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In a heartbeat, the shots appeared in front of them, and Parker knocked his back.
Lemon drops had been nearly a tradition when Robby’d been a regular here. He tugged at the neckline of his own too-tight shirt.
“I haven’t seen you in forever, dove, and look at those strong shoulders of yours. Where have you been hiding?” Parker pushed a shot his way.
Robby ignored it. With his history, booze was a slippery slope. “I’ve been working. Saving up. I haven’t really been out in a while.”
“Not since you broke up with John.” Parker nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “I should probably tell you, he’s here.”
A bubble of apprehension tickled Robby’s chest, but it mingled with a dozen other emotions coming up at the same time: nostalgia, longing, anger. He tried to distance himself from the onslaught. “How is he?”
Parker tilted his head to the side, then bounced it to the other and back again. “He’s John. Bossy. In control. Delicious Daddy.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He forced himself to act like it was normal talking about his ex. Like he hadn’t spent the last five years trying to forget their time together had ever happened.
The salacious look on Parker’s face fell away. “He was a bear for the first few months—and I don’t mean in the obvious way. He loved you. It was a shock when you left.”
Probably because John kept his boys until they grew too old for his taste. Rarely did one leave of his own choosing. “A shock, yeah. But love? I wouldn’t assign emotions to it. You know how those arrangements work. I was his property, not his partner.”
Parker shrugged, but the careless effect was strained. “You make it sound like it’s all bad. I like feeling like I belong to somebody.”
There was belonging to someone and there wasbelonging to someone.For more than a year, John had controlled every aspect of his life, from the clothes he wore to the food he ate. John chose his friends and his entertainment. And he called all the shots in the bedroom. If Robby had an opinion on any of it, he kept it to himself or faced the consequences.
“I guess I’ve changed,” he said grimly. He pushed the shot in front of him back toward Parker.
“Maybe you want somebody to belong to you now.”
Parker’s hand on his sent a chill up his spine. He knew what the man was suggesting. Attractive as Parker was, there wasn’t even a temptation to say yes. He eased the man’s hand away and took a small step back.
A subtle nod from Parker told him he understood.
“I think I’m just going to dance a bit. Enjoy the music.” He took another step back, then spun on his heel. Parker’s offer had made him a little sad.
But he wasn’t here to wallow. He was here to have a good time. At twenty-three, he was no longer fresh meat. Things could be different this time. He’d been lonely for so long.
For the first time in his life, he had close friends. But watching their domestic bliss reminded him day in and day out what he was still missing…someone of his own. A relationship, in a perfect world, but right now, he’d settle for a square jaw and broad shoulders. Maybe tonight, his self-imposed chastity could finally come to an end.
After just seconds on the dance floor, a set of strong hands gripped his hips and a solid body pressed at his back. Though he couldn’t see the man’s face, he gave in to the pleasure of the guy grinding against him. Moments later, another dancer in front of him closed in. The new guy was Hispanic and thick with muscles. Decked out in a mesh white shirt over hairless brown skin, the man smelled of a musky aftershave, which made Robby’s libido stand up and take notice.
He closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of being sandwiched between the two men. The erection of the man behind him ground into his backside as the guy in front of him pushed the evidence of his arousal against his pelvis. The strobe lights flashed bright, even through his eyelids. The driving tempo of the music echoed in his bones.
He nearly drowned in a sea of sensations when warm, wet lips trailed over the skin of his neck. Shuddering, he clasped his hand gently behind his partner’s neck. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be wanted.
His hips moved restlessly, seeking the friction the other man provided.
Then, suddenly, the Hispanic guy disappeared, and the dancer behind him gasped and scurried back.
He opened his eyes and, for a moment, forgot to breathe. Until a firm grip circled his upper arm and pulled him off the dance floor, toward the bar.
It was no mystery why there was now a five-foot bubble of empty space surrounding him. John Madigan was not a huge man, not particularly tall or muscular, but his presence was undeniable. He exuded a power borne entirely of his will.
Though in his early forties by now, his ex still had his college-professor type of good looks. Robby had always thought he looked a little like Liam Neeson in the movie he made with Jodie Foster.
John’s brown hair still parted on the left. Only now, there were a few streaks of gray. He had a few more soft lines around his hazel eyes, but there was nothing else soft about his face. His jaw was hard, and his gaze locked on Robby like a laser beam.
“I thought he was lying.” John squeezed his arm tighter.
Robby accepted the pain for a moment, before he realized he could shake off the man’s grip.
