Little Sh*t: Chosen Book 9 Read online

  "You're weird," Harley said, curling his lip slightly.

  "I need to tell you my big, stupid secret so you can leave me before I like you more than I already do. I don’t have time to be sitting up here for a millennia while you plan a tea party with your friends!"

  "I'm starting to think fights with you are going to confuse the hell out of me," Harley grumbled, walking past me to the bed and plopping down on the end. "Tell me this big secret."

  Crossing my arms, I glared. "That's how you…you can't just..." Growling, I walked over and flopped next to him, glad that the frustration seemed to have frightened those horrible butterflies away. "You just ask someone to tell you their secret just like that. Don't even say, 'When you're ready,' or anything like that," I grumbled.

  "Little Shit?"

  "What?"

  "I can almost guarantee whatever it is you are going to tell me, it's not going to change how I feel about you. Just calm down and tell me when you're ready."

  Sighing, I looked sideways at him. "My mom died right before my fifteenth birthday."

  "I know, Little Shit," he said quietly, reaching out to take my hand. "I had to read all of that when we found out you were missing."

  Swallowing, I nodded. "She probably thought she had all the time in the world. She was still pretty young. Barely thirty-five. She hadn't written a will or given any kind of instructions on what she wanted to have done with me in the event that she died. People I barely knew showed up at her funeral. A few of them family, but honestly, I'd only met them a few times. Including my mom's brother, Uncle Randy."

  Regardless of what people probably thought of Harley, he wasn't a stupid person. Already, realization was dawning on his face, and with it came anger.

  "Did you have to go live with Randy?" he growled, his voice almost terrifying.

  "Yes." My voice broke. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes. He was her closest living relative."

  Harley's breathing picked up, and I knew I didn't have to say this next part, but I needed to tell him. I'd never told anyone.

  "It was what it was at first. I was a grieving kid about to have his fifteenth birthday without his mom. I didn't do much beyond stare off into space most of the time, and he did nothing but drink. We barely spoke."

  My chest started to ache, and my breathing picked up, but I had to keep going. "On my birthday, a friend of mine from school called to wish me a happy birthday, and for some reason, he seemed pissed when I got off the phone. He kept saying men didn't wish other men happy birthday unless they were fucking, and was I a faggot? Did I like getting fucked in the ass by my friend?

  "At the time, I was just coming to grips with the fact that I was gay. I hadn't even told my mom, and with him yelling and acting crazy, I decided I wasn't going to tell him either. He finally calmed down and left, probably going to get more beer. I don't know. I just know that when he came back, he came straight to my room."

  Harley growled beside me, and his hand tightened painfully on mine. Wrestling it away from him, I repositioned it and looked into his calming violet eyes. Eyes that looked to have a storm brewing inside them.

  "At first, I thought he came to apologize for being crazy. My mom did that sometimes. But he didn't. He didn't say a word. That was the first time he raped me."

  "Where is that motherfucker now?" he growled, standing and striding to the door.

  "Harley, stop! Harley!"

  His skin looked to be crawling, and I could tell he was barely keeping himself from shifting as he rested his forehead against the wood of the door. But he stopped.

  "He's dead," I whispered, my stomach roiling. I waited until Harley turned back around to look at me before I spoke my biggest secret out loud. "I killed him."

  "Good," he growled, striding back across the room and scooping me off the bed.

  "What?" My voice was an octave higher than normal, but I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. "Good?"

  "Tell me how. Kinsey's records showed that you went into the system. For some reason they didn't say anything about an uncle. So nobody thought to look into an uncle." Pulling back, he looked into my eyes with morbid curiosity. "Tell me how you did it, Little Shit."

  Huffing out a confused breath, I shook my head. "After I ran away, I lived on the streets for about two and a half years. Right after my eighteenth birthday, I stole some heroin from a few of my drugged-out street friends and snuck into his house while he was sleeping." Smiling slightly, because even though I'd lived with this secret for years that I knew could land me in prison, I honestly couldn't regret what I'd done to the bastard.

  "He woke up as soon as I stabbed him with that first needle. But I'd already tied him to the bed. It only seemed right, since that's what he'd had to start doing to me toward the end. I even used his special scarves because they didn't leave lasting marks.

  "I watched him turn from pissed to scared in seconds. I sat there on that bed for fifteen minutes, waiting. By the time I pushed the plunger on that fifth needle, I could tell he knew what was going to happen.

  "It takes longer for someone to get high when they shoot it in the muscle rather than the vein, but eventually it catches up to you. I didn't sit around and wait for that. I'd already gotten what I wanted. I wanted to see the fear and then the acceptance that he was going to die and it was going to be because of me.

  "I left for about three hours. Went and got a burger, visited the neighborhood I'd only been a part of for four short months, and then I went back. He was already dead by then. I untied him, threw the scarves back in his closet and left."

  Even to my own ears, I sounded cold and uncaring. Like a freaking sociopath. But I couldn't change how I felt about that man. I was a flat-out murderer, and though I never planned to murder anyone ever again—unless they hurt someone I cared about—it didn't change the fact that I had killed someone in cold blood, and I had absolutely zero regrets about it.

  Taking me all the way down onto the bed, Harley watched my face. "You should probably know that if you hadn't ended that man's life—"

  "Killed him. I killed him, Harley. And I'd do it again." In a heartbeat. All I could hope was that I was his only victim. That he was too chickenshit to go after someone who wasn't dependent on him. Someone who needed him.

  Nodding, a hint of pride showing in his eyes, Harley corrected himself. "Killed. If you wouldn't have killed that man, I would have had him hunted down, and I would have shown him as much mercy as a child rapist deserves. And every single one of those guys downstairs who helped me get you out would have helped me. Even Boston."

  "Boston," I growled, glaring at nothing.

  "Easy. Boston isn't purposefully an ass. He's just serious."

  "Exactly," I said, unable to resist a second longer running my hand up under his t-shirt to explore that sexy crevice down the center of his back. "Being an ass because you are too serious to take into account anyone else's feelings is no different than being an ass because you don't let words roll around in your head for four hours before you say them."

  "I think you gave him something to think about at any rate, Little Shit. I just don't think he's ever thought about it like that. In all honesty, I haven't either. I know I have a problem. I didn't really stop to think about Boston's."

  I smiled because this man probably didn't stop to think that everyone else had social issues too. Because, though I knew he was older than me by quite a bit, he was fairly innocent in the way he thought. He tended to think that if there was a conflict between him and someone else who was generally a good person, Harley was automatically in the wrong. Even with a job like his, he somehow saw the best in most people.

  Hell, for some reason, he liked me. And I was one of the most jaded people anyone had ever met.

  It was a good thing he had me around to make sure nobody took advantage of that. Purposely or on accident.

  "Oh shit!" he said suddenly, scrambling off me.

  "What?!" I sat up fast, looking around and then back up at
his horrified face. "What's wrong?"

  "I..." He clutched his chest, looking wrecked. "Are you okay? After last night, I mean. I didn't know, Carter. I would have gone about it a lot differently if I had." He paced away from the bed and then back to the edge, looking down at me with a tortured expression. He dropped to his knees next to the bed. "I would never have practically molested you if I had known about your uncle," he whispered finally.

  My mouth dropped open in shock, and I had to try my best at forming words for several moments. Leaning sideways, I gripped his face in my hands, forcing him to look up from his crumpled position on the floor.

  "Stop. You did nothing I didn't want. There was a time when I was still traumatized by everything my uncle did to me. More than anything, it was the feeling of absolute helplessness. I relied on him. Even after I ran away, all I could think was that he was going to get away with all that shit because there was nothing I could do about it. I had no power over anything.

  "I even tried to have sex a few times during the time before I went back. I had thought having sex when it was my choice on my own terms would fix the helpless feeling inside me. Make me feel like I had an inkling of control. It didn't. Mostly, I came away a bit disturbed. Turns out, some men don't like it when you cry during sex, and some like it a little more than I'm comfortable with." When his face turned stormy again, and he opened his mouth to say something, I put my finger to his lips. "I'm not giving you names, because I don't have them."

  Sighing against my finger, he nodded.

  I could actually feel my face change. Harden. "Going back and taking that man out was what it actually took to feel like more than a helpless child who had nothing and nobody in the world. I left there feeling like I'd finally conquered my demons. What you and I did last night didn't even conjure him in the least. It was just us, Claus." I pulled his face to mine and kissed his lips, stopping to suck the bottom one into my mouth. "What we have is way too amazing to let him slip in and ruin it."

  Surging to his feet, he melded our lips together on the way up, again coming up over me and climbing on top while still kissing my mouth.

  Pulling back, he frowned down at me, looking a bit nervous. "Will you let me claim you?" he finally whispered.

  "Yes," I whispered back. "I've lived the last five years of my life cold and alone. I thought I liked it that way. Don't rely on anyone. Think the worst, you won't be disappointed." I paused to reach up and touch the corner of one of his beautiful violet eyes. "Almost from the moment you said my name for the first time, I knew something was different about you. You have somehow broken through a barrier I was cowering behind. I still don't think I'm going to be super friendly where everyone else is concerned, but I trust you. And I need you. Just the thought of being separated from you physically hurts."

  Smiling softly, Harley pecked a kiss to my lips, lingering and then drawing back. "I'm going to make you so happy you decided to let me in."

  Rolling my eyes, I threaded my fingers through his dark brown hair. "I don't think I decided anything. You are my soulmate. I may have had a choice, but who would choose to ignore their perfect match?"

  "Not me." Harley kissed me again, this time pressing inside my mouth, his tongue licking against mine and then swiping every surface available, like he was trying to taste every millimeter he could.

  I relaxed, letting him have his way with my mouth as I pressed my hard dick against his abs, wishing we were naked so I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

  "Naked," he groaned into my mouth. "I…fuck, you taste good." He pulled back, pressing his forehead to mine, breath sawing in and out in hard pants that caused it to fan against my slick, kiss-swollen lips. "But I have been dying to see you completely bare. To feel you against me.”

  Moaning, I brought my hands down to press at his shoulders. "Then get the fuck off of me so we can take our fucking clothes off."

  Chuckling, he levered himself off me, then the bed, already reaching behind his head to pull his shirt off in the sexiest, most ridiculous way possible.

  Narrowing my eyes, I looked his gorgeous torso over, licking my lips when I spotted my special prize. "Stop fucking showing off."

  "You are such a potty mouth." He dropped his hands to his pants but stopped, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, but this ain't no free show, Little Shit. Show me what I've been waiting my entire life to see."

  Not wasting any time, and way too turned on to even attempt to be sexy, I stripped off my shirt and then attacked the front of my pants like they were on fire.

  It took two-point-two-five seconds to get my jeans off. It would have taken a lot less, but I tipped over sideways on the bed when I had to raise both my shoulder and my legs to push them off of my feet the rest of the way when bicycle kicking like a crazy person got me absolutely nowhere.

  When I leaned back down onto the bed, my hands going for the band of my underwear, I glanced at Harley, expecting to see him gloriously naked, his beautiful body and two sexy piercings on display. But what I actually saw was him standing in exactly the same position he'd been in when I started my circus performance on the bed while trying to get less clothed.

  But instead of a sultry, teasing smile on his handsome face, I was getting a raised eyebrow and a wide-open mouth.

  "What?!" I growled. "Why are your pants still on?"

  "I was a little worried you were going to kill yourself. I was just waiting to see if I was going to have to save your life."

  Pulling a hand free momentarily to flip him off, I shucked my underwear and leaned back on my elbows on the bed, letting him take in every inch of my body.

  His body was locked up tight as he let his eyes roam my naked form from head to toe. Growling, he made a move toward the bed, but I threw a hand out, glaring.

  "I don't think so, Claus. Lose the fucking pants, then you can do whatever you want to my body."

  "Fuck," he groaned, unzipping himself quickly and reaching inside to clamp a hand down on his dick. "You can't say stuff like that, Little Shit. I have zero control over my body with you. You know I'll blow with very little effort."

  "Pants. Off." I spread my legs, pulling my knees up on the bed. It wasn't enough to show him my hole, but close enough to make him need to see it.

  "I'm going to die," he groaned, eyes zeroed in on the area below my balls as he pushed his pants down around his ankles and stepped out of them.

  I looked him over, again beyond amazed at his gorgeous body. His wide shoulders, narrow hips, and the carved out perfection of his muscles. All covered in smooth, bronzed skin, except for the dark brown hair sparsely covering his chest, arms, and legs, and the clearly groomed thatch at the base of his long, girthy, and veined shaft.

  His legs were fairly thick, the muscles of his thighs standing out as he stood there, locked in place. Probably knowing I was thoroughly enjoying myself as I looked my fill.

  In fact, he was doing the same. So, maybe he just wasn't ready to move yet.

  "I need you, Claus," I groaned, letting my legs fall against the bed as I relaxed back until my shoulders hit the mattress, and I took my dick in my hand, squeezing hard, still watching him.

  He licked his lips as pre-cum bubbled out of my slit, and I had to close my eyes to the look of white-hot desire on his face.

  I felt hands wrap around my ankles, and my eyes popped open in surprise just as I was flipped to my stomach. Those same hands left my ankles, and I whined desperately as they landed on my ass, massaging the globes while spreading me open.

  "So pretty," he whisper-whined, his hot breath on my hole. "Can I taste you here, Carter? I need to taste you."

  "Please. Fuck, Harley. Please taste me."

  His tongue swiped a searing line from the skin just behind my balls to the top of my crease, and I gasped, thrusting back against his mouth, needing pressure on my hole.

  "Mmm, fuck. I love your taste." He flicked his tongue against my hole again, and I ground my dick down against the blankets, wishing I could
keep this pressure on my dick as I pressed back into his mouth at the same time.

  When he surged forward and pushed against my hole with his tongue, my head fell forward, and I yelled his name into the bed. He pressed harder against my hole, easing the appendage inside my body.

  Never in my life had anyone done this to me. And with good reason. I'd never let anyone so intimately close to me. The couple of people I'd let fuck me since running away from my uncle’s home had been back-alley hookups, and once at a party, where I'd simply lowered my jeans past my ass.

  I hadn't bottomed since I took back control of my life. I'd honestly thought I'd never bottom again. But I'd gladly give Harley my ass. In fact, I was looking forward to it.

  I trusted him with everything. There wasn't a soul in the world who would care more about me––including myself––than Harley Daniels did.

  He seemed lost in his own world as he devoured my ass. I wouldn't complain even if I could have formed a coherent thought. My entire body was lit up like a match, my dick hard and throbbing, and my balls tight, ready to explode.

  When Harley's mouth left my ass, I whined, pushing back, trying to get it back.

  "I want to stretch you, Little Shit. And then I want to make love to you and claim you. Do you want that? Are you okay with that?"

  He'd crawled up my body, blanketing me with his deliciously naked bulk, whispering in my ear. He kissed the side of my neck before licking a path from my shoulder to my ear.

  My body vibrated with need, and I unconsciously tilted my hips, pressing my dick into the bed.

  "If you don't think you can handle it, or if it will bring up bad memories, I'd be more than happy for you to fuck me," he whispered, lowering his hips enough for his erection to brush gently against my ass cheek. "In fact, we'll probably end up doing that at some point tonight anyway. I want to feel you inside me just as much as I want to feel you around me."

  I groaned, picturing my cock sliding into his perfect ass, watching his globes ripple slightly as I pounded into him.

  "Is that what you want, Little Shit? To be buried inside me?" he growled, his voice sounding deeper, more aroused.