BOBBY PUT HIS CLOTHES ON as quickly as he could, trying his damnedest not to look up at his father, still sitting naked on the bed. He fumbled nervously, buttoning his pants.
He was shaking.
Badly.
As he struggled to dress himself, neither he nor his father said a word. Finally, after an unbearably long silence, the elder Coyle spoke. “Not exactly the kind of situation a father dreams of.”
Bobby could feel the anger rising. The condescending prick had always had that effect on him. He looked up angrily. “Don’t you get high and mighty with me, asshole. Five minutes ago you were trying to get me to suck your cock.”
“Please don’t,” his father said.
Bobby knew he’d hurt his father, but he didn’t care. The bastard deserved it. He was a coldhearted son of a b***h; always had been, always w
