My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

Cogs finally moved in Elliot’s head. Of course. He wouldn’t be staying with Knight. What had he been thinking? He licked his lips. “This… is nice.”

Knight dumped the backpack on the bed and approached a radiator, which he must have only now switched on, because the room was quite cool, even if much less so than Elliot’s trailer. “Raise the temperature if you want. It works perfectly. I did all the wiring here myself.”

“And I’m allowed to go to that kitchen and main room, and all that?” Elliot just needed the green light and he’d be feasting tonight.

Knight sat on the bed and leaned back, supporting himself with his elbows. The position made his body stretch and uncovered a little bit of that tempting line between the hem of his T-shirt and his belt. “Sure. Just leave when someone asks you to. If anyone approaches you, just tell them you’re with me and that Beast knows.”

Elliot nodded and sat next to Knight, still confused by how this whole day had gone. He’d recorded a video, he almost died but was saved, he ate some first-class dick, and now he was getting a new place and free food. Fuck knew what tomorrow would bring.

He sensed the heat of Knight’s thigh against his own and looked down at him, eager to touch the dark hair spilling all over his handsome face. Elliot’s heart thumped faster as he leaned down to kiss the man who’d saved him from certain death. Maybe they wouldn’t sleep together but at least they could fool around some more before Knight left to get back to his life. The hand pushing back at his chest was a cold shower that left Elliot not only flushing with embarrassment but also deeply disappointed. And the worst thing was that he couldn’t express any of those emotions.

“Huh?” Elliot raised his eyebrows, unsure of what he’d done wrong. Hadn’t Knight suggested they’d have sex again?

Knight tapped Elliot’s chest. “I don’t kiss guys.”

Elliot just stared. “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.” So not cool. He sat back with a sigh and rested his head against the wall.

Knight’s body twisted, and he stood up, swatting Elliot’s back on the way. “Gonna do some work now, but I’ll give you the tour later.”

Elliot smiled and nodded. The last thing he wanted was to put Knight off spending time with him. When Knight was gone, though, Elliot repeatedly hit the back of his head against the wall.

“Fuck my life,” he whispered to himself and hid his face in his hands.

Chapter 8

There were days when Knight loved his new position within the club. Regardless of the more annoying set of responsibilities, he enjoyed talking to people over the phone, and negotiating good terms for the club gave him a sense of pride. Today however, his excitement lay someplace else, and going through notes left for him by Fox had been a tedious process when all he could think of was the prospect of showing The Count just how little he knew about Fane and the history of the land around Brecon. He kept getting distracted as he wondered what things he ought to show to Elliot and in what sequence. There were obviously spots associated with Fane but also random things of interest, like the antique ornamental monkey in the billiard room, which used to be a glorified bell for summoning servants. With a house like this one, with so much history and mystery soaked into its walls, there was more than enough material for several tours. And for once Knight would be doing it with someone who was actually interested, even if prejudiced.

Holding the silly leather shoes and the cane Elliot must had left behind on the night of the party, Knight knocked on his door.

“Come in!” Elliot yelled.

Knight stepped into the guest bedroom and spotted Elliot at the desk, sitting in a chair he must have dragged in from somewhere else. Unable to fit his long legs under the desktop, Elliot held them sideways, but once Knight’s gaze trailed north, he could only huff with annoyance. Elliot was wearing a silvery wig and was patting a piece of sponge against his forehead, covering his entire face with white foundation.

“Why?” Knight asked, spreading his arms in a helpless gesture.

Elliot looked back at him, and his big dark eyes stood out within the background of the powdery face like two coals. “I need to make a good impression. And I will be filming too. Can’t have my viewers seeing me out of character.”

Knight groaned and tossed the shoes and cane on the bed. “I just don’t get it. You have a nice face. Why cover it with all that plaster?”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “My face is so ordinary. Besides, people expect to see The Count when they tune in.” He walked up to the bed and grabbed the cane. He looked at it and lovingly stroked the smooth wood. “It’s a replica of Fane’s.”