The Virgin Next Door by Stasia Black

16

MACK

Mack clutched his head.“Jesus, can you turn down the music?”

Xavier just swung his head to look at Mack, then his eyes were back on the road. He didn’t say a thing, just reached a hand over and turned up the volume on the blaring country station.

“What the fu—”

“Watch your tone in my truck,” Xavier said low, eyes cutting briefly back to Mack. “I had half a mind to leave your ass back in Denver. The one thing I asked was that none of you embarrass me or the horse rescue. You think I named the rescue after my wife so my employees could start a fucking bar brawl at last call? Or that I came all the way down here just so I could get up at two in the goddamned morning to smooth things over so you didn’t end up with another strike on your record? You trying to make me sorry for taking a chance on your ass?”

Throughout Xavier’s tirade, Mack’s head sunk lower and lower. This must be what it felt like to get chewed out by a father. The way the pain in his head spiked with every angry syllable, he was actually glad he’d never had a dad. He hated feeling like an errant fucking schoolboy. Then again, he’d fucked up last night. He knew he deserved this and far worse. Plenty of folks woulda cut his ass loose after the shit he’d pulled last night.

“No,” Mack said quickly. “No sir. You know I appreciate everything you and Mel have done for me—”

“Do you?” Xavier cut in, hard eyes glaring at him again. “‘Cause you sure got a funny way of showing it.”

Mack swallowed and looked out the passenger seat window. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better fuckin’ not,” Xavier muttered. Then his hand moved to the dial for the music again. He turned the volume up even louder.

Mack groaned and slumped further down in his seat.

* * *

That dayand the next were not fun ones for Mack. Xavier had let up on the radio, turning it off an hour outside of Denver when the signal started failing. Too bad the raging headache Mack was sporting had grown to epic proportions during the hour-long high-volume blast.

And he’d swear, every time his hand went to his aching forehead, Xavier smirked.

Suffice it to say, it was a long six and a half hours.

Then when they’d gotten back to the ranch, he was supposed to start training his mustang. Right away. From the second the horse stepped out of their trailer into one of the round pens.

After a year and a half on the ranch, Mack wasn’t clueless about what needed to be done. He’d watched Xavier break two mustangs the previous year.

But after almost seven hours in the cramped cab of the truck, paired with the worst hangover he’d swear he’d ever had in his life, all that training flew out the window.

Patience. That was what Xavier always instructed them when dealing with a new horse, wild mustang or not. You had to listen to the horse. That’s what he was always saying. Listen to the horse. They’ll speak loud and clear if you let them.

Well all Mack heard when he finally got Torpedo to step out of the damn trailer was a whole lotta pissed off horse. Didn’t seem like Torpedo had enjoyed the ride any better than Mack. He was twitchy, nervous, wouldn’t stand still long enough for Mack to even put his hand near him, much less to touch him.

Meanwhile, in the circular paddock in the distance, he saw Calla up and riding her horse. The first day. Riding. What the fuck type of juju magic did that woman have?

She’d certainly had him under her spell. When he wasn’t cursing his killer hangover, the night he’d shared with Calla and Liam kept coming back to him on endless loop.

The look on her face when he breached that tight little pussy of hers—Christ, there hadn’t been an ounce of fear on her face. How the fuck was he supposed to have guessed she was a virgin?

And then you just fucking left her there.

He cringed every time he thought of how he’d stormed out of there like the world’s biggest asshole.

He felt the shame of it even as he slammed the hotel door behind him and all but ran down the hall. He did shot after shot at the bar in an effort not to feel it. Not to feel anything. And when that dumb redneck got up in his face near closing, well, it was the perfect opportunity to take out some of his fury. Punching the bastard in the face did feel good. At least until two of the guy’s buddies joined in and Mack was dodging fists from all sides. He could have handled three guys back when he was at his prime. But three years of working with his hands instead of his fists plus a shitload of tequila and they got in several hits.

He made them regret it, at least. Until Xavier showed up to pull him off the fuckers and they got out of there right before the cops were called.

Just one more thing he owed to Xavier. It chafed. He didn’t like being in debt to anyone.

After spending the day failing to make any progress with his mustang, he grabbed his dinner and jogged up the stairs to eat in his room. He’d felt Calla’s eyes on him as he went. Liam’s too.

He ignored them and spent the rest of the night in his room. He felt on edge as he got in to bed that night.

Sleep didn’t come.

His ghosts were too restless.

Ben. His mother. His years spent as Bone’s bitch. The feel of Ben’s slim body slipping onto his bunk each night.

Ben was always too skinny. He’d have skipped meals if Mack hadn’t been there ordering him to eat.

Sometimes Mack had resented Ben’s neediness. There were days Ben would go all but catatonic unless Mack was there giving him commands. Near the end, there was a six month stretch where Ben only came alive at night when they were alone together in bed.

“Master,” he’d whisper as he reached for Mack in the darkness. “How do you want your slave tonight?”

It was a game Ben liked to play. Mack balked at first until he felt Ben’s distress when he refused. He didn’t know why Ben liked it that way. His devotion to Mack was probably unhealthy. Then again, they were in a fucking super max prison—healthy wasn’t really an option on the table. So Mack played along.

“On your knees,” Mack ordered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up. “Suck my cock.”

Moments later, he felt Ben’s trembling hands reaching to pull his cock from his pants. Then a hot mouth sucking him in.

Mack’s hands went to Ben’s head. He always kept his hair so short it was almost shaved. Mack massaged Ben’s scalp as Ben went to town on his cock.

“Deeper. I want to come down your throat,” Mack growled.

Ben pulled off just long enough to whisper, “Yes, Master. Whatever you say, Master.”

Mack hissed out through his teeth as Ben swallowed his cock. He could deep throat like no one Mack had ever met.

He had to fight from coming right there on the spot.

“Fuck your hand while you suck me off.”

Ben’s head shook back and forth on Mack’s cock. Mack gripped Ben’s head harder.

“Fucking do it. Master will punish you if you don’t.”

Ben moaned and Mack leaned over until he was whispering close to his ear. “You don’t do what I say and I’ll take your ass, little slave. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me into next week. Now grab your fucking cock.”

Ben lifted both his hands to rest them on Mack’s thighs.

Mack’s cock swelled at his refusal. Some nights Ben was only up for giving him a blow job. More often than not actually, these days.

Maybe him wanting more meant that he was coming out of whatever funk he’d been in lately. Mack hoped so. He hated seeing him so listless.

Mack grabbed Ben’s shoulders and pushed him back. Ben’s mouth made a loud pop noise as his lips slid off Mack’s cock.

Mack didn’t hesitate. He dragged Ben up onto his bunk bed, shoving him face down into the mattress.

“On your knees.”

“No, Master. Don’t. I swear I’ll be good. Don’t fuck my ass.”

“I told you the consequences if you didn’t suck my dick.” Mack gripped Ben’s hips as he positioned himself behind him.

“No, don’t,” Ben said, getting on his knees and shoving down his pants in the same motion. “Don’t, Master. I can’t take your big cock.” He leaned back, brushing his ass back and forth against Mack’s dick. “You’re too big and hard.”

“Spit,” Mack said, shoving his hand in Ben’s face. Ben obeyed and Mack rubbed it up and down his cock. Then he positioned his crown at the entrance of Ben’s anus. He paused there a moment, listening in the dark for the sound of Ben whispering his safe word or snapping his fingers. But there were only Ben’s heaving breaths.

Mack pushed inside Ben’s ass and Jesus, it felt good. Ben’s little whimpers only drove him forward. But not too fast. Or too hard. No matter how riled up he got, he never lost himself so much that he didn’t remember he always had to be careful with his little Ben.

Mack pushed in inch by inch until he was finally seated all the way up Ben’s ass. He leaned over his back and kissed the nape of his neck. “Look at you gripping my cock like such a good little slave. Are you hard yet? Admit it. You love being fucked by Master.”

Ben shook his head back and forth but the more Mack kissed along his neck, the softer Ben’s body went.

“You dream about it all day long, don’t you? You were hard at dinner, weren’t you? Thinking about how Master was going to bury himself inside you.”

“I’m your slave,” Ben whispered, his back moving up and down with each heaving breath. “I have to do whatever Master says.”

Mack pulled out and then shoved slowly in again. Ben trembled underneath him. “Don’t lie,” he whispered, his voice harsh. “If I grab your cock, I’d feel just how much you love it. Your eyes have been begging for me to fuck you all day long.”

“No,” Ben started but Mack reached around and grabbed his cock, rubbing his thumb across the precum that was beaded on the tip and massaging it up and down Ben’s shaft.

Ben’s breath hitched and he bucked back against Mack, driving Mack’s cock further up his ass.

“That’s too bad.” Mack let go of Ben’s dick and he immediately whimpered. “Slave boys who don’t do what they’re told don’t get treats.”

“No, Master. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Too late. Fuck your hand. Show me how much you want to please me. Make me believe it.”

Mack dropped his lips back to Ben’s neck, kissing around to the side and then sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Ben loved being marked. He said it showed everyone who he belonged to.

“You’re mine and you’ll do whatever I say,” Mack rasped into Ben’s ear before latching onto his neck again.

“Yes, Master,” Ben gasped, his voice reedy with need. “I belong to you.”

Mack felt the moment Ben gave in. This was the moment every night built toward—Ben resisting until he finally consented out loud. Only then would he see to his own pleasure. For whatever reason, Ben needed it that way. Every time. Mack suspected it had everything to do with that fucking bastard, Bone, but he never said that out loud.

“Then show me,” Mack said. “Fist your cock. And tell me who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” Ben gasped, and even though Mack couldn’t see, he knew Ben was jacking himself off. “Forever.”

Mack’s cock surged and he grabbed Ben’s hips while he tried his damndest not to fuck Ben as hard and quick as he wanted.

Especially when Ben moaned his name. “Mackenzie.” Not Master. In the last moments it was always Mackenzie.

Mack felt it hit his balls.

“Come,” he ordered harshly. Ben squeezed on Mack’s cock and bucked before letting out an agonized gasp. Mack forced himself to keep fucking Ben slowly.

He’d learned how to come this way. Slow and steady. Feeling the moment of Ben’s pleasure and his cock inevitably responding. He felt the cum lighting up his cock and he grunted as he shoved to the hilt again. Then it hit and he pumped in and out. Once. Twice.

Ben all but collapsed beneath him and Mack rolled them so they were on their sides, spooning.

Mack yanked the sheet over them. Nothing made him sleep better than coming hard. He was almost asleep when he heard Ben’s voice.

“I’d die in here without you.”

Mack stiffened. “Don’t fucking say that.”

“It’s true,” Ben said. And then quieter. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’ll love you to my dying day.”

Mack’s stomach clenched. “Stop talking about dying.”

Ben went quiet after that.

Mack felt the words left unsaid. He knew Ben did too, though he never complained that Mack never told him he loved him back.

Mack snaked his arm around Ben’s stomach and pulled him close.

Not knowing how much he’d come to regret not telling Ben he loved him that night.

Because the very next day, Ben was shanked in the yard.

By Bone’s newest cellmate. Mack had been inside on assigned kitchen duty. He had to hear secondhand about how Ben had bled out right where he fell in the dirt. All alone in his last moments. He was dead before the medic even got on the scene.

The day following, Bone grinned at Mack from across the room. It was then Mack decided that if it was the last thing he ever did on earth, he’d put that motherfucker in the ground.