By now Tommy had killed three more people, including two police officers, in Panama City Beach. For the past ten days, he had stayed in this one area, not moving on, and no one knew exactly why he was focusing his attacks there, in particular. They only knew that he had to be stopped.

Tucker walked into the Nightstick for the first time in several days. It had been three days since the latest murder, and there were still no leads on the killer. Just as frustrating was the fact he hadn’t been able to find anything on Gavin. He seemed to have disappeared again, and Tucker couldn’t even locate anyone who had even seen the man, other than Bryson. He was still kicking himself for not getting his last name, or where he was staying. He assumed he was a tourist, and had simply left town. The idea of never seeing him again was oddly painful, considering their brief acquaintance, but Tucker tried to shake it off and not think about it. One of the hazards of living in a tourist town was meeting someone only to find out he would be gone again in a few days. Most of the time, Tucker found that to be a convenience, and not a problem.

Still, after ordering a beer, he scanned the dimly lit interior. The typical crowd was in the room, some talking and laughing animatedly at the few tables scattered around the dance floor, and others crowding the bar, trying to get the waiter’s attention. No sign of Gavin, or anyone else that looked interesting, either. Tucker noticed one man leaning against a wall, holding a glass, but not drinking it. He was dark-haired and average-sized, his clothes upscale and a little formal for the beach crowd that normally packed this place. He was handsome in a preppy kind of way. He was staring at Tucker and raised his glass to him slightly when he saw him looking back. Tucker nodded at him, but turned back toward the bar, not in the mood to start something tonight. Besides, something about the guy gave him a distinct chill.

Loud voices behind him near the door caused him to turn back around, and he gave a start of surprise to see Gavin coming in the club with two other men. He had his arm slung around the shoulders of one of them and all three were laughing at somethinghe’d said. All three men were remarkably handsome, though to Tucker, Gavin stood out from the rest. Gavin straightened imperceptibly when he glanced up and saw Tucker, but didn’t remove his arm. The three of them went over to an empty table and sat down. Gavin whispered something, and all three of them looked over at him, but Gavin didn’t so much as even nod in greeting.

Embarrassed to be caught staring at them, and stung by Gavin’s apparent indifference, Tucker turned around and took another sip of his beer, hating the butterflies that were going crazy inside his stomach. He’d finish his beer and get out of there, he thought. It wasn’t his idea of a good time to watch Gavin with the two other guys, both of whom were almost as big and good-looking as Gavin was. Draining his beer, he started to push up from the bar when he felt a hand on his arm. Half-hoping, half-dreading it would be Gavin, he turned instead to find a guy he knew named Chase sliding onto the stool next to him. He and Chase had dated a few times, but there was nothing serious between them. They were more friends than anything else, and Tucker was glad to see him. It made him feel a little less of an idiot to have someone to talk to right then, and helped take his mind off the table behind him.

“How have you been, Tuck ? Haven’t seen you around the club in Ft. Walton lately,” Chase said softly, running his hand up Tucker’s sleeve. Chase was more of what Tucker had always thought to be his “type.” A real cutie, he was shorter than Tucker, slim, with an adorable little face that always seemed to be blushing. Chase and Tucker had met at a bar named Dirty Joe’s, a bar in the nearby town of Ft. Walton that attracted a mildly BDSM crowd on the weekends.

Tucker actually preferred to go out of town when he was looking for a hook-up. Even though Panama City attracted a steady influx of tourists, it was still a small town in many respects. Even though Ft. Walton was over an hour’s drive away, Tucker never wanted to chance running into someone he knew from work or, God forbid,someone he’d once arrested. The night with Gavin had been a serious aberration, and look how that had turned out.

Chase was pretty, but he was more into the S&M lifestyle than Tucker would ever be, and he really wanted a full-time partner. With Tucker, that wasn’t going to happen. He had no desire to settle down with anyone yet, but Chase was cute and sexy and fit the bill in the meantime.

“No, I haven’t been over to Ft. Walton in almost a month. Things here are keeping me pretty busy.” Tucker let his fingers graze Chase’s cheek. “You’re looking good tonight.”

Chase preened a little and leaned into his hand, turning his head toward Tucker’s palm to drop a soft kiss in it. “Want to dance, Tuck?” he asked seductively and Tucker smiled at him. He glanced around the club, finding no one he knew except for, of course, Gavin. Still, it was fairly early, and he might have refused if Gavin hadn’t still had his arm around one of the guys at his table. Fuck him. Let him see I have other options too.

“Sure I do, honey. Let’s go.” He slid off the stool and took Chase by the hand, leading him out on the small dance floor. Firmly refusing to let his mind wander back to the last time he was on this floor and what had happened after that, he pulled Chase into his arms and started swaying gently with him to the Maroon 5 song, One More Night, playing on the juke box.

Chase tucked his head into Tucker’s neck and pressed his groin tightly against him, grinding sensuously. Looping one arm around his neck, Chase’s other hand began to play around Tucker’s belt buckle and the top button on his jeans. Tucker put his hand over Chase’s, but Chase laughed softly and stuck his tongue inside Tucker’s ear, causing a shiver to run down Tucker’s back. He dropped his hand and let Chase dip down inside his pants, his fingers skimming over the head of Tucker’s cock. Why the fuck not? Two could play Gavin’s game.

A big hand seized Tucker’s neck from behind and pulled him roughly back into a solid chest, as another hard hand snaked around his waist to hold him in place. Chase stumbled back in confusion and looked up at the man holding Tucker tightly to him.

“Run along, honey,” Gavin said. “Find someone else to play with tonight. This one’s mine.”

Chase nodded and backed away, glancing in concern at Tucker, but obviously not wanting to cross the big angry man who had just taken control of his dance partner.

Outraged, Tucker tried to wrench himself out of Gavin’s arms, but he couldn’t move. The hand on his neck had slipped to his throat, and as it tightened, Tucker heard a low voice growling in his ear. “Trust me, you don’t want to do this here. We’re going in the back room.” The hands around his throat and waist fell away, and he felt a sharp push in his back. “March.”

In an agony of embarrassment, Tucker glanced over at Chase, who was standing nearby with his mouth open, staring at them. Tucker had always played a somewhat dominant role in the club at Ft. Walton, and now he was being manhandled and ordered around like a child. Another strong push on Tucker’s back got him moving, and he walked stiffly to the curtain that led to the back room, his face flaming. He got just inside when his anger overcame him completely and he jabbed his elbow sharply into Gavin’s stomach. Gavin expelled his breath in a satisfyingly painful sounding little oof before grabbing Tucker and slamming him back into the wall by the door. Gavin took Tucker’s balls in a punishing grip.

“Damn you, Tucker,” he growled in his ear. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What am I doing? Are you crazy? If you think I’m going to let you manhandle me, you’ve got another think com…”

Gavin’s other hand clapped over his mouth, banging Tucker’s head back into the wall so hard he actually saw little stars like in all the clichés. “Shut up,” he growled in his ear. “Just shut the hell up until I calm down.”

Tucker tried to break his hold unsuccessfully, and finally nodded, giving in—for now. Gavin leaned his forehead into his. He still held one hand over Tucker’s mouth while the other one clutched Tucker’s balls, but Gavin’s breathing began to slow down a little. Tucker held perfectly still, and slowly Gavineased his grip on Tucker’s balls, though he didn’t remove his hand.

“What is he to you?” Gavin’s voice was still gravelly, but seemed calmer.

“Idon’t see how it’s any of your goddamned…” Another hard squeeze of his balls made Tucker hiss in a breath sharply. “Okay, okay. Jesus! N-nothing, really. He’s just a friend.”

“You usually let friends feel you up on the dance floor?”

“H-he wasn’t—okay, maybe he was fooling around a little, but…”

“I don’t share, Tucker. I told you the first time I was with you that you were mine. Did I stutter?”

“I fail to see how what I do can be any of your business. How the hell can I be yours, when I don’t even know who you are! Youcome in here tonight with two other men, don’t even speak to me, and then expect me to…”

The hand clamped back down over his mouth again. “Damn it! Tell me you understand.”

After a long, tense few seconds, filled with lots of long breaths expelled from Tucker’s nose, he finally gave one quick nod of his head.

Gavindropped his hands to Tucker’s pants, still partially undone, and zipped them down all the way. Pulling them down past his knees with a rough motion, he turned Tucker around and slammed him back against the wall. Tucker’s rigid cock hit the wall and he winced. “You’re hurting me!”

“Not yet,” he said tersely, “but I’ll tear your ass up if I see you like that again. You understand?”

“Do you have a hearing problem? I said I did.”

A sharp slap on Tucker’s backside followed his remark. “You really want to be a smartass right now, Tucker?” Gavin smoothed a hand over the place he’d slapped, gentling the sting, while sucking the skin on the back of Tucker’s neck. “Bend over.”