Good Boys Don't Read online

  Good Boys Don’t

  K.A. Merikan

  Nate doesn’t fit in with his friends from church. He isn’t all that religious. He likes music his parents wouldn’t approve of. He’s gay. He’s determined to stay under the radar, but a chance meeting with a handsome biker who flirts Nate out of his modesty might throw those plans out of the window.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living, dead, or undead, events, places or names is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without a permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  Text copyright © 2019 K.A. Merikan

  All Rights Reserved

  http://kamerikan.com

  Edited by No Stone Unturned

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  Cover design by

  Natasha Snow

  http://natashasnow.com/

  Table of contents

  Good Boys Don’t

  NEWSLETTER

  PATREON

  About the author

  Other books by K.A. Merikan

  Good Boys Don’t

  Nate didn’t know the faces of the Desert Crows, because they were hidden under layers of stage makeup, and he’d barely gotten to listen to a couple of their songs last week, but he was already invested in the dark image of the band. In their only video, the lead singer performed tucked into an open pig carcass inside a slaughterhouse, and while the very idea of it revolted Nate at first, he ended up watching the performance over and over, morbidly fascinated by the raw nature of the lyrics.

  “Nathaniel! Please play for us.” Paula smiled at him and grabbed his elbow to pull him closer.

  Nate had asked her so many times to not use his full name, but it wasn’t sinking in. Paula had told him that ‘Nathaniel’ sounded more ‘mature’, and there was no arguing with that when she made up her mind.

  Nate smiled at her despite wishing to be at the Desert Crows concert already. He would have to sneak out of the hotel and get to the nearby nightclub to attend, but until evening, he would play his good boy part, If his parents knew that he’d begged to come with his church group to a Christian youth music conference, not because he was interested in inspirational songs but to listen to death metal, he’d be getting an exorcism, not approval.

  So he wore a perfectly ironed shirt, buttoned up despite the heat, combed his hair with a tidy side parting, and he’d play for Paula if need be. He couldn’t have even a shadow of suspicion on him.

  “Sure, just let me get my guitar.”

  The hotel clientele was a mixed bag of business travellers and people who’d come to see one of the music events happening over the weekend, and while Nate would have to lie in order to see the band that would have given his mom a heart attack, he was ready to do all it took to experience something that didn’t feel like a PG-rated version of the world.

  With a heart full of hope, he exchanged a God-bless-you with a group of girls in identical T-shirts and rushed through the lobby, toward the bus where he’d left his guitar. As he was about to cross the road, dying to be back inside where air-con made wearing clothes bearable, a motorcycle sped right in front of him.

  His gaze followed the biker to a parking space nearby. His tattooed arms were on show, and despite his anger at the reckless rider, Nate still bit his lip, suddenly thirsty. But there was no time for ogling a biker and his long, flowing hair. He didn’t want to be spotted doing so, since the guy looked like he could pack a punch.

  By the time Nate was out of the bus with the guitar case hanging on his shoulder, the buff stranger was gone. Nate sighed. Only a couple of months now. He would soon leave his family home and start college in LA, and once he was out from under his parents’ watchful eyes, he could ogle all the guys he wanted… within reason.

  Maybe he’d even do more. Maybe he’d spend his first night in a new city in one of those clubs for gay people and get his first kiss out of the way?

  He daydreamed about his future all the way back to Paula and the other girls, shy about being watched by a group so large. Had she called all her friends over? They’d even brought him a chair, and some of the girls sat on the carpet for this impromptu show. Paula tossed back her golden hair and smiled, tinkering with the small cross pendant at the collar of her shirt.

  “Nathaniel has such a beautiful voice,” Paula’s friend, Vivian, said, only giving Nate more stage fright.

  As if it wasn’t enough that regular hotel guests, who were not at all connected to the Christian rock event, started taking notice. He was glad Paula hadn’t decided to organize this in the main lobby.

  “Right? Its tone carries so much meaning. It’s one of those voices you hear, not only with your ears, but also with your heart,” Paula added, touching her manicured hand to the center of her chest.

  Nate had better start playing, or this nonsense would never stop!

  The first notes felt awkward, but once he got into the rhythm, the soothing melody flew from under his fingers, and he leaned over the guitar, comfortable to have this physical barrier between him and the spectators.

  In the privacy of his bedroom, when his parents were away, he played Nirvana and Cannibal Corpse, but he knew the religious songs by heart, too. He rarely sang though, instead preferring to stay as background for a choir or vocalist. He had a voice of his own that he wanted to present, but the words felt like lies in his mouth.

  But it didn’t matter, since he always made up his own songs in his head, and the more in tune with music he was, the less he needed to focus on motion, sinking deeper into his mind instead. He dreamed of unknown freedoms, of hot skin, of the fragrant summer air. Of heat, of touch, of the sun kissing his face.

  He would forge his own path, and his parents, no matter how much he loved them, would either accept it or not. But whatever was to happen, his heart was full of hope.

  When he opened his eyes, finishing the song, his brain froze, unsure what it was registering. He met an intense gaze focused on him, the man like a hawk about to strike. Not far away, beyond the small crowd of girls, the biker who’d almost killed Nate in front of the hotel was staring at him in a way no other man had before.

  The intensity of this moment made Nate’s heart drum faster, and he couldn’t bear to look away from the handsome face. The man’s chin was peppered with stubble, his skin tan, but it was his hair that drew Nate’s attention. His own was only a few inches long, because his parents didn’t allow him to grow it out, but this guy? The stranger’s hair, slightly tousled after the bike ride, reached all the way to his studded belt, a glorious cascade of dark waves Nate itched to put his hands on.

  Dressed in black, wearing several rings and a necklace with a metal crow skull, he was like a rock god who’d stepped out of a guest appearance in a music video to swipe Nate off his feet—and possibly kill him. Nate caught himself staring and was about to avert his eyes, pretend their gazes meeting had been accidental, but the stranger kept watching him, as if out of all the things and people in the hotel, Nate was the most interesting object.

  Wait.

  It wasn’t just pure interest. There was something else in that dark gaze, an intense heat that was already licking Nate’s back with its fire.

  Was this gaydar?

  Was this it? Was Nate being checked out by a guy who looked like the embodiment of his fantasies?

  He snapped out of the trance when Paula leaned down to him and whispered, “What a creeper. He’s been standing there forever. You should go and tell him he should mind his own business. H
e must be like twenty-five. He’s making us uncomfortable.”

  Nate’s legs were unwilling to cooperate. “Uh, you think so?” he asked, even though this, at least, provided him with an excuse to talk to the mysterious stranger.

  “He’s exactly the kind of man Reverend Allen told us to watch out for. He’s one step from Satan.”

  Nate swallowed and approached lust personified. The guy didn’t avert his gaze, and instead, his full lips quirked in… invitation? A challenge?

  Nate squeezed the guitar, which he kept at the front of his body, as if it were his shield. He was halfway across the empty space between the man and the girls when he realized how stupid it must’ve looked, but it was too late to put the instrument back in the case. He trudged on until he was face to face with the tall man in leather, too flustered to speak. Then again, what was his original reason for coming over? He couldn’t remember.

  The man wasn’t at all startled, and he smiled in a way that made Nate’s world collapse in on itself. Why weren’t they kissing yet? He’d give anything to kiss those lips and press his fingers against the stubble.

  “Nice voice. Too bad it’s wasted on Jesus.” The man winked, and Nate wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. Was this for real? The biker had a raspy undertone to his voice, and something about that quality flustered Nate.

  He wasn’t sure what to say at first, slightly paranoid that this could be a trap, and that his reaction was being watched and recorded. But no Christian person would have said what the man just had, so Nate decided to be bold too. “Oh.”

  That wasn’t bold at all. Captivated by the brown gaze, he was a mouse too terrified to run from the cat, and would end up as his plaything. “So you weren’t… spying on the girls?”

  When the man cocked his head, his long hair slid over his shoulder. He remained casual and smirked, as if he didn’t know he presented a most glorious sight. “What girls?”

  He was gorgeous. Had the firmest jaw line, the darkest stubble, and the sexiest smile under a large yet somehow graceful nose. If Satan were to ascend the Earth to tempt people into his arms, this was the form he’d take. “Were you… listening to me then?” Nate asked, burning with an explosive mixture of shame and hope.

  “You’re really good with the guitar. I’m Curtis.” He held out his hand, and even his fingers were tattooed. He was not the type of man Nate should’ve been befriending. But he so very much wanted to.

  “Nate,” he whispered back, hugging the guitar. “Do you play?”

  Curtis nodded, and only then Nate noticed that their hands hadn’t parted for way too long. “Bass. I enjoy providing the rhythmical framework to music. We should jam.” His gaze seared Nate on the spot, and he could already feel the flames of Hell licking the soles of his feet.

  Nate let out an awkward chuckle and glanced toward the girls, but Paula was the only one still waiting for him. She frowned and gestured for him to come back. As if. “You… yes, I’d like some pointers. You must be… more experienced,” he said, feeling a hot flush spread over his face.

  Curtis's smile became positively wolfish, showing off the canines Nate was dying to feel against his skin. Never before had a man talked to him this way. “Speaking of experience, show me some ID. I only teach music to adults,” he said and let go of Nate’s hand.

  Nate was on the verge of hyperventilating, but he didn’t question the fact that a perfect stranger wanted to see his ID, and handed him his driving licence, lost in a fuzzy world where anything beyond the two of them was just background noise.

  Curtis was still smiling when he looked between Nate and the card. “What’s your Zodiac sign?”

  Nate blinked, stupefied by the absurdity of that question. His family’s stance on horoscopes was that they were a step toward the occult and thus—eternal damnation. But he’d checked his many times. “Virgo. W-what is yours?”

  Curtis snorted and handed Nate back the ID. “Did you say ‘virgin’?”

  Nate was on fire, his throat so tight he was getting lightheaded. “I… there are people here,” he said, protectively squeezing the guitar to his chest.

  Was this flirting? Or was he being mocked by a guy who’d somehow guessed his secret?

  When Curtis’s gaze softened, Nate became a puddle of goo melting into the carpet. “Sorry, Scorpio’s can be vexing. I’m in room 205 if you’re up for it.”

  “When?” Nate asked, even though he still didn’t know whether Curtis was asking about playing guitar together or… doing something much less innocent. He’d be up for both, even if he’d never as much as kissed a man.

  To be fair, he’d never kissed anybody on the lips.

  Curtis poked the side of Nate’s sneaker with his steel-toed boot. “Now.”

  The touch sent a flash of arousal up Nate’s leg and pulled at his cock so intensely he needed two seconds to answer. “I… will come over very soon,” he said, remembering that he wasn’t alone, and that people could report his conduct to his parents once they all arrived home.

  “Don’t make me wait too long, Nate.” Curtis gave him a short nod, and when he turned around and walked off, Nate couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s back and ass.

  What had just happened?

  He’d come to the hotel in hopes of sneaking out to a concert. Would he instead fulfill his dreams of forbidden closeness? He’d imagined many times that he would go to college and only spread his wings there. Meet a cool guy who would become his boyfriend, and they’d explore sexuality together. Curtis was nothing like the man Nate had planned to have his first experience with, even if he was everything Nate dreamed of. Older, experienced, with heaps of confidence, and unbothered by Nate’s stuttering.

  The real deal.

  He was still breathless when he found Paula at the entrance of the corridor that led to all the rooms used for the Christian Youth Music convention. “He promised not to bother you again,” he said, getting to his knees and placing the guitar in its case, just so that he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes when his mind was in such chaos.

  Would he have those tattooed hands on him soon?

  “Aw, thank you, Nathaniel. I hoped so much that you’d be coming to this trip. You’re the best guy I know,” Paula said with a smile, and when Nate stood, he could’ve sworn an extra button was undone on her shirt.

  He smiled at her, shivering when one of the rooms down the corridor ahead erupted in loud music. Perhaps he would have enjoyed it if he didn’t know the song was about rapture. “I think I might lie down for now. I’ve got a bit of a headache, and I want to be ready for later tonight,” he lied with so much ease he was almost ashamed of it.

  Almost.

  Because the promise of Curtis naked and all over him made his vision blurry, let alone his morals.

  Paula sighed loudly. “Oh no… I was hoping we could get to know each other better. You know how it is with parents around. They think we’re still kids.”

  The heat on Nate’s back was replaced by cold sweat. “I think we’re already good friends.”

  Paula looked around and hooked a finger with Nate’s. “Better friends, Nate.”

  What was this? Had he started emitting special pheromones? “I-I don’t think that’s what Jesus would want for us,” he said flatly. If there was a Hell, he’d be burning in it.

  “Oh.” Paula pulled away with her cheeks flushing. “Um… See you at the concert.” She flashed him a smile and skittered away, leaving Nate feeling like the one person who’d never be allowed into paradise.

  Then again, at least she was out of his hair. It wasn’t like he could be honest with her about being gay.

  He couldn’t tell anyone, except, maybe, Curtis. If Curtis had only used the music as an excuse to get Nate inside his room without saying the S-word, that is. Because why else would he have asked to see Nate’s ID?

  With a head full of worried excitement, Nate moved his feet, trying to remain invisible, in case someone wanted to know where he was going, or why he wasn’t
listening to God’s Daughters performing on the main stage. He became that bit calmer once he passed reception, but when the lift door closed behind him, his stomach plummeted contrary to the force of the upward movement.

  What was he doing? This was madness. For all he knew, Curtis could be a serial killer, and Nate—his next victim. Nate’s own actions broke all the rules he’d set for himself. Despite knowing he wasn’t like his family, he’d intended to play his good boy part for as long as he lived at home. He wasn’t one to rock the boat. He was a reasonable young man who could think clearly and assess danger.

  Yet here he was, guided by his dick.

  He already imagined Curtis naked, his muscular body getting sweaty, his fingers curling around Nate’s wrists, long hair tickling Nate’s skin.

  By the time the lift opened, Nate was on the verge of running away, locking himself in the room he shared with another boy from their church, and sign off gay things until college.

  But instead, he walked toward room 205 in a mindless state while arousal burned holes in his brain. He wasn’t better or more reasonable than other guys, as some girls and adults believed. He was guided by lust so strong all sense went out the window.

  When he knocked, it didn’t even feel like his own hand hit the wood, and he was on the verge of taking a step back when Curtis opened the door and scanned Nate from head to toe.

  “Quick. I like it,” he said in a voice that made goosebumps appear all over Nate’s arms. It was low, and powerful. The voice of someone who knew what they wanted and what they needed to do to get it.

  Nate stepped over the threshold with a sense of loss, and once the door closed behind him, the proximity of a man older, more experienced, and maybe—hopefully—interested in more than Nate’s guitar skills made him stiffen. How was he to navigate this situation? Should he pretend the meeting was all really about playing music and wait for Curtis’s move?

  He didn’t get to make up his mind. Curtis stepped closer and leaned down, stealing a kiss in one smooth move. His arms wrapped around Nate’s waist, and before he knew it, Curtis pressed him against the door, sliding his hands to Nate’s ass and squeezing.