“Reminds me of an old nursery rhyme,” Dylan said under his breath as he stepped out of the house to face a damp and foggy early morning. “Although I doubt I’ll run into a man dressed in leather.” Carefully, he eased the door closed, making certain it locked.
Shivering, he drew his jacket tightly around him, pulling the collar up. If anyone was watching, they’d assume he was shielding against the weather when he ducked his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he walked away. They would have been half right.
When he got to the corner of the block, he straightened up, resisting the temptation to look back before striding toward the parking garage where he’d left his car after—on a whim the previous evening—deciding to stop at a club he used to frequent. The last person he’d expected to run into there was his ex.
* * * *
“Dylan, is it really you?” Tommy said when Dylan turned to see who had tapped his shoulder.
Chuckling, Dylan replied, “Last I checked it’s me. What are you doing here?”
Tommy took that as an invitation to pull out the chair beside Dylan and sit. “I bought a house. Only a couple of blocks away, actually.”
“Good for you,” Dylan replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He’d liked Tommy when they were first a couple, but the man was too possessive—always wanting to know where Dylan was and who he was with when they weren’t together. That didn’t sit well with Dylan so he’d finally ended the relationship.
“You have to come see it. You’ll love it.”
“Maybe some other time.”
“Dyl, come on. What can it hurt?” Tommy paused to order a gin and tonic when a waiter appeared. “You want another…whatever that is?” Tommy asked, pointing to Dylan’s almost empty glass.
“What the hell. Sure. Scotch on the rocks,” he replied. If he had to put up with Tommy, he figured he might as well get something in return. “Why did you move from your condo? I thought you liked it,” he asked.
“I did, but I decided I wanted more privacy.” He winked at Dylan. “So anyway, what’s new with you? It’s been, what, six months since I last talked to you.”
“Yep. Nothing new. I’m still at the hotel. Still living in the same apartment.”
“With a new boyfriend?”
Dylan chuckled. “Nope. I’m steering clear of commitments for the time being.”
“Because you miss me.”
“Not really, other than the sex.”
“Well that was…demeaning,” Tommy grumbled, taking a sip of his drink, which the waiter had set in front of him.
“Sorry.” Dylan eyed him. Tommy had been good in bed. Damned good, actually. It was the rest of it that made being with him untenable in the end. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
Tommy just nodded, tossing back half his drink in one gulp. For a few minutes they sat in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Tommy said, sounding wistful, “I miss the sex.”
“You haven’t found someone new? I’ll admit I’m surprised.”
“I’ve had a few hook-ups, but none of them were you.”
“Tommy, don’t go there. Okay?”
“Couldn’t we…? Would you at least come home with me tonight?” Tommy squeezed Dylan’s thigh then inched his hand upward.
For a moment Dylan was tempted to push the questing hand away. Then his libido kicked in as he remembered sex with Tommy. “Let’s finish our drinks and then…what the hell. Why not?”
Three hours later, Dylan hugged Tommy after coming down from an explosive orgasm. “You’re still one of the best lovers I’ve had,” he whispered, nipping Tommy’s earlobe.
“I aim to please,” Tommy replied with a smile before kissing Dylan hungrily. “I only wish…”
“Don’t go there,” Dylan said sharply. “It’s over. It has been for half a year.”
Tommy sat up, looking down at Dylan, a sly smile on his lips. “Maybe you’ll reconsider. I found out something about you. Something I doubt your bosses would approve of.”
That caught Dylan’s attention, and not in a good way. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Really? What about room ten-oh-one? You own private fuck place with some of the, shall we say, more willing guests you meet in the hotel bar?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dylan spat out. But he did. “What makes you think…?”
Tommy hopped off the bed, going to the dresser. Opening the bottom drawer, he took out an envelope, tossing it to Dylan. Dylan opened it cautiously. It contained very explicit photos of him with several different men. “How the hell? Have you been spying on me?” The question was rhetorical, but Tommy replied anyway.
