Mike rolled the cigarette with his tongue, so it moved to the other side of his mouth, and he leaned closer, his presence so loaded with sex Arden was getting worried he might embarrass himself on the bike.
“How did you get on their radar, naughty boy?”
“None of your business, just know… I’m dangerous.”
“Dangerously sexy. A real temptation with your long legs and that mouse-sized knife,” Mike said, and he rubbed Arden’s chest, rendering him breathless. The guy really had no shame.
“It’s small, so no one sees it coming until it’s too late.” He approached the bike as an excuse to turn away from Mike. The trail on his chest burned with unwanted sparks of arousal, so he took a deep breath of the dusty air.
Mike tossed the cigarette into the dirt and rubbed his hands before mounting his steel beast with a self-satisfied smile. “It’s gonna feel nice. Just clench your thighs on it and hold on to me as tightly as you can.”
Arden was losing confidence in this idea by the second, but temptation was too great, so he grabbed Mike’s arm when mounting the bike. As soon as he was in the seat, its curve made Arden slide straight toward Mike’s ass.
This was bad. Was there still time to change his mind?
Mike chuckled, and as the bike came to life, Arden put his arms around him, trembling along with the revving machine. “Knew I’d get you to spread your legs one way or another.”
Any answer Arden could have to the insolence got drowned out by the bike’s engine. At least this meant Arden could stop lying to them both because yes, he’d spread his legs for Mike.
Chapter 3 – Mike
All the jokes about hard-ons pressing against his ass passed through Mike’s brain on the way to Reno, and he was almost disappointed that he hadn’t felt any evidence of Arden’s arousal. Sure, they both wore jeans, and the stiff fabric must have held the boy’s cock at bay, but it was like a slight. As if Arden hadn’t been lying about his complete lack of attraction to Mike. Which couldn’t have been the case. Maybe he’d simply been stressed by his first ride.
“And here we are,” Mike said as they dismounted in front of the huge mall. He couldn’t wait to be inside and enjoying the aircon.
Arden slid off the bike and was flushed when he took off the helmet, his hair creating a frizz of platinum around his head. Every time Mike looked at him, he found something new to consider cute. Which was kinda weird and confusing, because all jokes aside, he wasn’t actually interested in fucking a boy.
“What?” Arden frowned and pushed back a strand of wavy hair that had slid out of the pink bun.
Mike’s gaze was drawn to the slender shoulders. Just as he noticed the lacy trim on something Arden wore under his T-shirt, the scent of cookies baking at a shop nearby hit his nose, making him salivate. His focus got laser-sharp, and the longer he stared, the more obvious it became the undergarment was some kind of bra. Did that mean Arden had tits? Was Mike so drawn to him because he was not entirely a boy? It wasn’t impossible that Arden was intersex, or something.
Mike wanted to sink his teeth into the smooth cream of his shoulder regardless. To pull on the strap and find out whether it carried any weight at all.
“Is that a bra?”
Arden pushed the strap back up and out of sight. Shame. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mike frowned as they passed the revolving doors and entered the building, which greeted them with shiny floors and a thatch of fake bamboo surrounded by benches. “Hey, it happens all the time with underwear. Remember thongs and hipster jeans? That was a time to be alive. Do you wear thongs?” he asked, even though something at the back of his mind told him he shouldn’t have.
Arden shrugged and entered the bright space under a glass roofing. “Weren’t you supposed to buy me bubble tea?”
Did Arden understand that being given the cold shoulder was only spurring Mike on? Maybe he was doing it on purpose. It reminded Mike of that one time he got the hots for his chemistry teacher. She’d pretended to be angry with his constant flirting, but went on to ride his dick every weekend for three months as soon as he’d graduated.
“Are you always this eager to get to the main dish? Because I’m a guy who likes himself some foreplay,” Mike mused and draped his arm over Arden’s slender shoulders, with delicate bones he now wanted to suck dry. Was it Arden’s girly smell that confused him?
Arden stiffened at first, but then looked up at Mike with those big blue eyes. How could a man be this pretty? “Are you not afraid of people staring?”
Mike went still, and for the blink of an eye it occurred to him that he did kinda care whether strangers saw him touching a girly boy. Which in turn spurred anger, because why would he be self-conscious about anything he did? He was a stud, who’d fuck anyone he wanted, not one of those pathetic cockroaches who didn’t dare to be open with such things. He was Mike Heller, the unofficial Mr. Nevada—too good for bullshit like beauty contests—and if he wanted to fake-date a boy, he absolutely would, and anyone who had a problem with it could go fuck themselves!
So he held his head high and paraded down the corridor while the faceless figures of the other shoppers became the background to his day out. He used to love this place while in high school. Now? Not so much. They always played music he disliked, and the shops screamed at him with large banners advertising sales and new collections. But he wasn’t here for his own amusement. He was here to prove Kane wrong.
“No. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“Your abs are awfully chiseled for someone who doesn’t care. And your ink—” Arden stalled, looking for words. “Your tattoo artist did a very good job.”
Mike stretched, his chest inflated with air. “Yeah. She’s very, very good. Told me I was like a tropical bird among sparrows. Poetic, eh?”
Arden snorted. “Whaat? That’s so cheesy. She just wanted a tip. And the lion?”
Mike shrugged. “Lions have multiple females and are the graceful kings of the savanna. Basically, I’m a biker lion. And with the way you dress, you don’t seem to dislike attention either?”
“I’m used to it, I’m a graceful, unique butterfly. I want to live as my true self, not hide it so everyone else is comfortable.”
A surprisingly stern answer from a boy who smelled like a flower and seemed so frail a strong gust of wind could topple him.
Mike liked it.
“What does it mean? What is your true self?” he asked, too entranced by the movement of Arden’s lips to notice the stores they were passing. So maybe there was no sex at the end of the road they were taking, but this might still be one of the most interesting dates he’d been on.
“I’m a man, and I like that. I like all my bits, but since I also like lace and makeup, then I’m gonna enjoy it. I don’t even care if it’s attractive to others or not,” Arden said, leading the way, because Mike had no idea where they could buy the bubble drink thing.
The way Arden lifted his chin proudly like a kid who’d gotten an A for their assignment made Mike snort. Too cute. And yet his brain munched on the words that stood out to him.
Lace. Bits.
Arden was gay, but nothing like Zolt or Leo. He wasn’t hairy or butch or intent on proving his masculinity to anyone, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like naked. Was Arden shaved all over? He would find out about his legs at least once the boy wore shorts.