Page 7 of Nugget

“Good. Because it’s family dinner night and the boys have been dying to get you alone. I’d expect them to corner you no matter what Axel says.”

“Fun times,” Gavin deadpanned.

* * * * *

Stryker

He was not jealous! Stryker was not jealous that he was sitting coped up in his amazing RV while Gavin and his friends were cooking steaks, drinking beer, and having a great time.

Stryker didn’t need friends.

He was better off on his own.

Having friends meant that someone was close enough to put a knife in your back. Stryker had learned at an early age that it didn’t matter if the person was family or claimed to be a friend—if given the chance, everyone only looked out for themselves.

Still watching from the camera above the back door, Stryker couldn’t help but scowl as Gavin relaxed in a deck chair while sipping on a beer.

Gavin was wearing another pair of those indecent jeans that he seemed to enjoy provoking Stryker with. The rips and tears showed off all that toned tanned skin that Gavin liked to flash Stryker glimpses of. Fuck! Gavin was hot as hell. The black tank that he wore had stretched to one side, revealing one dark nipple.

Would it be bad if he jerked off for the third time in a day?

Stryker was dying to have Gavin’s attention on him and only him. Stryker was the one that should be making Gavin laugh and smile.

It didn’t help that Gavin still hadn’t returned any of Stryker’s text messages.

Fifteen messages since Gavin had sent the one that had Stryker nearly riding his bike into town and tracking down his Papi. Fifteen unanswered messages. Fucker! The fucker knew what he was doing to Stryker.

Even reclining on that chair, Gavin was taunting him.

The asshole wasn’t wearing underwear. Stryker just knew it. He’d seen Gavin dress enough time in those jeans to see where every naked inch of him was. If Stryker were there, he could slip a hand inside one of those tears and touch Gavin.

Pushing his chair from the desk, Stryker rose to stomp to the freezer.

“Nuggies!” Stryker said. “You’ve never let me down. You don’t tease me. Just give me nourishment and yumminess.” He grabbed the half-open bag then slammed the freezer door shut.

He couldn’t help glancing back at his monitors as he dumped the nuggets into the basket of the air fryer. He didn’t need steak. Or beer. Or whatever else Drake, the amazing chef of the family, was cooking up. He had nuggies and an air fryer. He was a God in the RV world.

Air fryers were so cool! Better than nuking his nuggies in the microwave where they would be soggy, and didn’t take as long as they did in the oven. The RV had come with the air fryer, so it had been the first one that Stryker had ever used. He was totally taking the air fryer with him when he gave the RV back to that dumbass agent.

Although if the government agent and his private dick didn’t get on the ball then Stryker might not return the RV at all. They were annoying him. He’d left plenty of breadcrumbs for them to follow but they hadn’t made a move.

Returning to his desk, Stryker plopped back down into the chair.

Gavin was still sipping on that beer. Axel, Levi, and Drake were all hanging out with him. Boring. Stryker left Gavin’s fine form on one monitor while moving another camera to the monitor beside it.

The boys of the family were climbing on that giant playset that was in front of the deck. That sort of looked fun. Not that Stryker wanted to play with the other boys. He was fine where he was. Watching.

It had taken Stryker a few days to figure out the dynamic of the friend group. At first, he’d been worried that Dean and Noah had somehow found themselves in the middle of a paranormal harem or something. Not that Stryker couldn’t see why that would appeal to someone since the men were hot as fuck. Slowly, Stryker had realized that the friends were more like family.

There were couples and throuples in the group, but they were all committed to their partners. Mates. They called themselves mates. Their dynamics were interesting, loving, and Stryker was still not jealous. Damn it, he might be a little jealous.

Stryker didn’t want to dress in diapers or drink out of a bottle, had no desire to wear a puppy tail, or anything like that. There was an appeal that he recognized but Stryker was pretty sure he’d make a horrible little or pup. Stryker couldn’t keep his mouth closed when needed. It was a whole thing. He did love watching the more dominant partners care for and spoil their boys.

The more submissive partners were doted on whether they were little, puppy, bratty, or just submissive. Loved. Cared for. They were given attention without even having to ask for it. That must be addicting, to have found someone who loved them that much.

Watching from his safe little spot in the RV, Stryker wished for once in his life to be a part of something like the men he observed.

Not that Stryker expected that they’d accept him.

---