Page 4 of Filtration Play
Ollie swallowed hard.
The idea of getting pinned to the ground and fucked…holy shit. His cock stiffened, testing the confines of his pants. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t be getting hard as stone in his older brother’s former workplace, but here he was. He moved the latte in front of the evidence, as if that might shield him.
Fin’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Since you didn’t tell me to get the fuck away, I’m guessing you’re not opposed?”
“I’m down,” he rasped out, his voice wrecked with lust.
He’d been skating on an edge earlier, searching for something—anything—to pull him out.
Fin had walked in like a hurricane, and he couldn’t help but get swept away.
“Your Americano,” Hunter called.
Fin hopped up and strode over to the bar. Hunter passed them another warning look, which they promptly ignored. Ollie’s pulse thrummed hard. Fuck, he loved how they strolled in, demanded what they wanted, and didn’t hesitate to tell him either. Take it or leave it.
And goddamn, he wanted to get taken by them tonight.
However that manifested.
He glanced over at Jules, who was deeply invested in what looked to be a long, complex game with Cal and a few others. A little guilt pinged through him at darting off, but with the way the itch made itself known, he needed to grab hold of this distraction and run.
“Want to go for a ride?” Fin asked, their double entendre clear in the curve of their lips.
“Depends on what you’re driving,” he teased back.
“You won’t be disappointed.” The smokiness of their voice, how their eyes glimmered. Fuuuuck. “I’ve got a Ducati Multistrada V4 if you want to take a spin.”
Oh, fuck yes.
A ride was the exact thing he needed right now—in both senses of the word.
“Sign me up,” he said. “Let mejust say my goodbyes.”
“I’ll meet you outside.” Fin flashed him a heartbreaker grin. They sauntered away, the tightness of their jeans putting their muscular ass on clear display.
Ollie’s veins hummed like he’d shoved a stick of dynamite inside them.
Whether this was a good or bad idea would be determined, but tonight, he would dive into this maelstrom and see where he landed.
Chapter Two
Some days, the only way to escape was to twist the throttle and fly down the highway at top speed.
Having a hot guy at their back didn’t hurt either.
Zipping along 280, the wind whipped around Fin like a living beast. Their bike thrummed beneath them, an extension of their body as they zoomed past one car after another, blowing past the speed limit. Ollie pressed against them felt damn good too, a furnace of heat that formed the perfect contrast to the icy winds.
The sunset sprawled out across the horizon in a lazy tumble compared to the way they shot down the blackened asphalt of the freeway. Tonight was a brilliant one, golds and crimsons filled with explosive promise. The colors tore across the sky like sunken claws, trying to keep their footholds on the canvas, more than a little how Fin felt tonight. The scent of the road and the crispness of the wind wereintoxicating. Energy brimmed inside them, the volatile sort that demanded to fuck or fight or ride.
Visiting their mother was a few times a year occurrence. They didn’t know why they still bothered.
I’m fine, Finley.
Fine. Fucking fine. They’d heard the word over and over and over to the point they loathed it.
All those purplish bruises said differently, Mom.
Each one stirred up memories, ones they tried to run from, and the days their mother canceled their rare meetups came as a relief. Better than dealing with the battery acid in their stomach that each visit left them with. Knowing who their mother would return to.
