On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

Gray slowly turned to face Jake. Under the scrutiny of his pale eyes, Jake suddenly felt self-conscious. “I feel the same. My dad’s a member, and so was my brother. I might not have joined if he hadn’t pushed me to it. Now he’s dead, and the club’s my family. I won’t lose any of you if I can help it. Sometimes, that means hard choices. You will understand once you’re patched in.”

Strangely enough, this talk helped Jake realize that he indeed was ready. Something had changed with Vars’s arrival. Not just in the last two weeks when all thoughts of cocks other than Vars’s abandoned him, but even before that. The prospect of becoming a patch was finally becoming real. Something that used to be a far-off idea, Vars treated as an obvious consequence, and one that would happen soon. In turn, Jake had been confronted with it too.

But there was another topic poking at Jake’s mind since the one time he and Gray had hooked up. “Gray… I mean this with no disrespect, but is being a patch why you don’t really look for partners? ‘Cause it would be difficult?”

Gray chewed his food more times than necessary before looking at Jake again. “What has being a patch have to do with choosing partners? Being a patch makes things easier. I think you’re trying to tell me something, but I don’t get it.”

Jake couldn’t stand Gray’s inquisitive eyes, so he stared at his plate. “When you’re a patch, respect is everything, and you need to make sure you command it. I’ve seen the guys deal with people who thought they can get away with saying shit to them, and I’ve even done that myself at times, since being a prospect is already an honor, but what if— It’s why I never slept with hangarounds, because things can get messy. What I’m trying to ask is… how would it be if I didn’t want to take advantage of being a patch? Even now, guys and girls hit on me because they have certain expectations. You know what I mean?”

Gray frowned. “What? No. I’m rarely attracted to people, that’s all. If I wanted a hangaround, why wouldn’t I make a move on them?”

Jake’s patience ran out. He needed to say the words, and he hated it already. “How would they respect me if I wanted them to fuck me? You get me? Fuck. Me.”

Gray watched him for several seconds, then let out a tired sigh and finished his cake. “Are you saying that you being a bottom would reflect badly on the club? Is that it?”

“I know there’s technically nothing wrong with it, but it becomes different when the club is involved. Shouldn’t I want to command respect, have other guys at my beck and call?” Saying it all out loud had the cake rising in Jake’s throat, and he almost regretted eating it. Almost, because it was so fucking good.

“Are you saying that I don’t command respect?”

With his cool and collected attitude, Gray actually commanded respect more than Joker with his bulging muscles and crazy hair. “N-no. You do.”

Gray shrugged. “Jake, I’m a bottom, and I don’t advertise it only because most times I don’t want anyone in my bed. You have a right to the kind of sex you want. That’s one of the things this club stands for. If someone bothers you about it, just stick to your guns. There’s only so long the same dumb jokes can fly, especially if you don’t get defensive.”

Jake stared, but then smiled with relief flushing through his whole body. “That’s why we wouldn’t work.” He’d had his suspicions about Gray, but now that they were confirmed it felt so obvious we wanted to smack himself for not seeing it before. “What I wanna say is… wow. Thanks, Gray. Thanks for taking the time with me. I think I really needed to hear this from someone like you.”

A small smile touched Gray’s mouth. “How’s that secret affair going?”

The blood that flooded Jake’s face could have filled a bucket. “I… wha—huh?” He made the most innocent eyes, but a part of him knew his game was lost. Gray looked at him with absolute certainty.

“You know, the one that’s keeping you from attending our training sessions.”

Jake groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t know where it’s going yet, and I don’t want it to get weird.”

“He seems like an okay guy, and you’ve been happier lately.”

Jake bit his lips, torn between keeping up the charade and blurting out to Gray that Vars was the best thing ever. He settled on, “It’s all very fresh, but he’s… like no one I’ve ever met.”

“That’s good. You deserve it,” Gray said, watching the party with a somewhat melancholic gaze. No one paid attention to them, as if they were sitting behind a Venetian mirror. It only then struck Jake that this was the way Gray spent most club events. Was this odd isolation what he always felt?