Page 51 of A Handsome Devil

I croaked, “Yeah? What’m I doing wrong now?”

“You’re not supposed to be carrying anything heavy since your hip surgery.”

I scoffed. “It’s been a month. And I don’t even need the walker anymore. I want to help with your party.”

We were at the Happy Hour clubhouse of the Bent Zealots MC, and I was backed up against a shelf of onions and green peas in the shell.

“I’ll show you how you can help with the party, boy,” Truman snarled, angling his hips against mine. “You can help by helping out your daddy.”

Although Truman had the youthful, fresh-faced innocence of the eternal therapist, enthusiastically helping everyone around him, when it came to me, all bets were off. I loved seeing sides of him no one else saw. He could be raw, snarly, twisted. It was great.

Shoving the onions aside, I hopped onto the shelf. “Okay, daddy. What do you want?”

“I’m going to teach you how to please others. Don’t you want to please others, make them like you?”

“Oh, yes,” I purred, unbuttoning his shirt to slide my hand across his pec. Pinching his nipple, he gasped. “How do I do that?”

Sucking in air, Truman hissed, “Get on your knees. Or I’ll spank you.” But I could tell he was already weak with lust.

I gratefully slid to my knees, gripping his hips. I rubbed my cheekbone against the erection packed inside his tight jeans. Nobody wore suits in Rough and Ready, and it made me moan. “Yes, sir, mister mayor. Whatever you tell me to do.”

He clutched the back of my skull, pressing my face into him. “Then take it out. You know what to do. You’ve done this before, right?”

“Yes,” I groaned. “Only with you, sir.”

Swiftly I undid his belt—complete with a pewter buckle of a motorcycle—and out popped his dick, long, thick, and stiff. Circling my lips with my tongue to wet them, I dove on in, taking the smooth head back to my tonsils.

He groaned so deeply I could feel the vibration in his stomach. I massaged his pubic bone while gulping and swallowing, running my entire mouth down his length.

He was so taken away he could barely murmur, “Show me how you can make daddy proud…”

I couldn’t answer with my mouth full, but I wanted to say yes! Yes, I’m going to make you proud of me! No one had ever been proud of me as an individual, not a musician onstage, not a conductor or a guitarist, just me, the human being Alessio Messina! I wanted to climb to the rooftop not threatening to jump off, just crowing to the entire town that I and I alone was the lover of this amazing man Truman Oakley.

“Oh yeah…that’s right…that’s good…” he groaned. The jizz boiled up from his balls, rolling up the underside of his cock, until it spurted down my throat, way past my taste buds. I swallowed and swallowed load after load, as if he hadn’t come in weeks. He gasped in air, then didn’t breathe, then gulped some more, then held his breath.

When he finally sighed and let go of my hair, I detached and uncoiled to a standing position. We were plastered together, panting and sort of laughing. Running our fingers against each other’s faces.

“Hey,” boomed Lock Singer, the Bent Zealots Veep. We both jumped a little, but no one made a move to detach. “The caterer has a lot more fish-related things that need to go in here. Prospect!”

Of course that meant me. Truman could hardly still be a Prospect. I practically saluted. “Yes, sir!”

“Get on out here. Everything’s melting. We got a giant cake and don’t want your jizz on it!”

I kissed Truman briefly, allowing him time to tuck himself away again, and marched out into the bar area. The room was packed with partiers, both MC and otherwise. Almost all men, their booming laughter could probably be heard down the block, but the bail bonds next door was used to it. And Herbal Legends, the dispensary owned by the Prez Turk, was closed for the day in celebration with us. My music store up the street, the Vibe Vault, was most definitely shut down for this.

The cake box was on the bar next to Jack Hoffman, yukking it up with his old friends Drs. Huntington Mountjoy and Thymus Moog.

Hunt noticed me and said, “Jack was just telling us about—you tell him, Jack.”

Jack swiveled on his barstool to face me. Hands on knees, he brimmed with news. “Remember the body at the trailer park?”

He didn’t even need to mention the name. I nodded eagerly.

“Well. Me and a few of the citizens, Pickett and Ozzie and a few other naked guys, moved the body back to Pine Valley.” He looked suspiciously from side to side before adding, “In their freezer.”

I exploded. “Oh, man!” That was a major knee-slapper, and we all slapped our knees. Pine Valley had shut down while they relocated all the residents, so I wasn’t even sure the electricity was on. They were set to reopen under new management, and those guys were in for a surprise.

“Prospect!” This time it was the Prez himself, Turk Blackburn, who bellowed into my eardrum. “Get that cake into the fridge!”