Swallowing Mayhem (3 page)

Mayhem’s blank expression dropped
for a moment
but at
that moment, I saw
surprise.

“You don’t give a shit about me
or my reasons for joining the club. You’re asking me to make sure I wasn’t the
rat.” And here I thought we were bonding.

“We all needed to get to know you
better and they fucking volunteered me.” He opened the door. “Apparently, you
like to stare at my ass.” Then he hopped out.

I was alone in the truck with his
words seemingly echoing in my head. That was bullshit! I jumped out and slammed
the door shut. “I’m not staring at your ass. I’m not a homosexual,” I nearly
shouted as I rounded the corner of the vehicle.

Mayhem lifted a dark eyebrow.
“Tell your dick that.”

I glanced down. Okay, I may be
hard and filling up my jeans but that didn’t mean I wanted to play ass buddies
with him. I was undercover for fuck’s sake. “Was that story real?
Your father, jail, right from wrong?”
I asked as we started
walking along the flat, red ground toward the store. Normally I stayed in the
truck but this time I followed him.

“Yup.
All true.”

Interesting.
“You think
there’s a thick line between right and wrong?”

“I think a man having a master
should only be for fucking. And I think women should have their choice
about
who they want between their legs.” He
pulled a fresh cigar out of his jeans pocket and sniffed it. “I also think
,
you do stare at my ass a lot.” Mayhem opened the door to
Harley’s shop.

I was left staring at the back of
him until the door closed. So what, I appreciated another man’s body form. That
was all. Mayhem was tan skin over
thick
muscle. It was a natural reaction to appreciate his strength. That was all.
There was nothing sexual about it. And the only reason for my tented pants was
the fact that I hadn’t “handled my own business” since I went undercover. I
explained everything away and then felt confident enough to enter the store.

Harley’s was a one-story building
at the edge of the city with a connecting garage. There were smaller businesses
on the side of him and across the street but opposite his parking lot was a
construction site. It was lit up now. After the peacekeeper building bombings,
the government couldn’t sit back and ignore the problem. They decided to take
an active role in these lawbreakers, which is why they put me undercover. There
was a new bill being written up that would seriously limit the MC’s abilities.

The door clicked shut behind me
and the bright, sunny day was blocked out by the dimly lit room with only two
small windows covered by holographic curtains. There were rows of shelves here
with various hover tech parts. I followed a random a
isle
to the long counter that was toward the back of the store.

“Get lost?” Mayhem asked.

I ignored him.

He was bringing the cigar up to
his lips and that unique smell filled the air. It did not help my reasoning
skills when my dick only grew harder.

There was a rumble of noise from
the back room and then Harley came out.

I had a nagging suspicion that
this guy wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. He sold
parts,
but a few peacekeepers noticed that his store was getting a
lot more deliveries and pickups with the MC’s. Of course, they did own a
garage.

Harley J. Smithson, as his ID
claimed, was thirty years old. He had this easygoing posture as he placed the old-fashioned
book dangling from his fingers on the counter. He was a true ginger,
reddish
-orange hair on his head, a slight
shadow of stubble on his face with piercing green eyes, and freckles. He also
had an accent so thick I could hardly understand him.

“Hey, Harley.”
Mayhem took
another puff of his cigar.
“Our order in?”

“Aye, it’s ’ere. You wantin’ ta
see it or do ya trust yer
ol
’ pal, ’
arley
?”

Mayhem tipped the cigar out from
between his lips. “Now, I know you asked a
question,
but I don’t know what the fuck it was. Speak English, motherfucker.”

Harley smiled wide in spite of
the insult. “Yer just jealous I’m not shoving
me
big dick in yer arse.” Harley winked at me then turned and walked into the back
room.

“You wish you could get a piece
of
me,
” Mayhem said, grabbing the crotch
of his jeans.

I looked away. I
was being
polite.
Decent.
Yup, that’s why I looked away.

Harley placed a medium-sized box
on the counter then retrieved a second one.
“Yer bike parts.”
He wiped his hands on his pants.
 

Mayhem glanced at me. “Are you
waiting for a fucking blowjob? Put that shit in the truck.”

I stacked the boxes atop each
other.

“Aye, you know
t’at
saying.” Harley smiled wide and easy.

Mayhem grunted. “Happiness is a hand
job,
but bliss is a blowjob.”

Harley chuckled.
“’
ell fooking yea.”

I slowly made my way back out to
our vehicle. It was a matter of balance. I placed the boxes on the ground,
opened the back of the truck, and then put our cargo in. It took me a moment to
decide. Should I have a peek? My proof could be in there.
Explosives?
Guns?
Illegal items that would be
proof of the MC’s involvement?
I was staring at the boxes when Harley’s
front door closed. I quickly shoved the back door shut, securing our cargo, and
then came around to watch Mayhem walk toward me. He’d lost the cigar. His black
hair had a few wisps free and falling to caress his face. His muscles bunched
as he moved closer. Damn it, why the fuck was I still staring at him? I turned
away and hopped into the driver’s side. Even if I didn’t hear the door, I could
see
tell Mayhem was in. The cinnamon,
woodsy cigar smell permeated from his clothes. I inhaled deeply,
starting
the truck up and then got us the hell
out of there.

Chapter Three

We were sitting in traffic again.
Wasn’t that a
bitch.
Traffic on
Mars.
Well, we hit the streets at the wrong time. Everyone was coming
home from work so we sat hovering over the ground waiting for the sorry excuse
for a driver in front of us to move. The awkward silence was getting to me.
Mayhem was sitting there, smoking his cigar behind tinted windows. The smell in
the truck was growing, taking on a life of its own until I was constantly
breathing in the scent that was Mayhem. Damn it. That sounded way too
homosexual. I cleared my throat and tried to think of something besides these
confusing feelings going on. “You talk to your father anymore?” Yeah, that was
a sore subject. That’d help my erection.
Which was because my
dick was neglected and not because I was gay.

“No.
You?”

“No.” Well, that was a great
conversation.

“I saw the shithead once,” he
said almost begrudgingly.

“Yeah?”
We eased up a
few feet. “How’d that go?”

“We hugged and squealed like
girls. How the fuck do you think it went?” He took another drag on the cigar,
sending white smoke into the air around him.

I was beginning to like Mayhem’s
conversation skills. He was always honest.

“I was on my
bike,
” Mayhem said. “This hover car pulls up
next to me, sort of close you know. And I was ready to yell at this
motherfucker and then I stared at the driver. His face was older, pale, and he
was staring at me with these big eyes like he was startled.” Mayhem put the
cigar between his lips.

“What happened?” We moved a few
more feet as the light turned red.

“He cried and apologized and
wanted to be best of friends.” Mayhem blew out smoke. “Think, Torrin. I’m his
failed attempt at an heir. He stared at me. I stared at him. When the light
turned
green,
we both drove away.”

“Not very
climactic,
” I muttered.

“You want climax?” Mayhem grabbed
his crotch. “I got something right here for that.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously.
I’m not looking at your ass. Or
your
junk.”

Mayhem didn’t answer, just kept
smoking his cigar. The light turned and we made our way from the heavy traffic
area down toward the clubhouse. Here it was quiet.
Nothing
but a smooth ride and bland scenery.
The parking lot was red and flat,
filled with three bikes, all in states of
much-needed
repair. The garage itself was a plain brown color, one story but with a high
roof. There were three doors and two of them were open, showing a few mechanics
working. Connected to that was a door that lead to the patch member quarters. I
didn’t have one of those yet. Prospect and I got to sleep on the couches in the
living room.
Lucky us.

“Put the truck in the garage and
then come
into
the
clubhouse
. I’ll get you a real drink,” Mayhem
said before he opened his door and got out.

I hit the
brakes,
but he was already out, balancing rather gracefully
considering his size. The truck fit perfectly behind the garage
door.
Because it was closed after I pulled in,
the light was dimmer. Shadows played off the walls when I got out. The other
mechanics were working on one bike, the frame a dark steel color and they all
worked to place the hover tech engine in. I frowned as
I
walked to the end of the truck, staring at the closed door that
hid the boxes. I should look. If it were
guns,
I’d be able to radio the peacekeepers and get them here. Guns would send them
all away, maybe they’d be the same that were used in the bombings,
then
they’d get at least twenty years on Earth. My hand drifted
over the flat handle. I paused, unable to move. Fuck. I dropped my hand. One
look and this whole undercover bullshit could be over. I tried to talk myself
into opening that door but whenever I touched it, doubt weighed heavily. What
if Mayhem was right? What if the peacekeepers weren’t the good guys? Have I
really been blind this whole time? I didn’t agree with all the
rules,
but I had always followed them.

“Lower it another inch.” One of
the mechanics was yelling, sweat beading
on
his forehead as they held the engine.

I moved back from the truck. One
step
then
the other until my back hit the
wall. I could always come back and check the contents out, I reasoned. Yeah,
that’s it. There wasn’t enough time now with the
guys
right there and Mayhem waiting. I nodded to no one in particular then walked
away from the boxes. It felt a lot more epic
than
it looked.

Mayhem was sitting at the club’s
private bar with two shot glasses and a
half-filled
bottle of amber-colored liquid. A puff of smoke swirled around his head. “Ever
drink alcohol before?”

I sat next to him. “
Haven’t had the pleasure
.” Also, illegal!

Mayhem twisted the top of the
bottle. He gave the contents a swirl and then filled both our glasses.
“Called whiskey.”
Mayhem then took a big inhale of his cigar
but before he exhaled he placed the glass to his lips and tilted it back. The
whiskey filled his mouth as smoke escaped. I was so busy watching him that I
completely forgot about my drink. Mayhem bared his teeth, hissing out a breath
then slapped his empty glass on the counter.
“Your turn.”

It was a drink. How hard could it
be? I took the glass between my fingers, sniffing and wincing. It smelled incredibly
strong. I placed it against my lips as Mayhem did and took the entire
swig
into my mouth. The taste hit me at once.
It was so strong that my face contorted and my eyes teared. I spun on the seat
and spewed the liquid onto the floor.
“Motherfucker.”
I held my tongue out of my mouth like a damn animal then started swallowing
profusely. “That’s disgusting.”

Mayhem chuckled, deep but
quietly.

My mouth had this burning
sensation going on as my taste buds rebelled. When I was sure nothing but the
whiskey was going to come out, I spun around to find our glasses filled again.
“You got to be kidding me. Why would I want to drink that again?”

“Fine, you
pussy.”
Mayhem slid my glass in front of him. “Go get yourself some juice from the bar
upstairs, you fucker.” He tossed back the drink, baring his teeth and slapping
the glass on the counter when it was empty.

Damn it. I did not want to look
like a coward in front of Mayhem. I grabbed the glass before he could take it
and slammed it back. The liquid burned as bad as the first time. I swallowed as
fast as I could. The scorch continued down my throat and warmed my stomach from
the inside.

Mayhem grunted his approval and
filled the glasses once more then capped the bottle. He held his out.
“To not being bitches.”

Hell
of a toast.
I
clinked
his glass with mine. I watched him drink it
first. The way his throat convulsed and how he smacked his lips together. I
followed, nearly coming undone as the liquid made its way into my throat. My
mouth was still ablaze and my taste buds seemed to be down for the count. I
couldn’t even taste the whiskey, only felt the sting.

“Are you getting our prospect
drunk?” Outlaw came down the stairs and stared at us. He had a few information
chips in his hands.

“Yup,
” Mayhem
confirmed then sucked on his cigar.

Outlaw rolled his eyes. The bags
under them seemed to have gotten worse the longer I knew him. The man was
strung out. Maybe it had something to do with his VP being in jail on Earth?
Did these guys worry about the other members? It seemed like some twisted form
of a family.

He walked past us as he talked.
“Unload the boxes. Stop drinking.”

Mayhem grunted, hopped off his seat,
and walked off. Smoke trailed him.

Unpack the boxes? I hesitated.
No, I had a job to do. Didn’t I? At the moment, I wasn’t too sure. There was a
pleasant buzz going on in my head as I followed Mayhem. Nothing serious just
this relaxed feeling spreading throughout my body. When we were in the garage,
I watched Mayhem open the truck doors and I hesitated. This was it. I would find
out what was in those boxes. This could possibly take the entire club down and
they might lead us to the other MC’s hiding from the government.

“Don’t stand
there,
shithead.” Mayhem tugged the box to the
edge of the floor. “Take this one to the bar upstairs. Don’t drop it.”

Then I tactfully blurted, “What’s
in it?”
Shit
.

Mayhem pulled the cigar from
between his lips.
“Plastic dicks for your ass.”

I didn’t know what to say to
that.

Mayhem laughed. “Ah, your
expression is priceless.” He pulled the other box out. “
It’s
new signs for the bar windows.”

“Oh.” I closed my mouth and
picked up the box. I didn’t speak again as we delivered the boxes.