Tommy Sear


The sight of the petite foreigner had hit him with a one-two punch. One to his cock, which jerked to attention, the other to his stomach or his heart, Tommy wasn’t sure. The stranger was still talking and the honey-suck-me-voice coupled with the trim body had Tommy almost choking on the excess salvia that flooded his mouth. Head spinning, he grabbed an apron and walked closer to get a better look. His fuck-is-this-really-happening meter ratcheted up a notch. He’d never deny his fetish for men of the Asian persuasion, but Philip was the personification of every manga-induced fantasy Tommy ever had. The man was fucking gorgeous.

Yeah he’s fucking gorgeous… and hot! Too hot for a casual hookup…too hot for you. Tommy sighed and bounced his forehead against his arms. The problem was Philip was not hook up material. Philip was end game material anyone could see that.


Grabbing the body spray he spritzed the air and walked through the dew, wondering if he should tell Philip he was a musician. What the hell else am I gonna talk about? He eased the collarless black dress shirt out of the garment bag and slipped it on. Strolling to the full-length mirror in the corner wall, he buttoned up and smoothed the silky material. Be up front…honesty is the best policy. He doubted his ability to keep his trap shut, music was his passion. Just thinking about Philip’s heart-shaped face made his passion rise, so yeah, he was sure to spill. It was either talk or chance sucking on the little guy’s lush lips and he was sure that wouldn’t win him any brownie points on their first date. There it was again, that word… date.

He ran his fingers through his hair, angling his head to avoid the warp in the mirror. He almost missed Janie’s soft knock.

“Your guest has arrived… you decent?” She waited a millisecond and gaped the door. “Oh my God Tommy, he is so cute,” she whispered. “Don’t fuck this up.” Her brown eyes shot daggers at him.

“What, you want him for yourself?” He drawled and spun to face her. “I’m 99% sure that he plays for my team, darling.” He grinned at her eye roll. “But I can let it slip that you’re crushing on him if you think you stand a chance?” He preened and sauntered toward her.

“Don’t you dare!” Her eyes widened. “Wow, you must really like him, that’s one of your show shirts!”

Tommy pushed past her and scowled. “What, this old thing? I wear this all the time.”

She mouthed something back at him but Tommy was staring at his date. Philip stood in the dining area looking out the window. Fuck me! He stared at the taut curves of Philip’s olive-clad ass wondering at the well-pronounced muscles delineated by the snug denim. Maybe he was crazy, but he thought he saw muscle striations… in his ass? Was he some kind of gym bunny… maybe a personal trainer or a gymnast? Swallowing, Tommy gave a low wolf whistle.

“Hey good-looking!”

Philip turned, waved and then seemed embarrassed to have made the gesture.

Tommy grinned. “Sorry to keep you waiting. You look good enough to eat…you hungry?” He bit back the need to hug the slim man, but snaked an arm around Philip’s shoulder and walked him toward the exit. “I figured we’d go to the mall first. Lots of places to eat and you can see a bunch of stuff in one stop. You ever gone to an American mall?”

“Um, not really… I’ve seen them online though. Sounds great.” A frown puckered the creamy forehead. “Why are there so few vending machines in America?”

“You’re not kidding me are you?” Tommy raised one eyebrow and studied Philip’s confused expression. “Wait, there really are vending machines all over the place in Japan? Like in manga?” Tommy chuckled and guided Philip to his pride and joy; his vintage 1968 Camaro Z/28.

“Wow, nice ride, dude.” Philip’s eyes widened. He shook off Tommy’s arm and rounded the car admiring its sleek lines. When Tommy unlocked the door, Philip slid inside, studying the interior dash until Tommy joined him.

“You read manga?” Philip smirked. “Let me guess… you think I look like a manga character, huh?”

Tommy turned on the ignition and revved the engine, refusing to be embarrassed. “U-uh, yeah, I don’t own any, but I read it online… and I refuse to answer the second question on the grounds that you might think I’m an ugly American. I think you are gorgeous and different and I‘m looking forward to—“ He glanced at Philip and saw the knowing look in the smoky eyes. “Oh fuck it. Yeah, I think you look like a manga character, but don’t hold it against me.”

“S’okay… I think you look like Tommy Gavin…like, REALLY look like him.”

They grinned at each other and then started laughing. Moments passed before Tommy sobered enough to maneuver the Camaro into the traffic.

Excerpt from WIP: Dojo Boys: The Italian Connection Volume I   coming Summer 2017

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