2. He’s An Ex-Con?!

2

HE’S AN EX-CON?!

“I heard that Troy’s brother moved in,” Evan said later that evening.

Niall jerked his head up. “Troy’s brother?”

His own alpha brother raised an amused eyebrow. “Jag Gardner? Remember me telling you he just got out of jail, and he’s moving in next door?”

Niall blinked rapidly. Before Evan had gotten together with Troy Gardner and Landon Lickerman, he’d grumbled a lot about his unrequited crush on Troy, who was his fellow assistant coach at Meadowfall College. Evan’s grumbling about Troy had spanned several months, and Niall had developed the bad habit of tuning him out.

That was probably how he’d missed Evan telling him the very important news about their new neighbor.

Which was now coming back to bite him in the ass.

“He’s an ex-con?” Niall squeaked. “Why are you not jumping down his throat about it?!”

Because Evan used to be protective, before Niall’s kidnapping. After Niall had been freed, Evan had become suffocatingly overprotective, hanging around and researching all the people Niall spoke to on the internet. Heck, if Niall had any video calls with anyone, Evan made sure to hover in the background, just to give others the idea that Niall had an alpha watching over him all the time.

Evan’s hovering had eased when he’d gotten involved with his alpha and omega, although he’d been reluctant to move out of the house they shared—until he’d found someone else to keep an eye on Niall.

Apparently, that person was Jag Gardner.

Evan gave a lopsided smile. “Troy told me his circumstances. He won’t hurt you.”

“What did he go to jail for?”

Evan’s smile grew. “Ask him yourself.”

Niall paled. “No!”

Except Evan waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t you want to know? It could be a book idea.”

Niall was always grateful that his brother supported his writing career, except for times like now, when Evan went straight for his weakness. “You can’t do that to me. You said you’d growl at all the alphas before they even looked in my direction!”

“Jag has Troy’s seal of approval,” Evan said dryly. “And you know I’m not just trusting him because he’s my alpha. Troy used to be a secret agent. He’s a pro at assessing threats and motivations. So he’s not kidding when he says you can trust Jag.”

“Is he going to be home all day, every day?”

“Jag’s gonna be fixing up his house. So yeah, he’ll probably be around most of the time, for now.”

Niall bit his lip. That was something even his own brother couldn’t do; Evan’s job was at Meadowfall College, and he was gone for several hours a day, six days a week. For Evan’s scary brother-in-law to be around almost all day, a house away...

Niall couldn’t deny that it reassured him.

He mentally rearranged his priorities: Keep his office curtains shut all the time, because the last thing he wanted was for Jag to catch him spying.

Not that Niall was going to spy on him again. Nope.

He definitely wasn’t going to lurk next to any windows for more glimpses of That Bulge.

He didn’t need that kind of inspiration.

“I’m still mad at you,” Niall said.

Evan smirked. “Jag will be around more than I will. I’m gonna officially move out.”

Evan had already been staying over at Troy’s mansion several nights a week, but now that he wouldn’t be around anymore... It would give Niall a lot more freedom, since his smut-writing hours would no longer be restricted to whenever his brother wasn’t home.

This would give him a lot more options on where he could jerk off, too.

“I can’t wait for you to move out,” Niall said.

Evan laughed. “I’ll be holding my breath on your updates.”

“Neo—apostrophe S—bedroom looked directly into Konan—apostrophe S. Period,” Niall said into his microphone the next morning, watching as the words and punctuation appeared on his open manuscript. “Neo had not realized it until he looked out of the window and saw Konan taking off his shirt. Period.”

Niall squirmed in his seat, blushing.

Over the years, he’d gotten over the awkwardness of reading aloud every scene and punctuation mark. With his hands mostly useless, there was no way he could write without a dictation software to turn his spoken words into text.

Sex scenes were the most embarrassing, which was why he couldn’t write them if Evan was home.

Evan wasn’t home now, though.

And Niall was half-hard in his pants, imagining himself as Neo in this very scene. Jag was Konan, the next door neighbor who had no qualms about taking off his clothes in front of his open window, unknowingly providing a striptease.

Konan did not stop there, Niall continued to write. In fact, he loosened his belt and pushed down his pants, his muscles flexing as he straightened. Neo froze as his neighbor’s bare body was suddenly on display, his hefty cock hanging between his legs. It was much bigger than he’d expected.

Niall tipped his head back and stifled a moan. He’d already jerked off three times yesterday, trying to get Jag out of his mind. Except this scene was making him wet again.

The loud drone of a machine started up somewhere outside. Niall jumped and tensed, before he recognized it as a non-threatening sound.

Eager for a break, he hurried to the window, nudging the edge of his curtain so he could peek out.

Jag was in his own backyard, pushing a lawn mower through the very tall grass. He was shirtless again today, wearing a light blue pair of sweatpants, and—

The thickness in his pants swayed with every step.

Niall’s mouth went dry. Jag had both his hands on the handlebar of his mower, leaving the view of his hips completely unobstructed. It was hypnotic, the way his cock moved. It was so big. So thick.

Was he allergic to underwear?

“I shouldn’t be staring,” Niall told himself. But... “This is research.”

He watched Jag mow his entire backyard, before turning off the lawn mower and pushing it into his shed. As he stepped out, Jag cupped himself through his sweatpants; his tip pressed indecently against the fabric and stretched it a little. Niall moaned.

As though he wasn’t in full view, Jag rubbed his thumb over his tip, the corner of his mouth twitching as he looked down.

Was he... growing hard? He looked like he was.

Jag released himself and pushed his hand down the front of his pants, giving himself two long, slow tugs.

“Oh, gods.” Niall couldn’t even breathe.

Jag disappeared into his house and didn’t step out again.

Niall waited to see if the alpha would appear in one of the windows facing him, but Jag didn’t.

With his pulse throbbing between his legs, Niall staggered back to his desk and sat down heavily, his underwear soaked through with slick.

Konan was tugging on his cock even before he’d reached his bed, unaware that Neo was watching him from his darkened window. He flopped face-down onto the mattress and wrapped both hands around his cock, his hips rolling sinfully as he fucked into his fists, deep and slow like he would with an omega.

Neo pressed himself against the wall, humping it. His fingers were too stiff to properly grasp his own cock; the pressure from the wall wasn’t quite enough. He needed Konan’s cock stretching him open, he needed it buried deep in his body, filling him up.

Yeah, so maybe Niall’s mouth had slipped, and he’d accidentally given Neo his own disabilities. But it made everything about this book real, in a way his other books hadn’t been.

Niall shoved his hands behind his chair so he could focus on writing. By the time he’d wrapped up the scene, with Jag—no, Konan—shooting come all over himself, he was breathing roughly, and he was achingly hard.

He could take a bit of time for himself before moving on to the next scene. There wasn’t anyone around to stop him.

It was just... Things were difficult, when your hands were giant blocks of uselessness that couldn’t grasp a dildo.

Niall went into his bedroom and knelt next to his bed, pulling out his box of toys. There was one dildo that was his favorite, a veiny, flesh-colored silicone thing that stretched him perfectly.

He scooped it out with his stiff, curved fingers and attached its base to a double-sided suction cup, before shoving off his pants and briefs. Then he went to the bathroom, where the shower tiles made strange, popping sounds.

The white grout was falling off around some of the tiles. Niall couldn’t fix them, and Evan didn’t have time to.

He shoved the other side of the suction cup onto a tile at hip level. With his hands cupped around the dildo’s tip, Niall backed himself onto it. He imagined it was Jag’s big cock pushing against his entrance, sliding over it. His body grew hot; he spread his legs and lifted his hips, sinking onto that length in one smooth thrust.

It stretched him full to bursting. Niall whimpered and closed his eyes, rocking himself back and forth. The dildo—Jag’s cock—felt so good inside him. He braced his wrists on the opposite wall and pushed all the way down, until his ass hit the dildo’s silicone balls, and his eyes rolled back.

Actually... Was Jag bigger than this? He was, wasn’t he? Niall bit his lip and pulled forward, before sinking back down that length.

This wasn’t as good as the scenes in his books, where the omegas were held down and fucked roughly.

Deep down, Niall wanted to be held down and fucked, too. But that involved having an alpha he could trust, and... Where would he even find an alpha like that?

He imagined Jag big and hard behind him, watching him with those sharp eyes, his hands coming up to play with Niall’s nipples. He would suck on Niall’s throat and kiss his shoulder, maybe tug on Niall’s cock as his own rubbed against Niall’s prostate—

Niall must’ve been pounding back too hard against the wall.

With horrible popping sounds, the shower tiles came tumbling down behind him. They shattered around his feet in a horrifying cacophony.

The dildo slipped out of his hole.

The next thing he knew, his precious toy smashed onto the ceramic shards.

Niall stopped breathing. Silicone did not play nice with sharp things. He carefully crouched and picked up his dildo, only to freeze when he found its side split open.

“Oh, gods.” His heart clenched. He wasn’t an expert on silicone. But if a toy ran the risk of splitting further, he shouldn’t use it anymore. He couldn’t risk having it come apart inside him.

There was no way in hell Niall would voluntarily step into a hospital.

But that was his favorite toy.

His throat tight, Niall stumbled out of the bathroom. He only realized he was wailing when he fell gracelessly into his office chair, fumbling with his single-button mouse to open a search page.

He carefully pecked the name of the dildo into the search bar because he needed to buy a replacement immediately—

It was no longer in production.

Niall began wailing for real then, big ugly tears rolling down his cheeks. He shoved his tongue against the edge of his lower dentures and felt it wriggle—it only deepened the hollow in his chest.

He was twenty-two. He had ruined hands, no teeth, too many scars, and now his favorite toy had died on him.

Why did all the bad things keep happening? Which alpha would want him? Why was he even thinking about alphas?

He pulled his feet onto his office chair and sobbed into his knees, wallowing in self-pity.

When he ran out of tears, he scrubbed his face dry. He stared at the results of his fruitless search.

He had other toys. Some of them were a similar size and shape as his favorite, just that they didn’t work as well with his hands.

But if he had an extra set of hands...

“What if I put out an ad?” Niall murmured. He didn’t visit it much, but he knew there was a notice board at the Wine Shack, a bar in downtown Meadowfall that people could post notices on.

He didn’t have to reveal his identity, or give out his phone number. He could create a new email account just for this. He didn’t even have to pick anyone at all.

More determined now, Niall opened a new document and fumbled with his mouse, creating a plain ad with huge words.

Wanted: An alpha to help me move a toy back and forth. Repeatedly.

Hi. I am an omega who needs some help cleaning out my ‘pipes’. I’m looking for a good and respectable alpha who can lend me his hands for a while. No talking necessary, but if you do, please be kind.

I will provide the toy in question. Payment negotiable.

Niall sent it to the printer and waited until it spat out the page. He walked over and stared at the ad, his heart thumping.

When would he go to the Wine Shack? He couldn’t even leave the house most days unless it was with Evan, to go grocery shopping.

Maybe when Evan came home...?

Niall left the ad on the printer and went to clean up the mess in the bathroom. He scooped up the tiles one by one and painstakingly stacked them outside the shower. His favorite dildo, he wrapped up in some TP and brought it back to his bedroom.

It had served him well for years. He couldn’t just throw it away. Maybe he could keep it around, and measure its dimensions for a new toy?

Niall didn’t text his brother about the broken tiles, though. Evan would see the damage when he came home; he still had a lot of belongings to move out. So there was no point in texting him now and embarrassing them both.

Except Evan didn’t come home.

Evan

I’m staying over at Troy’s for the week, call me if you need help urgently

Over the next week, Niall saw neither hide nor hair of his brother. The ad sat on his printer. Each time he passed it, his confidence shrank a little.

Did he really want to face a stranger, and explain why he had all these scars on his body? Did he really want someone gawking at his deformed hands, and the numbers burned into his skin? They would ask how it had happened; Niall knew they would.

By the end of two weeks, Niall cringed whenever he saw the ad.

It would be easier not to have a one night stand. He had his daily spying routines down to a science now, anyway.

Every morning, Jag would wake at an ungodly hour to run. Niall never knew what time he woke; all he knew was that the alpha returned at roughly 7AM, sweat glistening on his arms and chest, his alpha parts wrapped snugly in underwear inside his sweatpants.

Jag would disappear into his house for a shower. Niall had tried to peek, but Jag’s bathroom wasn’t visible from Niall’s windows.

Instead, Niall took that time to wash his own face, and pour himself some milk.

Twenty minutes after Jag got home, he would emerge from his back door and sit at the little table on his back porch, accompanied by a mug of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He would watch the birds and squirrels, and looked utterly relaxed.

When he was done with his breakfast, Jag would work on his house—something outdoors early in the day, like clearing out the weeds and overgrown bushes, or fixing the roof and window trims. When it got warmer out, Jag would retreat indoors. Sometimes he rolled out full wheelbarrows of construction debris, other times he’d haul in new materials from his truck.

In the evenings, Jag would take another shower, and he’d sit on his front porch, nursing a glass of pink wine as he nodded at the neighbors walking their dogs.

Sometimes, the dogs came running up to him. He’d always get on the lawn and tussle with the ones that wanted to play, making their tails wag before they took off with their owners.

In his daily life, Jag seemed... calm. Relaxed. Maybe a little lonely.

The more Niall watched him in secret, the more he learned about that alpha.

Jag Gardner was a good person. He liked animals, and he didn’t seem to have anyone else in his life.

Well, he didn’t seem to have any children or omegas in his life. He had alpha friends, and an alpha brother who had stopped by once—Troy was busy with his family, too.

Niall’s only regret was that he hadn’t caught a glimpse of Jag stroking himself to completion.

He had a rapidly-progressing romance with fake-Jag in his book, though. Sometimes Niall felt a tiny bit guilty about it. Neo had ventured out of his house and spoken to Konan a few times. Each time, Konan raked his gaze appreciatively over Neo’s body. He’d begun touching Neo here and there—his shoulder, his arm, his hip.

Niall couldn’t wait for Jag—book-Jag—to touch him with intent, to touch him in the places he needed it most.

Soon. Book-Jag would hold him down and fuck him really soon.

For now, book-Jag would flirt with Neo, drag his gaze down Neo’s body, and dream about taking him apart.

That was the writing goal for today, anyway.

Niall shivered in anticipation, settling at his desk to write.

Someone rang the doorbell.

Niall startled and swore. “I just sat down!”

He stood from his chair, perking up when he heard the rumble of a truck driving away.

He looked through the peephole, then cracked the door open and found a box on the porch, addressed to him.

“My books are here!”

The box was heavy. He kicked it into the house, locked all three deadbolts on the front door, and carefully retrieved the utility knife Evan had modified for him.

The knife had a red plastic ball fused with its push button. With his toes on the flat of the knife, away from its opening, Niall used his other foot to push its blade out. He sat on a nearby chair for balance and grabbed the knife with his toes, clumsily slicing through the tape on the box.

His heart sank when he lifted the cardboard flaps.

The paperbacks had been packed haphazardly. They’d all slid around in transit; some had bent covers, which were hopefully still salvageable. But there were a few with devastating rips across the books’ sides, like they’d been mauled by a mountain lion.

Why had the printing company sent these? They weren’t fit to be mailed to a reader.

With a great sigh, Niall balanced his phone on the corner of his desk so its camera pointed downward. He shoved a small table under the phone, and placed a ruined book on top of it.

He slipped his left arm into a modified arm brace—there were two elastic hoops for his forearm to slide into, and a sturdy stick attached to both.

With his stick, Niall held open the book’s ruined pages and took a few pictures.

He repeated the process for all three affected books. Then he opened the printing company’s customer support page, started an online chat, and sent them the pictures.

Customer support took forever to reply. Then again, Niall took forever to type, too, because he had to dictate every punctuation mark in his sentences.

But finally, finally, the printing company assured him that they would send replacements.

And they wanted him to throw away the ruined paperbacks.

“I’m sorry,” Niall told his books as he gathered them into his arms. “You did not deserve this fate.”

When he passed the ad on his printer, he paused.

If he found someone willing to give him a good fucking...

No, he wasn’t going to meet someone from the Wine Shack. It was too risky. He’d had enough of strangers for a lifetime.

Niall slid the ad into one of his books so it wouldn’t flutter off, before heading to the kitchen to grab the piled-up bags of takeout containers.

The trash can was horribly full when he lifted the lid. In fact, it barely closed after he’d shoved in his takeout bags. Dragging the trash cans to the street used to be Evan’s chore, except he’d put it off until last week, and then he hadn’t come home.

Niall sighed. He couldn’t really blame his brother though—Landon had given birth to triplets, and they were such a handful, Evan barely even had time to sleep these days.

Trash collection was in two days. Niall would figure out how to get the trash cans to the street when the time came.

Just that it was really heavy, even before his books went in.

With a final apologetic goodbye, he set his books on top of the takeout boxes and went back into his house.