Switch & Burn (Royal Bastards MC : Idaho Springs Chapter)

by Bink Cummings

  A groan forces its way out of Switch. An eye pops open. Andre’s smile widens in menacing glee. Switch’s second eye pries open and blinks; once, twice, three times in slow motion.

  Dropping his head to the side, he spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Then he smiles, too, touching the brand on his side once again. Shallow laughter bubbles out of his throat, crimson painted across his teeth.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ die!” I yell loud enough so he can hear me over the eager crowd. Less worried than before, I release the cage. Raff lets me go to stand beside me.

  “Have faith.” He bumps his shoulder into mine as I wipe blood onto the front of my jeans. Little pinpricks from unpolished steel continue to ooze, but I’m far too engaged in the fight to give a damn.

  Andre kicks the bottom of Switch’s foot, urging him to make the game more fun. He shifts to kick Switch’s other, and that’s when I see it. RW on Andre’s hip. Suddenly, everything falls into place— The look. The touches. Losing focus.

  Climbing to his feet, unsteady at first, Switch uses the cage for stability. Dark purple mottles his ribcage. Andre lifts his chin in respect as some douchebag in the stadium shouts, “Finish him!”

  I grit my teeth, ready to inflict pain on any bastard not rooting for my man. He won’t die today. They will get their deathmatch. This will end with a fat paycheck. One I plan to use in our bedroom to buy us a better bed. A bed of his choice. Not one I’ve touched anyone else on. The twin he was using is gone. We had it removed the day after the blow job.

  Rolling the kinks from his shoulders, Switch approaches Andre, and the man lets him. Within inches of each other, the kid stops, bows his head and closes his eyes. Again, Andre affords him this courtesy.

  Everyone waits with bated breath as seconds tick by. Nobody has seen anything like this before. Blood drips down Switch’s chest from his busted face. Hair hangs wet onto his forehead. Andre widens his stance, arms crossing over his pecs, the picture of fearless patience.

  An icy gust chills my arms as Switch slowly raises his head and opens those lids. The world stops. Inside his skull, looking upon Andre is no longer the eyes of the man I call mine, but the demon itself. It smiles at its opponent, head cocking to the side like a curious reptile. It sniffs the air audibly and licks the remnants of blood from its lips.

  Andre winks, far cockier than he should be.

  Raff hisses beside me in awe as Nose joins us with a busty club whore in tow. “He’s not in there anymore, is he?” the former supremacist asks.

  “Nope.” I smile smug as fuck, before I relax knowing what’s about to unfold. Tank warned me this might be a terrible idea. That we may have issues bringing Switch back from the other side if he shuts off his humanity. Even refused to watch tonight’s fight because of it. Looks like I owe Tank a hundred bucks. He was right.

  A faint growl seeps into the atmosphere an instant before the demon strikes. Fists fly at lightning speed: stomach, side, chest, face, stomach, face, face, face. Andre doesn’t get an opportunity to block. Dodging and weaving, Switch lands well-placed punches. His opponent kicks blindly and contacts the kid’s calf. He stumbles, but doesn’t fall.

  In a blur, Andre collapses to his knees and Switch dislocates his arm. It hangs oddly at his side. Blood sprays across the mat as raw violence ensues. The bigger man defends the best he can with one arm as he fights to get to his feet. Stumbling to a corner, Andre slams his shoulder into the cage, trying to knock it back into place, agony written across his face.

  Unable to control his hunger, Switch attacks with no remorse. Andre puts up a valiant effort, but a flawless roundhouse kick to the side of his skull flips him onto his side, taking him out for the count. Coated in a thin layer of sweat, Switch crouches over the man’s unconscious form and wraps both hands around his throat. Ravenous for the kill, the crowd goes wild, chanting Switch’s name as he ends the guy’s life in front of us all. Proud beyond words, my chest puffs, yet I remain silent as I wait for the moment I must step into the ring and tame the vicious demon before it hurts anyone else.

  Poised over the body of his victim, the demon looks up. Our eyes meet, a current passing between us before he blinks it away. A single word forms on his lips I can’t read. Then he does something I’ve never seen before. Switch slides back onto his haunches, grabs Andre’s lifeless ankle, stands, and drags the body across the ring. He unlatches the gate and down the steps they descend. The man’s head bouncing off the wood, leaving a streak of blood as Switch carts his win to the locker room. Those in his path shrink away in fear of what he might do. I turn to Raff, knowing shit’s about to hit the fan. This isn’t protocol. The body is left in the ring to be handled by the family. This level of disrespect won’t be tolerated.

  “I’m gonna get that man from Switch,” I gesture toward the hall.

  Smiling when he shouldn’t, Raff claps me on my good shoulder. “You do that. I’ll talk to his crew and meet you when we’ve got shit sorted.”

  Not bothering with words, I slap Raff in the arm knowing he’ll do as promised and race to get to Switch before anyone else does. God help them if they find him in a bad mood. One dead man is enough. We don’t need a second.

  The ruddy footpath of Andre’s blood leads me into the locker room, where I find a naked Switch pacing beside the bay of open showers, hands threaded behind his head.

  “Babe?”

  He spins on me, eyes frantic as his kill leans upright against the tiles, the water washing red violence from his form.

  Switch points to his mark then to Andre’s.

  The vulnerability of his movements break my damn heart.

  “I know. I saw. Are you okay?” I speak softly, ready to bear whatever he needs me to.

  Swallowing hard, my man shakes his head. His bottom lip trembles as the remains of adrenalin clear his system. Guess the demon didn’t need coaxed back into its cage this time. Tank taught him better than I thought.

  Needing to get my hands on him, to feel he’s alive, I draw closer. “Can I touch you?”

  Another shake.

  Fine. I get it.

  Palms up, so he knows I’m not a threat, I give him space to unwind.

  Switch looks to me and back to Andre again. He’s gonna need stitches on his face. Those ribs are also gonna take a while to heal.

  Fuck. He’s gorgeous. Even bruised and covered in blood.

  My stupid cock twitches.

  I drop both hands to my sides and ball them into fists to keep them to myself. A kiss is all I need. His warmth on mine. Something. The damn kid scared the life outta me tonight. I thought he might die. Now he’s losing it all over again in front of my eyes. What if this haunts him? What if he never forgives himself? I know he’s never taken a life before. Was it too much?

  “Switch?” Worried what might happen if I look away, I glue my attention on the only person who matters in this world.

  The door at my back opens with a screech. “It’s just us,” Raff calls before I hear the lock flip.

  “And?” I continue to watch my man pace in quick, keyed up bursts. His bare feet slap the concrete floor.

  “Got three of the brothers handlin’ the situation. It’s gonna be fine,” Raff states as if this isn’t a shitshow.

  Nose clears his throat. “Um, brothers… Why is the dead fucker movin’?”

  What?

  All four of us turn to the showers as Andre expels a groan, face scrunched in misery.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Confused as to what I’m seeing and why I’m seeing it, I address the kid. “Switch?”

  More of that soft, I wanna crawl inside him and live vulnerability vibrates from every orifice of Switch’s scarred up, busted up, attractive as hell form. Those green orbs glow in the locker room’s dimness as stale piss, sweat, and the tang of pennies hangs heavy in the steam-filled air. “Burn… I…” He stammers and chews on his wrecked bottom lip, reading my reaction to the news.

  Raff gasps at the sound of the kid’
s voice. “You fuckin’ spoke. He talks now?”

  We don’t have time for this. I hold a hand up. “Shut it. Only to me. And not much. Why don’t you two check out the not dead man, while I talk with Switch. Yeah?” To further this along, I shoo them away.

  Doing as they’re told, Nose and Raff shut off the water and kneel beside Andre as I walk past Switch and through the rear hall to get more privacy. Where I can speak freely. Switch tags along as I stop beside the row of old-school sinks and mirrors.

  “You couldn’t kill him.” A statement, not a question.

  Switch runs a hand through his ginger hair, head hanging low, afraid to look at me. “No.”

  “Why?”

  He touches his mark.

  “’Cause he was like you?” If the rich dicks know their man’s alive, they will want their money back. Or worse, a rematch. In his state, Switch needs time to heal. Hell, they may want restitution for the botched fight. Dammit.

  “They’re here,” he whispers.

  “Who’s here?”

  Again, he caresses RW. “Them.”

  “Them. You mean the assholes who did this to you?”

  A nod.

  “You’re sure?”

  Looking up, he delivers a firm, concise nod.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Rage unlike I’ve ever felt before floods my veins in white-hot venom.

  They. Are. Here.

  Them.

  A snarl starts low in my throat.

  Not asking any more questions, ‘cause I trust Switch more than anyone else on the planet, I yank my phone from my back pocket and dial Beast; knowing he’ll do what I need, the way I need it done. Time’s a-wastin’.

  He answers on a grunt.

  “Suits from deathmatch. Bring ‘em to the barn. Get ‘em drunk.” I hang up before he confirms my instructions. There’s no need.

  If Switch says they’re here, they’re here. Those motherfuckers walked into our castle, thinking they’d collect a fat purse. Joke’s on them. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll let them leave. It’s time for someone to pay for their sins. But first, we’ve got a non-dead fighter to handle…Ya know… In a minute. Maybe two.

  After…

  I advance on what’s mine.

  Giving zero fucks, I seize the nape of Switch’s neck and slam my lips to his. He cries out in pain and pleasure, yet I can’t seem to care. I crowd him against the nearest wall and touch him to get my fill. Removing my cut, mouth still on his, I toss it over a nearby sink. Off goes my shirt next. Dark skin meets light. It’s addictive. Goddamn perfection.

  A thick cock rages against me as mine fights to be unleashed.

  Switch moans as I penetrate his mouth with my tongue. Between us, I give in and free my dick.

  Someone clears their throat.

  I ignore the cockblocking bastard and grab Switch’s ass as I shimmy my jeans down to my knees for better access.

  A second person snickers.

  Frustrated by the intrusion, I growl into our kiss.

  “Can’t this wait?” Raff laughs.

  No.

  It can’t.

  A burst of Switch’s pre-cum smears across my stomach as I press forward, fitting my dick beneath his balls, ready to fuck the juncture of his thighs, close to his hole. Not enough to classify as ass play or any need for me to touch his shaft. But there’s pleasure, immense pleasure, where I can come on his hole. To claim it without penetration. To fulfill my newest unholy and non straight fantasies I refuse to admit to anyone, including myself.

  Still not leaving us to our own devices, someone whistles, impressed.

  Assholes.

  Hating our voyeuristic audience, the kid grabs my hip and tries to push me away. Not gonna happen. I don’t budge and wrap a hand around his throat instead. Applying pressure there, I sweep my lips across his. “We’re not stoppin’. You’re gonna come first.”

  Switch groans, brimming with lust.

  Now they know. This clarifies our relationship. No need to quit on their account. They can run off and do whatever they gotta do. I almost lost this man tonight. The longer I can taste him, the better. The more I can feel him, the better. I’m not stopping till I’m ready. Not for anyone.

  The image of Switch on his knees being whipped by suited sick fucks rips into the forefront of my mind. Never again. He’s mine. I slam my dick against his taint to prove as much. Switch’s tongue falters against my own as a shudder rocks his frame.

  That’s it, baby. That’s it.

  My phone erupts with a call.

  I kiss my man harder, swallowing his sex-crazed moans.

  A different ringtone sings loud and clear.

  Nose answers the call.

  Starved for more, I hook Switch’s leg over my unburned hip and break our kiss. He rests his head against the wall, gulping for air as I grip the base of my shaft and slap his taint and balls with my dick. Over and over, I get them nice and wet with pre-cum. The more abuse they take, the redder they become. Dying for attention, his poor neglected cock bobs between us. Yet I ignore the organ and let loose on the flesh below.

  Suddenly, Switch stiffens and his lips round into the sexiest ‘O’. I pause to watch him bask in the pleasure. His nostrils flare and I deliver a second cock slap. He grabs my burned arm, eyes widening as a wave of unexpected ecstasy crashes through him.

  “More,” he pleads.

  I oblige without question.

  Switch tilts his hips further. I slide in deeper. Another strike lands where it shouldn’t and his back arches. “Please.”

  Goddamn.

  I touch the hidden treasure again.

  Switch’s dick jerks, pre-cum leaking from it like a sieve.

  A person clears their throat again, gruffer than before. “Uh… Burn, we’ve got business. They’re in the barn.” Raff.

  Good.

  I’ll be done when I’m done. When I’ve seen him come. When I’ve felt the creamy jets splash my skin; until then, the club can wait.

  “Fuck,’ Nose hisses, sounding far from upset. A wet sucking noise erupts behind me, and Switch’s eyes widen as he watches whatever it is unfold. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

  “That’s it,” Raff moans.

  I lick Switch’s chin to make him focus on us. Not them. “You okay with this?”

  Mouth agape, he nods dumbly, and I chuckle at how cute he is. It’s not like I didn’t know about my brothers’ exploits. Sex is sex to them. They do what they want. We don’t discuss the details.

  I thrust against Switch’s secret hole to cement my claim.

  Eyes roll into the back of his skull and I bask in his reaction. It’s what wet dreams are made of.

  “You want more, babe?”

  Switch emits the sexiest nonverbal plea.

  I smirk, loving this entire fucking thing more than I should at a time like this. “Say it.”

  An identical noise trails.

  “Babe,” I admonish, doing my best not to laugh. One touch, maybe two, and he’s putty--has been since our first dick-on-dick session in the bedroom. He submits beautifully as always, with complete trust. It’s as if Switch’s brain shuts down and needs me to lead. Oh, and I do. I lead us to orgasms. Lots of fucking orgasms… in our bed, in our shower, on the couch when I’m hard and he’s reading, at our table over dinner. Except this is different. Tonight, he beat a man half to death. No, the demon did. It decimated its victim, while somehow staying true to Switch by not killing the guy. Tank will be proud. I sure as hell am.

  Now the redhead’s busted up and moaning in a grimy locker room, all because of my cock. My. Cock. Not someone else’s. If that didn’t make me feel enough like a king, I’m allowed to do whatever it is I want to him in front of my brothers.

  Spinning Switch around, he places his palms on the wall as I secure his hips and thrust my dick between those gorgeous, pale globes. Not to penetrate him, I’d never do that without talking it through first. N
ot after what he’s survived. I care too much to do that. Instead, I do one better, and massage his hole with my cockhead, smearing it in natural lube. He pushes back, wanting me to impale him… gagging for it.

  “Do it,” Nose rasps. “Fuck him… Fuuuck…” Over my shoulder, I sneak a peek of Raff on his knees, blowing his best friend as he fingers himself in sharp jabs. It shouldn’t be hot to see two men going at it. Yet, it’s somehow liberating. Less taboo. Less… wrong.

  Not wasting any more time, when I’ve got club shit to handle, I move to pleasure Switch far beyond what I’ve allowed before. Kicking his feet apart, I level our heights perfectly to fuck his cheeks. He braces against the wall as I fit myself there, against his rim. It flutters open, eager to be filled. I do what I know I shouldn’t and sample the smallest taste. Parting him to get an unrestricted view, I kiss the center over and over in the tiniest jabs. A thin web of pre-cum draws between the rosy treasure and my tip.

  Switch shakes, goosebumps flaring over every inch of his skin.

  Transfixed on what’s mine, I dive in for more as he pushes out. In, the dark head of my cock disappears into heated bliss, but I stop it from going further and rest there. Before he can complain, I reach around to stroke my man’s cock. Another first for us. He’s silk over steel as I jack him in time with mini thrusts. In and out, I screw his rim, never penetrating far as I gorge on every nuance the moment offers… him, the intense pleasure, the moans of my brothers, and possession, the all-consuming thrill it evokes.

  I kiss his spine and drag my lips there, lick it, inhale its scent.

  He whimpers to come.

  I stroke Switch faster.

  Losing all inhibitions, the center of my world drives his powerful hips backward and forces me balls deep into his body. I come. It happens out of nowhere. Spasms seize my muscles, and eyes slam shut as I grit my teeth through the brutal explosion. It’s electric— The throb of my cock. The blinding pleasure. I hold onto him like a buoy in a storm as I do what I know I shouldn’t and draw back only to impale Switch again. The urge to crawl inside him so profound it’s goddamn biblical.

  Wetness fills my fist and I come to long enough to hold Switch through his climax.