Chapter 2
“Well, no one empties a room like us, I guess,” Gabe said. “And when I don’t have to worry about last night’s perp in interview room three, you’re going to explain to me just how much you know about this stuff, and how.”
Tom looked at his watch and yelped. He slugged back the last of his coffee and leaned in to kiss Gabe again, firmly but neatly. “I absolutely will,” he promised. “We’ll have a nice, long, sexy chat after work.” He looked like he was debating another kiss, but then caught sight of the clock and grimaced. “Right. I’ll see you tonight, angel. Love you!” And he was gone before Gabe even had time to echo the sentiment.
* * * *
Court had run late, and then Tom had to file a deposition and swing by the station to pull evidence, so he was running a solid two hours past his usual quitting time. Gabe had gone straight to Tom’s condo after work—the fact that he had keys to Tom’s place was a thing to marvel at, even after all this time—and he hadn’t moved from the desk chair since he’d flopped down in front of the computer, clicking links, and blinking at what he’d found, starting in Tom’s blatantly-labeled “Porn” folder and then moving on to the internet.
He’d been ignoring his erection long enough that he’d mostly forgotten about it. Except awareness flared like a sudden storm as soon as Tom walked into the room. Awareness, and a rather unexpected jolt of shame. Was he even considering any of these things, at all? Watching was one thing, but actually doing them? He flushed, heat rushing to his cheeks and throat.
“Hey,” he managed, quickly shutting it all down.
“Hey there, hot stuff,” Tom said, loosening his tie as he crossed the room to claim a kiss. “My day kind of sucked; how was yours?”
If Gabe blushed any harder, his hair was going to catch fire. And he couldn’t seem to look anywhere safe. He couldn’t meet Tom’s eyes at all, but Gabe’s gaze flickered from Tom’s lush mouth, down his chest, lingered on the line of his hip. “Uh…you know, if there weren’t so…much of this—” He waved his hand to indicate the sites he’d been directed to. “—I’d think you were pullin’ my leg. Do…have you…?” He wasn’t sure he wanted details, mind, on the who, and the when, but…
Tom glanced at the now-blank computer display, but somewhere between that, and Gabe’s hot blush, he seemed to clue in. All the exhaustion dropped away, and he stepped even closer with a smug purr. “Oh yes,” he said. “I had a little bit of a reputation with locals in the know for a while, as a Dom. But it’s hard to even find another switch in the scene, much less someone to really click with.”
Gabe shrugged, trying to ignore both the blush and the heavy press of his cock inside his jeans. “Why? Why would you…” He wasn’t sure what he was asking for. Reassurance or rejection, everything balanced on the edge. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his share of dark fantasies, but Amy had never expressed any interest in this sort of thing, and then Gabe had gotten tangled up in a shame spiral over his attraction to Tom, and…he’d never really stopped to consider those thoughts that surfaced from time to time. The urge to hold a lover down, the delicious ache of fingernails down his back. The way he couldn’t help himself, biting at Tom’s fair skin until it reddened.
Tom’s eyebrow went up. “Well, they say everyone’s got their own reasons, angel, but mostly because it just feels…maybe goodisn’t the right word, but satisfying. Can’t tell me you’re totally at a loss, here; I’ve heard the noises you make when I pull your hair.” Christ, Gabe hadn’t thought it was possibleto blush any harder. Tom smirked, and then the smile softened a little. “If you’re not into it, it’s okay, we can just lump it under the heading of ‘Freddie’s an idiot’ and forget it. I don’t need it to be happy with you, with us. I promise.”
It was a Pandora’s box. He’d opened it and there was no stuffing it all back inside. He couldn’t lock the thoughts away and pretend he’d never had them. He knew that they were bursting out of their seams anyway, the way he liked to look at the marks on Tom’s skin and know that Tom was his. At the same time, it seemed like all the sorts of things that fell under you don’t do that to people you care about. He shivered, and he couldn’t tell if it was fear or wanting that shook him. He shut his eyes, which might have been a mistake; his brain, always tactical and good at planning, honed by his training with the force, presented him with a very vivid image of Tom bent over, perfect ass red and stinging, tears in those beautiful brown eyes. Begging. Gabe swallowed a lump in his throat the size of a fucking golf ball. “Freddie is an idiot,” Gabe agreed, because that was absolutely true. “Don’t mean that I ain’t…into it.”
Admitting that, that those pictures and videos and descriptions had made him weak with wanting…that seemed to release a tidal flood of things he wanted to do to Tom. Things he wanted Tom to do to him. Some new height of pleasure and pain they could reach together. Things he’d never done, marking Tom under his skin, claiming him in every way Gabe could think of.