by Devon Rhodes
Now, as Tommy drove his fist into the doorjamb—once, twice—he miserably wondered if he could ever punish himself enough to make up for the pain he’d thoughtlessly inflicted—and whether Jim would ever be back.
He took a third shot.
“JESUS. WHAT does the other guy look like?”
“Huh?” Tommy looked over blearily at Keith as he stirred creamer into his morning coffee. He’d tossed and turned all night, his mind torturing him by replaying the terrible scene with Jim over and over. He’d had plenty of time to think of all the things he should have said and must’ve picked up the phone a dozen times—but chickened out each time, not wanting to hear Jim tell him to fuck off again. Or worse, not even answer.
“Tommy. What’s wrong? Your knuckles are hamburger and you look half-dead. Did you get in a fight last night?”
He shrugged and turned back to his coffee. “Jim and I got into it last night, but—”
Tommy yelped as he was suddenly yanked backward and pushed up against the counter, his coffee spilling everywhere and the mug landing with a thunk in the sink.
“What the—?”
“You got into a fight with Jim? You punched him? After all he’s done for you—saving your job, working on your house? What the fuck?” Keith gave him a disgusted look as he backed off. “I thought you guys were friends.”
Trying hard to mentally catch up, Tommy finally processed all Keith had said.
“What do you mean, saving my job? What did Jim have to do with it?”
Keith froze, then cringed. “Shit.”
Tommy stepped up to his boss and fixed him with what he hoped was a spill-everything stare and used superhuman effort to keep his mouth shut and tempt him into confessing to fill the silence. Like Tommy usually did when Jim used the technique on him.
Keith looked extremely uncomfortable as he cleared his throat repeatedly.
Wow. Looks like it’s actually working.
“Fuck,” Keith mumbled under his breath, then rocked Tommy’s world by confessing, “Jim wasn’t on the original list of layoffs. You were.”
Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. Tommy was stunned. “I was supposed to get laid off? What happened? I mean”—he gestured around the break room—“how am I still here, then? What did Jim do?” He was beginning to get some idea, though.
Keith flushed. “He’s my best friend. Ya know? So when they said I could only keep two machinists, I just couldn’t put his name down.” Keith’s eyes begged for understanding, and Tommy had to empathize with the guy, having to tell someone to their face he’d tried to get rid of them.
He rushed to continue. “But when I told Jim that day, he flipped out. Said I had to keep you—that you’d been here longer and it wasn’t fair. ‘Last-in, first-out,’ he kept saying. He was really adamant about it.” Keith looked dejected. “He told me later that with you right in the middle of closing on your house, it would’ve been a million times harder for you than for him to be out of work.
“I was really glad when I heard you had given him a job; kind of a fair swap, I thought. With all the money he feeds to his mom, he’s not exactly rolling in it right now.”
That was news to Tommy. It all was. A slow simmer started in his brain. Even after how clear he’d been with Jim about the importance of being open and honest with him, Jim had apparently thought nothing of keeping some pretty major secrets from him.
Keith’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Tommy. “So you obviously didn’t know about the swap and all he did for you. Now, does that change how you think about whatever you guys got into a fight about last night?”
“Oh yes. It changes everything.” Tommy would be damned if he would continue to feel crappy and guilty about what he’d said to Jim. Jim didn’t even have enough respect for their relationship—or even friendship—to share some monumental stuff.
He was evidently just a fuck and a paycheck.
So be it.
HE HELD on to that lofty ideal all the way until his lunch break.
Actions speak louder than words.
The axiom he’d trotted out to Jim the first time they’d fought came boomeranging back with bull’s-eye accuracy and smacked him right off his pedestal. Who was he to be high and mighty? Instead of showing some empathy for how humbling it must’ve been for a man like Jim to take that paycheck and feel as though Tommy was subsidizing their budding relationship, he’d gotten stubborn and defensive and lashed out in return. And he’d piled on Jim with just the worst possible things to say to make him feel useless and less of a man.
Why didn’t you just cut his balls off while you were at it, asshole?
The nausea he’d had since the fight was back with a vengeance, so he tossed his uneaten sandwich into the trash and got a spare mug out of the cupboard. The coffee in the pot was cold sludge. No creamer left either.
Crap.
He really needed a pick-me-up or he’d never get through the rest of his shift. Looking at the clock on the wall, Tommy figured he had just enough time to get the two blocks to the coffee shop and back before it was time to clock back in.
After throwing his gloves and eye protection into his locker, he grabbed his keys and headed out the break room door.
And almost ran right into Jim.
Chapter 9
TOMMY’S HANDS had come up reflexively to stop the collision that never happened. Feeling foolish, he tried to inconspicuously drop them to his sides but ended up with arms crossed. Which felt defensive, so then he did drop them. Which felt dumb as they just hung there.
He chanced a look at Jim and was equally relieved and indignant to see the familiar expression of amusement on Jim’s face.
“Take it easy there, buddy. You about ran me over.”
Buddy?
The secret joy Tommy felt at seeing Jim as his smiling self took an abrupt nosedive. He realized with a sinking feeling Jim was playing a part for the benefit of his ex-coworkers. Tommy’s earlier resentment at Jim’s lack of communication came flaring back to life, and he gave a startled Jim a shove.
“Hey!” he protested, looking around. For witnesses, Tommy surmised. He gave another angry push, and in trying to stop him, Jim grabbed his hand—the injured one.
Pain shot through him. Coupled with his exhaustion and stress, it almost buckled his knees.
“Oh shit. Tommy, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt….” Jim looked at Tommy’s knuckles. His eyes shot up to Tommy’s guilty ones, and then his gaze and hands seemed to be everywhere at once as Jim patted him down, concern and fury warring on his face.
“Who did this? Who did you have to hit? What did they do to you?”
Embarrassed at having to confess his melodramatic meltdown of the night before, Tommy knew they had a lot more talking to do than could be done in the hallway at work.
And of course, right then Keith joined them, trailed at a distance by Piero.
“You two lovebirds making up?”
Both Tommy and Jim turned to Keith in shock. Tommy felt his face go bright red as his pulse throbbed in his head. Beside him, Jim was flushed as well, and Tommy watched Keith slowly lose his smirk. He looked slack-jawed back and forth between the two with growing comprehension.
“Holy shit. You two are together?”
“Keep it down, asshole,” Jim warned, too late.
Piero stopped short, eyes wide. “You two are together? Like”—he made a vulgar gesture—“together?”
Keith groaned, “C’mon man, quit with the visuals!” and Tommy wished the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.
“Jesus fuck, would everyone just shut up?” Jim gestured at another employee visible in the distance. “Get in the break room. No, wait. Keith’s office.” Jim took charge and herded them all down the hall, his hand lingering for just a moment on the small of Tommy’s back.
When the door shut behind them, Piero asked, “Do I really have to be here for this?”
“You butted in, in the hallway, so y
ou’re in for the duration,” Keith retorted.
Jim gave a derisive snort. “Oh, nice. Pot meet kettle. Who asked you to join the conversation out there?”
Keith pointed at Jim. “Hey. The only reason you’re even here is to have lunch with me, so excuse me for actually coming over when I saw you were here.”
Trying to remain inconspicuous, Tommy was depressed to hear his private, hopeful theory that Jim had come to see him shot down in a cloud of smoke. After all, why would Jim do that after the things he’d said?
Jim’s voice broke into his self-flagellation. “For your information, Mr. It’s All About Me, I was coming to see Tommy on his lunch break, not you.” He continued in a softer tone. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Tommy looked up as his breath caught in his throat.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I seriously have to be a part of this?” Piero interjected in disgust.
Keith bristled. “You have a problem with these two?”
Jim stepped half in front of Tommy. His heart jumped at the protective gesture.
“Yeah,” Piero shot back. “I get enough of this relationship-sharing shit at home with my wife. I don’t need it on my lunch break too.”
Jim leaned in toward Piero, making some kind of motion with his hands. “So if Tommy and I are together, you don’t have a problem with that?”
Tommy couldn’t see what he did with Jim’s back in the way, but from Keith’s exclamation, “God, I thought I said enough with the visuals!” he guessed Jim had given back Piero’s gesture. He fought to keep an inappropriate laugh down. The whole surreal scene was getting more bizarre by the moment.
“No, not as long as we don’t have to talk about it constantly like a bunch of women. Jesus. Can you guys go do this at home and keep work a fucking emotion-free zone?” With that, he stormed out of the office, muttering to himself.
Relieved and touched by Piero’s gruffly accepting reaction, Tommy stepped out from behind Jim. “That’s a great idea. Can we go home?” He kept his gaze on Jim as he asked Keith, “Okay if I take the rest of the day off, boss?”
A smile broadened Jim’s face as Keith agreed.
“But only if there’s no more fighting. And get that hand looked at,” he called back over his shoulder as he left them in his office.
Jim sobered immediately and raised Tommy’s raw knuckles for a ghost of a kiss, eyes promising more to come.
Tommy smiled. “Let’s go home.”
THEY LEFT Tommy’s pickup in the parking lot, and Jim drove to Tommy’s house as fast as he thought he could get away with, distracted by Tommy’s hand resting on and occasionally caressing his thigh.
Swearing under his breath as he slammed the truck into park, he reached past Tommy and opened the glove compartment to pull out an unopened box of condoms and lube. Jim was down to his last bit of restraint, and Tommy’s flushed and anticipatory look when he saw the supplies broke Jim’s control.
“In the house. Now,” he gritted out, somewhat mollified when Tommy went directly to the door. He opened it in record time and headed straight upstairs to his room.
When Jim had locked the front door and joined him, Tommy already had his shoes and socks off and was naked from the waist up, working his belt buckle. Pushing his hands aside, Jim got it open and pulled the belt from the loops in a long slide, eyeing it thoughtfully before dropping it to the floor.
Next time, he thought regretfully. This time was for making up, not pushing boundaries. Enough boundaries were going to be pushed anyway, because Tommy was about to take a step he’d never forget—and Jim had better get himself under control if he wanted to make it a good memory.
Looking at the want on Tommy’s face, Jim gave up all pretense at taking it slow and making it sexy. He stripped efficiently, without fanfare, and as soon as he was naked, he unfastened and pushed Tommy’s jeans and briefs to the ground, kneeling to help him step out. He took in the vision of Tommy’s beautiful, erect cock, bobbing temptingly, and it was like a red cape in front of a bull. Jim swallowed him whole.
Tommy let out a wordless yell, and his knees buckled. Jim caught him around the thighs and drew slowly off, pressing with his tongue under the cap as he lingered on the tip. He ran his tongue under the ridge, then tasted the slit, greedily extracting the mouthwatering bead of essence his ministrations had produced.
Jim stood quickly, then gave Tommy a half shove, half toss onto the bed and immediately crawled up over him, making as much skin contact as he could, rubbing up his body unashamedly. By now, his erect cock needed counterpressure, and he thrust up against Tommy, catching him under the sac, sliding along his balls and toward his hole.
Jim spread Tommy’s legs and they willingly opened, exposing the area he sought. Coaching Tommy without words to hold his own legs back, Jim grabbed the supplies he’d tossed on the bed, pissed at himself for not getting everything ready ahead of time. He finally managed to get the lube open and a condom unwrapped, and slicked the condom down his impatient shaft before turning to Tommy.
Tommy looked wanton, sprawled open, everything exposed to Jim’s admiring view. And far from looking embarrassed or uncertain, as Jim had feared he might, every bit of him showed his impatience with the pace so far as he snarked, “Do I need to have it engraved?”
The impatient look vanished into surprise, then lust as Jim smacked his impertinent ass before loading his fingers with lube. He took his time smoothing it around and then tucking into Tommy’s warmth with his finger, working the virgin channel and coaxing it to relax under the invasion.
Before long, Tommy’s unconscious tension vanished and Jim was able to start stretching him in earnest. Tommy’s erection bobbed unabated before Jim’s rapt gaze, giving Jim unmistakable reassurance that he needed this as much as Jim did. Finally certain Tommy was as ready as he could be for his first time, Jim rested the tip of his penis against his prepared opening.
“Ready?”
Tommy confirmed with an openmouthed nod, already straining toward Jim.
Tommy’s eyes closed tightly as Jim passed the guardian muscle and paused, shaking with the effort it took not to plunge in all at once. Tommy exhaled heavily, and Jim could feel him relax. He eased farther in, letting Tommy adjust to him, and finally bottomed out, fully encased in Tommy’s mind-sapping heat.
Holding himself there took everything he had, but hurting Tommy was not an option. He set up a gentle glide, slowly increasing the pace as he followed Tommy’s lead. Soon Tommy was meeting his thrusts and asking for more. Jim snapped deeply on the next thrust, and Tommy groaned with pleasure, moaning, “Yeah,” and “Fuck, so hot.”
Changing his angle, he sought Tommy’s gland, and when his erection jumped, eyes flying to Jim’s wide with shock, he chuckled, knowing he’d found his target. From then on, he worked it, finally taking Tommy’s flushed erection in hand and stroking in time with his thrusts. Tommy kept up a litany of throaty encouragement. Never had his babbling sounded better to Jim as when he became incoherent. It culminated in a wordless exhalation as Tommy shot milky-white ribbons of cum over his abdomen, clenching around Jim and sending him into a final volley of thrusts as he saw stars, coming harder than he ever had in his life.
His heart was still beating out of his chest when he slowly pulled himself from Tommy to a growl of displeasure. Jim smiled as he reminded him, “Gotta take care of this. I’ll be back.”
“’Kay” was the only response.
Apparently Jim had fucked the babble right out of him.
Good to know.
He came back from the bathroom with a rag to clean up with. He finally did the honors himself since Tommy just let the rag sit where it had landed on his stomach. Jim tossed it aside and pulled a sleepy Tommy into his arms. The way they fit together brought a new lightness to his heart, especially now, with today’s strange but positive encounter with their workmates behind them. Sure, there would be more hurdles to clear, but for the first time, Jim had every reason in the world to take the
m on.
“You’re worth everything to me,” he whispered to Tommy, whose full lips curved in a sated, sleepy smile.
“Guess we should talk.” Tommy had never sounded more disinclined to talk in all the years Jim had known him, and Jim’s chest expanded with pride at the thought of having such an effect on his lover.
“Later,” Jim promised. “I’ll swap you some silence now for an honest heart-to-heart later.”
“Deal.” A moment later, Tommy was asleep.
“Deal,” Jim whispered back, knowing his life would never be the same after this swap. And he couldn’t be happier.
More from Devon Rhodes
Benny Oshiro is having the time of his life at a private gig for his band, One Wish, until he’s assaulted and kidnapped by their former manager. When his rescue—or more accurately his rescuer—gets a little hairy, Benny knows he should reconsider their sparking attraction, but no one has ever looked at Benny with the naked want that Curtis does—want Benny can’t help but return.
Curtis Salinas knows at first sight that Benny is the only one for him. But now is not the time to test Curtis’s newly developed control. Outside forces are at work, threatening to expose his family’s secret, and when Benny is kidnapped a second time, Curtis realizes the enemy he’s searching for is only half the problem. To ensure a secure and happy future, he must also face down his doubts and claim Benny for his own.
Geoff Radcliffe is having a mid-life crisis just in time for the holidays. He goes into a tailspin after hearing from his first love, picks up a stranger who locks him out of the house in nothing but his pants, and then he gets up the courage to go get rid of his grey, and the colorist refuses to ‘do’ Geoff’s hair! But Abe Golden, thrilled that the hunky silver-tipped guy has admitted he’s gay, does ‘do’ him, taking him home for the hottest night of Geoff’s life. After three heavenly days of smoking hot sex, Abe has done the unimaginable: he’s fallen in love. And when he finds out that Geoff has been using him to practice for another man, Abe is at first heartbroken… and then he plots how to show Geoff the value of combining silver and gold.
