Page 92 of Chasing After You
I stayed close, yet did my best to blend into the background. The only times I made myself known were when Josh paused to introduce himself to someone new. I made sure I was standing near enough to touch him—a hand on the back of his neck, my fingers brushing his shoulder. Nothing super obvious, but enough—enough that no one could miss it.
Mine.
Most of the bikers were older—forties, fifties, some with white in their beards and sunburns permanently marring their skin. They wore their patches like old battle scars, the kind that didn’t fade, didn’t heal. Their reactions to me varied. Some gave polite nods. Some barely acknowledged me at all. One man—heavyset, arms crossed, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth—gave me an interested once-over and muttered, “Didn’t know Paul’s kid swung that way.”
I smiled at him, all teeth, threatening. “Just for me.”
The man shook his head at me and let out a laugh. “Not into sharing, I take it?”
Josh missed it—he was busy laughing with a wiry man missing two fingers. Paul, however, didn’t. His eyes flicked toward me for a second before returning to Josh.
I wasn’t here to make friends or to shake hands and swap stories about how many miles my bike had on it. I didn’t care. These people weren’t permanent. There was no point in small talk if it wasn’t a means to an end.
I was here for Josh.
I watched as his face lit up each time Paul introduced him to someone new.
“You don’t talk much,” someone said beside me.
I turned and found a tall woman leaning against a railing, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a faint smirk.
“Not much to say. This is his day,” I replied, throwing a glance over my shoulder at Josh.
She nodded once, like she respected that. “Paul’s protective of him. He’s always showing us photos and talking about their time together.”
I stayed silent, having nothing to add.
“And he’s been watching you like a hawk since y’all walked in.”
“I noticed.”
She chuckled, low and warm. “He doesn’t look like it, but he’s kinda the mother hen type. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you; he’s just being cautious.”
I looked over at Josh, who was doubled over laughing at something, surrounded by a small group of people.
“Yeah,” I said, my attention elsewhere—specifically, the lanky man in the crowd with the nameFirebugon his cut.
“You ride?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not a real talkative one in general, huh? Well, enjoy the night.” Then she pushed off the railing and wandered into the crowd without waiting for a response.
Now, was it time to finally meet someone potentially useful, or was it time to surprise Josh with the fact that his plug could vibrate?
I’d always been a great multitasker.
23
Josh
“Oh, fu—” A short, strangled moan punched out of me before I had the chance to smother it, raising the eyebrows of a few close bystanders. I shifted on my feet and gave them a strained smile. “Sorry, the car snacks must be getting to me.”
Heads nodded, and the conversation continued on. I tried to act like I was still paying attention, but in actuality, I was frantically scanning through the crowd to find Dorian, while simultaneously cursing him in my head.
It’d already taken immeasurable effort to walk around and engage with all of Paul’s buddies with my cock being strangled by its metal cage and the butt plug shifting and nudging my swollen prostate with what seemed like every step. But now the goddamn thing in my ass was vibrating!
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, hoping desperately that my face appeared normal to everyone around me. I’d be beyond mortified if Paul became known as “the one with a perverted nephew who gets off on sex toys publicly.”
