Gutter Mind – Smoke Valley MC – Sex & Mayhem Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Biker, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
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While Arden showered, Mike stretched the panties over his softened cock, but it wasn’t the same without Arden in there with him.

And besides, he was too upset to get hard again and managed to remove the incriminating evidence from his dick before Arden returned, wrapped in a towel.

Their eyes met, and Mike was hit by a longing so intense he rolled out of bed right away. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Arden did smile at him though and grabbed Mike’s wrist to stop him on the way to the shower. He stood on his toes and kissed Mike’s cheek. “I did have fun. It’s gonna be okay between us.”

Mike made himself smile. “Of course. Kissing friends,” he said and swatted Arden’s ass before hiding in the bathroom where the damp air left behind by the first shower choked him from the get-go.

Damn it.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

His shower would be a cool one. Maybe once he woke up tomorrow, his unexplained attraction to Arden would be only a memory.

He took his time, washing every bit of his body and hair, because despite Arden playing it so cool, things had changed, and Mike didn’t feel like facing that fact. By the time he finally left the bathroom, Arden was all tucked in and peeked at him from where he squashed his cheek on the pillow.

Mike would have eaten his own hand to keep him around.

“Look, I know you know I lied. I wanted the one bed. So if that’s not okay, I can just sleep on the floor tonight.”

Arden pushed a pillow at him. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a big bed.” He then proceeded to put another pillow between them. “There. Respectable.”

Mike accepted the fluffy wall between them. But somehow, in his sleep, Arden crawled over it, and by midnight, he lay with his head on Mike’s shoulder.

Chapter 12 – Mike

Mike had never stopped missing Leah.

He’d been sixteen when he’d met her, and knew he’d want to marry her only a month later. But life—death—had gotten in the way.

She was a bit too tall, a bit too thin, with black eyes and the biggest nose he’d seen on a girl. He’d loved that nose as much as she’d hated it. It was an unexpected feature that some might have called ugly, but it made her even more beautiful to Mike. Yeah, he wasn’t blind, and there were plenty of girls, who were technically prettier than Leah, but none of them had her smile, none of them understood him to the point of finishing sentences for him.

Everything changed when he lost her, and while he tried to go through life with a smile, it often remained skin-deep, because he would never let himself forget that she’d still be alive if she hadn’t foolishly chosen him.

There had been a few women since Leah who had caught his attention for longer, but Mike wouldn’t let them make Leah’s mistake, and kept them at arm’s length. They didn’t know he was doing them a favor when he broke their hearts.

He stroked the patches on the back of the vest that had belonged to her, fondly remembering the night he’d given it to her. Mad Mike had been his motocross nickname, and he hadn’t even been a prospect, let alone held the right to gift a woman a property vest. But he’d been young and stupid, so he’d mirrored the gestures he’d learned were important. He’d sewn on the patches himself, and Leah had worn them like a badge of honor.

That vest had caused her death, and pointed her out to anyone who cared to look. Mike should have burned the thing years ago, but he didn’t have the heart to. Not then, not now. He put it back in the wardrobe so it could serve its purpose as a reminder of why Mike wasn’t allowed to love.

Out of his family, he’d been the only one who’d lost a partner to gang conflict, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen again, and the last thing he needed was to pull anyone into danger for his selfish needs. He wasn’t a good guy, but he did have a heart.

His gaze drifted to the bed, where he’d slept with Arden since their return from San Francisco. Arden’s side always had that faint scent of jasmine that made him want to roll in the sheets and let that aroma cling to his flesh, but he would not do it.

Mike had never been good at lying to himself. He’d fucked up.

He’d allowed himself too close to Arden, because he didn’t think it would cause any issues. After all, he was straight and therefore couldn’t develop gay feelings, but he had, and couldn’t take any of it back.

He still felt straight but was falling for Arden as if he’d slipped and was tumbling toward the boy’s waiting arms at record speed. He hadn’t planned for this to happen, but it did, and the one way forward was to ignore his budding feelings until Arden moved on.



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