BETTER THAN GOOD
Cade Creek 6
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Harvey James was as bad-ass as they came. A former
enforcer for biker gang, he now owns the Rusty Nail Bar and Grill. He has firm
rules about the kinds of people he allows into his bar. So, when several of
members of his former gang show up, he’s wary. His apprehension turns to outrage
when he’s offered a beaten down man in exchange for free drinks on the house.
Knowing he needs to rescue the young man, he accepts the deal, starting a series
of events that tests his strength and strips him of his fine-honed control.
Because Joey Baker isn’t just a man to be bartered, he’s a man Harvey wants to
keep.
The last year of Joey’s life has been pure hell.
Kidnapped and held captive by a man that derives pleasure out of torturing
others, he finds himself being traded for a round of drinks. Rendered unable to
speak due to the abuse he has suffered, Joey has no way to protest or ask for
help, so when it comes, Joey doesn’t trust the help that is offered, or the man
that offers it.
When Harvey and Joey are faced with an impossible
situation, finding common ground may prove to be harder than they thought. The
lack of communication combined with the growing desire between them adds tension
to an already dangerous situation. When the man that took Joey comes back for
him, learning to trust each other may be the only way to save them
both.
STORY
EXCERPT
“On your knees, you stupid bitch!”
Harvey James’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as
he scanned the crowd for the person belonging to that voice. He knew that voice
and it meant nothing but trouble. He had spent a lot of time and money making
sure the Rusty Nail Bar and Grill was a place for people to relax, not get
drunk. He refused to allow riff raff into the place.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Harvey’s teeth
grind together, a fine line of rage riding along the edge of his nerves. He
allowed people to be abused in his tavern even less than he allowed the idiots
that got too drunk to be respectful of others.
Harvey wove his way through the dancers on the floor in
the middle of the bar, his instincts drawing him to the far corner of the main
floor. Someone had dimmed the lights in that corner or broken them. The shadows
surrounding the area weren’t supposed to be that dark.
Reaching the edge of the dance floor, he wanted to
growl…or punch something. If he had known that the Dirty Dozen had somehow made
their way inside his tavern, he would have taken a match to the place and burned
it to the ground—preferably with them in it.
There weren’t many people in the world that Harvey hated,
but there was a reason that he had left the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club. Besides
the fact that he didn’t like the power plays going on between those coming up in
the ranks, he despised the man that was at the top of the pile looking to be top
dog.
Razor Malone was an idiot, plain and simple. The man had
not a single brain cell in his head and a shit ton of muscles to back it up. He
used his strength to get what he wanted, which was pretty much anything anyone
else had, and he didn’t care who he had to hurt to get it. Why he had been
allowed into the motorcycle club would forever be a mystery. The man needed to
be put behind bars, or in a psych ward. He was nuts.
And who in the hell named themselves Razor, anyway? Life was not a B-rated
biker flick.
Harvey stopped a few feet from the tables in the corner.
His eyes flickered to the man kneeling on the floor for a brief second before
going back to the asshole holding him there by a handful of hair.
It was easy to see that the guy on the floor was in pain,
and no doubt terrified. His big hazel eyes dominated his pale face as they
silently screamed in anguish. Not a sound passed his lips, almost as if he knew
it would do him no good.
“Well, well, well,” the man in the chair mused. “If it
isn’t Harvey James.”
Harvey crossed his arms. “Razor.”
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“I do own the place, Razor.” And the calculating look in
Razor’s eyes said that he knew that.
“You don’t say.” A sly grin crossed the man’s lips.
Harvey tilted his head. “What do you want,
Razor?”
“Well, seeing how we’re old buddies and such, how about
free drinks on the house?”
“No.” And more than that, hell no!
“One round of drinks, then, for old time’s
sake.”
“No.”
When Razor went to stand, the fingers he had tangled in
hair pulled, making the man on the floor whimper in obvious pain. The sound
seemed to remind Razor that the man was there, as if he could forget he was
abusing someone.
“I’ll tell you what, you give us a round of drinks on the
house and I’ll let my bitch suck your dick.” Razor yanked hard and the small
dark haired man fell against him before scrambling back into his kneeling
position. His entire body shook as if he thought he had just committed on
offense that would get him punished.
He probably had. Razor always liked keeping his pets in
fear of him by way of his fists. The bruising Harvey saw on the small man’s arms
and neck attested to the fact that he had been punished more than
once.
If Harvey’s teeth ground together any harder, they’d
shatter.
“No.” Harvey refused to add to the man’s
punishment.
Razor licked his lips, giving Harvey the impression that
the man was jonesing for some alcohol, which was odd considering he was sitting
in a bar. Harvey started to get a nagging suspicion that Razor and his buddies
were broke.
Yippee. Harvey could kick them all out.
“One round of drinks and I’ll let you have his
ass.”
“I won’t take your leavings, Razor,” Harvey said in the
calmest voice possible considering he was about to reach out and wrap his
fingers around the moron’s throat. “I didn’t when I was part of the Dirty Dozen
and I sure as hell won’t now.”
“I ain’t fucked him.”
Ignoring the overwhelming urge to beat Razor’s face in,
Harvey’s eyes dropped to the man on the floor. How was that even possible? Razor
fucked anything with a pulse, and Harvey suspected a few things without a pulse.
How could he have this man as his pet and not fuck him?
Granted, the guy was young but Harvey doubted that had stopped Razor before.
Again, not something he could prove, just a feeling he had. But at least the kid
looked legal, barely.
But beneath his bruises, he was also gorgeous. He had big
hazel doe-like eyes that reminded Harvey of someone that was young and innocent
and terrified to be pushed out into the big wide world. He looked like he didn’t
understand why he was being knocked around by Razor, almost as if he couldn’t
conceive of that type of brutality.
“How long has he been yours?”
Razor shrugged and glanced away but not before Harvey saw
the calculating glint come back into the man’s eyes. “A couple of
months.”
“And you haven’t fucked him?”
“Naw, man, you know I only fuck pussy.” Razor was lying
through his teeth…both of them. Harvey had seen Razor fuck men before, but he
only did it when he thought no one else was paying attention.
Being gay in a motorcycle club was kind of like signing
your own death warrant. The only reason Harvey had survived was because he
didn’t advertise that he liked men and he had the muscle to beat the shit out of
anyone that hassled him.
“One round of drinks for one hour with your boy.” Harvey
couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. His only excuse
was the need to get the kid somewhere and make sure he wasn’t being held captive
by Razor. He wouldn’t put it past the asshole.
“Done.”
ADULT
EXCERPT
Harvey groaned as a silky hot suction surrounded his
dick. He flexed his hips, driving his cock further into the warm heat. God, when
was the last time he had felt something so damn good? His fingers curled into
the sheets as he thrust his hips forward until the head of his dick brushed
against the back of someone’s throat. The suction grew stronger, a tongue
swiping along his rigid length.
“Close, so close.” Harvey was riding the edge of an
orgasm. He just needed a little more to toss him over into the abyss. Harvey
reached down and curled his fingers into the hair of the man sucking him off,
not in the least bit surprised that the man looked like Joey in his
fantasy.
Joey had been starring in every one of his sexual
fantasies for the last week. Like an untried school boy, Harvey had woken more
than once with the results of his dreams splattered all over his chest. It
seemed this time would be no different, especially since Harvey had long stopped
trying to fight the dreams and just gave in to them.
When the suction on his dick moved down his entire
length, Harvey stiffened, knowing where this was going to go. He held his
breath, waiting, aching. When the fingers caressing his balls moved further
back, one lone finger breaching his ass, Harvey cried out and filled that sweet
mouth with spurt after spurt of his release.
When fantasy slowly became reality, Harvey drew in a deep
breath and opened his eyes. He really needed to stop fantasizing about Joey and
maybe find someone to get laid. He was supposed to be protecting the guy, not
turning him into a sex object.
He just couldn’t seem to help it.
The doctors had wanted to keep Joey
for observation when they went to the hospital. Joey would have none of it. He
struggled and whimpered, big fat tears sliding down his face until Harvey
intervened and said Joey could stay with him. Now, a week later he had the
sweetest, sexiest man on the planet sleeping on his couch.
Well, most of the time. When Joey’s nightmares
started—which they usually did every night—Joey ended up in bed with Harvey,
sprawled across his chest. It seemed to be Joey’s new favorite place, and Harvey
didn’t mind all that much. He liked holding the little slip of a man in his
arms.
It was just too bad he couldn’t keep Joey.
He blew out a deep breath as he opened his eyes and—“What
the fuck?”
Harvey’s heart pounded away at a ferocious pace as he
scrambled back across the mattress from the man kneeling between his thighs—the
very naked man. Sweet hell, he was really, really naked.
“Joey, what in the hell are you doing?”
Big hazel doe-like eyes blinked up at Harvey from the end
of the bed. Sweet mother of mercy, was that a drop of cum on Joey’s
chin?
Harvey groaned, partly due the fact that he realized his
fantasy hadn’t been a fantasy at all, and partly because he really liked seeing
his cum on Joey’s face. There was something primal about marking the man. The
urge to cum all over Joey was so strong, Harvey had to curl his fingers into the
blankets to keep from reaching for the man.
“Baby.” Harvey rubbed his hand up over his bald head.
“You can’t—” Surprise sent Harvey’s eyebrows up to the top of his head when Joey
reached up and held his finger to his lips in the universal sign for silence.
Joey was pure seduction as he crawled up the mattress
from the end of the bed and pulled the sheet away. He might have just come but
by the time Joey straddled his thighs, Harvey was hard as a rock.
The feel of Joey’s soft skin brushing against his dick
was almost more than Harvey could handle. He sucked in a hard breath as his
hands slid over Joey’s thighs, holding the man still. If Joey moved an inch, it
would be all over—for both of them.
“Joey, baby,” Harvey groaned. “You don’t know
what—”
Harvey couldn’t do anything but shudder when he felt
Joey’s lips press against his. He ached for the man and had almost from the
first moment he set eyes on him. He had been fighting his desires for days. It
was becoming a constant struggle, one he was pretty sure he was
losing.
“Joey, you don’t know what you’re doing.” There was no
way he could know, not unless his intention was to get thrown down on the
mattress and ravished until he couldn’t sit or walk. And Harvey was a hair’s
breath away from doing just that.
“Baby—oh god!” Harvey’s eyes nearly rolled back in his
head when Joey leaned forward and licked a line up his collarbone. The feel of
Joey’s tongue on his skin made Harvey’s entire body shudder and pulse.
“Please, please tell me you know what you are doing.”
Harvey was so not above begging right now. Even though he knew this was a
really, really bad idea, he didn’t
think he could stop from taking what Joey seemed to be offering, not when he
wanted it so damn bad.
When Joey’s hands smoothed up his chest, Harvey grabbed
the man and rolled him beneath his larger body, wedging his leg between Joey’s
thighs. He searched Joey’s eyes for any sign of fear or reservation. If there
had been a single glimmer, Harvey wouldn’t have asked his next
question.
“Are you sure, Joey?”
