Page 5 of Broken Highway (Cult Boys #1)

He’s got spunk. Got a very noticeable habit of running his mouth. I kind of adore it. Kind of want to shut him up with my dick. Kind of want to spray cum all over his lips. Kind of want what I always want, to come and run.

“Are you always this ungrateful to people who are doing you a solid?”

“No, I usually thank them in other ways.”

It’s a pointed statement. One I can’t quite ignore. “Is that what you’re doing out here in the middle of the night?” My dick twitches, miles ahead of my mind. Thinking he is just what the doctor ordered. “There are much easier ways to cruise.”

“Maybe I like a challenge.” He palms a fist over the knob of the shifter. “Or maybe my car broke down a while back and I’ve been walking all night, hoping to stumble upon a kind stranger such as yourself to pick me up.”

I knock his hand away from the shifter. This car is the last thing I have in this world and if he accidentally destroys my transmission, he’s going to wish I ran him over. “So you need me to take you to a shop or something? Bad news, but I doubt a single shop in the world is open this late.”

“That car is good as gone. It’s almost as old as this one, but nowhere near as nice. That thing is dead-dead-dead and it ain’t coming back to life. I just need to go—” He points ahead. “That way.”

“You’re just going to leave your car on the side of the road? That has to be some sort of crime.”

“Misdemeanor at most. I pulled it all the way off the side of the road to make sure nobody could accidentally pull a you and crash into it…” He continues talking, but all I can make out are mumbles as a fire steals my attention.

On the side of the road, a car that’s been burnt to a crisp. Only a gentle smolder remains. The light of the fire paints half his face in an orange glow as I slow down to a crawl. The other half of his face is hidden in shadows.

He stops talking and cocks his head to the right. Now, it’s the other half of his face hidden in shadow. He swallows nervously, and I have no doubt he’s the arsonist.

“So tell me, did you light your car on fire before you decided to hitch?”

“I pulled it all the way off the side of the road, doused it in gas, and then lit it on fire.”

“We’re getting into felony territory.”

“Which is why it’s important that we keep on driving—” He points ahead again. “That way.”

“That way we’ll go.” I turn on the radio, only to be shouted at by a preacher.

The sermon, told in shouts and cries of war, speaks of Noah and the flood, and that it’s coming again.

This time, nobody will be saved. The righteous and the wicked will drown together.

It’d be terrifying, if I were to believe in that shit.

He juts forward and punches the power button, turning the radio off. “That’s enough of that.”

Back to silence again.

The silence normally comforts me, but not right now. “Why did you tell me the truth? You could have said that wasn’t your car. You could have said it caught fire as you were driving. You could have told a million lies, and yet you told the truth.”

He shrugs. “Lying is a short-term solution. It always comes back to bite you in the ass when you need your ass to remain unbitten the most.”

This world is filled with cheats and liars. Though I haven’t ruled out him being a charming sociopath, I can bank on the fact that at least he’s honest. In his shoes, I would have lied through my pretty teeth.

I just nod.

He cracks a smile and shakes his head.

“Something amusing?” I ask.

“I knew someone that was murdered hitchhiking.”

“Doesn’t sound like a funny story to me.”

“Said I knew her.” He narrows his eyes on me. “Didn’t say I liked her.”

“That little horror story of yours wasn’t enough to deter you from getting in a stranger’s car?”

“I must’ve walked for miles before you came along.

Figured the fire would have long been out by now.

A few cars sped down enough to tease me but then sped away into the night.

I think they saw I was a man and figured it wasn’t worth the risk.

Anyway, by the time you showed up, it was worth the risk because even if you’re a killer, at least you’re a hot one. ”

I stare him down, shocked he’d be so forward. “Out here in the middle of nowhere, in the car of a complete stranger, you feel safe enough to tell me, another man, that you think I’m hot?”

“I know what you’re after.” He leans over the center console. “I know why you don’t care I set fire to my car and left it on the side of the road.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

He reaches over the space between us and palms a hand over my crotch. Applies enough pressure to get the blood flowing. “I’m perceptive of my surroundings.”

I’m either the luckiest man in the world or the most cursed. I drop a hand to his wrist. “I don’t pay for sex.”

He maneuvers his hand upward and slips inside my jeans. Curls a soft hand and fingers around my hardness. “You’ve already paid me with a ride.”

I shift in my seat, torn between letting him do what he’s going to do and making him work for it. Making him earn it. “I thought you didn’t want to be an accessory.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He retreats back with a shrug. “We can just sit here in silence.”

I’ve never met someone who can match my orneriness, or horniness for that matter.

But he meets me nose-to-nose. Throwing back at me what I spit out.

It drives me up a wall, or at least a leather seat.

I make quick work undoing my jeans and pushing them down to my thighs.

My cock springs free, aching for human touch.

“Boy, you better get that pretty mouth on my fucking dick right now before I throw you back onto that asphalt.”

“Talk dirty to me.”

“I just fucking did.” I grab him by the back of the head and guide him to my cock. Not that he needs the guidance. He takes hold of the shaft in one hand while his tongue swirls over my head, licking and lapping at the slit.

I try to keep my eyes on the road. Try to avoid another incident, but can’t help but to glance down occasionally to watch as his head begins to bob.

He swallows me to the hilt, teasing of what’s to come before he pulls back and strokes me with one hand.

The length of my shaft is slick from his mouth, slick enough that he glides over me with ease.

He watches me. Fuck, he’s always fucking watching me. Watches as each stroke forces hushed gasps from my throat. Watches as my legs bow outward each time he passes his thumb over the head of my cock.

“Eyes on the road,” he commands, taking control.

And what I said about losing control? I fucking hate it. That’s why I’m always on top even when I’m playing bottom. And when men suck me off, they’re usually on their knees while I fuck their throat. Right now, I’m powerless. Not in control.

“Did you hear what I said,” he snarls. “I want to get that way safely.”

“Yes,” I manage to mumble out with a nod.

“Good Daddy.”

The fuck?

He tongues his way down my shaft until he reaches my balls. Gives them a little tug with his mouth. Makes me not care that he just called me Daddy because holy sh?—

And then he’s back at my head, applying just enough pressure that I can feel myself racing toward release.

Can feel the orgasm swelling from within.

He moans around me, choking on his own pleasure.

The sounds of his mouth explode into a symphony of gargles and slurps, and then I’m the front man singing, “ oh shit, oh shit. Fuuuckkkk.”

I thrust upward, the head of my cock hammering the back of his throat.

No mercy. This boy’s a fucking pro. My mind instantly goes to places I’d rather it not go.

Think about how many dicks he’s sucked. Don’t want to think about that.

Want to think about something else. I shift my gaze to the right and pull his shirt up his back, Skin so soft, and a mound of a bubble butt peeking out from beneath his jeans.

I slip a hand underneath and palm his smooth, tight ass.

He raises his head, the night air hissing against my slick cock. “That’s my no-no square.”

And I relent because I know he’s not going to get back to work unless I abide. I move my hand from his ass to his head, tangling my fingers in his short hair as he swallows me whole again. Up and down, and I swear I can feel his heart pounding through his fucking throat.

“I’m gonna?—”

It’s too late.

My arms tense, one hand in his hair and one hand on the steering wheel. I throw the weight of my body forward, releasing my seed into the back of his throat. Shot after shot, and he swallows it all.

I’m still fighting to catch my breath when he comes back up, wiping wet lips clean with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

And the world goes black like it always does, and I’m left of the thoughts of what I’ve done. What I’m still going to do. It’s the only time I ever think of him. Right after I’ve come and my mind breaks all over again.

I’m on this highway to die.

To end it all.

It’s the little moments that keep me alive.

But just for a little bit at a time.