Dangerous Chemistry

Guillebeaux’s junk yard and chop shop is situated on the west side of our shitty backwater town, on the edge of the bayou, in Wyoming.

It’s been handed-down between Guillebeaux men for generations, which happens to be why I’m the latest felonious owner of the piece of shit, after my old man got his ass thrown into the slammer after getting nicked for procession of illegal contraband.

We Guillebeaux men act beyond the law, buying scrap metal no questions asked and stripping stolen motors and selling the parts for profit after scratching off those fucking serial numbers.

It’s hard graft and back breaking, but I always revel in the strenuous labour, never adverse to oil and filth and fucking sweat.

The graft keeps my mind occupied, away from Shay fucking Pierce and all the crap he caused me.

Fucking bastard.

He hightailed and left the first chance he got, all for a shiny seven-point badge and a sheriff’s uniform, the fucking pig.

I was nineteen when he left town, his balls shrivelling up as he spewed a load of bullshit about upholding the law and moving to fucking Nashville.

Come with me, Gunner, he’d urged desperately. Leave this shithole behind. Forget about the past and have a fresh start with me. No junk yards. No chop shops. No stealing. No sloshed old man who throws punches after his fifth bottle of moonshine. Just us. You and me.

I’d bawled curses at him back then, livid, a hole in my shoulder because of the motherfucker.

The fucking audacity he'd had, barely five minutes into his squeaky-clean new life and he was already slating mine.

He’d known what he was getting into when we’d fucked. He knew the Guillebeaux name, heard the hushed rumours about us hard-core redneck felons who dwell in shanty shacks beside the bayou, enwreathed by pilfered motors and steel.

He knew of the legacy that would be mine one day. He knew everything and still the rich boy wanted to get down and dirty with me. The scum from the other side of town and the upper-class pretty boy who sucked my cock behind the shack when my old man wasn’t looking.

His suburban life was boring and dull, which lead him to his subservient knees in front of me, while he choked on my wide cock, my hips bucking wildly as I face fucked his virgin mouth, my jeans pulled down around my ankles.

I’d shot spunk all over his face back then, taking pleasure as he flinched, eyes widening as he processed what had just happened to him.

My load had come thick and fast.

I’d deliberately offered no warning, giving him little option but to swallow the ropes that had shot into his mouth.

His face was dripping, beads of cum clinging to his dishevelled hair and eyelashes like pearls as he rapidly blinked the spunk out of his eyes.

I’d glowered down at him dominantly, fingering my cum into his mouth until he sucked my fingers clean, face flushed and chest heaving.

After slapping my softened cock against cheek, spewing the remaining sticky strings of spunk from my slit, I’d hauled him onto his shaky feet and shoved him up against the wall, pressing my body flat against his.

From the nervous and equally feverish look that pulled at his features, Shay had thought I was going to fuck him right there and then, against rough and splintered wood like some carnal beast.

I'd wanted to.

I’d really fucking wanted to, but my old man would pull up any minute.

I didn’t want to be interrupted when I finally pounded him up his tight asshole.

I’d bide my time, but Shay fucking Pierce was marked for the taking. I’d fuck him one way or another.

As gravel crunched beneath tires, I’d shoved my nose against his face, nostrils flaring, as I’d breathed in the scent of my salty load drilled into his skin. It smelt of sweat and piss.

I’d kissed him afterwards, chewing on his swollen lips, my tongue lashing against his as though locked in combat, before grinding my cock against him. Shay had moaned into my mouth. I'd done it, once. Twice. An answering hardest bulging in response.

“Get the fuck outta here,” I’d growled, yanking up my jeans before sheathing my cock inside and buckling them. “I’m not gonna be seen with you. But I’m gonna fuck you one day soon. You got that? You’re marked for the taking.”

Shay had nodded, panting.

I’d winked at him before forcibly shoving him away, snickering to myself as he stumbled towards town.

A man, especially a Guillebeaux man, never forgets the first pounding he inflicted on another. Deep into the night, even twenty years later, the moans Shay had uttered when I first breached him were etched into my memory, almost hauntingly so, often brought back to the surface as I hoarded snatches of our carnality together, working my dick relentlessly and spewing my heavy load until it dripped ropes down my fist. I fucking remembered everything from our first time together, from the way our bodies smelt, slapping together and dripping with sweat, to the feel of his muscles constricting beneath his skin.

Laying on my back, body aching from a days hard graft, I jerk myself off, stained sheets bundled around my knees, and I think of Shay fucking Pierce, as he was twenty years ago, subservient and trembling. I’m helpless not to when I’m alone in the dark, with nothing else to occupy me.

My mind travels back in time to our first fuck.

Twenty years ago...

Several days after Shay Pierce sucked my cock behind the shack, my old man had passed out on the beaten-up couch, a cigarette burning down in his fingers, spitting ash, while his other hand clutched a bottle of moonshine.

Bad moonshine could make a man go blind, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from belting it down all day, every day.

The chop shop had kept me occupied until now, but the idea of fucking Shay Pierce reared its fierce head until I couldn’t be satisfied with anything else. Jacking off wasn’t enough, so I sent him a text instead-

Get U’R fucking ass over here. Wanna fuck. Now! Ditch car and walk last half mile. Warning you. Get caught and you’ll live to regret it.

I had leered when my shitty phone pinged barely a minute later, my throat rumbling smugly. The fucking idiot was dying for me.

Shay fucking Pierce eagerly sent back a single word reply, which I sneered at on the shattered screen of my phone. It read-

Coming.

I ran my fingers through my black hair as I waited, wondering if he was going to chicken out and deny me sex, which would end badly for him. I was so fucking turned-on and needed a hole to fuck.

An hour passed and I was pissed.

So fucking pissed.

People usually got fucking thrashed when I felt like that. That’s how us Guillebeaux men worked, either with our knuckles or our dicks.

My wrath exploded when a booming bark roused me from my stupor, warning of approaching intruders.

I was on my feet and out the door in seconds, seizing and cocking a hand gun on my way.

It wouldn’t be the first-time rival blood was shed on our land. I’d kicked up the dirt myself to conceal the stains after a shoot-out. It was a fucking inconvenience but I was no stranger to mud and bodily fluids throughout my seventeen years.

I squinted into the pitch-black darkness, the face of the piercing crescent moon reflected in the bayou. Fucking biting flies undulated in the humid breeze, the cicadas clicking as I aimed the barrel of my gun steadily towards an approaching figure, finger applying pressure to the trigger.

I felt fucking invincible.

“Take another step and I’ll blow your fucking brains out,” I growled.

“Jesus Christ. It’s me. Shay,” a strangled voice gasped. “Don’t shoot. Please”

I grunted irritably, lowering the gun.

“You’re fucking late,” I snapped harshly. “I’d be well within my rights to scatter your brains in the fucking dirt.”

Shay fucking Pierce stumbled closer wearily.

I chortled mirthlessly at the sight of him. It was a grisly sound, but I relished in it. It sounded like the darkest depth of hell.

I always took pleasure in scaring the shit out of him. My cock twitched, bulging inside my jeans. He was pale and wide-eyed, looking like he’d pissed or shit himself.

“Got lost,” Shay said shakily, eyeing the gun in my hand cautiously. “Why couldn’t I just drive here?”

“Because I’d fuck you up if you woke my old man,” I retaliated.

A chain had rattled to my left before a Rottweiler dived towards Shay. He uttered a strangled scream before stumbling backwards, the chain clinking as it uncoiled, the Rottweiler’s jaws spread wide, fangs gnashing. It pulled taut a moment later, the dogs’ teeth and claws mere inches from sinking themselves into Shay, who had fallen onto his ass in the dirt.

If he hadn’t pissed himself before, I seriously doubted he hadn’t followed through now.

I chortled harshly again, shaking my head.

“Get outta here you stupid mutt,” I growled.

I cracked my knuckles before stepping in front of Shay, glowering down at the animal, eyebrow arched, almost daring it to bite me. It didn’t. It growled like it was gargling on gravel before it roamed away, looking aggravated.

“Get onto your fucking feet,” I ordered, whirling around to face Shay.

Shay did exactly as I asked, eyeing the gun in my hand warily. I’d almost forgotten it was still in my grasp. I made a point of weighing it in my hand, flashing the metal at him, fucking relishing making him feel unnerved. He looked winsome when he was nervous, his eyes wide, brow slightly furrowed, and I had to resist putting my hands and mouth all over him.

“Follow me,” I growled, encompassing his bony wrist with my fingers, yanking him towards the shack. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

He trailed after me like the subservient bitch that he was, not putting up a fight.

I tugged him over the threshold, eyeing the coach where my old man slept cautiously. He’d barely stirred, though the bottle of moonshine had fallen from his sleep-slackened grasp and was working a stain into the carpet.

The air was stale and sour on my tongue, the rancid odour that could only waft off an overlarge drunk. He was so far gone that he didn’t even twitch when Shay collided with a table, scattering beer cans onto the floor noisily.

“Ow. Shit,” Shay whispered in a panic. “I’m so-”

“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper-shouted back furiously.

I dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand to resist punching him in the fucking face for being such a moron, and set the gun down on a sideboard to resist the temptation of shooting him in the dick.

I waited and when I was sure the sound wasn’t going to rouse him, I shoved Shay in front of me, clamping my hand over his mouth because the motherfucker was practically panting.

“In here,” I said roughly, thrusting him inside my room and swinging the door shut behind us.

My bedroom was a total shithole. A wasteland of junk and cigarette butts which had charred the carpet and the bed sheets. It smelt of sweat and oil and spunk.

I glared at Shay, who was peering around the room nervously.

Now we were standing in the light, I could see Shay clearly for the first time that night, and couldn’t help but scoff at the sight before me. He wore a beige V-neck sweater, brown pants and shiny leather shoes. He looked better equipped to attend a interview at Yale fucking University, rather than getting his ass fucked by my redneck trash.

He caught me staring as he wrung his hands in front of him.

“I don’t like your clothes,” I growled scathingly. “Take them off”

Shay nodded nervously, as I threw myself onto my bed to watch the show.

He pulled his sweater up and over his head before dropping it onto the floor. Underneath he wore a crisp white shirt which he fumbled over with trembling fingers.

I couldn’t help but lean back against the sheets, unfastening my jeans before spitting on my palm and slipping my hand around my semi-hard cock, massaging my shaft while I kept my gaze trained on Shay.

He stripped until he was standing in nothing but his underwear, and I arched my eyebrow at him impatiently. He gawked at the sight of me jacking off, swallowing thickly, before dropping his boxers and stepping out of them.

For such a suburban pretty boy, Shay fucking Pierce had a good package between his legs. His cock was semi-hard, wide with a bulbous head and around 7 inches in length, though could probably reach 8 fucking inches when erect. His balls were taut and bulging.

It was a pleasant fucking surprise.

Shay looked tempted to shield his cock behind his hands but I scowled a warning at him, snarling deeply in my throat.

I stood in one fluid motion, whipping off my t-shirt and tossing it away, flexing my six-pack.

Shay wasn’t as muscular as I was, probably never having worked a day in his whole fucking life, but I greedily took my fill of the endless amount of flesh and dick on display, and it made up for him lacking certain assets.

My jeans were low of my hips, a tangle of black pubes poking out behind the fly, as I stalked closer to Shay.

When our hips collided, I tipped his head back, kissing him roughly, my tongue lashing down his throat, devouring his face with my mouth. He moaned into my mouth, neck bent backwards at an uncomfortable angle as I wrestled him into a headlock, squeezing either side of his head between my solid forearms, unwilling to relinquish control over his cherubic face.

I bucked against his cock with a snap of my hips, while he continued to whimper into my mouth like a little bitch.

His breath was hot against my face and the hands groping my waist were perspiring with nerves.

My nose jutted into his painfully, until I angled my face and swallowed his tongue.

“On your knees,” I growled at him, shoving his head down ferociously.

He complied and sunk to his knees, as I shoved my jeans off my hips, my cock bouncing to attention. I took my shaft in hand, spitting on my cock before making myself wet and slapping myself against Shay’s cheek.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I ordered, pressing the head of my cock against his lips until he opened wide. “Swallow my cock, bitch. YEAH! SWALLOW MY FUCKING COCK! THAT’S IT!”

Shay retched when I thrust down his throat, pulling off, spit dribbling from his chin in thick, stretchy ropes.

‘Don’t. Stop.’

I plunged into his mouth again, holding his head in place. He gagged when I rammed myself in and out of him, until his throat eventually opened up and allowed me to pound his face, that cherubic face which was stretched obscenely around my cock, vigorously.

“Arh! Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. Suck that cock!” I moaned, relentlessly face fucking him, barely letting him come up for air.

I groaned when my cock hit the back of his throat, my pelvic muscles contracting until my spine arched, body folding over Shay’s head as I continued to thrust into him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

Hrrk his throat gargled wetly as he choked again, his throat unintentionally working my cock, causing my whole body to jerk, a familiar pressure building inside me.

The fucking itch that had blindly consumed me was finally getting scratched.

It would be so fucking easy to release my salty load and cum right down his throat. But that would be too easy. I hadn’t been finished with Shay fucking Pierce yet. There was far more pleasure to be had before this carnality was over.

I wrench out of his throat, my dick rock solid and ram-rod straight, dripping ropes of Shay’s salvia onto the discoloured carpet at my feet. Shay eyed it as though it were a dangerous weapon. I supposed, sadistically, that it was, and I would weld it as such. Weld it dangerously when I finally impaled this virgin’s puckered sphincter.

“Bend over on the mattress,” I commanded.

Shay scrambled to his feet; pupils blown out immensely, blinking rapidly as he got onto all fours, his muscles quivering underneath his skin.

He angled his ass until his pink hairy hole was spread out before me.

Restraint wasn’t something I was usually acquainted with, but I used the morsel amount I possessed in that moment not to plunge straight inside him, opening him up and fucking him until he was filled with my load.

I didn’t, but it was so fucking close.

My thirst for that hole was licentious and obscene, my cock throbbing for penetration. To breach that tight sphincter with my wide cock, until Shay was vibrating out of his skin, groaning and whining as I stretched him open.

With those fantasies orbiting wildly around my mind - the basic, most primitive part that caused me to think with my junk and of all the places I could be sticking it - everything fell away as I approached that delicious hole, pressing my thumb against it until Shay gasped, a sharp little intake of breath as his cheeks clenched.

His puckered hole winked beneath my touch.

With a deep guttural rumble, I plunged my maw into the crack of his ass, tongue fervently lashing around his hole, burying my nose into him and inhaling the earthy, pungent fragrance, mouth watering greedily, cock jerking.

Shay made a choked exclamation, every muscle beneath his skin pulling taut, his hole squeezing tightly around the tip of my tongue that was on a verge of breaching him. His back convulsed right before I managed wedged myself inside him, the movement jerking his hips away, and my mouth was wetly torn from his ass.

“Stop squirming,” I hissed at him.

“Sorry. It felt so-’ Shay pants, whatever he was preparing to spew next died in his throat as he starts to squawk, scream and writhe in ecstasy, toes curled, hands grabbing fistfuls of bedsheets. ‘AAAAAAAARGE! OHHHHHHHHHH! FUUUUUUUUCK!’

I forced by tongue inside him, revelling as he clenched around my flexible appendage. Shay was practically trembling now. I felt it beneath the handfuls of ass I groped, long red finger marks defacing his cheeks. I wrenched him apart, spreading his cheeks wide before spitting a wad of sputum onto his hole, lubing him up before slipping a finger inside him without warning, knuckle deep. He constricted and winked his hole around me, whimpering, face buried in the mattress as his chest heaved great explosive breaths.

My rapacious hunger mounted as I gawked at the sight of my finger jerking in and out of him, Shay’s cries and moans working my carnality into a beast that reared its head and demanded more.

To stake my claim.

That beast had been lurking just beneath the surface that day Shay sucked my cock behind the shack, but now it had worked itself into a primitive frenzy and wouldn’t be satisfied.

I added another finger, stretching him open.

Shay moaned, high and loud.

I forced in another.

Shay whined.

I grunted as I stroked my cock, jerking myself off with a well trained twist of the wrist.

“You ready to be fucked, bitch?” I asked him gruffly.

Shay nodded into the mattress, a shaky jerk of the head, too het up to master his heaving lungs and speak aloud.

I spat a thick wad of spit against his ass again, wedging my knees behind his thighs and towering above him, jabbing my erect cock against his ass repeatedly, not quite breaching. Shay moaned with every trust, sounding vulnerable and pathetic, dying for my cock yet fearful of it all the same. The muscles in his back rippled and I wanted to sink my teeth into him.

“Good boy. That’s the stuff. Take it,” I growled.

I pressed into him, pushing through the resistance of his tight sphincter, blinking the sweat from my eyes as his ass swallowed the bulbous head of my cock.

“Ah... A-Ah... Ow... Hah... Oh Gunner,” Shay cries weakly.

Shay tensed up as I pushed until he was fully penetrated, writhing as I gathered his hips into my rough grasp and jerked him towards me. He grunted, his arms collapsing, crumpling onto sheets.

And then I fucked him, his tight ass clenching around my cock as though he was milking me for my load. I humped him relentlessly, fucking into him, the constrictions of his anal wall seizing my muscles, bolts of electricity arching along my spine, that familiar pressure building...

But not yet.

Not yet.

I wasn’t finished with Shay fucking Pierce yet.

I wasn’t finished.

This wasn’t over.

Shay fucking Pierce wound never forget his first fuck after I was through with him.

Shay fucking Pierce would imagine me fucking into him every time some other guy breached him.

Whatever douchbag who had him next, would never satisfy him after his first carnal fuck.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. Fuck! Fuck! FUUUUUUUUCK!” I grunted with each and every thrust.

“Oh God. Ah... A-a-Arh! Fnrghh! Arh... Ow!” Shay panted, his left arm jerking furiously between his legs.

I slapped my hands against his shoulders, grasping the tense muscles while ramming his ass down as I thrust in, fucking in tandem.

I continued to man handle him, yanking him up and slamming his hands against the wall as I grunted into his ear, working a bruise into his skin when I sunk my teeth between his neck and shoulder.

Sweat continuously dripped from my brow and streaked long, delicious trails down Shay’s pale back, pooling in the hollow before disappearing into his ass crack.

He screeched when I jerked my head upwards, teeth still sunk into his skin, blemishes blooming.

“I’m gonna cum!” Shay gasped.

I growled, knocking his hands away from his cock brutally before wrapping my hand around his throat, squeezing, his heart hammering against my fingers. I choked him. Not enough to cut off his wind pipe altogether, but powerfully enough to yank him back from the edge of ecstasy. He pants sharp little breaths, as I gripped his wrists and restrained them behind his back, finger nails denting smooth pale flesh.

“I’ll jerk you off, but first you’re going to tell me that you’re my bitch. My sub bitch!” I growled.

I tipped his head back, his neck straining, swiping my tongue across the length of his flushed cheek. The single eye that I could make out from behind him was wide, iris boring into me out of the corner of his eye. I grind my hips, rubbing against him in a circular motion, his heart tripping all over itself underneath my fingers, eyes rolling into the back of his head, wide as my cock sunk even deeper inside him, his face screwed up in a grimace. His jaw dropped open, a long moan falling from his lips as I slowly, deliberately grind and grind and grind against him. His legs shook, the soles of his feet wrinkled as they arched obscenely.

Shay was panting and moaning, but my command was yet to escape him.

He was almost catatonic with pleasure.

I jerked his head, which rocked from side to side.

“SAY IT!” I growled.

“I-I’m y-y-you’re... bitch!” he manages to bite out, groaning as I continued to grind my hips into him, stretching him wide.

I wanted to leave the motherfucker gaping.

“MORE!”

“A-a-Arh! I-I-I’m... you’re s-sub bitch!”

“KEEP GOING!”

He exhaled explosively as I thrust into him, the bulbous head of my cock colliding with his prostate before repeating the action rhythmically in a rough grind. I resisted against the urge to shoot my load, our bodies seizing as one.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuck!” Shay pants, head jerking with each and every pounding I inflicted upon him. “Arh! M-my ass i-is... y-y-yours.”

“WHENEVER I WANT? YOU’RE AT MY BECK AND CALL, LIKE THE SUB BITCH YOU ARE?”

I pushed into him hard, a violent buck of the hips. He gasped as I impaled him, his whole body seizing up as I maintained the pressure against his prostrate, small wounded noises emitting from him.

He was so fucking tight.

He clenched around me and winced, trembling with the need to cum.

“W-whenever y-you want, Gunner. I s-swear. P-p-please fuck me! P-p-please touch me! P-p-please finish me off!” the sub bitch begged, before breathlessly chanting, incoherent, dazed as he lingered helplessly on the edge of climax at my mercy. ‘I need... I need... I need.’

“I know what you need!” I grunted.

I wrenched out of him before plunging back in, his anus forced apart, gripping my cock between his ass cheeks. He grunted with every harsh thrust, tremoring. My rough hands pulled on his solid cock mercilessly, his pelvic muscles bracing as the sounds that fell from his lips got louder and higher, ass popping so I could slam against it at a better angle.

I owned him then.

Owned control of his pleasure and exactly when he’d have it.

We slid against each other, the slaps of our connection moist and obscene, as I flattened my front against his back, fucking in, fucking in, fucking in.

He lasted three more tugs before he started to spew his thick load, chest heaving, every muscle in his body constricting as he moaned and whimpered, jerking uncontrollably. I sunk my teeth into his neck, working on another bruise, grinding against him. He lasted longer than I expected him to, clutched in the throes of a full body orgasm which sunk its claws into him and refused to let him resurface.

Shay ejaculated rope after rope, a long exclamation of pleasure uttered breathlessly, before he doubled over, exhausted as he panted into the mattress, ass in the air shamelessly. The tension in his shoulders had been ironed out, and he jerked uncontrollably beneath me, laying on top of his wet mess.

“Fuuuuuuuck! That was... that was...” Shay pants, lost in the aftermath of his orgasm.

“My turn!” I grunted.

I fucked him within an inch of his life, and he took it like the little subservient bitch I moulded him into, whimpering as I bucked wildly, the heels of my palms pressing savagely into the small of his back as I propelled him down, onto my cock. That pressure was there, at the base of my spine, and it washed over me before taking me into its grasp. I arched over him, sweat pouring from my shaggy hair in streams now, as something electrifying got its teeth into me, the harsh ramming I was inflicting upon Shay becoming harder and quicker. My brow furrowed, the pressure built, built, built, then right when it reached its highest peek, I came, grunting harshly, shooting spunk into Shay’s tight asshole, ejaculating with the force of a gunshot.

Rope after rope filled him up.

He gasped, my hot load blooming in his asshole.

I fixed my hard stare on the sight of my cock pounding him.

“FUCK, YEAH. FUCK YEAH. ARH! FUUUUUUUUCK!” I groaned, shooting my last rope inside him.

I collapsed on top of him, panting against his back, softening inside him before relishing the sensation of the cum pouring out of his asshole and dripping down my hairy thighs, hot and thick.

I relinquished ownership of his throbbing asshole by pulling out of him, Shay still jerking involuntary movements as his climax ebbed away.

Afterwards, we lay together, sprawled on my uncomfortable, spunk-stained mattress, heavy and spent from our sweaty carnality. Shay had fallen asleep within minutes, despite the pain in his ravaged asshole that was leaking cum onto my sheets. I glowered at the vulnerable pretty boy besides me well into the night, intending to fuck him awake the next morning.

Back then I was oblivious to the fact that Shay fucking Pierce would sink his claws into me during the coming weeks.

Shay fucking Pierce would get under my skin, slip beneath my cleverly constructed walls that I thought were indestructible.

I hadn’t meant to fall hard for the dick.

But I did.

And then he fucking broke me. Broke the parts of me that had miraculously remained in tact after my shitty nineteen years.

My secret heart cracked, only a hairline fracture at first, as I lay in that fucking hospital bed, bruised and battered, skin recently brought back together with stitches, spitting curses at Shay Pierce as he stood at my bedside, but then the pressure mounting inside me exploded. It was inevitable, I saw that now, because pressure against a hairline fracture only ended in one way.

It shatters.

My heart shattered, pieces like shrapnel buried beneath my skin, burning like the ball of anger that seared inside my chest.

Twenty years later and that anger still writhed and burned murderously bright, not quite painful because I was numb, so fucking numb, and then Shay fucking Pierce stepped foot back in Wyoming, the boy he was a distant memory, replaced by a 6-foot burly and broad-shouldered Sheriff, emblazoned cowboy hat sat atop his dirty blonde head, a seven-point badge that he’d chased after so blindly all those years ago, fixed to his chest.

And he wanted me back. I saw that in his crinkled blue eyes as he eyed me up and down on the sidewalk. The fucker was taller than me now and I loathed to raise my chin to meet his gaze. That fucking arrogant gaze. He had the audacity to look composed and bullish and mildly fucking curious. I ground my teeth together, as ferociously as I had ground into his ass all those years ago. My raged boiled over when he smiled that crooked smile, like I wasn’t that roughneck who fucked his virginity into pieces.

He needed a reminder of his fucking place.

This smug version of Shay Pierce might be rougher and broader but he was still the trembling teenager who begged me to finish him off, who begged me to touch him, who begged me to fuck him, as he gave me his ass.

I cracked my knuckles, fist balling before I wiped that smile off Shay’s face when my fist connected with his jaw. He grunted, striking the ground hard. Anger was cascading from me, an almost palpable thing, dark and twisted and thrumming underneath my skin.

He was a cop, a fucking pig, a Sheriff, flat on his ass and at my feet, right where he belonged.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY!” I growled. “UNLESS YOU WANT THE BARREL OF MY GUN DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT!”

I spat a thick wad of spit onto the ground, near his army boots, and tried not to remember doing exactly that on his tight pink asshole when we’d fucked.

“It’s not the only thing I’ll have down my throat, if I have my way. And I’ll have my way. That’s a promise, Gunner Guillebeaux,” Shay Pierce grunted arrogantly, a purple bruise already surfacing on the arch of his jaw, and then he dealt my words back to me, words I’d promised many moons ago, which landed like a punch to the chest. “You’re marked for the taking.”

He smiled again; the crookedness replaced with a sharp thing that flashed bloodied teeth.

Before I attempted to murder the fucker, I stalked away, ignoring the stares and whispers about the roughneck Guillebeaux fucking up the new Sheriff.

Before I rounded the corner, migrating home, bottle of moonshine clutched in my fist in a crinkled brown paper bag, Shay fucking Pierce yelled-

“THIS ISN’T OVER, GUNNER!”

And God how I hated to admit he was right.

To be continued...

Authors note - Dangerous Chemistry is my first erotica. Comments will pretty much be my life! I'm planning on adding another chapter soon. I'm not finished with Gunner and Shay yet. The dominantor is going to get dominanted!