by K. C. Wells
“Ha! You thought I’d forgotten you were ticklish? Fat chance.” Mike let his fingers dance over Tommy’s abs until Tommy was crying and laughing, all at the same time. Mike’s eyes sparkled. “You had enough yet? Huh?” All the while he kept up the remorseless assault. “Ready to say ‘uncle’?”
Tommy could hardly see for the tears streaming down his face. “Uh-uh!” He didn’t know how much more he could take. Mike paused, and for one blessed moment Tommy thought it was over—until Mike yanked up his T-shirt and started blowing raspberries on his belly. “Aw… shit, Mike… no!” He could barely scream out the words, his voice hoarse, his breathing ragged.
Mike let out a maniacal laugh. “Hell, I can do this all day if I have to.”
There was only so much torture a boy could take.
“Uncle!”
Mike froze. “I win?” His face was inches from Tommy’s, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.
“You win, you win,” Tommy gasped out, heart pounding, face unbelievably hot. And then his pulse raced for an entirely different reason when Mike moved slowly, so slowly, and took his mouth in a soft kiss. “Oh.” Tommy relaxed, melted into the couch, and let his body go limp beneath Mike’s. He brought his hands up to cup Mike’s head, wanting more, needing more.
Mike shifted to sit on the couch and pulled Tommy into his arms before sinking back into that kiss. Tommy looped one arm around Mike’s neck and stroked his face with the other, eyes closed, breathing Mike in. His chest was still rising and falling from the exertion, heart beating strongly, but all he knew was Mike’s lips, Mike’s tongue that gently demanded entrance, Mike’s strong hand rubbing his belly.
Mike broke the kiss to murmur against his mouth. “Mmm, making out on the couch on a rainy Sunday. Now, this is perfect.”
Tommy was inclined to agree. “Yeah,” he whispered, his fingertips seeking out the warm flesh of Mike’s chest through the gaps between the buttons of his shirt.
He opened his eyes to see Mike smile and slowly undo the buttons, pulling the shirt to reveal the firm pecs with their soft covering of hair. “You wanna touch?” He grasped Tommy’s hand and guided it to his nipple. “Play with it,” he whispered. “I like that.”
Tommy inclined his head to look directly at Mike. “Can… can I lick it?”
The rich chuckle that rumbled through Mike’s chest was answer enough. “Lick it, suck it, bite it even.” Mike grinned. “But I get to touch too.” Before Tommy could say a word, Mike moved his hand down Tommy’s belly to the waistband of his jeans and popped the button free. He lowered the zipper and slipped his hand inside, stroking over Tommy’s briefs, where his dick was starting to harden.
Tommy’s breathing stuttered, and Mike laughed quietly. “Hey, weren’t you and my nipple getting acquainted?” His eyes gleamed.
Tommy brought his mouth to the firm little nub and licked over it, loving the shudder that coursed through Mike’s body, the way his hips pushed up just that little bit. A lightness spread through Tommy’s chest when realization dawned. I did that. I made him feel good. Damn, that felt amazing. A sense of power surged through him, and he took the nipple between his teeth and tugged it. There was no mistaking Mike’s reaction. He rolled out a groan and pushed his hand into Tommy’s briefs to wrap it around his shaft, pulling it free and working it gently.
It was Tommy’s turn to shudder.
The pair of them sat there on the couch, Tommy teasing and biting Mike’s nipple, his hand stroking that firm, taut belly, while Mike put his head back against the cushions and made low noises that went straight to Tommy’s dick. Mike spat into his hand and then curled his fingers around Tommy’s cock, sliding on the silken skin, moving slowly, gently building up speed.
Mike grabbed the back of Tommy’s head, his fingers through his hair, and pulled him free to bring their mouths together in a not too gentle collision that left Tommy gasping for breath. Mike plundered his mouth, sucking on Tommy’s tongue, that hand job not stopping for an instant. Tommy’s hips bucked, body trembling, and then there he was, creaming over Mike’s hand and moaning into that kiss. Mike held him steady throughout, until the jolts of orgasm had faded away. Tommy laid his head on Mike’s shoulder and watched as Mike lifted his come-covered hand to his lips and lapped it all up, his gaze fixed on Tommy.
Oh my dear Lord, that is so hot. Then he got to taste himself when Mike kissed him, slowly, thoroughly, tongue sliding between Tommy’s lips. Tommy closed his eyes and leaned into Mike’s touch, enjoying the feel of that warm, hard body against his. He didn’t want to think about leaving, about the coming week that was going to drag until he got to see Mike again. All that mattered was this, the two of them, curled up together, Mike’s kiss, Mike’s touch.
Who was he kidding? The way he was feeling right then, all that mattered was Mike.
MIKE WAVED Tommy off, watching until the truck was out of sight. He closed the front door and then walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Within the next half hour he needed to be showered and changed, ready for Woofs. Only, he didn’t want to go.
He hadn’t wanted Tommy to go either.
His phone’s shrill tone broke through the quiet. He picked it up from the coffee table and groaned aloud. Aw crap. When the call connected, he braced himself for the onslaught. “Hi, Mom.”
Her huff was clearly audible. “Oh, so you are alive, then. I was beginnin’ to wonder.”
“Don’t give me that,” he retorted, his chest tightening. “I know why you’re calling.”
“Have I done somethin’? Said somethin’?” she demanded. “Because it’s been a few weeks now that I haven’t had the pleasure of your comp’ny for Sunday lunch, and it’s startin’ to worry me.”
Fuck. Mike felt like such a heel. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It’s just that I’ve been a little… busy these last weeks.”
There was a moment of silence. “What’s his name?”
“Excuse me?” Damn his mom’s intuition.
“You heard me, Mike Scott. What’s the name of the guy that’s keepin’ you away from your momma?” She chuckled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny your suspicions,” Mike said with a grin. Let her chew on that.
“I knew it.” She sounded insufferably pleased with herself. “Okay, you’re forgiven. Only, mind you bring him along to meet me if it gets serious, y’hear?”
“Bring who? Did I say there was someone? Well, did I?” Mike was trying hard not to laugh.
His mom breezed on like she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. “Now I’ve got the yellin’ out of the way, s’pose you tell me what’s goin’ on in your life? That’s if you have the time, of course.”
Mike sighed. Mom always knew how to twist the knife.
“HOW’S THE schedule looking for the next month or so?” Kevin asked Mike as they cleaned up, the last of the customers having just left. “You gonna be away filming at all? We’re drawing up the new roster.”
Mike got out his phone and pulled up his calendar. “Far as I can tell, unless anything changes, I got a shoot in Palm Springs at the end of February that’ll be three days, going over a weekend.” He wasn’t looking forward to that one. The last shoot for TopMen had not gone well. There had been five or six guys staying in a house out in Palm Springs, and tempers had gotten a little frayed, to say the least. Two of the actors had complained that the company hadn’t provided enough food for the shoot, and shopping for more hadn’t been an option, given that the location was a tad remote. It had been bad enough that Ryan Prentice had already told Mike privately he wouldn’t be filming for TopMen anymore, unless they got their act together and put on the shoots in more hospitable locations.
Mike couldn’t blame him. What he couldn’t get over, however, was Alex Travis. Unlike Ryan’s low-key reaction, Alex had gone onto Twitter and very publicly lambasted their director. It had been downright ugly. Pete Harden, the director, had retaliated, declaring that if that was how Alex felt
, then Pete wouldn’t be happy about working with him in the future. It all left a sour taste in Mike’s mouth. He could only hope that the situation had improved by the next shoot. He didn’t have a clue who his costars would be, but then he hadn’t known the last time either.
He put his phone away and got on with wiping down the bar. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he glanced up to find Kevin staring at him. “What’s up with you?” Mike asked, not slowing in his task. He was tired, and he wanted to get home to his bed. If he was real lucky, it would still smell of Tommy.
The thought was both comforting and torturous.
Kevin studied him for a moment. “Yep, he’s good for ya.” He gave a smug little smile and carried on putting away the cleaned glasses behind the bar.
Mike waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he growled. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”
Kevin chuckled. “Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Tommy. Patrick and me, we’ve noticed, okay? You’ve been different since he showed up.”
“Is that so?” Mike threw down his cleaning rag and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re full of shit, y’know that?”
Kevin shook his head and laughed. Mike couldn’t let it go.
“Different how?”
Kevin straightened and faced him. “You’re more relaxed. You smile more. Laugh more. Stuff like that.” He winked. “’Course, if it was me banging that gorgeous ass, I’d be smiling too.” Kevin grinned.
“Ah, so you think it’s just the sex.” Mike shook his head and went back to his wiping.
“You mean it’s not?” That brought Kevin to a standstill. “Mike?”
Mike sighed and gave up on his cleaning. He leaned against the bar. “I like him, okay? I like talking with him. He’s… he’s smart, Kev, like really smart. We laugh. And yeah, the sex is good, but it’s not like we’re tearing each other’s clothes off the minute we get through my front door. Some weekends we don’t even fuck, we just… cuddle.” Mike laughed when Kevin’s eyes widened. “Yeah, really.”
A slow smile crept across Kevin’s face. “Well, day-um.” He lunged at Mike and hugged him, those thick tattooed arms squeezing him tight. “Hallelujah ’n’ praise Jesus, Mikey’s got himself a guy.” He released him and stepped back, eyes shining.
Mike snorted. “Don’t go getting ahead of yourself, now. We’re not a couple, okay?”
Kevin gave him a knowing look. “Give it time, Mike. Just give it time.”
Mike gazed at him intently. “You are not to go making out there’s more to this than there is, especially when Tommy’s here. You’ve seen what he’s like. Kid’ll probably die of sheer embarrassment.” He glared. “I mean it, Kev.”
Kevin held up his hands. “Okay, okay, I hear ya.” His eyes gleamed. “But you can’t blame a guy for thinkin’.” He tilted his head to one side. “So when you’re off filming in a few weeks’ time, you’re telling me you’re not gonna miss him?” He waggled his eyebrows and walked off around the bar, whistling.
Mike stared after him. His protestations sounded hollow, even to his ears. And Kevin had made a valid point, damn him. Never mind missing Tommy when he’d be away filming—it was getting so that he missed him from one weekend to the next.
The “we’re not a couple” argument was looking flimsier by the minute.
Chapter Nineteen
TOMMY WAS trying to do justice to the delicious dinner Caroline had prepared, but his belly was all knotted up. Every mouthful felt like he was trying to swallow a bowling ball, not that he was hungry anyway. His appetite was all shot to shit. Beside him, Ben was wolfing down chicken like he didn’t know when his next meal was coming. That was Ben, though. It took a lot to distract him from food, bless his heart.
Tommy gave up pushing his dinner around his plate and set down his silverware. He took a drink from his water glass and deliberately steered his thoughts away from their present course and onto the conversations that flowed around him. Caroline was listening to Bethany, who was regaling her with an animated account of what had happened that week at school. It seemed there’d been a major bust-up between Bethany’s friends, and some of the more popular girls had taken the issue onto Facebook. Caroline nodded and made noises in all the right areas, but being the lady she was, she didn’t talk much while she was eating. Benson was eating his dinner and giving long glances toward the financial papers that Caroline had taken away from him and placed out of reach. Every now and then he asked Ben a question about school, but Ben was too busy inhaling his dinner to provide any coherent answers.
Tommy loved these Friday nights. All the family gathered around the table for a meal, movies and popcorn later, a real sense of belonging….
And there he was, right back where he’d started, Momma’s letter gnawing at him.
“Tommy? Tommy?”
It took a second or two to register Caroline’s voice. Tommy jerked his head up and met her inquiring gaze. “Yes, ma’am?”
She studied him for a moment. “You all right, honey?” Her eyes were kind. “You were looking kinda lost there for a minute.”
Tommy swallowed. “I’m fine,” he lied. He wasn’t about to talk about this at the dinner table, if at all. Caroline peered intently at him and then gave a nod of acceptance. Tommy made a last-ditch attempt to eat a little more, but his stomach was having none of it. He wanted to leave the table, but he knew that would only raise questions afterward, so he sat there, his mind turning over and over Momma’s words.
With a shock he realized that dinner was over.
“Why don’t y’all go set up the movie?” Caroline suggested to her husband and children. “I don’t think we’ve chosen one yet that we all agree on. I’ll clean up in here.” She glanced at Tommy. “And you can help me fill the dishwasher, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy began collecting the dirty plates and rinsing them before loading them and the silverware into the dishwasher. Benson, Ben, and his sister disappeared, but he caught laughter and exclamations coming from the media room where they usually watched movies. Choosing a DVD was half the fun of Friday nights. Finding one that everyone wanted to watch was usually an exercise in compromise.
“So, you gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” Caroline paused in her task of setting up the coffee machine and regarded Tommy steadily. “And don’t lie to me, Tommy, because I know there’s something.”
Tommy sat down at the table, hands clasped in front of him. “I… I got a letter today. From my momma.”
“Oh?” Caroline left what she was doing and came to sit beside him, her hand reaching out to cover his, warm and soft. “This the first you’ve heard from her since Christmas, right?” He nodded. Caroline pursed her lips. “I’m assuming it wasn’t good.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “To be honest? After how my family was, I didn’t expect to hear from anyone. So this was kind of a shock. She said my daddy didn’t know she was writin’ to me.” Tommy’s mind went back to that awful day. It had been Momma who’d tried at the last minute to get him to change his mind.
“What did she say in the letter?” Caroline asked quietly.
He breathed in deeply before replying. “She wanted me to know that if I came home an’ agreed to have the therapy, all would be forgiven. That she loved me. An’ she believed in her heart that I would see ‘the error of my ways.’” Tommy closed his eyes. “She’s not gonna change her mind any more than I am, is she?”
A gentle hand stroked his hair, and the touch was so tender that he had to fight hard not to weep.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think so. Maybe it’s best if you see that now. Don’t hold on to a false hope.” He felt her lips press softly against his forehead. “Tommy, look at me.” He opened his eyes slowly and gazed at Caroline’s face. She smiled. “Any time you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you, y’hear? I can only imagine how hard it must be, not having the support and love of your parents. So if you ever need a substitute
momma? I’m it.” Her eyes sparkled as tears welled there, catching on her thick lashes, and she quickly wiped them away with her hand. “Look at me, getting all misty-eyed.”
Impulsively, Tommy threw his arms around her and hugged her, his face buried at her neck where he could smell her perfume, the subtle scent of jasmine. She held him, stroking his hair, his back, and then they parted. Caroline kissed his forehead once more. “You are precious, you hear me?”
Tommy smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
She rose up from the table and went over to the coffee machine. “Can I ask you somethin’?”
“Sure.” He joined her, collecting mugs from the cabinet for the coffee.
“How are things working out with… Mike, isn’t it?” She tilted her head to one side. “Or am I not supposed to ask that?”
Hell, there went his cheeks, burning up again. “Things are just fine. Thank you for askin’.” An’ please don’t ask me again, he begged silently.
“You haven’t said much about him, is all.” She got the cream jug from the refrigerator and set it on a tray. “So what does he do? Besides work in a gay bar.”
Tommy shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. We never talk about that.” He’d tried a few times to find out a little more about his—what do I call him? My boyfriend? Lover?—about Mike, but somehow the conversation had always gone off on a tangent, leaving Tommy none the wiser. But now he was thinking about it once again, that was for sure. How much do I know about Mike, beyond his taste in music an’ movies? He wasn’t even certain of Mike’s age.
Caroline arched her eyebrows. “’Course, that assumes you two actually do talk.” There was a glint in her eyes, and right then Tommy wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Yeah, sex takes up a lot of our time. How would Mike feel if I said “More talk, less sex”?
