Sinner Like Me by Avril Ashton



Fifteen minutes late.

He looked at the watch on his wrist then at the clock on the wall in the hotel bar. Yup. Fifteen minutes late. He’d give his date another ten before he walked out and never looked back. He didn’t do rejection. He damn sure didn’t get stood up. But he should have expected it, shouldn’t he? Late hours, always the late hours working. And where did that leave him? Waiting in a dimly lit hotel bar on their anniversary.

He eyed the bottles lining the wall behind the bulky bartender. Times like these he wished he was a lover of alcohol. He’d be drowning his sorrows in something dark and expensive guaranteed to burn and make him forget. At least for a few.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and checked it. No missed calls. No unchecked texts. No surprise. A shadow fell across his table and he looked up at the waitress, who batted her fake lashes and placed the glass on her tray in front of him.

“Compliments of the man over there.” She flicked a thumb and he followed where she pointed.

A man sat across the room, his back to the wall in a booth all by himself. He couldn’t make out the stranger’s face, cloaked as he was in shadow, but he shook his head and looked back at the waitress.

“No, thanks. I don’t drink.”

Her gaze dropped to the glass of clear liquid he’d been sipping on.

“That’s water. I don’t drink, but you can relay my thanks.” He dismissed her by dropping his gaze back to his phone. He waited until she moved away then looked up. Mystery man was gone.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hit on. Maybe tonight he gave off the pissed and desperate vibe. It was his own fault really. He knew what he was getting into falling for someone who worked so hard, who gave his all to the job.

Shit. He drained the last of the water in his glass and got to his feet, making his way to the bar with long strides. “Water,” he said to the bartender. “In a bottle, please.” He sat on the closest stool and tried not to feel as let down as he felt. As disappointed. He tried, sure, but fuck it, he failed. Miserably. Wasn’t the first time. Wasn’t the second. He had decisions to make, now.

Did he allow it to continue or did he call everything to a halt?

Something to think about.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

He froze at the low, husky voice then chanced a glance to his right. A man stood next to him. Leaned, more like. He leaned against the bar, his gaze heavy. The mystery man from earlier. He hadn’t seen the man’s face, but somehow he knew.

He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so he ignored the man.

“You don’t look like you belong in a place like this.”

All right, so the mystery man wasn’t taking the hint and definitely wasn’t going away. He threw the guy a frown. “What do you want?”

Humor glinted in the man’s dark eyes when he shrugged. “Just trying to make a new friend.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in making friends. Go away.” He brought the bottle of water to his lips and took a swallow. Mystery Man’s gaze dropped to his throat and didn’t budge.

“In town on business?” Mystery Man’s dark eyebrow lifted.

“What’s it to you?” And why was he engaging this uncouth stranger in conversation?

Mystery Man shrugged again, his wide shoulders moving under the black shirt and jacket he wore paired with jeans and black shoes. His body looked nice—okay really fit and tight—but he wasn’t really looking.

“You look lost,” Mystery Man said, “But I’m loving the way that suit fits you.”

Fucking cheesy pickups. “I’m not lost.”

Mystery Man sidled closer until his body heat was...unmistakable.

“Do you always insist on staying where you’re not wanted?’ He tried leaning away from Mystery Man’s heat, but the bastard jostled closer.

“Do you always insist on being so rude?”

“I’m rude?” He swung around and stared into Mystery Man’s laughing eyes. “Fuck off.” He licked his lips and didn’t miss the way Mystery Man’s gaze turned all hooded and hungry. Okay. Nope. He hopped off the stool, stepped away, and Mystery Man blocked his path. “You have two seconds to get away from me. I won’t ask a second time.”

The sides of the stranger’s mouth quirked up. “You look angry. Do you need to let off some steam? If so, I’m your man.” He winked.

He scoffed. “I’m not interested.” He stepped around the man, who then grabbed his wrists. He looked down, staring at the rough fingers clamped around him. Damn. Some kinda touch. His heart raced as if he were out of breath. “Don’t touch me.” But he didn’t even try to shake off the man. Or pull away. And he sounded breathless. What?

Mystery Man just looked at him, his gaze penetrating, making him squirm. He held on to his stoic expression with an effort, trying his best not to give away how much that touch was affecting him.

“Your pulse is racing.”

Well fuck. He took a deep breath. This night was turning out to be all kinds of interesting, wasn’t it?

“Don’t tell me you’re not affected,” Mystery Man said. “I can see it in your eyes, the way you tremble when I—”

He closed the short distance between them and kissed the man. To shut him up. Yes. But soon enough he was whimpering when Mystery Man held him tightly against his chest and plunged his tongue into his mouth. Yess. Now he could cop to the trembling. And the hard dick between his legs. And loving the way the man kissing him smelled, decadent and hot.

Mystery Man broke the kiss and continued talking. “You taste so fucking fine.”

Jesus. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He felt eyes on him and looked around. People were definitely staring. “You wanna talk or do you have something else on your mind?”

Mystery Man’s eyes flashed. Hot. Hmm. “I’ve got a room upstairs.”

I just bet you do.He didn’t allow himself to think beyond now, to regret the move he was about to make. He just gave himself permission to get swept away in the moment, in the heat and taste of a complete stranger. “Take me there.”

The second the hotel room door closed behind them, Mystery Man slammed him into the door, kissing him hard and deep. And wet. He writhed against the man, rubbing against him with needy sounds rumbling in the back of his throat. He buried his fingers in the other man’s short hair, tugging, pulling as the stranger bit his bottom lip hard then sucked at the pain.

“Tell me your name,” Mystery Man whispered against his jaw.

“No names.” He pressed his erection into the stranger’s middle as they fumbled around.

Yanking away the stranger’s jacket, he flung it across the room then tore apart his shirt.


Buttons popped and scattered.

Mystery Man’s teeth grazed his throat, nipped his collar bone, and he threw his head back, knocking it against the door. He hissed when fingers cupped him through his pants, fondling him, squeezing. The stranger turned him until he faced the closed door, kissing his nape and licking his earlobe.

“You got someone waiting for you at home?” Mystery Man stroked him through his pants, root to tip.

He huffed out a breath. “Not tonight I don’t.” He pushed into the touch, begging without words. He wanted it rough and fast, anything to wipe out the doubts in the back of his head and the words begging him to be cautious. He reached behind and hung on to Mystery Man’s neck, grinding on the hard cock poking his ass.

His jacket had long been discarded, he couldn’t remember when. Now Mystery Man did away with his shirt and licked his way down his spine. He writhed, arching into those soft lips, trembling when his ass was palmed, squeezed.

Some fucking touch. He loved it. Fingers dipped under his waistband, scraped against the soft, sensitive flesh of his wet cock head, and he groaned.

“Fuck.” He rocked forward, into the touch, then back onto the cock nestled between his ass cheeks. “Fuck me,” he begged. “Do it hard.”

Mystery Man dropped to his knees, yanking at his pants, and too late the act registered.

The man froze.

“Panties.” The word was a mumble. “Nice.” He sank his teeth into his ass cheeks, biting him through the panties. “Sexy.”

“Then fuck me, don’t make me wait.”

Mystery Man pulled the black lace down, but not all the way. He left them bunched around his aching balls and turned him until his bobbing cock was in the stranger’s face.

“Do it,” he urged. “Suck me.”

Mystery Man bent his head and swallowed him down, his hot throat sucking him deeper and deeper.

“Shit.” He grabbed the man’s head and anchored himself. Then he went to work, hips snapping forward, sinking into the man’s convulsing throat with shaky moans. “God. God. This shit...” The man’s mouth was magic, and he loved it. His partner loved sucking cock; the enthusiastic moans gave him away. So he gave him what he wanted, fucked his mouth, fucked his throat until the other man gagged, until the fingers clamped on his hips dug deep enough to leave marks later.

Fingers hefted his balls, rolled them around, and his legs buckled. Wet fingertips traced his crack and circled his hole, making his legs completely collapse. Crap. He was gonna come, gonna fucking lose himself.

“Please. Oh, God.” He’d been turned into a beggar, and he did so proficiently. “Please.”

The stranger pulled off his cock and picked him up without a word. He wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and took his mouth, sucking on the tongue stabbing down his throat. He humped the cock right there, teasing at his ass. Jesus. He didn’t even know when his pants and panties had come off, but they were gone, and the hot length of cock at his ass sent him into a frenzy.

He bucked and Mystery Man pulled his ass cheeks apart, teasing his hole with that wet cock head.

“Fuck me.” He threw his head back when they started moving, bouncing in the man’s arms, trying and failing to get that cock where he wanted it. Fingers pinched his nipples, twisted them. He yelled and the stranger swallowed the sound before throwing him onto the mattress.

He bounced.

“Hands and knees.”

He trembled at the growled words and did as commanded. On his hands and knees, he buried his face in the pillows, pulling on his erection when two fingers pushed into him, slick, cool, zeroing in on his knot in a blink. Fire zinged through him, lightning-fast. He undulated and slammed back on those digits. Two became three and he wailed at the pressure, biting the pillows, rocking back, knees apart, ass in the air as he took it.

Mystery Man’s palm came down on his ass in a blistering smack.

“Goddamn!” he shouted and clamped down on the base of his cock, stopping the orgasm in its tracks. “Fuck.”

“Can’t keep my eyes off that ass.” Mystery man licked his ear, bit the lobe. “Love the way it bounces for me.”

For him. Yes. All for him. There was no one else, not then, not when he was surrounded by everything hot and sexy and right.

The stranger covered him, front to back, as he brought his slick cock to his entrance and pressed in. The burn dried out his mouth and moistened his eyes. He breathed in and pushed out, taking it, because fuck if he didn’t want it. All of it. He got it, and he was so lost in all the sensations swamping him he forgot to be scared of the position they were in, of being taken like he was being taken.

A long, drawn-out wail forced its way past his swollen lips. Soft words—encouragement and carnal promise—drifted to him through the fog of lust and pain. He listened and soon heavy balls slapped up against his ass. He was filled, all the way full. He clenched at the thought and the stranger grunted, tightening his hold.

“Tell me when.”

He swallowed, clutching the sheets. “When.”

The stranger pulled out then slammed in, driving him higher. He shouted. The bed rocked. He pushed back on the cock in his ass. Dipping his head, he lifted his ass higher, and motherfucker, that cock sank even deeper.

Mystery Man fucked him at a punishing pace, one hand fisted in his hair, the other clamped down on his hips, holding him open so he could take it all. He took it, took that dick as it dug him out, broke him into pieces. There was no way to experience the pleasure without the pain, no way to get the fire without the burn. He sweated through it, each thrust sending his face smashing into the padded headboard. His cock was hard beyond belief, dripping pre-cum on the mattress, and he rubbed all over the sticky wet spot.

He screamed all the way through the pounding, throat sore. He felt drunk and out of his mind. He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want it to end. And Mystery Man seemed to read him, his mood, his need, because he barreled through his channel like a battering ram, making his inner muscles burn and convulse.

He missed it, being handled like this. Rough and wild. He missed screaming out his enthusiasm until his throat hurt.

Stranger switched up his position, hit his prostate dead-on, and he shouted, clawing at the mattress, trying to get away from the pounding. Rough fingers held his hips, yanked him back, and he froze, body seizing up as he took that punishment.

“Oh God, I can’t!” He couldn’t fucking take more. Stranger stroked his cock and his body went haywire, shaking. His words hiccuped. “D-Don’t. G-Gonna come.”

“Then do it.” Mystery Man twisted his wrist, jerking him off. “Come for me.” He kissed his neck, bit him.

He let go and pitched forward, coming and coming with a scream. Mystery Man fucked him through the orgasm, kept thrusting, and he kept coming, soaking the sheets with his seed.

“Feeling you come.” Mystery Man’s voice sounded strained. “That’s the shit.”

He contracted at those words and that was all she wrote.

“Oh shit!” The stranger sounded surprised. He came, the spreading heat of his cum and drawing a gasp from him.

They collapsed onto the bed, Mystery Man half on, half off his back. Fingers touched his, slid between them, held him. He eased up his grip on the sheets and squeezed those fingers. Man, he loved those fingers.

Warm breath kissed his ear. “Happy Anniversary.”

He grinned and turned his head, kissing those lips. He loved those lips, too. “Back at you, Marshal.”

Soft laughter teased his ear. “You totally got into that role, didn’t you?”

Syren laughed. “Hell yeah.” He nipped Kane’s shoulder. “I don’t do anything half-assed, you know this.” He winked.

“But we agreed we’d use names.” Kane pouted.

“Changed my mind. Was hotter that way.” He slid a hand down Kane’s back, cupped his ass. “You were a stranger, so I kept referring to you as Mystery Man in my head.”

Kane rocked into him, softened cock still inside Syren. “Fuck, it was definitely hotter.” He scraped his nails over Syren’s flank. “We should do this more often.”

Syren sighed and rolled away, Kane’s shaft sliding from him. It was hard to let go like they just did with a young daughter in the house. He’d felt Kane’s frustration, which was why he’d suggested they do this fantasy thing in the first place.

From the moment Kane first found him in Costa Rica, they’d been together. It had scared Syren at first how seamlessly the former federal marshal had fit into his family. For the longest time, it’d been Syren and Càtia. Càtia’s aunt—her birth mother’s sister—also lived with them. And Syren had Isa, the former street kid who grew up with him, the woman he considered his sister. But having Kane was different. There’d never been another human who held his heart the way Kane did.

Kane’s phone rang and he crawled off the bed to get it. He checked the screen then grinned at Syren.

Syren shook his head. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Kane didn’t answer, he simply put the phone on speaker and sat next to Syren. “Càtia.”

“Daddy, I can’t find Amy.” Their daughter sounded as if she was close to tears.

Kane lifted an eyebrow at Syren.

“The teddy bear Gabe bought her.”

“Ah.” Kane turned back to the phone. “Càtia, have Auntie Nina help you look for Amy, okay?”

“Can you and Papa come help us look?”

Syren took the phone. “Càtia, your daddy and I will see you tomorrow, remember? Have Auntie Nina look for Amy in the chest with O.G.’s toys.”

Càtia sniffed. “Yes, Papa.”

“It’s time for your bedtime, isn’t it, baby girl?” Kane asked.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“So go find Amy, and your papa and I will see you when you come down for breakfast.”

She didn’t speak.

“Càtia?” Syren called softly.

“Yes, Papa?”

“We love you, okay?”

“Love you, too.”

“Go to bed,” Kane said.

“Okay. Bye.” She hung up.

Kane looked at Syren. “She misses us.”

Syren nodded. He knew that. He missed her, too. She’d gotten used to having him home all the time now, and this was the first time he’d been gone overnight since they’d made Kane a part of their family. They still hadn’t found a good balance between being parents to Càtia, and their relationship. It had been hard work, but Syren wouldn’t trade a day of it. Not all of their issues were resolved, but the most important ones were.

Kane loved him and Càtia. Càtia considered Kane her daddy. Syren smiled. He’d cried the morning she’d so casually called Kane “Daddy” over the breakfast table. Kane had gone silent for a long time. Càtia had blown away his ability to speak for a while there.

“Do you think it’s time to think about giving her what she asked for?”

“Hm? What?”

Kane brought their entwined fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “She wants a baby brother. Don’t you think we should work on giving her one?”