Page 18 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Without looking at him directly, only catching his eye in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor bottles, Bobby nodded. “Fair enough.” He threw back his drink and set the glass down on the polished wood counter. “You come here often?”

Laughing out loud, Tommy teased, “That’s your best line? I hope to hell you’re here on some undercover mission.”

Bobby cast him a sideways glance. “I’m not. And that wasn’t a line. I was just curious since I’ve never seen you in here before.”

Well. There you have it, folks. Tommy took a moment to process the new information, but his cock seemed to understand much faster, growing hard in his jeans and getting hopeful. “You know almost as well as I do that I don’t get out much.” He was curious now and cursing himself for it. “What about you?”

Bobby glanced at him again, wetting his full lips before he spoke. “Couple times a month.” He said the words like he was confessing a sin, and Tommy had to check himself. There was a burst of something hot and unwanted burning in the pit of his stomach. Jealousy? Really? It was ridiculous and he knew it. Bobby helped tamp down the spreading fire by adding, “There’s this guy I’ve been hanging out with a lot lately, but I wasn’t sure if he’s gay.”

Working his tight throat around a hard swallow, Tommy told him, “Maybe he’s been wondering the same thing about you.”

Bobby turned to look at him then, leaning on the bar and smiling. “A guy can hope.” When Tommy didn’t respond to that, Bobby asked, “Seriously, though, what was your business in here?”

Tommy heard a note of concern over the curiosity, and he hated himself for wanting to tell Bobby all of it. He knew Bobby wouldn’t be able to look the other way, and if he did, it would gnaw at Bobby and at their friendship before long. He hated that most of all, hated knowing how unlikely they were together, how bad of an idea it was. It pissed him off, and he let it out in his tone when he responded. “You’re not my PO, Bobby. If you trust me at all, trust that you don’t wanna know every detail about my fuckin’ life or what I have to do sometimes to get by, okay?”

That got a contemptuous glare from Bobby, and Tommy could see him tense before he bit out an answer. “Are you shitting me?” Bobby pulled out his wallet and paid their bar tab, slapping the money down so hard his palm probably stung afterward. “You think I’m just, what? Being nosy? You think I ever forget that I’m not allowed into the private dealings of Tommy O’Shea? Or that you live every day with more shit on your plate than most people have to deal with in a lifetime?”

He was jerking away, more angry than Tommy had ever seen him. It looked like he was going to turn and walk out, but instead Bobby stepped closer, aggressive, powerful despite having to look up an inch or two to see Tommy’s face as he snarled, “If you still think I’m just some overprotective do-gooder and all I want is to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, then fuck you, Tommy.”

It was the fierceness of the words and the way his body brushed against Tommy’s. It was the unrestrained heat and maybe even the look of hurt in Bobby’s eyes when he spoke. Tommy couldn’t help it, couldn’t think clearly enough to stop himself. He knew he should have pushed Bobby away, turned around, and locked Bobby out of his life for good, but instead he fisted his hand into the front of Bobby’s shirt and pulled him into a biting kiss.

That first touch of their lips together wasn’t full of romance and tender want. It was animal attraction and need, fury combined with longing, and it made something explode inside of Tommy. When Bobby groaned into his mouth, Tommy opened up for more, slid his free hand down Bobby’s back, and pressed their hips together.

In that moment, surrounded by onlookers, people dancing and laughing, drinks being sipped and sloshed in the throng, Tommy and Bobby might as well have been alone. All Tommy was aware of was the feel of Bobby’s body, the warmth, the strength, and the sensation of his own tongue as it slid against Bobby’s teeth into the slick heat of his mouth.

They were breathless when they pulled apart, and Bobby still looked like he was spoiling for a fight, a wild glint in his eyes. Tommy wondered if maybe Bobby thought it was a bad idea too, an idea so bad it could only have a tragic ending. Or at the very least, end with Bobby’s career in the toilet. There was no guessing what it would be, but something was certainly going to die if they decided to let this relationship live.

Bobby worked his jaw like he was trying to chew glass, but eventually he said, “Let’s go.”

The words were part challenge and part plea, and Tommy answered both by taking Bobby’s hand and pulling him roughly toward the exit.

Bobby had taken a cab to the club. They didn’t bother with playful gropes and quick kisses on the way to Tommy’s car. Both of them had their eyes set on a single goal, and Tommy knew if he let himself touch Bobby again, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

At least the drive was short and mercifully silent. He chanced a few glances at Bobby at the traffic lights and stop signs, but neither of them made eye contact. It felt more like going into battle or walking into a boxing ring than driving home for a nice long fuck with the guy you’d been wanting for months. Years, if he were being honest.

Tommy had to wonder if Bobby saw it the same way. Given the look of concentration on Bobby’s face, he figured he was close to the mark, if not dead center.

They kept a safe distance on their way into the house. Tommy didn’t need gossip flying around, and Bobby seemed to understand without being told. The windows were dark, most of the lights out, and it was late enough he was sure the kids were in bed.

After a few fumbles with his keys, Tommy finally got the door open, and they both slipped inside. He closed the door on the outside world and let himself breathe for what felt like the first time since Bobby had offered to buy him a drink. He stood facing the front door, resisting the urge to rest his forehead on it and give himself a moment to consider his next move, when Bobby stepped closer. Tommy’s chest constricted when he felt Bobby’s hand on his waist.

Tommy turned slowly. They looked at each other for a long moment, their faces barely visible in the soft glow of the single light left on down the hall. Neither spoke or attempted to get closer. They simply looked at each other, suspended there in the space between right and wrong, the space between bliss and disaster. Tommy wasn’t sure of much, but he did know this was going to end badly, however it went down. He felt a surge of anger and bitterness in his throat as he cursed his life, cursed Bobby’s too. In another world they could have met in high school, played around, maybe even stayed together afterward. But here and now Bobby was just an innocent bystander in Tommy’s train wreck he called a life.

The tension in the room was rising so far and so fast it was palpable. Tommy let all that anger and all that resentment—all the fear—rise up with it. He pulled Bobby into a kiss so hard and so fierce it felt like a punishment.

Bobby surprised the hell out of him by meeting it with the same uncontrolled force, the two of them practically grappling together in the entryway. They grabbed each other frantically, tore at each other’s clothes, and fought for dominance.

Tommy let his teeth scrape so sharply against Bobby’s lip he knew it had to hurt, but Bobby didn’t pull back. Instead he dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder and bit down. He caught the sensitive skin of Tommy’s neck. A small sound escaped the back of Tommy’s throat as an intense thrill jumped through him. He was sure Bobby had left a mark on him that would sting for days.

He finally pulled back to look at Bobby. Their eyes met before Tommy kissed him again. Both of them were breathless when Tommy dragged him up the stairs to his bedroom.

Tommy’s room had been a large linen closet in another life. With barely enough space for his double bed, he had to cram the nightstand between it and the wall. He didn’t have a window or a dresser, just an exposed bulb in the ceiling and a private place to lay his head at night.

Once Tommy closed the door, he whispered roughly, “Gotta be quiet.”

Bobby didn’t say anything, but he stepped closer, jerking Tommy down into another kiss. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t tainted with the same brutality as earlier. Bobby threaded his fingers into Tommy’s hair and tugged just enough for Tommy to part his lips with a quick breath. Bobby took advantage and slid his tongue into Tommy’s mouth easily, as if that had been his plan all along.

The two of them met in the middle for the first time that night, giving and taking in equal measure as they pressed together in the claustrophobic space.

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