Messy [MxM]

Chapter 2: Beautiful

Dakota knew he was being reckless. He didn't know Tyler, and though he went ahead and used his phone to check him out on FetNet during the drive, it didn't actually matter how many mutual friends a person had or how many people had posted on their wall. They could still be an abuser. Ian had plenty of friends, after all.

Fuck, Dakota couldn't wait for Tyler to fuck Ian out of him. The peace would at least last the night if Tyler was good.

Please be good...

"So are you single?" Dakota mainly asked to hear Tyler's voice again. It was just the right balance of smooth and gritty, and his tone never wavered. He was a Dominant through and through, and the edgy, broken parts of Dakota longed to be rubbed smooth in his hands.

Just for tonight, though. So hopefully Tyler wasn't too good.

"Yeah, I'm single," Tyler said.

With Tyler's gaze on the road, Dakota took the opportunity to get an eyeful of him. He was gorgeous, really, with chin-length dark hair and high cheekbones. Dakota had learned earlier tonight how sharp his dark eyes were. He was calm and collected on the outside, but a storm lurked in those eyes, thrashing beneath the surface.

How much of the storm would Dakota get to see tonight?

"How long have you been single?" Dakota asked.

Tyler gave him a cool sideways glance in lieu of an answer.

"Sorry. You can punish me for prying."

"When I hit you, it won't be a punishment, Dakota."

Dakota bit his lip, and a small sound escaped him. Tyler's words were like candies to suck on, and Dakota wanted a whole bag.

"Will you talk to me while you fuck me?" he asked.

A crooked smile tilted Tyler's lips. "Sure."

The Bad Boys of Kink house stood at three stories tall with a columned porch on one side and two big trees obscuring the other. Porch lights illuminated a brick exterior, though the top half looked to be siding.

The house was huge and gorgeous, and jealousy brewed in Dakota's chest. He was currently sleeping on his friend Josie's couch in her no-frills studio apartment. Every night, he had to listen to her snoring, and every morning, he had to wake to her shrieking alarm. The worst part was that he couldn't even complain about those things; if it weren't for Josie, he'd have nowhere to go. He'd probably still be with Ian, wondering when the so-called love of his life would next decide to jump the line between kinky and abusive.

As Dakota got out of Tyler's truck, he pulled at his hair. His stupid brain, his stupid brain—why couldn't he just stop thinking about it?

"I need this so bad, Tyler." Dakota wished he could control his mouth, but it had never been his strong suit.

Tyler hooked a duffel bag over his shoulder and locked the truck. "I can tell. Come on."

Dakota followed him from the cement driveway, up the steps, and onto the porch. They entered through that side entrance, and Tyler led Dakota past an empty seating area and to another door.

Tyler fingered a little red bell attached to the door knob. "Dammit. Playroom's in use."

When Dakota strained his ears, he could just make out some anguished moaning and a lower sound that could have been a Dom barking an order.

Tension poured from Tyler. "I didn't want to take you to my bedroom, but Ángel doesn't like it when we use his space."

Dakota slid a gentle hand onto Tyler's sturdy shoulder. "What do you mean?" Tyler was so hot—tall and strong. A man. It was obvious his clothes were cheap, just a basic black tee and well-worn jeans, but they fit him well. Dakota let his hand trail down Tyler's back, resisting the urge to grab his ass.