There was no way Jackson should make the meet at Humboldt. He knew that. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he fucked guys, he was now fucking one who repped the KKz. Granted, he didn’t know Evan was affiliated before they’d banged, but Jackson wondered if it would have made a difference if he had. Evan turned him on like nobody ever had before. During the brief times Jack had been around him, he’d been putty in the redhead’s hands. He still couldn’t believe that he’d sucked that huge cock out in the open. He was in disbelief that he wanted to do it again, even knowing what he did now.
He wasn’t sure what the fuck was wrong with him. He didn’t get dick-whipped. He fucked them once and threw them away. But Evan had felt different from the start. Jackson wanted to believe it was his body and the way he used it, but Jacks feared it was more than that. He liked his attitude and the way he carried himself, the way his eyes shined even in the dark and how Jack realized in the light of the day that they were toffee-tinged brown. He found himself drawn to Evan’s smile. Though Jackson had spent only a short time with him, he could already tell that the redhead’s grins weren’t easy to come by.
Jackson could relate. He didn’t see much of a point faking shit. He smiled when he fucking felt like it and lately, that hadn’t been often. Maybe that would change. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but between Tammy, Aiden, and the challenge of getting product, Jackson hadn’t had many reasons. He wished he could convince himself that he wasn’t thinking that chilling with a Klown Killer and smiling may become synonymous. He felt like a cartoon where an anvil was dropped onto some fucker’s head and all of a sudden he was loopy, seeing stars and hearts.
It wasn’t that Jack thought any of this shit was a good idea. In fact, he knew it wasn’t. It was more that he wasn’t sure he gave a fuck, which was by far the most dangerous aspect of it all. As soon as the crew caught a guy slipping, they were on him. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy, and fucking the enemy was messier than anything else he was able to imagine.
Still, he’d wasted too much time dealing with Tamara. He wanted to actually feel something for someone, at least lust, and maybe more. Wanting Evan set Jackson’s body on fire and he didn’t fear the burn even though he knew he should have.
The redhead had to be new to the crew. If he’d been with them for a while, Jackson would’ve noticed him. Evan stood out in all the best ways. Maybe the street wasn’t ingrained in him like it was in Jackson. After all, he still wanted to see him after he found out which gang he banged with.
Jackson wished he’d punched Evan harder; maybe that would’ve deterred him. It would’ve been easier if he had been turned off, walked away. Anything.
Jackson knew he had two legs of his own and could have used them to walk the hell away from the whole situation. Instead, he found himself walking toward it, walking toward him.
“Hoped you’d come,” Evan said with one of those coveted smiles stretching across his busted lip. Amid the darkness that was ensconcing the park, it glowed. It was challenging for Jackson to shift his perception. He’d made himself believe that Evan had lived a life of privilege and he still saw him that way, though it was easy to predict that he hadn’t. Rich kids didn’t end up in street gangs. Still, when Jack looked at him, he couldn’t help but think he was too beautiful to be wrapped up in the lifestyle, too good. Jack doubted Evan could even fight. After all, he hadn’t thrown a punch after Jackson had clocked him on the court. Having the body for it didn’t make a guy a solid fighter. Evan was contradiction: a beast in the sheets and seemingly meek on the streets.
“Hoped you wouldn’t,” Jackson replied honestly. He stood a few feet away from where Evan was sitting on the bench, wearing a maroon t-shirt that Jack wanted to rip off for various reasons.
Evan nodded knowingly. “Guess you’re disappointed then?” he asked, rising to his feet and starting to make his way toward Jack.
Jackson considered pulling his gun on the motherfucker, unsure what his intentions were. Though he didn’t trust people to begin with, he certainly wasn’t going to have any certitude in a fucking Klown Killer, regardless of how hot he was.
Goddamn, he was really hot, though. Instead of reaching for his Glock, Jack pushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead and licked his lips, able to smell the faint scent of weed as Evan drew closer. So close. Evan was going to kiss him. Jack wanted to be kissed. He didn’t crave kisses, but he was hungry for this one. As soon as he parted his lips and closed his eyes, he felt a clenched fist connect with his mouth.
“The fuck was that for?” he snapped, holding his cheek and turning his head so he could spit blood over his shoulder.
Before Evan could answer, Jackson returned the blow, earning another swing and a sardonic laugh from the redhead, whose lip had split open again, causing blood to stream down his chin. The asshole could fight. Jackson regretted doubting it as he readjusted his jaw.
“Now we’re even for earlier.” Evan grinned, lifting his shirt to wipe his face. Jackson couldn’t help but admire the toned abdominal muscles and the way they flexed as Evan panted for breath. “Like what you see?” he asked with a smirk, openly aware of Jackson’s gaze drinking him in.
Jackson closed the space between them and tugged Evan’s shirt over his head, unable to stand seeing him in that color, or a shirt at all for that matter.
“We doing this?” Evan asked as Jack traced his fingertips over the cuts of Evan’s six-pack. He smelled like soap, cigarettes, and peppermint, a combination that was driving Jack crazy. A loaded question, though Jackson could choose to take it at the surface if he wanted to. “Jackson?”
Heaven to hear his name coming from those lips. “Don’t know what ‘this’ is,” he muttered in reply, his voice reflecting the tentativeness he was feeling. Whatever “this” was, he knew they shouldn’t be doing it. He wanted to believe that he could take one more taste, but it seemed unlikely that he wouldn’t be back for more, no matter how bad of an idea it was. He was taken by surprise when Evan dipped his head and slotted their mouths together, hard.
The kiss was as painful as it was passionate, with bruised lips moving together as their tongues swirled wildly through the metallic taste. Fingers tangled in hair as bodies pressed close, desperate from the days spent aching for each other. It was impossible to ignore how consumed they had been since their first meeting, and, it seemed, neither was quite sure exactly what it meant. All Jackson was positive about was that they needed to fuck, and they needed to do it as soon as humanly possible.
They kissed their way behind the rock, where they proceeded to strip the rest of their clothes off as expeditiously as they could. As soon as Jackson slid the lube packet into Evan’s hand, he immediately pushed Jackson’s bare chest against the boulder and began to prep him roughly, making Jackson nearly crawl out of his skin, evidenced by moans coming from his mouth. With lips fastened to the back of his neck, Evan probed and scissored until Jackson demanded, “Get the fuck in me.”
Reaching down to grab a condom out of the pocket of his discarded pants, Jackson turned to see Evan tear the gold foil with his teeth and roll the magnum over his dick. The volume of their collective sigh increased with each inch Evan pushed in. As soon as he was filling Jackson to the hilt, he started to roll his hips, slow at first, then to a backbreaking pace that had both men groaning at the sensation. Jackson reached around so he could dig his fingernails into the flesh of Evan’s clenched ass cheek, prompting him to give him more.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about this ass, this perfect fucking ass,” Evan crooned as he slammed into Jackson, hunching over his back and driving into his prostate.
“Yeah?” Jackson asked, his voice broken by a moan.
“Yeah,” Evan confirmed, grabbing on to the bones of Jackson’s hips tighter and angling up. The shift had Jack shaking and groaning. He felt Evan trying to fuck him into submission; that he was intent on giving Jack the banging of his life to ensure he extracted a promise that they’d see each other again. “So fucking hot, Jackson.”
The sound of his name rolling from Evan’s lips was overwhelming. He’d never told a guy he’d hooked up with his name. It felt as intimate as getting bent over a rock in the middle of a fucking park could. Though all his thoughts were being fucked out of his mind, he knew that he wanted to hear it again. “Say it again.”
“So hot, Jackson,” Evan croaked. When Jackson’s hand dropped to his cock and he began to tug, Evan knocked it away. “Going to fuck it out of you.”
“Never,” Jackson panted, trying to grasp onto the surface of the rock to steady himself, without much success. He gasped when he felt Evan’s arms wrap protectively around his chest, giving him the support he needed. “Ain’t going to work.”
“I’ll get you there,” Evan assured, fastening his lips to Jackson’s earlobe and sucking hard. “Want it?”
“Yeah.” His voice was wavering from the force with which he was being fucked, body jarring forward only to be pulled back with each jolt.
“Tell me you want it,” Evan grunted.
“I want it,” Jackson moaned, squeezing his eyes shut as his knees grew weak. “Give it to me.”
With that, Evan drilled into Jackson, his dick absolutely assaulting the sensitive spot inside him with each thrust. Undulating cries broke out of Jackson’s throat as he spilled his seed onto the boulder in front of him. Evan wasn’t far behind, emptying into the condom with a whimper of Jackson’s name. They struggled to catch their breath for a few moments, the fervency slipping away as they drew air into their lungs, leaving them paused with questions.
“Am I going to see you again?” Evan asked, bending over to hand Jackson his pants before shimmying into his own.
“We can meet here Tuesday,” Jack replied, sniffing uncomfortably as he pulled on his black sleeveless top. He wished he could have told Evan to fuck off, but Jack didn’t have it in him. Not after the asshole made him come untouched.
His thoughts were interrupted by Evan reaching behind him. For a moment Jack thought he’d misread the sitch. But the Klown had taken his phone out of his back pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Want to see you before that,” the redhead answered, typing his digits into Jackson’s cell. “So I’m giving you my number,” he pressed send to place a call to himself, “and taking yours.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes, not sure what to make of the man standing before him. “Don’t fucking call me.”
“You got a wife or something?” Evan asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No I don’t got a fucking wife. What the fuck are you looking for?” Jack questioned when he noticed Evan’s eyes darting around the area.
“My shirt.”
“Tossed that shit back there,” Jackson answered with a grimace. “Look better without it. Red ain’t your color.”
“Clashes with my hair?” Evan grinned, and Jackson scowled.
“Not kidding about that shit,” he said gruffly, giving Evan a once-over before walking away.
“I’m going to text you,” Evan called after him. “You said not to call but nothing about texting.”
Jackson shot up both middle fingers without looking back and then picked up Evan’s discarded t-shirt and dumped it in the trashcan.
“Asshole, that’s full of fucking used condoms,” he shouted as Jackson laughed all the way home.