His Stepdad Wears Leather

by Kelex

  “My cousins are coming to pick me up in a few minutes,” he replied, his smile growing a little wider. “If you asked them nicely… and were good to us… I think we could be persuaded.”

  Noah took a step back. Alarm bells went off in his brain. The hell if he was getting into some stranger’s car to disappear into the night. He wouldn’t become another statistic, especially now that he’d finally found freedom. “Maybe next time.”

  The guy pushed Noah against the outside of the market. He leaned in closer, his smile threatening. “You sure?”

  Noah swallowed. “Absolutely sure.”

  “That’s too bad,” the guy said, pouting a little.

  A car pulled up to the tienda, loud music blaring—and stole the guy’s attention. Noah was able to duck through the narrow space between the exterior and the man. “I’ve got to go. Thanks!”

  Shaken, he quickened his steps. With one glance over his shoulder, he saw the man wasn’t giving chase.

  Thank god.

  His stepmother’s too-sweet voice whispered in his mind. Now be a good little boy and get on your knees to pray to Him for this blessing.

  Noah kept on walking, wondering when her voice would stop tormenting him.

  Never, Noah. I will be with you always and forever.

  He could see her in his mind’s eye. Viciously chopping ne’er-do-well vegetables on the thick wooden slab on the counter of her kitchen plastered with floor-to-ceiling chickens. The animal adorned the walls, the pictures, her aprons, the dishtowels, the plates, the cookie jars—everything in her kitchen was covered with chickens.

  While plundering the open refrigerator one of the rare days she hadn’t been home after school, his best friend, Stan, had said, “You said your stepmother was super religious, but you’re obviously wrong. She’s obsessed with cocks.”

  Noah chuckled at the memory of chocolate milk spurting from his lips and nose… he’d barely been able to keep his composure in the kitchen from that point forward. Even years later, he’d spontaneously burst into laughter at the memory. Which had cost him a few punishments, but it had been worth it in his book. As the laughter faded he immediately grew depressed over the fact he might never see his best friend again. Stan was the one thing he’d miss about home. The only thing. He wished he hadn’t ditched his phone. In that moment, Noah needed to hear a friendly voice.

  He checked behind him once more and didn’t see anyone following. With a relieved sigh, he forged ahead, focusing on the glimpses of the small town. His gaze roamed over everything as he followed the sidewalk, trying to pick out anything that seemed familiar. The houses were small, and many appeared empty. He’d supposedly once lived there—many years before. Noah didn’t remember much from his existence then. Memories of his mother were fuzzy—he remembered the sweet scent of flowers—and books. She’d had tons of books. There had been another lady, too. He couldn’t remember her name or who she was, but he did remember a weird laugh, bear hugs, and playing with a doctor set with her once.

  Above all, what he truly remembered was feeling safe.

  Loved.

  Happy.

  Maybe it wasn’t true.

  Maybe he’d imagined it all…

  But he had to find out, one way or another. Anything had to be better than home where he felt none of those things.

  Right?

  She abandoned you… she never once tried to see you… she won’t want you back. She’s moved on with her life… and has a new kid to replace you. Abbie Lee had once told him that in a fit of rage. Those words now whispered through his mind over and over, growing louder with every step.

  The fear mounted. His heart quickened… his chest tightening. Crossing the country on a multi-day bus-ride seemed like nothing now. The last fifteen miles were going to be hell. Hopefully he’d survive to the end. Forcing his maudlin thoughts aside, he pulled his jacket’s zipper higher against the cold. Noah threaded his duffel over both shoulders before shoving his bare hands into his pockets. Coming from the south, he hadn’t needed winter gear. Summer was almost upon Tennessee.

  Now in California, it seemed like winter was still going strong. Wasn’t it supposed to be balmy and warm there? He was going to freeze to death. Trudging on another couple of miles or so, he heard the muted sounds of music growing with every step. As he neared the source, he saw an old brick warehouse in the distance that had a throng of vehicles parked out front. The music grew louder the closer he moved—club music. His footsteps synced to the beat of one of his favorite songs, a smile growing on his face. When he saw the rainbow flag waving proudly over the front door, his smile grew.

  Fingering the fake ID in his pocket, he contemplated making a pitstop. That ID had gotten him into his current predicament—the catalyst that had forced him to run away. Stan had convinced him to check out an LGBT club in Nashville. An hour into their visit, he’d been caught by his step-uncle, the sheriff of the neighboring county. His parents had had him followed, it seemed. Once home, shit had hit the fan. Luckily, no one had found the ID, or it would’ve been confiscated.

  Ultimately, he’d needed it to buy the bus ticket—so he was glad they hadn’t.

  Noah stood there, contemplating another moment. Once the clock struck midnight, he was officially an adult.

  And that deserved a little celebrating, right?

  Yet, he had somewhere to be.

  Somewhere he dreaded.

  If he didn’t get it done and over with, he might never have the balls to go. Yet he had to go. To know why… why his mother had abandoned him. To know why he had those warm, fuzzy memories… only to lose them.

  Maybe not knowing is better.

  Just as he had himself convinced to keep walking past, someone opened the front door to the club. Light and a bass thump poured from the opening, chasing away some of the darkness, filling the silence of the night. Hand in hand, two leather-clad men drifted into the moonlight. Noah’s stare was drawn like a magnet, noting those joined hands.

  A smile came to his lips.

  Before the pair got far, one of the men pinned the other against the outer brick and stole a kiss. Noah’s heart sped a little as he played voyeur to their little intimate moment. The kiss became heated, their bodies writhing against one another… and a spark of yearning simmered low in his belly. His focus was on them… and not the car that had sidled up beside him.

  “Sure you don’t want that ride, sexy?”

  Noah jumped at the man’s voice. He spun his head and glimpsed the car. In the dark, he struggled to see… but an inside light flicked on. The man from the tienda hung outside the rear window—but he wasn’t alone. A carload of four big men ogled him, danger in their glares. His heartbeat quickened, a warning signal racing up his spine. There was no way he was going anywhere with them—no one would have any idea where he was, and he could end up another statistic. “No thanks,” he murmured and kept on walking.

  The car rolled on, slowly keeping up with his steps.

  “Oh, come on… there’s no reason for you to walk that far. We’ve got room,” one of the supposed ‘cousins’ said.

  “I’m about to meet a friend inside,” Noah said before jumping the narrow ditch separating the road and the parking lot.

  “We could be friends, too,” the guy from the bus said.

  Noah took a few more steps away, putting a little more distance between them. “Can’t leave him waiting… thanks for the offer, but I gotta pass.”

  The car stopped, and Greyhound guy got out. Without another thought, Noah ran across the parking lot, as quickly as he could. He approached the front door and scrambled inside. Heart slamming into his chest, he paused a moment to simply breathe. His body trembled as the fear claimed him—but the loud, pulsating music swallowing him might’ve been part of the reason for some of that tremble.

  “You alright, my man?”

  2

  Noah spun to see a huge, mountain of a man standing not far from him. He nodded, unable to speak quite
yet.

  The mountain gave him a scathing glower before he moved back to a podium a few feet away. Behind him, Noah saw a hint of the revelry inside. He smirked as he saw the dancefloor in the distance—his parents would have a coronary—particularly Abbie Lee.

  “You coming in—or you just gonna stare?”

  He turned his attention back to the mountain. The guy’s skin and clothes were dark, and he almost blended in with the dimmed interior. Noah glanced at the words SECURITY emblazoned on his polo shirt and immediately felt a little safer if that was what was protecting him from what was outside.

  Noah dug the fake ID from his pocket and glanced at it in the muted glow of the overhead lights. Tonight, he would be Christopher John Douglass and twenty-two. The guy in the picture sort of looked like him.

  If the mountain squinted.

  Noah handed the ID over and waited. Inside his mind, he could hear his parents’ proselytization. He drew in a shaky breath, forcing their words from his mind. Reaching for the heavy front door, he yanked it open.

  The towering, big barrel-chested guy seized it and flipped out a little flashlight to examine it.

  Shit. I’m done for.

  The bouncer lifted the flashlight to his face. “Christopher… when’s your birthday?”

  Technically in a couple of minutes. Noah prattled off the date on the ID, not his actual birthday. He’d memorized everything on that ID, ready to answer any question. While the bouncer scrutinized it, Noah gazed at the clock above the podium and saw it ticking down the minutes… 11:58…

  Almost time.

  The guy glanced at the ID again and then lifted his stare. “You do realize it’s leather night? You’re a little underdressed.”

  “I wasn’t aware.”

  “Apparently,” the bouncer said, pointing to a schedule chalked on the blackboard wall. Welcome to The Village. He read off the first few items. Men Only Monday. Trivia Tuesday. Hump Day Leather. Luau Thursday. Kink Friday. Sinful Saturday. Sunday - Private Party.

  Noah glanced down at his jeans and hoodie. He shrugged, lifting his focus back to the bouncer. “Leather isn’t really my jam.”

  The bouncer lifted a concerned brow. “Maybe you should come back on another night.”

  There was no way he was going back outside. Not for a while, anyway. He could almost see that carload of men waiting for him behind that door. Desperate, he searched for something to convince the bouncer to let him in. At the last second, Noah hooked a finger into his jeans and pulled out the side of his manties. “I prefer lace…” He smiled. “Goes pretty well with leather, right?”

  The giant flashed the light on the side of Noah’s red lace manties. After a moment, he handed back the ID. “Five-dollar cover.”

  Inwardly sighing with relief, Noah released the waistband. After fishing out his limited funds, he handed a five over and retrieved his fake ID. The bouncer stamped the back of his hand and he grinned.

  He was in.

  “You’ll have to store the bag in your car before I can let you in. And before you ask, no, we don’t have lockers for belongings.”

  Noah froze. “I just got in on the bus.”

  “Can’t let you in with that.”

  “I just got into town. I don’t have anywhere to store it,” he said, frantic. There was no turning back now, and he was afraid to go back outside. That bag held everything he’d brought with him when he ran away from home. Without it, he’d have nothing. “I got away from…” I can’t say my parents. “An abusive relationship.” That’s not a complete lie.

  The bouncer frowned. “And this is your first stop?”

  “I’m celebrating my newfound freedom,” Noah said with a grin. “Come on… I simply want one drink and a dance or two. I promise to be good.” His gaze moved to the clock again. He watched the second-hand tick to midnight.

  Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday toooo meeeee…

  The bouncer eyed him before shaking his head and sighing dramatically. “Give me your bag. I’ll store it up here until you leave.”

  A smile spread over Noah’s face. He shrugged the duffel off his shoulder before hesitating. “Dude, this is all I own right now. This and the clothes on my back.” He peeled off his light jacket and folded it up before storing it inside. With a final zip, he handed it over.

  The bouncer nodded. “I’ll keep it safe.” He glared at Noah. “For tonight. It won’t happen again, though. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Noah replied, cautiously handing his bag to the bouncer… and hoping his few worldly possessions remained when he returned for them.

  He stepped inside and scanned the interior. It seemed a little like the club he’d gone to in Nashville—dark with lots of flashing lights. Lots of bodies packed close, writhing to the music. The song changed to a slower one. Everyone on the dancefloor moved in closer and swayed to the languid tempo. Lights splashed on the walls, painting the gloom with colorful illumination. Lots of bare skin was on display, as well as leather. Harnesses, chaps, and leather everything abounded.

  I’m definitely underdressed. Or over.

  Around the edges of the dancefloor, there were booths and tables hidden in the darkness. He wondered what kind of fun the men there were having in the shadows. Narrowing his eyes, he could almost see a bit of movement… a kiss, perhaps. Maybe another kind of kiss. A grin came to his lips, and he wandered toward the right, where a long bar claimed one whole wall. Noah slid onto an empty barstool at the packed bar and glanced around for a bartender.

  There were a couple of guys working speedily behind the bar, but one in particular captured his attention. Noah took note of what had to be the hottest man he’d ever had the privilege to ogle. At least six feet of pure muscle stood behind the bar wearing leather pants, boots, harness, and nothing else. Those pants clung to his hips, showing off hard ridges of bone and muscle, along with a scattering of hair that trickled down to parts unknown.

  I’d like to explore those parts unknown.

  His short, cropped hair and neat beard were dark, with a few sprinkles of gray, possibly—an exact color was impossible in that light—and those same hairs dusted a finely chiseled chest. Tight abs were etched below. From his vantage point, Noah could see one nipple was pierced—the guy’s body was partially turned away, so he wasn’t sure about the other.

  Laughing at whoever he was talking to, the bartender’s face came to life. It only made him all the more handsome. Noah couldn’t help staring… and wishing he was the object of the man’s attention. Maybe I can inspire that attention? Butterflies went off in his stomach at the thought of flirting—but he’d run away so he could live a little.

  It was time to start doing that. Live.

  So what if he crashed and burned. It was his damned birthday. Maybe if there really was a god, he’d help Noah out. Perhaps the bartender sensed his regard… or maybe it was a little divine intervention. The guy tilted his head and their stares locked. Noah’s insides twisted into a knot… lust pumping through his veins.

  My god… he’s gorgeous…

  Abbie Lee’s voice whispered in his mind. Be a good boy. Get down on your knees and pray for this blessing.

  Oh, I’ll get on my knees, all right, he thought with an inward chuckle.

  He tilted his chin a little and attempted a seductive gaze, though he was fairly sure there was equal chance that he appeared decidedly not seductive.

  You probably look constipated, his inner voice whispered.

  Shut it. Do not fuck this up for me…

  The man narrowed his eyes a little, as if he was considering Noah’s ill-attempt.

  That’s right. Come on over… daddy…

  A shiver rippled down Noah’s spine at the word. That shiver stopped at his hardening dick.

  A little tilt came to the man’s lips before he turned back to whoever he was talking to. Noah let out a sigh of disappointment, but only a second later dragged in a strangled breath when the bartender ambled his way. He
stopped directly, on the other side of the bar, and offered Noah a slow smile.

  “What can I get you?” the sexy bartender asked, yelling a little over the music.

  Oh fuck. What do I order? Beer is meh. I need to seem mature. Worldly. “Whiskey. Neat,” he yelled back. Noah wasn’t exactly sure what ‘neat’ meant, but he’d heard it in a movie, so hopefully it would make him sound experienced. He’d learned from the last time he’d snuck into a bar that he most definitely didn’t like beer.

  “Top—”

  “No,” Noah interrupted with a grin. “I’m a bottom.”

  The last part, of course, came out just as the song ended and seconds before another slow song began. Some of the guys at the bar next to him turned to gawk, amused smirks on their faces.

  Jesus, swallow me whole.

  His inner voice chuckled. Someone’s gonna be swallowing, that’s for sure.

  The gorgeous bartender chuckled. “Top shelf or do you want a well drink?”

  Noah’s face flamed. He had no idea what any of that meant. “Top shelf, of course.”

  “Of course.” The handsome bartender’s stare washed over his face before he grinned, a grin that caused the nerve endings at the back of Noah’s neck to prickle.

  Noah let out a relieved sigh when the guy spun to prepare his drink. Not only did it give him a moment to breathe, but he was free to peruse all he wanted without the bartender’s notice.

  Now that’s an ass.

  His peek didn’t last long enough. The bartender spun, bottle in hand, and poured the whiskey into a glass with ice—before straining it out and pouring the liquor into another glass.

  “There you go,” the bartender said. “Would you like to pay now or start a tab?”

  Noah didn’t have enough money to run up a tab. Nor did he have the tolerance for one, either. He’d once stolen some liquor from his father’s cabinet, and his stomach and head had quickly revolted later that night. “I’m only having one. What do I owe you?”

  “Twelve.”

  Dollars? Noah glared at the glass and frowned. “This stuff made of gold?”