SONS OF ANARCHY meets BREAKING BAD (...buy super gay)
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Young and naïve, Everett's preference for bad boys lands him under the protection of a handsome biker named Knox. When a dangerous new attraction blossoms, will the two live lo...
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❥ KNOX'S POV
A few hours shy of midnight, Knox eases himself out of bed.
He walks over to the closet and pulls out a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt. He dresses quietly and quickly, muscles flexing in the dim light as he threads his fingers through his hair to secure the messy strands in a bun atop his head. Going over to the dresser, he removes a ski mask and tucks it into his back pocket before taking out a pair of socks to wear.
A rush of affection surges through him when he glances back at the sleeping boy sprawled across his bed. Everett's chest rises and falls rhythmically, his features slack. Knox wants nothing more than to strip back down and return to Everett's side.
Unfortunately, a man has to die tonight.
While putting on his boots, Knox momentarily loses his balance and bumps his knee into the dresser. He curses under his breath when Everett stirs awake in response, one arm moving around in search of Knox.
"Go back to sleep, kitten. I'll be back in a minute."
"No... It's late as hell." Everett pouts while wiping the crust from his eyes. "Where are you running off to?" The question is murmured against his pillow, sleep still lingering in his tone. It amplifies the sexiness of Everett's voice, which Knox appreciates. "Come back to bed. Hate sleeping without you."
The words force Knox to face him. He walks over to the bed, a devilish smirk on his lips as his eyes roam over Everett's bruised and hickey-covered body. Knox's best orgasms came while he was buried balls-deep in Everett. Their bodies connected in a way that just made sense, almost as if God had specifically designed them for one another.
And even if He hadn't, Knox refused to let another man take his spot in Everett's life, and especially in Everett's bed.
"Got club business to handle. I'll try to get back as soon as I can, but I don't know how long it'll take."
Knox sits on the edge of the bed and gently drags a hand through Everett's messy curls, hoping to get rid of the lines of worry forming on his forehead. But it's too late. Everett's gaze hardens on Knox after he processes the words club business, then he sits up straight.
Knox sighs. "Stop. I don't want to fight."
"Then tell me what exactly it is that you're about to go do this late at night and we'll be good."
"Everett, you know I can't tell you shit."
"Goddamn it, Knox..." The sharp edge of Everett's words feels like a slap to the face.
There are many things Knox can say to wipe the frown off Everett's face. So many confessions hang on the tip of his tongue, but selfishly, he keeps them all to himself and surrenders to the silence.
