Candy Kiss

by Cameron Riley

  He thought about Draven’s motorcycle, his tattoos and now his jacket. Alarm bells reverberated inside his head. Everything pointed to Draven being a member of an outlaw MC club. But he shook the thought from his head. Anyone could dress a certain way. It never meant they had to adopt the traits or fit a stereotype.

  As he left Draven’s hotel room, he looked around and saw the man walking toward him. He looked tall and powerful and aside from looking like an Adonis, he could have easily been a motorcycle thug.

  “Is that everything?” Draven asked.

  “Yeah, that’s everything,” Elliot said. He had to ask. He wanted to put his suspicions to rest. “Hey, you got a cool jacket in here. Where’d you get it?”

  “There’s a store that sells them back at Good Hope.” Draven locked the door and they walked to the elevator.

  “Cool. It makes you look like one of those motorcycle gang members,” Elliot replied, deciding to press the issue. He wasn’t sure why he was satisfied with Draven’s vague answer. He wondered if it was his upbringing. His dad’s way of handling things that had somehow rubbed off on him.

  “Does it?” Draven said. “You aren’t one of the guys that uncle was talking about are you? The guys who want to join motorcycle clubs?”

  “Oh, no,” Elliot said. “Come on, do I look like the type?”

  “I see your point, but you must have something that you're hiding under that good boy look.” Draven “Don’t tell you you’re all sweet, you work in a candy store and you’re law abiding.”

  “That’s me. I’m quite boring when you get down to it. I’ve never left Stockton, I’ve never done anything outrageous. I have never even been -” Elliot cut himself off before he finished his sentence. Was he an idiot? Why did he want to tell Draven that?

  “You’ve never been what?”

  “Never mind.” Elliot said.

  Once they loaded everything into the car and they were set to go, Draven was about to go over to his motorcycle when he turned to Elliot.

  “What if I were a member of a club?” he asked. “Would that make it harder to work with me?”

  Elliot’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “No. Not really, but I’ve heard about those types of guys having shootouts. They sound really wild.”

  “They’re not that bad. To be honest, I’ve met a few and they’re good guys,” Draven said. “They just live by their own laws.”

  Elliot watched Draven walk to his bike. He wondered if Draven was one of the guys who wanted to join a club. He also couldn’t believe what Draven said, the outlaw motorcycle gangs looked like thugs, well, that’s how the media portrayed them anyway. He started the car and followed Draven back to Jethro’s house.

  “Do you want me to carry this into the storage closet?” Elliot asked, lifting the box, which was lighter now that it had been emptied of most of the stuff.

  “Yeah. I didn’t think the room would be this small, and I don’t want to remove the table or the bookshelf until Jethro gets back.”

  “He won’t mind, you know,” Elliot said as he made his way to the closet. “We should ask him later.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather do that first.”

  Elliot tried opening the closet door, and needed to give it an extra hard push with his shoulder as he was holding the box. Inside, he found a place on a shelf where he tucked the box in and then made his way out. But when he pulled on the door it was jammed shut.

  Damn it.

  After pulling at it for a few minutes he called out. “Draven!”

  “No need to shout, I’m here,” Draven said as he walked into the closet carrying the last bag. “Haha. What happened, you got yourself stuck in here or something?”

  “Yes, just make sure you don’t let the —”

  The door closed.

  Elliot swallowed his words and stared at Draven in shock. The taller man merely shrugged. Brushing past Elliot, he took the suitcase to the back of the storage room.

  “We’re stuck,” Elliot said.

  “Just let me find a place to put this and I’ll get us out,” Draven said, unable to sound serious. “It might just take an extra pull.”

  “You think I didn’t try it?” Elliot said, putting his hands on his hips.

  “You did, but you know. Your arms are kind of slender,” Draven said. He raised his palms at the scowl that Elliot shot him. “I’m just saying, the door looks kind of flimsy. I’ve handled sturdier-looking doors. From the looks of it, one hard pull should do the trick.”

  Draven went to the door and pulled it. Nothing happened. He gave it another tug. Then he stopped, looked back at Elliot and cursed.

  “What’s up?” Elliot asked. “Not as easy as you thought?”

  “No. I might have to kick through it.” Draven ran his hand over the surface of the door as if to find a weak point.

  “No,” Elliot said. “You can’t do that. What’s Jethro gonna say if he comes home and finds his door smashed to splinters?”

  “You have a point. But we don’t have a choice. Jethro's gonna be in the hospital for about a week, right?”

  “Yeah, they said if the procedure goes well,” Elliot said, and immediately hated himself for imagining it would go otherwise.

  “Then we can’t stay in here that long. It’s too hot, for starters,” Draven said. Then he did something Elliot was totally unprepared for. He removed his shirt and revealed a chiseled body covered in tattoos.

  Elliot sucked in air and fought hard to keep his eyes off the other man’s naked upper body. It was a tough task. A very tough task. Draven caught him staring, which could have been worse as a few more minutes of drinking in the other man’s beautiful frame and he might have ended up drooling.

  “You have more tattoos,” Elliot said. “I don’t think I’ve meant anyone with as many tattoos as you.”

  “You checking me out, Ellie?”

  “No. And don’t call me Ellie,” Elliot said, folding his arms across his chest. He was grateful that the lighting in the closest was dim. The last thing he needed was for the other man to see his cheeks turning red.

  Draven regarded him thoughtfully for a few seconds and no matter how much Elliot tried to avoid the tension that was palpable in the room, he couldn’t. The silence was like a third person in the room. Elliot looked around the room to get away from Draven, who leaned back on the far wall and looked at him. When Elliot brought his attention back to Draven, the man was still looking at him. After a few times of this happening, Elliot spoke up.

  “What’s the deal? Why are you looking at me like--”

  “Why were you in the bar that night?” Draven asked. He looked directly at Elliot as if he were trying to see through him, see into him and find out everything about him.

  “What?” Elliot asked. The question came out of nowhere and he had not been expecting it. “Well, I was there to meet friends.”

  “You looked stunning,” Draven said. “Do you always look like that when you go out to meet friends?

  Elliot leaned back on the wall and they stared at each other. He couldn’t figure out what was so overwhelming about the man and why he felt completely out of his comfort zone around him. Elliot had never felt like this around a guy before.

  “What you don’t believe me?”

  “Back at the hospital, you was about to tell me you’ve never been kissed.”

  Elliot felt every muscle in his body tense and he stood up straight. “No, I never,” he almost yelled.

  Draven smiled. “Am I getting to you?”

  “No,” Elliot said.

  “You wanna know what I think?” Draven said. “I think you were on a date.”

  “Come on,” Elliot said. “You’re messing with me.”

  “Your friends didn’t show up or something?” Draven shook his head. “Like I believe that. I think you were on a date and you got stood up.”

  “Are you trying to piss --” Elliot began, but stopped as the man moved closer.

  “All I’m trying to say is on
ly an idiot would stand a guy like you up,” Draven moved closer. “If we ever went on a date.”

  “We wouldn’t go on a date,” Elliot said. “For one, Jethro wouldn’t stand for it.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Elliot unfolded his arms and leaned back on the wall, not wanting to appear too apprehensive even though he knew that Draven was moving closer. He wanted him to move closer. He wanted to be touched. He wanted Draven to be into him, just as he was into Draven.

  “Well, we’re adults. We can do what we want, right?” Draven said. He was closer. So close that Elliot felt the heat from his breath caressing the side of his cheek.

  “I find it hard to believe that a guy like you would be interested in a guy like me,” Elliot said.

  “A guy like me?” Draven almost halted in his advance.

  Don’t stop! If Elliot’s thoughts came out of his mouth it would have been a scream as loud as a banshee. He yelled for the man to get closer and give him what he’d always dreamed about.

  “Yes, a guy like you. Tell me, are you really just an ordinary guy? You’re not a member of a motorcycle gang?”

  “You tell if you’ve ever been kissed and I’ll tell you if I’ve ever been in a gang,” Draven said.

  “Okay, fine. I’ve never been kissed. Hell, I’ve never been on a date. I’ve always known I was gay, but every time I thought a guy was into me, it turned out that he was more afraid to act on his feelings.”

  “No me,” Draven said. He was a millimeter away from Elliot’s lips.

  Elliot’s heart thundered in his chest and he could feel his pants grow tight. Come on, damn you! His mind cried out.

  “Wait,” Elliot said and placed his palms on Draven’s bare chest. The way his body reacted to feeling another man’s chest was insane. Elliot suddenly felt like he was in another person’s body. He stroked his insides, his hands shook, the nape of his neck grew damp with sweat and his throat tightened.

  His hands happened to land on each one of Draven’s pecs, which felt as hard as concrete slabs. And before he knew what was happening, his fingers dug into them as he gripped them. He wasn’t sure if it was the heat in the room, but he suddenly couldn’t get enough of Draven, whose scent was arousing.

  “What’s up?” Draven said.

  “Are you a member of a gang?”

  “I was a member of a motorcycle club, it was never a gang. It was more like family,” Draven said. His eyes stayed focused on Elliot, unwavering. It was as if they were trying to gauge the level of his response to see how deeply the information affected him.

  “Oh,” Elliot said, gulping. “And what’s the difference between what you were a part of and a gang?” Elliot couldn’t believe he was stalling. He was about to get kissed by the hottest guy he’d ever laid eyes on and he wanted to know about the man’s history? He clenched his jaw, feeling embarrassed.

  “We stood for something and we were about brotherhood and sisterhood.” Draven inhaled, deeply. “We had a motto.”

  “What did you stand for?” Elliot asked. “What was your motto?”

  “If you want something—take it!”

  Warm lips pressed against his own and in that instant every thought in Elliot’s head and all feeling in his body disappeared. He lifted his hand and ran it up Draven’s chest and brought it around his neck. The body that pressed into his was hard, demanding. Just as the kiss was.

  He never had time to panic about his rock-hard erection that drove itself into Draven or that he could feel that they both were erect.

  When he regained his senses, he felt the slick wet tongue of the man sliding in and out of his mouth. He grabbed the back of Draven’s head even tighter as the kiss became more passionate. His back was pressed hard into the wall. He was chest to chest with a man who felt like solid steel.

  Elliot didn’t want the kiss to end. He was floating. They were floating together, and he suddenly became afraid that if the other man stopped kissing him, if he was to be released from the powerful arms of the hot biker, he would fall and fall hard. His limbs became boneless and his head felt light at tasting the man’s sweet lips. Gasping into his mouth and sucking the man’s tongue had affected him on a physiological level.

  Elliot felt teeth nibbling his lips playfully, and he pulled away to see the other man’s smile, but was soon devoured by his lips again. This time Elliot welcomed it with even more desperation, even more need.

  When they stopped, the world still seemed to be spinning, Elliot kept his hold on Draven’s neck and they stared into each other’s eyes.

  They smiled.

  Chapter 11

  Draven

  Jethro wasn’t happy that Draven had kicked through his door, he said there was a trick to it. Draven couldn’t tell his uncle that he was too busy trying to figure out the trick to make out with Elliot to learn the tricks of opening the door.

  “Well, I’ll if you take my card, you can go out and buy one,” Jethro said. The surgery went well, but he needed to stay in the hospital for a week to recover. This seemed to annoy him, but he was otherwise fine with it. He had no choice.

  Draven and Elliot visited Jethro on the day of the operation, but the nurses said that he was sleeping. They surgery had gone well. So, they returned the next day. Both guys sat on either side of Jethro’s bed.

  “Don’t sweat it, I can’t take your money, Uncle. I’ve got the cash I’ll get it,” he said.

  “And you’re okay with hanging it yourself?”

  “I’m good with my hands, uncle,” Draven said. He winked at Elliot who gave him a suggestive look.

  “If there are any problems at the store tomorrow, you know with the deliveries or the stock, don’t hesitate to call me. Got it?” Jethro said to Elliot. “I don't want you to think you must not disturb me or that I need my beauty sleep.”

  “Got it,” Elliot said.

  They left the hospital and got into Jethro’s car. Elliot took the driver's seat. “We’re nearly out of gas,” he said. “We better get some on our way back.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Draven said.

  They sat in silence for a while, Draven deciding when the right time was to make another move on Elliot or if there was in fact a right time. Elliot was an amazing kisser, it was surprising that it had been his first kiss. But he was still repressed, even after they had their tongues down each other’s throats.

  Draven stared outside of the window. He thought about Michael and what was happening back at Good Hope. He couldn’t believe how the life he’d known for so long seemed so distant with a simple change in scenery. Prison felt just like being on the outside, the place was filled with criminals and laws that were meant to be followed in order to stay alive. The only thing that was different about prison and living in Good Hope was that he couldn’t be himself.

  But was Stockton any different? Draven wondered. Or was it that the company had changed? He was now with a hot guy who was sane and innocent. In fact, Elliot was so innocent that Draven had to hold himself back because he thought that he was corrupting him.

  He felt something light touch his thigh. Peering down, Draven saw Elliot’s hand resting on him. Shit. His cock jumped in his pants and he shifted slightly in his seat. The other man kept his eyes trained on the road.

  This was a side to Elliot that went beyond the plain look of the candy store clerk. This was the guy who he saw that night at the bar.

  Draven exhaled and settled into his seat. “How long until we get to the store?” he asked.

  “We’re here right now,” Elliot said.

  “I don’t like the look of this one, is there another place we can go?” Draven undid his pants and pulled out his aching cock. It was swollen. He needed to get off.

  “Yeah, there’s another place,” Elliot said. “You like to go commando?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft.

  “Sometimes,” Draven said, he stiffened as he felt the other man’s touch. “You’ve changed since yesterday.”
>
  “Well, I hope you like the new me. Yesterday gave me such a thrill, I thought that maybe we could do something just as exciting today.”

  Draven sat back and closed his eyes. “Well, I’m really liking what you’re doing down there. Just don’t stop.”

  “Yes, sir,” Elliot said, adding a playful pep to his voice.

  “And make sure you don’t take your eyes off the road.”

  “I can handle both,” Elliot said.

  Draven was used to this treatment. This was how everyone treated him as soon as they learned who he was. They went out of their way just to impress him. Elliot’s hands fumbled around, stroking and massaging Draven’s shaft and balls. It was clumsy, but Draven sat back and enjoyed it. He didn’t expect Elliot to transform into a nympho overnight.

  “So, are you the leader of you club?” Elliot asked.

  “Hmm? No, not exactly,” Draven said. Elliot’s soft voice swam to his ears through the darkness that was his mind. “I am or I was the vice president.

  The hand gripped his shaft and the blood swelled to the head of his cock.

  Draven opened his eyes. He removed Elliot’s hand from his cock and pulled up his pants. Elliot brought his hands back to the wheel and keep his eyes forward.

  “Can we go on a date sometime?” Draven asked. “I want to get to know you.”

  “So, how does this work?” asked the lady.

  Draven stifled a groan and walked around the counter to show her how to use the machine. The woman had been bothering him all day. She complained about the prices and complained about the size of the containers. Earlier, Mr. Mackey came into the store and began telling Draven his life story. And every time Draven looked at his watch, hinting that maybe Mr. Mackay should be elsewhere, he just mirrored Draven by looking at his own watch, and then mentioning that he needed to get going.

  Draven wasn’t used to being in a situation where he had to listen to another person speak. Even his fellow inmates in prison got the memo and left him alone. It wasn’t easy being a store clerk, and a candy store clerk had to be a new level of torture.