“But it’s no charity run, boy. Nothing in this life is free, understood? I don’t believe there’s any money at the end of this imaginary rainbow you’re creating, but I see something else I like.” Tank’s gaze darkened as it slipped from Clover’s face and down his body.
The air between them became hotter, and Clover’s throat dried out as if he’d inhaled fire.
Was it hella shady? It was. Could it work? Absolutely.
“Just you?” he whispered, unable to comprehend the scope of what this conversation implied. Would he get to have this beefcake and eat it too?
Tank’s smile widened, becoming predatory. “We’ll see what the other guys say when I’m done with you.”
Clover took a deep breath, letting his gaze wander over the thick arms, which surely had enough power to twist the neck of a bull. He was salivating already.
In the face of Clover’s silence, Tank leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Your choice. We could escort you to the nearest police station for free. Or we take you to New York, but until we get there, you’re ours.”
Clover’s heart fluttered for all the wrong reasons. Tank’s offer was wrong on so many levels, but Clover didn’t trust the police. The fact that Tank was actually posing the offer as a choice inspired some trust. They were alone in the middle of nowhere. So if Tank wanted to force things, he could have. But he didn’t. He might not be a good guy, but he was honest.
Clover’s lips were too dry to speak, but he was hypnotized by the intensity in Tank’s dark eyes, so he leaned forward and left a gentle kiss on Tank’s stubbly chin as his answer.
Tank’s eyes were like hot chocolate, inviting Clover closer. But before he could have moved, Tank stood and approached the bed with slow, deliberate steps. “How’s it gonna be, boy? Wanna give it a trial run?”
Tank took off his T-shirt while asking the question, and the reveal made thinking much harder than usual. His chest was an artwork made of muscle, ink, and scars. Clover had a preference for big guys, but he’d never been with a man Tank’s size. He could already imagine all the ways in which Tank could twist and turn him in bed.
“Are you asking for a sample, or an advance?” Clover laughed nervously, surprised by how flustered this situation was already making him.
“What do you want it to be?” Tank asked, stopping when his crotch was in front of Clover’s face. The air became too hot, and the whiff of arousal beckoned Clover to seek out more.
“Uncuff me?” Clover asked, shaking the hand that remained cuffed to his leg, but Tank chuckled and stepped back, taking away the arousing scent he carried. Before Clover could have begged him to stay, he unbuckled a satchel at his belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Clover sighed, deflated. “Not gonna happen?” He should have been worried, but right now Tank didn’t scare him, no matter how big he was. Judging by the front of his jeans, Tank didn’t have malicious intentions. Only horny ones.
“Not until we’re done. Can’t have that pesky hand doing something it shouldn’t. You need to get yourself acquainted with my dick first,” Tank said, and swiftly attached Clover’s other hand to the chain already binding him.
Clover looked up Tank’s body with a deep breath, excited by being helpless with this strong, competent man. Tank wanted him a lot, and he’d wanted him from the moment they’d met. Clover could now see it now. It was why Tank had chosen to carry him, and keep his arm over Clover’s shoulders.
Staying with him until they reached New York would hardly be a chore.
With the warmth of arousal already curling in his stomach, Clover leaned forward and nuzzled at Tank’s zipper.
Tank hummed and patted Clover’s head before taking off Clover’s glasses and gently placing them on the bedside table. “How about you open your mouth so I can see where I’m gonna put it?” he teased, opening his belt with the other hand.
The hairs on Clover’s arms bristled, his heart already drumming, and he couldn’t even blink when he opened his mouth wide and let his tongue out in invitation. He wanted to see Tank’s cock as soon as possible. He now regretted being cuffed, not because he wanted to run, but because he wanted to pull down Tank’s zipper. But he could always do that with his teeth.
Tank’s size didn’t frighten him anymore. As long as this man wanted Clover, he’d be safe.
The massive hand slipped to the back of Clover’s head, holding him in place while Tank rubbed two of his fingers up and down his tongue. “Nice and warm. I’m gonna enjoy this. We’re gonna enjoy this,” he said, and while Clover didn’t know whether Tank meant the two of them or the four mercenaries, the moment Tank opened his zipper, it no longer mattered. His mouth longed for the weight and taste of this man’s cock.