“Damn,” Abe murmured.
Dom registered a noise then. An oven timer beeping. “I’m surprised you heard that. My heart is beating so hard, it’s all I hear other than your breaths.”
“Heard what?” Abe asked. “I heard something?”
Snorting, Dom pulled him in for a hug, took his scent deep into his lungs, and let go. “I guess you cooked for me?”
“Shit! The oven!” Abe shook his head, pulled away, and he hurried through his living room into the kitchen.
Smiling and completely tickled that the man had cooked for him, Dom slowly followed, taking in the house he’d only been inside a couple of times. It looked bigger on the outside—like a reverse Tardis—with a compact living room and kitchen. A bar-style black table and with two bench seats and two chairs separated the areas. He knew there was a dining room off to the side Abe never used. He had buttery soft brown leather furniture facing a fireplace with a television mounted on the wall above in the living room. The only other piece of art was an antique sports sign that Abe had told him belonged to his father.
It looked like a family kind of home. Warm. Welcoming. Like the man.
Dom leaned on the white counter of the small island and watched Abe pull out a pan of potatoes. “Those look perfect.”
“Little crisper than I wanted, but they’ll work. You like pulled pork?”
“Oh, hell yeah. So that’s the heavenly smell.” He sniffed, then grinned. “And if I’m not mistaken, there’s something sweet in the air?”
The faint red on the back of Abe’s neck as he turned back to the oven made Dom want to do a dorky dance of happiness.
“I’ve noticed you have quite the sweet tooth. It’s nothing special. A banana nut bread Shane is nuts about.”
“I’m touched. I had no idea you could cook. I have a few tricks up my sleeve there, too.”
“I’m not that much of a cook, actually. I have about ten recipes I got the hang of over the years, and I stick with what I’m good at. Lots of different kinds of sandwiches mostly. You learn what you can when you end up a single parent.” He chuckled and lifted the lid off a crock pot.
The spicy barbecue that filled the air made his stomach growl, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since a bagel that morning. His damn brother had his mind all jacked up. But James was the last thing he wanted to think about. Watching Abe putter around his small kitchen filled Dom with a feeling he didn’t recognize. A sort of peace and comfort that duked it out with lust. He knew he wasn’t looking at the man as a father figure in any fashion. Wasn’t looking for a replacement for the shit stain that had been his dad.
He just really, really liked Abe, and he didn’t give a damn if he was turning fifty soon.
And yeah, he’d wheedled that information out of Quinn without giving himself away today. He’d had to pat himself on the back for that one.
“Can I help with anything?” he asked as Abe got out plates and forks.
“Nope.” He paused. “I’d planned to take you out somewhere nice tonight.”
“This is nicer than anything we would have gotten out.”
He grinned and Dom wanted to nuzzle back into his beard. Abe handed him a plate. “You haven’t even tasted the food yet, so save that thought.”
“I meant I’d rather be here with you than go out.” He picked up Abe’s plate too and carried it to the table.
“I thought we’d go out afterward. You can show me someplace you like.”
He didn’t want to risk running into his brother. Not tonight. He grabbed two bottles of water out of Abe’s refrigerator and sat at the table. “Let’s eat and then maybe we’ll Netflix and chill.”
“Trying to trip up the old man?”
Dom looked around. “What old man?” He winked. “Netflix and chill means—”
“I know exactly what it means.” Abe leaned over the table until he was a breath away from Dom’s mouth. “And I have Netflix.”
“Shit,” Dom breathed, his body igniting back to full burn so fast, it made him dizzy. “For the record, please don’t think I’m eating so fast because I don’t enjoy the food. I love it.”
“Again, you haven’t tasted it yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. You and me?” He waggled a finger between them. “We have a date with that couch in less than fifteen minutes.”
Abe sat fast and they both dug in.
Dom insisted on helping him clean the kitchen, and it took all Abe’s concentration to not attack the guy. He wanted to lift him up on the counter and—
“That’s it,” Dom announced. “I can’t handle the way you keep looking at me.” He threw the dishtowel he’d been using and backed Abe into a wall this time. He braced both hands on either side of his shoulders and stared hard at him. “We’re doing this at a slow pace. I mean it.”
“Stop being so fucking bossy and come here.” Abe grabbed him and yanked him in for another kiss that rocked his world. The man kissed like he wanted to devour Abe, like he could pull air from Abe’s lungs to survive on that alone. He had a naughty tongue normally—Abe never knew what was going to come out of his mouth—but it was also playful and so damn sensual when he slid it into Abe’s mouth. He wanted that tongue all over his body.
They kissed until his lips became sensitive, to where every rasp of Dom’s lips sent nerves tingling like he was being zapped with tiny bursts of electricity.
Dom pulled back and he kept going until his back hit the island. “Take off your shirt.”
Abe didn’t even hesitate. He was too far gone to worry about his forty-nine-year-old body at this point. If Dom didn’t like him as he was, if he didn’t want to do this again, then Abe would take this one shot to see him, to touch him, and he’d love it. He took a step forward and pulled off his Henley and stood there, letting Dom look. “Yours too.”
“In a minute,” Dom breathed as he leaned back against the island and leisurely ran that hot gaze over Abe.
It took all his control to stand still because he wanted to maul Dom. There wasn’t another word to describe what he wanted to do. Grab him, throw him against the wall or on the couch and just…take him apart. Feel all that searing skin against his. Rub his cock against that taut body…
Dom grinned in that oh-so-wicked fashion of his and crooked a finger. “Come here.”
But Abe had a better idea. He grabbed him and pressed him back into the wall. Dom didn’t wait for him to take the final step closer before his hands were on Abe’s chest and his fingers were combing through his chest hair. He ran one palm down Abe’s belly, which didn’t have the bumps and ridges of muscle that Dom’s had. But he couldn’t discount the complete desire he saw in those green eyes and the very hard dick showing in his jeans.
Abe slowly reached out and ran one finger down that hard ridge, and the back of Dom’s head thunked on the wall. “If I come in my pants, no comments about the age thing. I’m thirty-two damn years old and you have me so hot, I’m about to be humiliated for life.”
“Oh yeah?” He popped the top button and unzipped Dom’s jeans. He didn’t push them down—just left them open. “Spiderman? Really?”
“I didn’t think you’d be seeing my boxers tonight, or I would have worn the Batman ones. They’re way hotter.” Dom smirked.
That expression was so fucking sexy, and Abe wanted to mess with it, so he reached inside the waist of Dom’s comic-covered underwear. Dom sucked in a loud breath when he wrapped his hand around his cock. “Did you think I’d have my hand on your dick today, Dom?”
“No. I hoped.” He panted and let out a hoarse noise when Abe tightened his fingers. “I hoped every damn day since I met you.” He ran his hands over Abe’s chest. Up, then down and each time, he played with the hair. “I kept seeing hints of this peeking out of the openings of your shirts or a glimpse when your T-shirt was loose, and it’s been driving me nuts for eight fucking months.”
Abe glanced down, hardly able to compute anything Dom was saying because he loved the
feel of that long cock in his hand. It felt like his, smooth skin over rigid muscle, the pound of blood pulsing under the surface. But it also didn’t feel like his. It was silkier and hotter, and he wanted to explore every inch of it with his hands and his mouth. He ran his thumb over the crown and felt the bit of slick beaded at the top. When Dom shuddered, he felt like puffing out his chest. He was doing this to Dom. Him. “What was driving you nuts?” he finally whispered.
“The hair on your chest. It’s darker than what’s on your head and in your beard, and I was dying to see just how dark and how far it went down. I like that it disappears into your jeans. So damn hot.” He stroked Abe’s stomach, then stopped and took a long, shaky breath. “I think we’re going to have to slow this down.”
Regret laced every word, but it was obvious he meant what he said.
“Why?” Abe asked, tightening his fingers and chuckling at the way Dom gasped and thrust up into his hand.
“Because I really like you, and I know how you feel about dating. I don’t want to just hook up with you, so I want to go slower, too. So you’ll know it’s real to me.”
“Feels pretty damn real to me.” He frowned. “I’ve heard the stories, Dom. You don’t do slow.”
His eyes opened and the green shimmered in the low light of the lamp behind Abe. “That’s just it. Nothing about this feels anything like what I’ve done before.” He curled his fingers in Abe’s chest hair again. “This matters, Abe. Really matters. You like the way it feels to kiss me? Touch me?”
“I like it a lot more than I expected, and I expected to love it.”
Dom’s chuckle was so low and throaty, Abe’s dick jerked in his jeans and he winced and glanced down at it.
“Well, I’ve been with a lot of men. Enough to know the kind of excitement I’m feeling right here with you is more important than a hookup.”
Abe stared at him, his heart still slamming against his chest and his cock still hoping for more action. He stared until he clued in that this was important to Dom. He meant every word. He reluctantly uncurled his fingers, but he used both hands to tug the waistband of those silly boxers out so he could look inside. He grinned when Dom groaned.
“That’s cheating.”
“I just wanted to see what I have to look forward to. You going to teach me what you can do with that thing?”
This time, his eyes squeezed shut and he purposely slammed his head back against the wall. “I’m an idiot. Never mind. Ignore everything I just said and slide your hand back in there.”
“Nope,” Abe said, kissing the corner of his mouth as he refastened Dom’s jeans. “You’re right. I want us to both be ready for that first time.”
“But there will be a first time, right?” Dom’s eyes shot open and narrowed on him. His hair was stuck up all over the place, and he had beard burn darkening his cheeks and jaw—his pale skin flushed red down his neck.
So. Damn. Hot.
“There will definitely be a first time. And probably a second. And a third.” He stepped back.
“God, I’m an idiot,” Dom repeated. “You find us a movie—not on Netflix, dammit. Something with lots of explosions. I’m going to run out to my car. I got us a nice baby bourbon. No telling on me that it’s from New York.”
Abe just flat-out liked him. “Bourbon sounds good.” He watched Dom hurry out his front door and he walked over to his freezer, opened it, and stuck his head inside. Holy shit, he was on fire. He’d had passion in his life, but this was unreal. Kissing Dom was like taking a shot of a good, one hundred percent bourbon. Smooth and a little sweet with a kick that left a man warm, horny, and fired up for more.
When he felt sufficiently cool, he got out a packet of microwave popcorn. Popcorn and bourbon? He was up for trying something new. Or…something else new.
He had absolutely no doubts that he was going to love any and every kind of sex he was going to have with Dominic Walsh.
When the popcorn was done, he poured it into a bowl while watching his front door. He wasn’t sure what sent alarm skittering down his back, but within moments, he was out the front door and the sight of Dom running from around the back of his house had him rushing out to his driveway to meet him.
The absolute fury and fear on Dom’s face made his food turn into a lump in his stomach. “What’s going on?”
“Fuck, Abe. I’m so sorry. I have to go. Now. But I’ll be back with paint to take care of that tomorrow, okay?”
“Take care of what?” Confused and worried, he grabbed Dom’s arm to stop him from getting into his car. “Paint? What’s wrong? You look…scared.”
Dom pointed and Abe followed to see some black letters on his white garage door. He let go of Dom and walked close, realizing as he did that they weren’t letters, but stick figures in different poses.
“These are just like the ones you said neighborhood kids did on your door.” He crossed his arms and stared at Dom, taking in how pale he looked in the light of the streetlamps. “Talk to me. This is obviously not kids—not ones who followed you to my neighborhood. What do these figures mean?”
“I don’t…I can’t.” He shut his eyes and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I’m not sure what this means, but I have to leave so I can find out. I’m sorry to cut our evening short, and I’m sorry about the door. I’ll fix it tomorrow.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the damn door, Dom. This is bad. I can tell. You said you wanted more than a hookup, and that means communication!”
Dom’s lips tightened, and a flash of agony flashed over his expression.
“Dom?” Abe stepped toward him.
But Dom jumped into his car and shut the door. He mouthed, I’m sorry through the window before peeling out of Abe’s driveway.
Abe stared after him for a few moments, then looked back and forth down the dark street. He saw no movement and he didn’t feel eyes on him, so he was sure he was alone. He walked to the garage door and saw that someone had used actual paint to make the figures. This time, Dom couldn’t wipe them off.
Because it was obvious this was some kind of evidence, he walked inside to get his cell phone. This time, Abe would have pictures of the entire message.
Chapter Seven
The familiar scents drifting through the air at the Norfolk Pub the next afternoon didn’t settle the uneasiness swirling through Abe’s chest. He had a standing lunch date with Shane and he usually looked forward to it, but today, he had too much on his mind.
Just a few days ago, he’d decided to tell his son about Dom, but now he found himself reconsidering. And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Shane’s boyfriend had joined them. Quinn couldn’t have been a better fit for their little family, and it was obvious he was a permanent part of Shane’s life. Abe’s decision had more to do with the way Dom had acted the night before. His concern sat like a weight on his shoulders, and he had a feeling he shouldn’t talk about what was going on yet. Not the relationship or the stick figures that had been gone when he left his house that afternoon. Dom must have returned at dawn to paint over them.
Luckily, Abe had taken plenty of pictures.
The scent of toasted bread, pastrami, and roast beef filled the restaurant, and all the tables and blue booths were full. The place was known for its Binham Blue Cheese and specialty mustard. The owner had come from England and brought a taste of his home with him.
His son loved the food, too, so he’d scored a reservation early today.
Quinn’s face lit up when he spotted Abe and he waved him to their table, which was already set with the colorful clay pottery made in one of the seaside towns in Britain. Various images of sailboats and sea creatures peppered the walls, and a white sail was stretched near the ceiling over the bar. When he’d first come here, he’d expected seafood, which he loved, but he’d been so pleasantly surprised by the cured meats. And the special was always a delightful surprise.
A place was already set for him; Shane knew him well.
Abe walked over to the table, smiling at his son as he looked up at him. Happiness lit Shane’s brown eyes—mirrors of his own. In addition, Shane had inherited his curly hair. He’d gotten his slimmer build from his mother. He wasn’t as slim as his boyfriend, though, who was cute with his dark hair and black-framed glasses. Seeing these two with each other was the highlight of any day they got together because there was a magic there he’d hoped his son would find. Something real and lasting.
“Dad.” Shane stood and hugged him.
Abe held his son and smiled. He loved that they were so close now. Shane had been angry with him for years because of Patricia and the way he’d indulged her. Far as he was concerned, he deserved the anger. She’d walked all over him at times because she knew just how important family was to him. He’d wanted to keep her in Shane’s life, so he’d given in on so many things. Hadn’t mattered in the long run—she’d still walked out on them both.
“Hey, Abe.” Quinn smiled up at him, then pointed to the glass of iced tea. “I hope unsweetened is good, because I ordered when Shane was outside on the phone. He told me you always get the special, no matter what it is.”
“I do, and unsweetened is fine. It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Their food arrived as he settled into his chair—like the waiter had just been watching for his arrival. This being his third time for sandwiches this week, he’d have to cut the bread for the rest of it. He’d never get down to the weight he’d enjoyed in his younger years, but staying in shape was important. Especially now that he had a hot boyfriend.
Sadistic Sherlock (Ward Security Book 4) Page 7
