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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gray

Holden waited out front as we collected our belongings from Deputy Harvey, finally free to go after a miserable night lying on a hard bench and wanting to kick my own ass for fucking up so badly.

I shouldn’t have let Dallas push my buttons so easily that we ended up in a fucking brawl.

Not that I was sorry Emory socked that asshole in the jaw. I wished I had gotten the chance to do it myself, but it was good to see Emory stand up for himself. Hopefully, that bruise would make Dallas think twice before bothering him again.

Still, I regretted that my temper had dragged Emory and my brothers into such a mess.

“There were easier ways to get in my pants,” Axel said as he took his plastic baggie, fingers sliding along Harvey’s teasingly.

The deputy glowered.

“Don’t poke the bear,” I muttered. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

“Me too,” Bailey said.

“Let’s go, then,” Holden said, heading for the door.

Axel gave Harvey a playful little wave, then jogged to catch up with us as we trailed out into the parking lot. The sun was already bright in the sky, washing out the light-gray concrete beneath our feet.

“You all really outdid yourselves this time,” Holden said as we approached his GTO. “Nice job. Just when I was starting to get people in this town to believe we weren’t trouble.”

“What crawled up your ass?” Axel said.

Holden whirled, eyes furious. “Do you not think about anyone but yourself? I’ve been working my ass off for months to rebuild our reputation after the old man ran it into the ground. Right now, I should be at a brunch with some of the most influential business people in this town, and instead, I’m picking up my brothers from jail after a brawl .”

“Whoa, I know I fucked up, but it’s not that bad, is it?” I said. “It’s not like bikers will care about something like that when looking for repairs. Hell, they might respect us more.”

Holden glared. “Right, because that biker business is just pouring in.”

“It takes time to build?—”

“And meanwhile, we’ve got this loan to cover so we don’t lose our fucking house,” Holden snapped. “Not to mention, our reputation may not matter to those bikers, but it sure as hell matters if we ever want to win any of the local business grants from the Chamber of Commerce or get Bailey one of the local scholarships to Riverton Community College.”

“I don’t need to go to school,” Bailey protested.

Holden turned a hard look on him. “You’re going to school next year, even if I have to fucking burn down the auto shop to get insurance money.”

“Maybe save your fraud planning for when we’re not in front of the sheriff’s department,” Axel drawled. “Not ready to go back in the slammer just yet.”

“Everything’s a joke with you…”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. While Holden and Axel argued, I checked the text that popped in.

Emory:

Where are you?

Gray:

Standing in front of the jail

Emory:

Good. Don’t leave. Be there in two mins.

I pocketed my phone just as Holden whirled back toward me. “I expected better from you, Gray. I trusted you to keep them out of trouble. Especially Bailey.”

“I fucked up, okay? I already know that!”

“Yeah, you fucking did,” he growled. “I got you back here to help me with the business, not give me more messes to clean up.”

I flinched, his words cutting deep. He hadn’t brought me back because he missed me or wanted me to be part of the family but to help him with the business? I knew he needed my help, that he wanted to expand it to bike repairs, but I thought it was just an excuse to ask me to come home—not the only fucking reason for me to be there.

“Wow,” I said. “If that’s how you really feel, maybe you’d be better off without me.”

“Come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”

A maroon sedan pulled up alongside us, interrupting our conversation. Given the way things were going, that was probably a good thing.

It wasn’t Emory’s car, but when the window lowered, he was in the driver’s seat. “Need a ride?”

“Your timing is perfect,” I said, rounding the car to open the passenger door.

“Wait, Gray,” Holden called over the roof of the car. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere else.”

“But—”

I slid into the car and closed the door on his words. Emory turned to me, his eyes red-rimmed. Apparently, we’d both had a hell of a homecoming.

“How are you doing, golden boy?”

“Not great. You?”

“Same.” I brushed my thumb over his cheek. “Better now.”

Emory leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled back. “Someone might see?—”

“Let them see,” he said.

His lips crashed into mine in a fiery kiss. I met him just as fiercely, my emotions running high. We kissed long and hard, panting for breath as we broke.

Emory pressed his forehead to mine, whispering between us, “I needed that.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He pulled away and shifted the car into drive. “How do you feel about seeing my place?”

“Sounds great.”

Emory’s apartment was only a five-minute drive from the jail. He lived in a cute little row of brick town houses a few blocks from downtown. He pulled into the driveway spot allotted for Town House 3, then led me to a navy blue door.

“Whose car is this?”

He pulled out his keys. “It’s my mom’s. My car is still out at the auto shop.”

“Right.” I winced. “My bike is over at the bar, unless the owner called Holden.”

One more mess for him to clean up. Maybe he had good reason to be pissed.

Emory unlocked the door, and I followed him inside, my gaze immediately drawn to the art on the walls. There were different styles: landscapes, still portraits, and bright, playful designs that reminded me of pop art.

They weren’t all works by Emory, but it was easy to pick out the ones that were. There was a boldness to the strokes and colors that reminded me of the sketches I’d seen. No wonder my tattoos had fascinated him—there was a similarity to his natural style that must call to him.

“Emory, fuck. How are you not a professional artist?”

A small, sad smile crept across his face. “Maybe if I’ve lost my family, I can think about it.”

I turned, concerned. “What happened?”

“I told them everything.”

My eyes widened. “So they know?—”

“That we’re together and that Dallas was harassing me. My dad was so mad at you guys, and he was saying all this unfair shit. I couldn’t let him do that. Only now—” His voice broke. “How do I ever make up for disappointing them like this?”

“Oh, golden boy.” I crossed to him in two long strides, tugging him into my arms. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn’t let Dallas piss me off and started a fight, we wouldn’t have gotten arrested, and you wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up everything.”

“Dallas started it, not you.” Emory pulled back, eyes wide and sad. “Besides, I would have had to tell them, eventually. How could I not when the trade-off is you?”

“I’m not worth that.”

“You are ,” Emory insisted. “You’re the first person to make me feel like myself. To want something for me. I didn’t do this for you, Gray. I did it for me. Because I can’t walk away. I don’t want to. Because I-I…” He stumbled over his words a bit.

“What?” I whispered.

“I love you,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “Maybe it’s too soon, and maybe this is the worst possible time to tell you, but?—”

“I love you too,” I cut in. “So fucking much.”

“Oh, thank god,” he said. “I was afraid I’d lose you and my family both. I don’t think I could handle that.”

I brought him in for a gentle, lingering kiss. “You can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m here for you, always.”

“Good.” He smiled tentatively. “Take a shower with me?”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” I teased. “I’m dying to rinse off the jail stink.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

I followed him into a small, tidy bathroom with bright orange floor mats. Emory seemed to love color. I’d been captivated by his art, but his whole living room had been an explosion of bright shades of yellow, orange, and red. It was so at odds with the business attire he wore to the bank I wondered how the poor guy didn’t suffocate in the bland, corporate atmosphere.

He stripped off the teal T-shirt he’d worn to the Granville festival yesterday, and I stopped thinking about what Emory wore and admired what he didn’t wear instead. He shimmied out of his jeans, stopping with them halfway down his thighs.

“You going to shower in your clothes?”

I dragged my gaze up to his teasing smile. “Got a little distracted by the gorgeous view.”

“Uh-huh. I noticed.” He kicked off his jeans and turned to flip on the faucet. Damn, his ass was even more distracting.

The shower came on, and Emory stepped inside the stall.

I hurried to strip off my clothes so I could join him. In thirty seconds flat, I was pushing past the shower curtain and pressing up against his wet, slippery body.

“I didn’t expect this day to be anything but a shitfest,” I murmured before kissing his neck. “You make everything better.”

He leaned back against me, craning his neck to the side to give me room to kiss, nibble, and lick.

He moaned softly. “You make me feel perfect.”

“You are perfect.”

He turned and slipped his arms over my shoulders. “No. I’m not even close, but the way you look at me, the way you give me room to be whoever I need to be…” He kissed me. “It means the world to me.”

I pulled him tight against me, deepening the kiss. Water poured over my head and down my back, everything hot and wet and slippery.

I let my hands roam up and down his torso, feeling out his lean muscle, the sharpness of his hips, and the curve of his pecs.

When I brushed my thumb over his right nipple, he arched, pushing his ass against my hardening cock.

“Fuck, yeah,” I murmured. “Hand me the bodywash.”

Emory grabbed the bottle and handed it over, never questioning my plans. He trusted me so completely that it shook me a little. Could I really be everything he needed? I’d fucked up his life by acting rashly. Fucked up Holden’s work to improve our reputation.

And yet Emory was here, loving me instead of telling me to go to hell.

I still wasn’t sure I deserved it, regardless of what he said. But I was so damn grateful I could cry.

I pumped a handful of body wash into my palm and rubbed it between his ass cheeks. He sucked in a sharp breath, parting his legs a little.

I reached around his body, using the remainder of the slick soap to fist his cock and stroke. He moaned, head dropping back onto my shoulder.

“Fuck me, Gray,” he said, voice wrecked from just a few touches. “Please.”

I positioned my cock at his ass—not to push inside but to ride the slick space between his cheeks. I rubbed up against all his wet, slippery flesh and groaned as pleasure streaked through me.

Emory made a questioning sound, but as I rocked a second time, the head of my cock catching and tugging his rim, making him gasp, and my right hand jerking his cock in time with my thrusts, he got the idea.

I pinched and rolled his nipple with my left hand, making him whimper and arch perfectly for my cock to thrust through his ass cheeks once more.

“Feels so good,” he gasped.

I feasted on his neck, kissing and sucking while I rutted against him, chasing the high that only he could give me. Sure, I could get off with other guys, but there had never been the same need to it, one that went beyond flesh and nerves to the very heart of me.

My arms tightened around Emory, holding him closer. “Fuck, I want to mark you up and make you mine.”

“Do it,” he said. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

I sucked hard on his neck while I squeezed his cock, and he came with a cry, warm cum washing away with the shower spray.

I held him through it, softening my love bites to gentle kisses.

Emory pulled out of my arms and dropped to his knees, taking my cock into his mouth. I probably tasted like soap, but he devoured me anyway, moaning as my shaft filled his mouth.

His tongue curled around me, danced over my tip, and then delved into the slit at the top.

“Gonna come,” I rasped.

He took me deep, a challenging look in his eye, and I came down his throat, vision whiting out as my climax slammed into me. I slapped one hand to the wall to hold me up as I curled forward, my whole body shuddering with the release.

Emory rose to his feet and grabbed the soap, using it to scrub me down. “We should probably actually wash before the hot water’s gone.”

We took turns soaping up and rinsing, then got out. Emory handed me a spare towel from the cabinet, and we dried off.

I picked up my clothes from the floor, and Emory held out his arms. “Let me wash those. We can cuddle in bed while the laundry does its thing.”

“See? You are perfect,” I said.

He took my bundle. “Glad you think so, anyway.”

His bedroom was next door to the bathroom, and I let myself into his bed while he started the load of wash. He joined me only a few minutes later.

“I really didn’t expect my day to end up here,” he mused as he laid his head on my shoulder. “But it’s a pretty good place to land. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

I combed my fingers through his damp hair. Kissed his forehead. My heart was full to bursting, despite the shitty argument with Holden, so I knew what he meant.

I didn’t want to disturb his relative peace, but I couldn’t leave it unsaid.

“I’m always going to be glad to be with you, but I don’t want it to be at the cost of your family.”

He tensed, and I stroked a hand soothingly down his spine. “Just don’t give up on them, Emory. You fought for me. Maybe it’s time you fight for yourself too. Because being without your family…” My throat tightened. “Well, it’s lonely even when you’re not alone.”

He shifted, brow furrowed. “But you have family, Gray. You and your brothers are so close.”

I nodded. “And for too long, I was without them. I regret those missed years.”

“I don’t know if my parents will love this version of me,” Emory said in a small voice. “I’m not the son they raised. My dad the same as said so.”

“I can’t speak for them, and I wasn’t there, so take it with a grain of salt, but…they’ve never gotten a chance to know this side of you.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Unless you give them the chance, they never will.”

“Maybe.” He sighed. “I’m just so exhausted right now. Can we just stop thinking and maybe take a nap?”

“Sure. Go to sleep, golden boy.” I kissed his forehead. “I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Whatever Holden said, whatever my own fears about how to make up for letting them down or whether I could be everything Emory needed, I couldn’t run away.

Not this time.

Not ever again.