Page 99 of Devil May Lie

“Now you ask?” Berga’s voice was steady.

There’d been no way for him to know the Butcher was familiar with hoverbikes, let alone this good at navigating one. He’d never so much as seen the other man riding around on the back of someone else's, let alone driving on his own. This was definitely a case of his hubris getting the best of him.

And here he’d thought he’d have an excuse to comfort Berga and make him feel better afterward. Turned out, he was the one who was going to need “comforting”. He almost laughed. Actually, recalling their changed stakes, this might not be so bad after all. He could still show Berga what his mouth was made of. If they’d still been racing for the right to publicly announce their relationship, he might have felt pressured and upset about this potential loss.

“You tricked me.” They were more than halfway through the course now, and it was clear Madden was going to have to pick things up if he wanted to win. “Why are you so good at this?”

It was…

Sexy as hell.

“Want me to slow down for you?” Berga teased.

“No, keep going, baby,” he let out a low whistle, “I don’t mind the view from back here.”

In response, Berga seemed to stick his ass out even more. “That’s good, because you’ll be seeing more of it later.”

“Telling me you’re going to have me take you from behind?” Madden grinned, excitement already bubbling through him. “Can’t say no to that tight body of yours.”

“If you tried, I’d—”

“Melt my entrails,” he interrupted, “yeah, yeah. I got you, baby.”

The Butcher won.

Madden pulled to a stop next to him, having only lost by a few centimeters. He was grinning like a madman when he pulled his helmet off. “Where did you learn to ride?”

Berga removed his helmet and then slipped off the bike. “Kazimir and I used to a lot when we were younger. Baikal thought maybe it would help if I had somewhere else to put my energy that wasn’t studying or a lab.”

“Did it?”

He shrugged. “It didn’t hurt. Does riding help you with your problems?”

“It helps me clear my head,” Madden said. “So, in a way, yes. Come on.”

He led them into the nearest garage, making sure their bikes were properly stowed. That distracted him long enough for the Butcher to shut and lock all of the doors, and by the time he turned back around and realized, the man was already halfway out of his clothing.

“What are you doing?” Madden asked, though it was fairly obvious.

“Winner gets to choose how it’s done,” Berga reminded, tossing everything and straightening to face him completely in the nude. His dick was already semi-hard, as though the anticipation alone was turning him on. “I want it done there.”

Madden quirked a brow when he pointed toward one of the somewhat rusted metal benches against the far wall.

“I want you to work on me,” Berga stated, walking backward toward it. “Pretend I’m one of your broken machines. I could be a busted sex robot who needs a finetuning.” He planted his palms on the edge and lifted himself onto the table in a move coyer than Madden was aware he was capable of.

“A bet’s a bet,” he drawled, pulling off his gloves. He took his time with it, stripping out of his outfit teasingly, liking the way Berga’s gaze tracked every motion he made as he drew nearer. “But we’ve been over this already. You aren’t a robot, baby.”

“What am I then?”

“You’re my Mad Scientist.” He pushed his pants and boxers down, exposing his hard cock. “And I’m your Mad King.”

“That so?” Berga spread his legs, smirking devilishly while Madden moved in between them and danced his fingers up his thighs.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Look down and see for yourself.” Berga was at full mast now and already leaking for him.

“Tell me anyway,” Madden insisted. “I want to hear you say it.”

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