Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

Each fast heartbeat pumped hot blood into his aching skull, making moments feel like forever, but the sun hadn’t moved much by the time the chain clinked, and Dane’s form loomed in the corner of Jag’s eye.

Jag rubbed his face and looked up in trepidation, awaiting another blow to his heart yet ready to pretend it didn’t happen. “Are you hungry? We could go hunting,” he proposed, since Dane enjoyed learning how to use the bow and arrow.

Oh, how magnificent he was with his hair and short beard shining in the sunlight like the two halves of a black-and-white symbol hanging on the wall of Frank’s home. How powerful was his body under all the colorful pictures, how shiny his mismatched eyes—

“Pretending that conversation didn’t happen won’t get us anywhere,” Dane said stiffly.

Jag had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from shedding tears at that comment. “Don’t do this to me. I got you books, like you asked.”

“That’s not how it works. You want to keep me? You want to fuck me? Let’s settle this now that I’m healed. Hunt me down. And if you don’t want to, just let me go!”

Jag’s heart stopped, only to gallop toward the finish line in Dane’s chest. He looked up into Dane’s handsome face, uncertain whether he understood. “Hunt you?” Just the thought of it made Jag’s blood pound faster as he imagined himself knocking Dane down, finally allowed to claim his body.

Dane’s face was serious as he steadied himself and nodded. “Hunt me.”

Chapter 9 – Dane

The collar wasn’t so heavy, but as long as it remained on Dane’s neck, its weight would be enough to make him curl his shoulders, lower his head, and feel entrapped. Taking it off always let him breathe more freely, but when Jag removed it for their race to the border of the junkyard, it felt like having lead shoes taken off.

The afternoon sun shone straight at him, but while he wasn’t sure where this place was in relation to local towns or people’s houses, he’d surely find out once he climbed one of the higher mounds. Not just because he even a place as massive as this one needed a perimeter fence, but also because Jag was adamant to never let him hike too far up.

As wild and erratic as Jag acted sometimes, he was also fair in his own way, and the moment Dane would have reached the borders of the junkyard, he’d be free. He did agree to be claimed by Jag if that didn’t happen, and now that the unwritten contract had been made, uncertainty was creeping up his back like a slug.

The glint in Jag’s eyes when they’d agreed on the stakes was as frightening as it was exciting. Dane would be lying if he said he didn’t fantasize about Jag on top of him, pulling his hair and giving him a rough fuck as he sniffed the crook of Dane’s neck, but the purpose of this whole charade was for him to regain his freedom at last. He hoped this hunt idea wasn’t his own attempt at self-sabotage that he wasn’t even realizing. After all, he couldn’t blame himself for being in this position, away from his family and responsibilities if Jag forced him to stay.

But despite Jag having the advantage of familiarity with the area, Dane believed himself capable of winning against him. He jogged on a regular basis, was healthy and strong despite carrying some extra padding. Once he knew the shortest way to the perimeter fence, nothing would stop him from knocking on Mom and Dad’s door later tonight. Even the hot caveman who’d agreed to give him a ten-minute head start.

The junkyard was like some desolated planet where space barbarians took stranded travelers as sex pets. As hot as that idea was on paper, Dane was a man of the real world and needed to escape his captivity.

He’d been teased about his weight in the past but was more than aware that people like him had their admirers. The level of obsessive worship Jag had for him though, was unexpectedly welcome. Too bad it came with chains and collars.

At times, it was easy to forget the violent possessiveness that underlined all their interactions, because being with Jag was fun. Dane hadn’t been online for over two weeks, and while he felt anxious about it at times, he was too busy rebuilding the house with Jag to worry. Their home itself was a giant Jenga to endlessly entertain his mind, and working on it together brought him close to Jag in ways Dane had never experienced with another man.

And to top it off, there was a lot of pleasure to be had once the chores were over. Jag’s cock was always hard, and he could usually climax more than once, a horny beast eager to please and take what he was owed. When they rested together, under the furs that Jag had sewn together from the many critters he’d hunted down over the years, Dane could almost forget about the life he’d left behind and focus only on the dick pressing against his ass, and the strong arm wrapped around his chest.