In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

Trin

Quickly he crosses the kitchen, weaving through the chore girls busy with dinner. He holds his hands out so they can see the grease up to his elbows and won’t ask him to help. His mind is on one thing, and one thing only. Gerrick. He’s so sure the gunner’s in his room right this moment waiting for him that he has to choke back the urge to call out that he’s coming. There’s a pull in his stride from the way his hard cock rubs into his jeans. Oh jeez am I ever.


He takes the staircase two steps at a time and he’s halfway upstairs when he hears the whap-whapof the kitchen door swinging shut. No, he prays, his feet faltering. Don’t let it be—


Blain’s voice is like a stone wall in front of him and he stops. 


He stares into the darkness of the stairwell, up the last few steps, so close…


Clearing his throat, Trin looks straight ahead and calls out, “I have to get cleaned up, Blain. I’ll be right down.”


Chapter 13