Chapter 2

It took a while before his breath came under control, but shock waves still shuddered through him. Holy God, that had been fantastic.

And if a hunk of rubber made him feel this good, what would it be like with an actual partner?

Tom removed the dildo and decided that, like Scarlett O’Hara, he’d think about that another day, but as much as he tried, the thought lingered.

He rolled off the bed, made his way into the bathroom, and began to give it serious thought as he showered. He’d head on over to the Always Reddy Pub. It had opened a few years before and was known as being gay-friendly. Well, its owner and his partner were gay, so that only made sense. During the week, it was a quiet place, but on the weekend, it exploded with music and dancing, and Tom had hooked up with a cutie whenever he went, because that was how he rolled.

* * * *

Although Tom drove a Jeep to work during the week, he rode his Harley on the weekend, as long as the weather was good. Tonight, since it was a warm, balmy evening, that was the plan. He dressed in his leathers and wheeled his hog out of the garage at the rear of the property he’d bought with the money his grandpa had left him. He loved that motorcycle and believed in keeping it safe and dry, which was why he’d had the one-car garage enlarged to hold not only his Jeep but the Harley as well.

He rode to the Always Reddy Pub on Bull Street. The pub was a replica of a Revolutionary era tavern, down to the leaded windows and the sign that swung above the door. The building itself was white, with forest green shutters at every window.

Tom parked in the lot behind the building, then walked around to the front. Okay, buddy, it’s show time. He rolled his shoulders and pushed open the door.

As soon as Tom swaggered into the pub, a wall of sound and scent struck him, the music almost deafening and the scent, a combination of musk, sweat, and cologne, enough to knock a man on his ass. He was tempted to turn around and walk out, but this was leather daddy night, and he was on a mission.

His friend Josh waved him over, and Tom went to join him. Tom had considered asking Josh if he would make love to him, but two things stopped him: even though Josh loved Tom and would have done anything for him, Josh was a dedicated bottom. What scared Tom, however, was the fact that request could ruin their friendship, and the act wasn’t so important that he would risk losing Josh over it.

“See anyone who strikes your fancy?” he asked after hugging Josh and planting a kiss on Josh’s cheek.

“As a matter of fact…” Josh grinned and nodded toward the man approaching them from the bar, holding a couple of glasses. His bearing screamed military, which made sense, since there were a couple of bases near Savannah. And even though Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was the policy, it wasn’t surprising to see soldiers here.

Tom frowned. “You’re still dating Ken?”

“You know his name is Lucas.”

“I know.” The thing was, Lucas Robinson flat-out rubbed Tom the wrong way. The guy had perfect, pretty looks, just like a Ken doll, which was why Tom referred to him by that name. Lucas had sleek black hair and gray eyes and was four inches shorter than Josh, which made him about six foot two.

“He’s a good man, Tommy.”

“If you say so.” Tom knew Josh was desperate to be loved, and though Tom loved him, it just wasn’t in the way Josh needed. It had struck Tom that Ken—Lucas—liked having a boyfriend who was so tall just so he could demonstrate what a big man he was by being able to top someone Josh’s size.

But Josh loved Lucas, and Tom was a big believer in leaving well enough alone. As long as Lucas treated Josh well…

Lucas arrived at the table. He must have spotted Tom earlier, because a frown darkened his pretty boy looks. He wiped it off immediately, but Tom had already seen it. “Weber.”

“Robinson.”

“Did Josh forget to tell me you were gonna be here?”

“No. This was a spur-of-the-moment visit.”

Lucas handed Josh his drink. “Sorry, I didn’t get a drink for you.” He took a sip of his own.

“Not necessary, although I appreciate the thought.” Not. “I’m a big enough boy to buy my own drinks.”

“Big?” Lucas tried to cover his snicker with a cough. He stood about six inches taller than Tom, and he straightened to attention to demonstrate his superior height.