not been holding myself back the entire time, I’d have been right there too. Pathetic.

  Instead, I stuck close to Fish in a show of solidarity and tried not to make much eye contact with Mal. The times our gazes did meet, it was as if neither of us could drink the other in fast enough before we had to look away. Maybe he was longing for one more chance as much as I was. Even still, I needed to accept the fact that we’d simply had a thing. I had jerked him off good, and he had delivered a kiss that rocked my world in an empty stairwell. While all of that was heady and fucking hot, now it was time to move on. No way we could have a repeat and not suffer the consequences from it.

  If word ever got out Mal had been with me, he might not only lose the respect of other clubs but the men in his charge as well. I’d never out him and besides, he probably needed time to get his head together after all of that. Most likely, he’d chalk it up to experimentation and call it a day. No matter how much I wanted to keep our friendship going, it was unrealistic.

  Later that evening, the celebration continued at the Roadside Bar. It was way more packed than the previous night. Another cover band had already been set up playing rock classics; the tables were packed as well as the bar and the dance floor. I noticed Mal was sitting with DJ and Slider, and Felix was nuzzling in the corner with the same brunette as last night.

  Fish and I ordered beers at the crowded bar from the same nosy bartender—who now threw me a knowing glance, guess word spread fast in small towns—and found a space to stand near a wall. We hadn’t been there for more than five minutes when we were approached by a couple of locals, a blonde and a brunette, who asked us questions about our cuts and bikes.

  I wasn’t at all interested but I played the part anyway, if not for Fish then for all the other men who had been in that meeting. I knew it was a dumb thought because I didn’t have to prove my worth—or sexuality for that matter—to anybody. And the only person in the room who seemed to understand was the same man I was struggling to stay clear of tonight.

  But I could feel his eyes on me the entire time we talked to the ladies, when they dragged us to the dance floor, and after the blonde wound her arms around my neck. She was a sweet girl, a little tipsy maybe, but by that point so was I. Not sleeping very well for days on end would do that to you.

  When she pulled me closer and buried her head against my neck, I didn’t stop her, but I certainly didn’t feel anything either—not because she wasn’t a man, but because she wasn’t Mal. So, I pretended her pointy chin was rough stubble and her floral scent was musky instead. If only I could get a little more time with Mal—to touch him, kiss him, make him feel good. But that was an empty wish that would lead us to a dead end.

  It wasn’t until I pulled back in an attempt not to lead her on that I glanced in Mal’s direction and saw his eyes. Dark and stormy and sexy as hell. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed he was jealous of the blonde. And the very idea set all my nerve endings on fire.

  9

  Malachi

  I could barely stand watching Sawyer with his hands on somebody else, even if it was only dancing. But then the girl had to get cozy and nuzzle his neck and honestly, I wanted to get up from the table, grab him by the hand, and drag him out of there so we could finish where we left off in the stairwell.

  But who was I kidding with all of this nonsense? It wasn’t like this attraction could go anywhere—not publicly at least—and I think Sawyer knew it as well. The crazy thing was, I sort of wanted it to and under different circumstances, I might’ve been all in, hoping like hell I could make him mine. This insane need was building inside of me the more I was around him. What had started as the faintest spark had developed into a full-fledged pyrotechnic display. My skin felt tight and my heart uncomfortably full in my chest, and I could barely see anybody else in the room except for him.

  I needed to pull it together or some folks might start to wonder why I could barely yank my eyes from the dance floor—Fish especially. Despite him being preoccupied with the brunette, he was shrewd as hell, which was probably why his hackles were always raised, ready to strike at the first sign of threat.

  So, I stood up and joined another table in order to make nice with some heads of clubs I didn’t get a chance to interact with at the car show. After my outburst at the meeting, I wanted to be sure we could all remain on good terms despite our differences. The idea of it sat heavily in my gut, and I wondered if it was only a precursor of days to come. Things were shifting, and I was evolving, not only as a man but also as a club president and I wasn’t certain the Disciples fit with this crew anymore. We were no longer my father’s club, and I was proud of that.

  Sawyer and Fish danced and flirted with the same women for the better part of an hour. But who was counting? I convinced myself the only reason Sawyer was entertaining the brunette’s friend was to either show loyalty to Fish or avoid conflict. By doing so, he was also sending a clear message to everyone else in the room that he was his own man. And despite my confusing feelings, it made me admire him more.

  Another prez was telling me about the troubles his club was having with some locals over territory, and I glanced toward the packed dance floor again when the music changed to a slow number. Sawyer was in the center of the room with the same blonde. His mouth was moving and his hand was motioning as he told her some story or another when suddenly she leaned in and planted her mouth against his. My heart jolted in my chest as a fierce possessive instinct almost made me spring out of my chair.

  Sawyer startled at the kiss then grew motionless, allowing the woman to rub her lips against his. He pulled away and smiled, his fingers gripping her waist while his other hand lifted to his mouth to swipe at his lips with his forearm. In the next instant, his eyes sought mine across the room. His cheeks colored as he stared me down, an array of emotions flitting across his face and I wondered if he was feeling just as twisted up inside.

  I was pulled into a side conversation with DJ about our junkyard business and the next time I looked up, Sawyer and the blonde were gone. Fish was nowhere to be found either, so I could only conclude they had all left to take the party elsewhere.

  I slid my cell from my pocket and considered texting him. But then I’d only be a cockblock if he was having a good time. Except the way his eyes sought mine out from across the room…had I only imagined it? Maybe it was a veiled message to show me in no uncertain terms we were only a hookup.

  Except that wasn’t the Sawyer I had come to know. He was honest and sincere and didn’t play games. At least I didn’t think he did. Hell, listen to me, like some teenager with a crush. He didn’t owe me anything.

  Ah, fuck it. Before I could reason my way through, my fingers were scrolling over the keys and then I just went for it.

  You alone? Don’t answer this if you’re not.

  My heart beat a tattoo pattern in my chest as I waited on his response.

  When I didn’t hear back, I figured I was right, and he was occu
pied.

  I stood up, wanting to get the hell out of there but not wanting to seem in a hurry. I motioned to DJ that I was getting another drink at the bar. Maybe that would give me some time to get my emotions in check.

  “You good?” I asked him and he nodded before returning to his previous conversation. On the way to the bar, I passed by Felix and the same girl from last night. He must’ve been sweet on her. Too bad they lived hours apart.

  “What time do you want to take off in the morning?” he asked me.

  “By checkout at the latest,” I replied as he smiled at the girl, probably calculating how many hours they had left to screw around.

  But as I neared the bar and saw how packed it was, I decided I was done for the night. I didn’t need another beer, and maybe I could actually get some sleep before hitting the road. I briefly considered whether or not I should try to hook up with anybody at the bar, but that thought was futile. Nobody else would do. Too bad he didn’t feel the same.

  I skirted the elevator again and decided to head up the stairwell to my room when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Yeah. Door’s unlocked.

  Shit. I gripped the railing, my knees going weak. He was alone and wasn’t mincing words. I liked that about him. Maybe if we could just have one more night, I could get rid of this obsession I had with him. Or at least that was what I was trying to tell myself.

  When I got to his room, I looked up and down the hall to double-check I was alone before twisting the handle to step inside. Shutting the door behind me, my gaze spanned the length of the empty space. A sound from the bathroom drew my attention to the open doorway and I immediately noticed the fog on the mirror as I inched closer and glanced inside.

  Sawyer stood under the showerhead, beads of water rolling off his smooth skin. His muscular back was decorated with colorful tattoos I hadn’t had the privilege of seeing yet, and the sight of his firm ass made me plump up like I never had before.

  I wasn’t certain if Sawyer left the bathroom door ajar as an open invitation but as his wet hair curled enticingly along the nape of his neck, I wanted nothing more than to touch him again.

  My hands shook with raw excitement and nerves. Just go with how you feel.

  10

  Malachi

  Without thinking it through, I kicked out of my boots. Moving toward the bed, I yanked off my shirt and flung it on the mattress along with my jeans and underwear, which ended up on the floor.

  When I stepped soundlessly inside the shower, Sawyer didn’t startle at my presence. He turned without uttering a single syllable, but as his gaze greedily roamed over my nakedness, his eyes said plenty. I want you. I need you. My cock swelled and blushed red in response. And seeing him completely bare did things to me—from his hard and pointed nipples to the dark thatch of hair surrounding his impressive cock that was steadily filling in length at my perusal.

  When a moan released from his throat, I inched closer and reached for the washcloth he clutched in his fist. I swiped it across his neck and down his arms, imagining the suds cleansing all the places the blonde had touched. “Don’t want anybody else’s mouth on you.”

  Did I just admit that out loud?

  Sawyer’s eyes blazed and his jaw dropped open. My fingers gripped the back of his damp hair. “Understand me?”

  “Don’t want anybody else.” His voice was strained as his breaths released in harsh pants. “Was making sure to stick close to Fish. So I just—”

  I didn’t let him finish as my mouth seized his in a desperate, all-consuming kiss. My tongue dug deep, tasting the mint mixed with alcohol on his breath. His fingers clawed my waist as he drew me closer, our stiff cocks aligning as we moaned into each other’s wet and hungry mouths.

  “I didn’t like it,” I said as I brushed kisses across his jaw and throat and down to his collarbone. I’d never had my mouth on another man’s body before but as I felt his unyielding muscles beneath my lips, my cock filled with more blood.

  “Nobody else,” he gasped as my tongue flicked across his tightened nipples.

  Letting my emotions and blinding lust lead me, I fell to my knees and came face-to-face with a long and hard cock. The words were on my lips that I didn’t know what in the hell I was doing, but I didn’t speak them out loud. I simply felt this overwhelmingly possessive need to taste him. Own him. Make him mine.

  Licking along his hipbones, I buried my nose in the patch of hair at his groin, feeling it pinch my jaw as his thighs shook against my shoulders. He smelled like soap and spice and even a hint of motor oil—which may well have seeped beneath his skin from his work at the garage—and goddamn if I didn’t love the scent. When I felt his cock bump against my cheek, I turned my head and took a tentative swipe at his length.

  Sawyer groaned, his head knocking against the tile wall. “Mal, you don’t have to—”

  To shut him up I grasped onto the base with my fist, mimicking what felt good when I jacked myself off. His words stalled on his lips when I brushed my mouth against the head. A hint of salt burst against the tip of my tongue, so I tried for more by enclosing the crown between my lips and sucking. Sawyer cried out, his fingers clawing at the wall like I had just titled his world upside down. Little did he realize he had done the same for me.

  Sheathing my teeth, I gingerly bobbed my head up and down and used my tongue to map over his long vein, absorbing the layers of sensations I was feeling in that moment. His taste, his smell, his noises. Pleasing him made my chest fill with some sort of Neanderthal pride.

  “Fucking hell. You sure you’ve never done this before?” he asked, and that only encouraged me to keep at the intoxicating task. I sucked harder and drew him deeper, nearly gagging on his length while I gained control of my breaths through my nose.

  It was a sloppy first effort but given his noisy gasps and his hips thrusting to meet my mouth, I could only guess I was doing something right. One thing was for certain; I loved driving him wild. It fulfilled a visceral need inside me that I didn’t realize I’d been missing.

  My other hand reached up to grasp his balls, which were hanging heavy and low, remembering how much I enjoyed the sensation. The hair surrounding them was soft and dark, and I liked the feel of their weight in my hand. When I palmed them and tugged a little he cried out, his hips sloping forward carelessly, attempting to find purchase.

  I enjoyed being dominant in the bedroom and the feeling with Sawyer was no different, even though we weren’t quite on equal footing in this scenario. But as he urgently fed his cock to my lips and grunted carnal sounds that made gooseflesh line my skin, I felt like we were pretty evenly matched. For one brief, shining moment I imagined being buried deep inside him and drawing out his desperate noises. Yet, the very idea also felt scary and foreign, despite the fact that I’d had anal sex with plenty of women before.

  Being inside Sawyer would be…fucking hell. I faltered, nearly coming on the spot, imagining my cock in his tight ass, being enveloped fully by him, making him lose his mind. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked in earnest on his cock, now more enticing than ever.

  “Oh damn.” His fingers grasped onto my hair and tugged. “I’m going to—”

  Unexpectedly, he yanked his cock from my mouth, fisted his length, and pumped his jizz onto the shower floor.

  “Holy fuck,” he gasped, his legs nearly giving out as his hand swung up to claw at the wall.

  “Why the hell didn’t you let me finish?” I was still on my knees staring at his softening cock, wondering how his come would’ve tasted in my throat.

  “Dunno,” he said between heavy breaths. “My first time, I didn’t exactly like—”

  “You don’t get to decide that for me,” I growled, cutting him off.

  To make my point, I leaned forward and clutched the base of his softened cock. I swiped my tongue across the slit, marveling at the salty and tangy taste of him on my tongue.

  “Fuck, Mal,” he whimpered as I bent to dig my tongue into the slit. It made me w
ant to devour him all over again. Make him beg me for release.

  I sprang up from my knees and reached for his jaw, fastening our mouths together, driving my tongue between his lips so he could taste his own come.

  He groaned and grabbed onto my ass, hauling me closer, our skin clammy and wet, slicking together. He kissed me deeply, and our tongues grappled for dominance. When his fingers parted my cheeks, I felt exposed in a way I never had before. But I also felt completely on fire, like I wanted him to touch me anywhere and everywhere his heart desired.

  11

  Sawyer

  This man was going to be my ruin.

  I don’t want anybody else’s mouth on you.

  The way he jumped into the task of getting me off when he’d never had another man’s cock in his mouth before was unreal. Like he was all about pleasing me—taking care of me—and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I just knew I wanted to relish the feeling for as long as I could because soon enough, we’d be on the road and back to reality.

  Despite being stiff and leaking, Mal reached for the washcloth again. He took his sweet old time cleansing the residual come off my groin, which plumped me right back up, especially as he painstakingly—almost reverently—soaped up my balls and flipped me around to run the rag down my back to the globes of my ass. I heard his breath catch as he soaped my crease and my head pressed against the wall as I fought the urge to squirm and push against his hand.

  Afterward, he reached for the shampoo bottle and washed my hair, the whole time staring into my eyes, almost marveling at me—or maybe at what he’d done to another man. I remained nearly motionless, afraid to break the spell we were under if I complained about his slow pace or fought him for the rag. I would never have guessed that this gruff and assertive club leader would be such a gentle caretaker behind closed doors.