They spent an hour talking about the people around them and discussed the past week’s events from the club, from the all-male strip show on Saturday, to the twink who wanted to beat his own record of how many bears can leave a load in him in one evening. The events that included penetration were ticketed separately to the regular entrance fee. This made them even more secure and kept track of people in case something went tits up.
“We better go to get good seats for the show.” Finley stood up and shrugged into his bomber jacket. “Care to walk with me to the club? It’s a nice evening out.” Which in London meant it wasn’t raining.
“I’d love to, but I took a bike here. I’d rather park it overnight at the club than leave it here.”
“That’s cool. I’ll meet you there, then.” Hopefully, Finley hid his disappointment well, glancing away, then back at the empty glass Kage had been drinking from.
“Oh, that was pineapple juice. I don’t drink and drive.” Kage patted Finley’s shoulder. “Actually,” Kage bit his cheek, his gaze searching Finley’s face, “would you ride with me?”
“On the bike?” The rush of excitement that filled Finley was partially fuelled by the idea of a bike ride, but mostly by the vision of him plastered to Kage’s back, his crotch butted up against the man’s ass. “Sure, yeah.”
“One sec.” Kage approached the bar, and the bartender retrieved a helmet for him.
Right outside the pub, Kage straddled a sleek bike in matte black, giving Finley an excellent view of his pert ass. In his tight jeans and classic leather jacket, he looked like a modern-day Asian Marlon Brando.
Be still my beating heart.
“That’s a gorgeous ride, Kage. Looks so old-school, what is it?” Finley took a step back to admire the smooth line of its silhouette from the handlebars down to the tail and fender.
“Harley Davidson Iron 88. I got it from Belfast, but had the pillion seat and rear foot-pegs installed additionally from the dealership.” He straightened his back, the sexy curve of his ass matching the beauty of the bike. “It rides solid. Are you a bike guy?”
“I have a licence, but I haven’t straddled one for years,” Finley said, his pulse spiking at the thought of riding with Kage.
“Come on.” He patted the extended seat behind him and held the helmet out to Finley.
“I can’t take your helmet.”
“It’s a short ride and I’d rather you wear it.” Kage pushed it at Finley’s midsection until he took it off his hands.
“Why did you ride the bike here then?”
“I took her for a spin to visit a friend. Kind of.” Kage’s expression fell as he looked into the distance. “I always loved riding, but after the car accident, I just couldn’t—” He shook his head. “Not important. Hop on and hold me tight. You know how to work your body with me if you’ve ridden before.” The words in Kage’s voice sounded dirtier than intended.
Yes, Sir.
Finley put the helmet on, and his senses filled with the scent of Kage’s shampoo. The giddy rush went straight to his cock as he remembered the moment Kage had leaned into him during their scene together.
Don’t get hard now, he’ll know.
He straddled the bike, his groin fitting snugly into Kage’s ass, his hands around the man’s slim waist. A moan threatened to escape him at the feel of Kage’s warm body. It only got better when the sexy purr of the gorgeous machine filled the air as the machine vibrated under them.
Chapter Twelve
Finley
Finley’s heart raced as they joined the evening traffic, and for the first time in two years, he imagined his life beyond the day-by-day survival. A trip on a bike with Kage, a lazy Saturday in front of the telly wrapped under one blanket, slow kisses and intense sex. Could it be his life one day? Would Kage even want that?
Guilt churned in Finley’s gut at the happy thoughts when memories of what had happened on this date two years ago were fresh in his mind. The first of October marked the horrible day he’d lost contact with Max, only to find out hours later that he would never hear from his son again. Amidst the cacophony of people and events in Finley’s life, he hadn’t noticed when thegloomy thoughts of joining his son had crumbled to dust. He was mourning but he was also alive.
All too soon they reached the club’s back entrance. Kage pulled the bike up in the gated staff car park and switched off the engine. Finley’s hands were still around Kage’s waist, and he felt Kage’s own hands slide over to cover them. The touch of Kage’s leather gloves over his cold hands sent a shiver through Finley. How would they feel on his cock? He imagined Kage’s long, gloved fingers sliding deep into his ass. Fuck, the ride and the closeness made him horny, and he wished Kage would bend him over the bike now and have his way with him.
Kage’s rules aside, they shouldn’t be late for the show. He stood up and Kage followed, wincing as he put a hand on his hip.
“You alright?” Finley asked.
“Yes, my head suffered no injuries. But my hair is another matter.” Kage smirked and accepted the helmet from Finley. “I’ll meet you at the entrance to the theatre.”
They went their separate ways to change into their clubwear, and soon, Finley had his chest harness on and leathers tucked into boots. He’d grown to love the clothes so much, he felt naked without the harness. He’d also been looking into getting a leather vest and a jockstrap like the one Kage had made him wear for their scene.
