THE crisp scent of fall swept the hospital smell off Bo, or maybe Lucky’d only imagined the disinfectant when he’d picked Bo up this morning.
The day had started off cool, but had warmed—the perfect late September day in Georgia. Best to enjoy being outside while he could, on a blanket on the ground by the river. With Bo. No better place on earth existed, even if Lucky had lied to Walter and everyone else about where they were.
In the back of Lucky’s mind, a clock ticked off the minutes until five p.m. would separate them again. He’d make the most of each moment and put their parting out of his mind completely until four.
“Did you take your medicine?” Not that Bo would forget, but withdrawal symptoms could really screw over their afternoon.
Even Bo’s eyerolls tugged at Lucky’s heartstrings. “Yes, mother.”
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Fine.” Bo rolled his shoulder and didn’t quite hide a wince.
“Need…”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you stop your fussing? You’re getting on my nerves.”
“But—”
“The only butt I wanna talk about is under your jeans.”
Okay, so apparently Bo wasn’t in danger of dying anytime soon. Still…“Sure I can’t get you anything?”
“If you ask me that one more time, I’m getting up from here to kick your ass.”
Now wasn’t the time to remind the man how he’d been bested in the ring by a cocky bantam rooster. One day soon they’d hit the ring again with spotters and orders for Bo not to hold back. “Okay. I’ve got a surprise for you. Close your eyes.”
Instead of obeying, Bo raised a skeptical brow. “What am I? Eight?”
“‘Bout that, yeah. Lucky me.” Lucky plastered on his most annoying grin, the one he used to piss off coworkers.
Face twisted into a scowl, Bo closed his eyes.
Lucky opened the cooler and pulled out the cake he’d run to town for earlier. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
Bo opened his eyes and opened them some more. “You remembered!”
How could Lucky forget? “Under the circumstances, I didn’t have time to get you anything.”
“You got me cake.”
“But I didn’t get you a gift.”
“I’ll take it out in trade. Now, what kind did you get me?”
Lucky smiled. “Carrot.” On top of the cake, along with “Happy Birthday, Bo”, was a frosting image, half carrot, half penis, harking back to the first meal they prepared together when Lucky had carved carrots into penis shapes. “I had to pay extra for the artwork.” Not to mention sign a disclaimer with the bakery, promising he’d never tell anyone who’d made the thing. But someone who avoided sugar and white flour like the plague made exceptions for birthday cakes, right?
Bo swiped a finger through the cream cheese frosting and popped it into his mouth. He sucked in his cheeks, giving a darn fine impression of a blowjob. “This tastes really good on my finger. I’ll bet it tastes better on you.”
“Oh, you sweet talker, you. Must be the sugar.” Lucky peeled off his T-shirt and flung it to the ground. He needed distraction from what waited for them at the end of their private celebration. And nobody did distraction better than Bo.
Bo stuck his finger into the frosting again, and this time smeared the gooey confection across Lucky’s chest. “I’m not usually one to eat sugar, but I’ll make an exception today.” He followed the trail with his mouth.
Lucky took care removing the sling from Bo’s arm, and they both wriggled out of their clothes. Bo loved outdoor sex. Lucky wanted Bo any way he could get him.
Then the vision of so much skin, after weeks of intermittent sightings, and all else fell by the wayside. Lucky sealed their mouths, tasting frosting on Bo’s tongue. He peppered kisses across Bo’s whiskered jaw, down his neck, and to the hollow of this throat. Bo’s moans vibrated against Lucky’s mouth and tongue. Now this would be a really good place for… He scooped cake to spread across Bo’s Adam’s apple and feasted off warm skin.
“You make a great plate.” Bo made a pretty great everything, truth be told.
“Yeah? Well, it’s my birthday, so I should get the first piece.” One handed, Bo rolled Lucky onto his back on the blanket, keeping the arm with the injured shoulder close to his body. With an evil grin, he decorated Lucky from neck to balls with birthday cake. He dug the carrot decoration out to place on the head of Lucky’s erection.
Smile never fading, he proceeded to lick off the sweetness. Oh, hell yeah! Lucky lay back, stared at the puffy white clouds overhead, and enjoyed his tongue bath.
“You like that?”
“Sure do. Can’t you tell?”
“Then you’re gonna love this.” Bo engulfed Lucky’s cock. The sugar carrot fell to the side.
“Oh, sweet mercy!” Lucky arched off the blanket. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, but the man sucked him just right. But Lucky wanted to play too. “Turn around.”
After a little shuffling, Lucky lined up for a mouthful of more than cake. Out here, where anyone could see them. A two-twenty current shot straight to his groin. Oh yeah. Maybe Bo brought out the exhibitionist in him.
Hands on Bo’s hipbones, he guided Bo’s cock into his mouth, thrusting up in perfect tempo with his own sucking. A light breeze raised goose bumps on his arms. Bo’s foreskin slid up and down under his lips, and he licked away a drop at the end of Bo’s cock.
Bo jerked away like Lucky’d bitten him. “No!” He dropped back on the blanket, hands in his lap.
“What do you mean no? No, you don’t want to come in my mouth, or no, you don’t want to come at all?” What the hell had gotten into the man?
Bo dragged his jeans across the blanket by one leg and fished in the pocket for two items: one they needed, and one they didn’t. He lowered his gaze.
“Look, Bo. We’ve been over this. I agreed we didn’t have to use those anymore.” He stared at the foil packet in Bo’s hand. Surely this wasn’t a confession. When had Bo been with someone else? Oh dear God, no. “Stephan didn’t…” Once Lucky killed the son of a bitch, he’d find a way to bring him back and kill him all over again.
“No. He tried, but eventually gave up when you got there.” Bo still didn’t look up. “I used a condom the day you came to my place, remember? The needles. The drugs. Lucky, you have to practice safe sex with an intravenous drug abuser.”
“You ain’t no abuser.” And Lucky would take a fist to anyone who dared accuse Bo of such.
“It was drugs. I got them IV. Every morning they lined us up, and I can’t be sure they used clean needles.” Lines formed around Bo’s frown.
An image Lucky didn’t want stuck in his head. Bo, left with no choice but to roll up his sleeves or walk away from a case empty handed. “Okay, yeah, but don’t call yourself an abuser.”
“I dunno, Lucky. That was some mighty fine shit.” Bo stared at his hands. “I can’t be sure, you know? Actually, neither of us can be sure after Aureo.”
Lucky knee-walked over to Bo’s side. “Can’t be sure of what?”
“What if…Between HIV and Hepatitis C, you need to get tested. They took my blood at the hospital, but I haven’t gotten results back yet. And even when I do, I’ll have to wait a bit and retest.”
Stephan would die three times. Painfully. Maybe four. Lucky took a minute to pry the condom out of Bo’s hand. “Bo, look at me.” Shimmering brown eyes met Lucky’s. “Good. Don’t ever avoid me. If we have a problem, we need to talk about it.” Where the hell had that come from? It sounded good, felt even better, and tasted like the truth.
“It’s not your problem, it’s mine.” Bo tried to glance away.
Lucky caught him by the chin. “It’s not you or me anymore, didn’t you get the memo? We’re in this together. I say we don’t need this.” He tossed the condom to the blanket.
Bo picked it up again. “No. Not in this. I won’t expose you. Bad enough you may have been already.”
Sometimes words weren’t enough. Lucky wrapped his arms around his man and kissed him. They fell to the blanket, Lucky above, Bo beneath. “Where were we now?” He decorated Bo’s nose with cake and kissed the crumbs off. Bo blinked hard but forced a smile.
Lucky would kill for an appearance of The Dimple.
They came together chest against chest, mouth against mouth, groin against groin. Lucky picked his battles and didn’t comment when Bo unrolled the condom onto his cock. He found the discarded lube on the blanket, squirted the contents against Bo’s hole, and slid his finger inside. Tight heat welcomed him to the wonders of his lover’s body. He worked the muscles into pliancy, reaching deep to caress Bo’s gland.
Bo’s whiskers scratched Lucky’s face as they moaned into each other’s mouths. There was no urgency this time, no stolen, hurried moments, no one lurking around the corner. Just the two of them, in their own little world.
Lucky rolled Bo over onto his back and eased inside, closing his eyes against the pleasure.
“Look at me,” Bo whispered.
He gazed down at the man he’d once criticized for being too perfect. Now, all his known flaws made him far more amazing, beyond simple perfection.
Slowly Lucky worked himself in deeper, watching Bo’s face. Bo lifted his legs and hooked his feet over Lucky’s thighs. They rocked together, picking up the pace.
Bo dug his fingers into Lucky’s biceps. “I missed this so damn bad.”
Lucky didn’t want to dwell on missing with more time apart looming. He shut off his brain and focused on the cadence of their loving, the breathy sounds Bo made, his own throaty groans. And in the background, birdsong.
“Oh God, oh God,” Bo chanted. He bucked up to meet Lucky’s strokes with each chant.
Lucky reached down to cup Bo’s ass in his hands, hoisting him up for a better angle. The ecstasy on Bo’s face made the loss of kissing distance worthwhile. “You’re gorgeous,” Lucky grunted out. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Bo’s babbling became more sounds than words, until…“I’m coming!” He reached down and grabbed the base of his cock with one hand, stroking with the other. “Ah, ah, ah!” His face contorted and every muscle seized. The cords of his neck stood out. Splatters hit his stomach, and his internal walls squeezed Lucky tight.
Lucky let go, burying himself as far as he could go. Weight braced on his arms, he rode out the storm. He opened his eyes to find Bo’s wide smile, though his eyes were misty.
“I…”
Chirping sounded from the vicinity of Lucky’s jeans. Bo’s smile vanished. He rolled his head toward the offending clothing and barked, “Not fucking now!”
Lucky sagged down over Bo. Not now, not now, not now. “Fuck.”
“We were. Can’t we get any peace at all? He doesn’t make a move on us in months, and now he can’t damned leave us alone for two seconds.”
The phone stopped ringing. Lucky pulled Bo close. “There, it must not have been important. Where were we?”
The phone rang again.
“Motherfuck…”
“You reckon he’d believe that it fell in the lake by accident?” The hint of Cyrus peering from Bo’s eyes said he’d do it.
The ringing stopped and started again. Why couldn’t the world go the hell away?
“Damn it!” Bo sighed. “I reckon you better get that.”
“Ignore it, maybe he’ll get the message.”
“It’s the boss. He wants you. He’s not going away.”
“We could try.”
“Lucky, that’s your work phone. You’re required to answer.” Yeah, and couldn’t Walter have waited a damned day or two before giving him back his phone?
Now was not the time to tell Bo about requesting a partnership leave. Or about coming out to the boss.
The phone continued to chirp. Bo continued to stare.
“This is more important.”
“Yes, it is. But he’s more annoying.”
The phone stopped chirping.
“See? He’ll probably leave a message.”
The phone started chirping again. Lucky sighed. “Oh, all right.” He grabbed his jeans leg, tugged them over, and fished the intruder out of his pocket. “Harrison here.” For the moment.
“Ah, good. I caught you. Are you busy?” Walter Smith was the last damned person Lucky wanted to talk to right now.
“Just enjoying a bit of birthday cake with a coworker. What’s up?” And it better fucking be important.
Lucky pulled out of Bo and folded a blanket edge over him. As discreetly as possible, he rolled off the condom and stashed it in a paper napkin.
“I know you had plans for the weekend, but I need to see you Monday morning.”
“I thought I didn’t have to do that.” No way in hell would he let Bo in on the leave.
“You have paperwork to sign. Your leave was approved, and we need a complete report of what happened in Mexico. Also, I’m told that if you don’t report to Human Resources within a week, they’re issuing a warrant for your arrest. Accounting is trying to close out the fiscal year, and I quote ‘Simon Harrison is single-handedly responsible if we can’t.’ End quote.”
“All right, all right. But it better not take long.” No telling what the bean counters wanted. Maybe he’d forgotten to sign a tax form or something.
The upbeat tone left Walter’s voice. “And there’s another matter for us to discuss.”
Oh shit. Maybe Walter had somehow found out about the man Lucky shot. He’d deal with that, he really would. One day. “What’s that?”
“The inquiry into the missing coroner’s report.”
“You’re not going to tell me over the phone, are you?”
“No. I haven’t received the report yet but have been assured I’ll know something by Monday morning. I’ll expect you in my office at nine o’clock. One more thing?”
“Yes?”
“Wish Bo a happy birthday. But Lucky?” Walter’s voice lost its humor. “He’s scheduled to check in at Magnolia Center by five. Please don’t make me call out a search party.”
“I won’t.”
Bastard.
***
“Are you sure about this?” The squat brick building brought to mind the Durham Correctional Center, for all its hoity-toity name. Lucky shivered. He couldn’t drive off and leave Bo here. He simply couldn’t. Magnolia Center his ass. Lockdown Central was more fitting.
“We’ve been over this. I need to prove to myself and the boss that I’m not going to relapse.” It wasn’t Bo’s fault he’d been forcibly injected at the whims of a madman—a madman whose days were numbered if Lucky had any say on the matter. Just you wait, Stephan Mangiardi. Just you wait. One day you’ll turn around, and I’ll be the last thing you see, for Bo and all the others you hurt.
Victor may have prized family, but being disowned created a whole new definition of the word. Family now revolved around a sister and nephews Lucky never saw, and the man at his side.
Bo got out of Lucky’s Camaro, taking Lucky’s heart with him. He rounded the hood, arm still in a sling and a packed duffle over his good shoulder. He stopped when Lucky rolled down the window. “Take care of yourself.”
Bo leaned down through the window. “You too. And no going after drug lords without me.”
“Would I do that?” Lucky faked innocence.
“Not if you value your life.”
When Bo touched their lips together, Lucky wouldn’t have pulled away if the whole damned department watched. “Sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”
“I have to take this step on my own. There’s twelve of them, you know.” Bo’s half-hearted smile stopped well short of his eyes. “You should have checked yourself in too.”
“I’ll deal with my problems on my own. Been there, done that.” Now wasn’t the time to mention Lucky’s issues would be a walk in the park compared to Bo’s.
Bo kissed Lucky again. “I love you.” He stepped away, eyeing the ground. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you not visit. I…I might not be myself.”
“Half the time you’re not yourself, you’re Cyrus.” And if Cyrus got Bo through the bad time, then Lucky owed the guy a favor. “That hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“That’s different.”
No. Lucky couldn’t stay away. No way, no how. “I don’t care who you are. I love you, and I’ll be waiting.”
Bo’s wavering smile blossomed into something more genuine. “I’m counting on it.”
Lucky sat in the car watching long after Bo lumbered up the walkway and disappeared into the building, fingers against his chin where the rasp of Bo’s stubble lingered. “I’ll be waiting. Waiting to take you home.” Lucky picked up his phone and dialed the Realtor’s office, ignoring the trembling in his hands. This year he’d get Bo something for his birthday the man would never forget.
A home.