Swallowing Mayhem Read Free Page B

each
other.
    “Aye, you know t’at saying.” Harley smiled wide and easy.
    Mayhem grunted. “Happiness is a hand job, but bliss is a blowjob.”
    Harley chuckled. “’ ell fooking yea.”
    I slowly made my way back out to
our vehicle. It was a matter of balance. I placed the boxes on the ground,
opened the back of the truck, and then put our cargo in. It took me a moment to
decide. Should I have a peek? My proof could be in there. Explosives? Guns? Illegal items that would be
proof of the MC’s involvement? I was staring at the boxes when Harley’s
front door closed. I quickly shoved the back door shut, securing our cargo, and
then came around to watch Mayhem walk toward me. He’d lost the cigar. His black
hair had a few wisps free and falling to caress his face. His muscles bunched
as he moved closer. Damn it, why the fuck was I still staring at him? I turned
away and hopped into the driver’s side. Even if I didn’t hear the door, I could see tell Mayhem was in. The cinnamon,
woodsy cigar smell permeated from his clothes. I inhaled deeply, starting the truck up and then got us the hell
out of there.

Chapter Three
     
    We were sitting in traffic again.
Wasn’t that a bitch. Traffic on
Mars. Well, we hit the streets at the wrong time. Everyone was coming
home from work so we sat hovering over the ground waiting for the sorry excuse
for a driver in front of us to move. The awkward silence was getting to me.
Mayhem was sitting there, smoking his cigar behind tinted windows. The smell in
the truck was growing, taking on a life of its own until I was constantly
breathing in the scent that was Mayhem. Damn it. That sounded way too
homosexual. I cleared my throat and tried to think of something besides these
confusing feelings going on. “You talk to your father anymore?” Yeah, that was
a sore subject. That’d help my erection. Which was because my
dick was neglected and not because I was gay.
    “No. You?”
    “No.” Well, that was a great
conversation.
    “I saw the shithead once,” he
said almost begrudgingly.
    “Yeah?” We eased up a
few feet. “How’d that go?”
    “We hugged and squealed like
girls. How the fuck do you think it went?” He took another drag on the cigar,
sending white smoke into the air around him.
    I was beginning to like Mayhem’s
conversation skills. He was always honest.
    “I was on my bike, ” Mayhem said. “This hover car pulls up
next to me, sort of close you know. And I was ready to yell at this
motherfucker and then I stared at the driver. His face was older, pale, and he
was staring at me with these big eyes like he was startled.” Mayhem put the
cigar between his lips.
    “What happened?” We moved a few
more feet as the light turned red.
    “He cried and apologized and
wanted to be best of friends.” Mayhem blew out smoke. “Think, Torrin. I’m his
failed attempt at an heir. He stared at me. I stared at him. When the light
turned green, we both drove away.”
    “Not very climactic, ” I muttered.
    “You want climax?” Mayhem grabbed
his crotch. “I got something right here for that.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Seriously. I’m not looking at your ass. Or your junk.”
    Mayhem didn’t answer, just kept
smoking his cigar. The light turned and we made our way from the heavy traffic
area down toward the clubhouse. Here it was quiet. Nothing
but a smooth ride and bland scenery. The parking lot was red and flat,
filled with three bikes, all in states of much-needed repair. The garage itself was a plain brown color, one story but with a high
roof. There were three doors and two of them were open, showing a few mechanics
working. Connected to that was a door that lead to the patch member quarters. I
didn’t have one of those yet. Prospect and I got to sleep on the couches in the
living room. Lucky us.
    “Put the truck in the garage and
then come into the clubhouse . I’ll get you a real drink,” Mayhem
said before he opened his door and got out.
    I hit the brakes,