Suspicion (Diversion Book 7) Page 19

  They spent the next half hour with Lucky giving a play by play of the goings on at work.

  Bo strode in with a backpack, parked Lucky’s laptop on Walter’s knees, and fired up the video.

  As Keith had done, Lucky remained quiet, letting the boss draw his own conclusions. Lucky poked Bo and nodded toward Walter’s reddening face.

  After two viewings Walter clicked off the screen. “I want everything you have by tomorrow morning.”

  ***

  The boys were asleep by the time Bo and Lucky got home, and a dishwasher full of dishes showed the results of Bo’s dinner instructions.

  Lucky dropped his suit jacket over the back of a kitchen chair. He patted his stomach, full of roast beef, potatoes, and macaroni pie. Maybe eating two servings of beef hid the fact that he’d avoided all vegetables.

  He put the wrapped plates Mrs. Smith sent for Todd and Ty in the refrigerator.

  Walter was back, maybe not completely, but his fifty percent beat most other people’s one hundred.

  No one else needed to know. At least not yet.

  Bo returned from the bedroom, sans jacket, stepped up and took both of Lucky’s hands. “It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed his fingers over Lucky’s, offering loads of reassurance in one small gesture. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  “Yeah, but we have to keep our mouths shut for a while.” Which might kill Lucky. He’d love to go strutting into the office, crowing to anyone who’d listen that O’Donoghue was on his way down.

  Lucky intended to send the lackeys with him.

  Bo wrapped a hand around the back of Lucky’s neck and pulled him close enough to lock lips. Lucky fought the urge to check over his shoulder to ensure his nephews weren’t watching.

  Too hell with it. Todd would soon be in college, where’d he’d likely encounter gay couples, if he hadn’t already. If it grossed the boys out to see their uncles kiss? Oh, well. Lucky’d had one hell of a day, and if he chose to take the comfort of a kiss, then he’d earned the right.

  He never intended to go further than a light kiss, but the heat escalated with each tongue stroke, with each slide of Bo’s hand down his arm.

  A moan escaped him, followed by another, and another.

  Locked in an embrace, they swayed together, working their way down the hall.

  A noise from the guest room brought their progress to a halt and they both eyed the door. Lucky listened long enough to figure out Moose and Cat Lucky wouldn’t be bothering him anytime soon.

  As one he and Bo let out a deep breath a few moments later when nothing else happened. Grinning like loons, they raced the remaining steps to their room and eased the door shut.

  The streetlight outside washed the room in a soft glow.

  Lucky winced at the click.

  “Would you relax?” Bo pressed his mouth to Lucky’s.

  Relax? With his nerves wound to the breaking point, nephews likely eavesdropping on their every word, and…

  Lucky broke away, locked the door, and turned on the stereo, loud enough to hopefully drown out any noises, but not loud enough to advertise what they did.

  Bo kissed him again, wiping away any thoughts beyond the here and now, tongue, lips, hands, skin and “Oh, right there!”

  They hadn’t really gotten started yet and already Lucky wanted to throw Bo on the bed and fuck him like there’d be no tomorrow.

  But there would be a tomorrow, and God willing, a tomorrow after that, and another, and another.

  A whole lifetime stretched out before them.

  He sucked at the base of Bo’s throat, reaching around to grab a double handful of Bo’s fabulous ass. Bo rocked toward him, hard-on apparent at the front of his suit pants. One good thing about suits—not nearly as thick as jeans and so much easier to remove.

  Lucky pressed his answering hardness against Bo’s thigh, untucking and running his hands up the back of Bo’s shirt. Sinewy muscles flexed under his fingertips, and Bo exhaled in breathy pants.

  “You like that?” Lucky stepped back and undid each button on Bo’s shirt, unveiling more skin for him to lick, kiss, and suck.

  “Yaaaaasssss!” Bo groaned.

  Lucky thrust the shirt off Bo’s shoulders and onto the floor. There! Much better. He attacked a nipple with his mouth, working the bit of flesh into a hard nub, then giving the other side the same treatment.

  Placing his hands firmly against Bo’s chest, Lucky sank onto his knees, dragging his fingers down Bo’s torso, sifting through Bo’s treasure trail, and settling at last on his belt buckle.

  Lucky made short work of buckle, button and zipper, careful of the inviting erection tenting out Bo’s boxer briefs.

  He mouthed the hard flesh through a layer of cotton, breathing deeply of the scent of man and pre-cum. Bit by bit he pulled the elastic away from Bo’s body and slipped the obstacle out of the way.

  Humming softly, he wrapped his mouth around the amazing fullness of Bo’s cock head, tasting the drop of fluid at the tip. He’d never grow tired of Bo’s taste, his smell—his everything.

  He reached down a hand and stroked himself through the dress pants he couldn’t wait to lose.

  Bo grabbed Lucky’s tie, urging him upward.

  Nothing beat an aggressive Bo.

  “When all this is over, I’m taking you to a cabin in the woods, with no one for miles around, and spend an entire weekend making you scream my name,” Bo murmured against Lucky’s ear. “Your lips will be swollen from sucking me, and you’ll be walking bow-legged for a week.”

  “Oh, you sweet talker, you.” Warmth flooded Lucky, the words Bo’s way of saying they were on the same page, together for the long haul.

  Yes, he wanted Bo to take him away, fuck him senseless for an entire weekend.

  He’d return the favor.

  Bo unknotted the tie from around Lucky’s neck and pulled one end. The silk slithered free of Lucky’s shirt. One side of his mouth lifting, Bo whispered, “For later,” and draped the material over his shoulder.

  Oh? Lucky’s cock stiffened even more.

  Bo unbuttoned Lucky’s shirt, and together they worked to remove each other’s remaining clothes.

  Moonlight poured in from the windows, casting shadows and light over Bo’s body. All defined muscles and sleek build. Perfection.

  Lucky ran his hand up Bo’s arms, hair prickling his fingers until the strands thinned to smooth skin on Bo’s upper arms and shoulders.

  He leaned in, brushing his lips over Bo’s. “God, but I love you,” he said, cutting off any reply Bo might have made with a bruising, tongue on tongue conquest of Bo’s mouth.

  The walls Lucky had once built around his heart lay in shambles at his feet along with discarded clothes.

  He traced his lips along Bo’s jaw, now lightly rough with stubble.

  Swaying from side to side brought his cock wonderful friction against Bo’s balls. With a firm push he sent Bo sprawling across the bed.

  Lucky dropped to his knees, spreading Bo’s legs wide, exposing all the lovely places he planned to put his tongue. He sucked one ball into his mouth, then the other, and dropped lower, wringing moans from Bo with his tongue and his breath.

  He wrapped a hand around Bo’s cock and stroked, matching the rhythm of his tongue and hand.

  Bo cried out, arching off the bed, and dropped down again when Lucky retreated.

  Again and again Lucky licked and sucked until Bo trembled, and each time stopped in time to keep Bo from tipping over the edge.

  “Tease,” Bo grumbled, but he let out a whimper when Lucky tongued him again.

  Lucky ached for release, or at least some friction, as he didn’t even touch himself, prolonging the torture. When he finally came, it’d be like Fourth of July and New Years’ all rolled into one.

  He repositioned himself, cock hanging over Bo’s mouth and his on Bo’s hard length. Moist heat caressed his flesh, and then, oh, damn, Bo licked a swath up Lucky’s cock. Lightning flashed behind his closed
eyelids and he drew in a breath.

  His arms trembled and he nearly fell. He steadied himself, focusing on Bo to stave off his fast approaching orgasm.

  The world spun, and when he glanced up, Bo hovered over him.

  Lucky’s cock cried out for relief when Bo reached into the nightstand, extracted a tube, and wet two fingers with lube.

  Bo’s fingers glistened in the low light and he stood, one foot on the floor and one on the bed, giving Lucky a show while he prepared himself.

  “Aahh!” …Lucky moaned on an exhale. “You’re killing me.”

  “La petite mort,” Bo replied.

  Whatever the hell that meant. Especially when Bo climbed back onto the bed, positioned himself, and slid down Lucky’s cock with a hiss.

  Lucky panted, the pleasure nearly too intense to bear. Bo squeezed Lucky’s cock, the smooth glide of his up and down motion bringing Lucky closer and closer to bliss.

  Oh damn, oh damn. Just a little more…

  Bo stopped. What the fuck. No! Don’t stop!

  “Two can play your game.” Bo grinned down at him.

  Lucky ran his palm across the glistening tip of Bo’s cock, wrapped his hand around the hard flesh, and pumped.

  “No fair!” Bo cried out, bracing his hands on Lucky’s chest and rocking back and forth.

  Lucky arched up, once, twice, three times…

  “Oh, fuck!” He fired pulse after pulse into Bo.

  “Lucky!” Bo tensed.

  Lucky grip grew slick, Bo’s come filling his hand.

  Aftershocks hit and Lucky lunged upward, riding waves of sheer ecstasy.

  That was… that was…

  “Damn!” he and Bo exclaimed together.

  Bo leaned over and ran his tongue along the seam of Lucky’s lips. Lucky gladly opened to him.

  All too soon he softened and slipped from Bo’s body. No matter how many times they were together, the encounters always ended too soon. If he had his way they’d be joined always, pleasing each other, loving each other, hiding out in each other’s arms, away from the cares of the world.

  Bo grabbed the remote from the nightstand, clicked off the stereo, and eased down beside Lucky, drawing Lucky’s head onto his chest. Bo’s heart ker-thumped under Lucky’s ear, and his chest rose and fell while they both recovered.

  They were coated in a sticky mess and should probably get up and take a shower, but right now Lucky couldn’t bring himself to give a happy damn.

  He never thought he’d ever find someone he could say the words to, and actually mean them, but “I love you” tripped from his lips so easily these days. And from his heart.

  “I love you too.” Bo planted a kiss on the top of Lucky’s head.

  They held each other, not saying a word. They needed nothing else in that moment to feel complete. Nothing at all.

  Tomorrow he’d have to deal with the real world.

  Tomorrow.

  Not now.

  Until… “I’m taking the Camaro. Uncle Lucky won’t mind” from down the hall broke the quiet.

  Lucky yanked on his boxers and charged from the room. “Oh, hell yes, he’ll mind!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucky let his nephews sleep in on Saturday. He’d had to take Todd’s side in last night’s argument, which didn’t endear him to Ty.

  The things he’d called his mother for forcing him to move hadn’t been pretty.

  Regardless of whether or not Ty thought classes lame, he still needed to do his homework, even if his older brother got to slack off another few days until college courses began.

  He sure as hell couldn’t take Lucky’s car without permission.

  Maybe Lucky could take him out later, just the two of them, and attempt some bonding without an older brother around to upstage him.

  Todd staggered into the kitchen around ten a.m., hair sleep-tousled.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead. Want some breakfast?” After last night’s shoutfest, Lucky kept his voice low. Sudden movements might not be good either. Teenagers, like wild animals, attacked with minimum provocation, though Todd didn’t rage nearly as easily as Ty.

  “Cereal’s good.” Todd traipsed to the pantry.

  “Is Ty still asleep?”

  Todd whirled around. “He got up hours ago. I figured he’d be watching TV by now.”

  The coffee in Lucky’s stomach roiled. “I haven’t seen him. Oh, shit.” The icy leaden ball in his stomach gave an awful churn. “What?”

  Todd didn’t answer, but raced through the house, checked the front and back yards, and the garage, Lucky trailing behind him.

  Todd scrubbed a hand over his face. “He kept saying he was going back home. I thought he was just running his mouth. He left his cell phone on the dresser.”

  Fuck. No tracking him, then.

  Lucky spent the rest of his day making phone calls and hunting his nephew.

  “No response on the missing person’s report,” Bo said, busy helping Lucky pace holes in the living room carpet. “Everybody and their brother on the force is looking for him.”

  “Atlanta’s no place for a teenager alone. Anything could happen.” Lucky’d worked in this city for over a dozen years. A sixteen-year-old could find plenty of trouble.

  Or trouble could find him.

  Bo interrupted Lucky’s pacing with a hand on his shoulder. “Look, he’s a smart kid. Chances are he’s someplace totally safe and he’ll be back once he calms down.”

  “Maybe we should check the mall again.” Doing something, anything, beat hanging around the house doing nothing. They’d called the few friends Todd named to no avail. Rett and the Smiths hadn’t seen Ty either.

  “Maybe we should wait. Did you ever run off when you got mad at your parents?”

  “No.” Not the total truth. “Yes. Maybe.” Lucky’d always managed to sneak home without his parents knowing, or managed to blackmail a cousin into covering for him.

  “You always came back, right?”

  “Yeah.” No matter what horror lurked outside the door, Lucky could hold his own. While his mother taught him to shoot with the best of them, did Ty know how to fight?

  “Then let’s give him a bit more time. Where did you look?” Bo touched a finger to his iPad and glanced up expectantly.

  “The mall, the skating rink, bowling alley, the parks, anyplace young people hang out.”

  Bo tapped at the iPad screen. “Where else?”

  “I drove through the neighborhood six times, checked the Smiths…” Lucky shuddered. “I called every precinct in Atlanta, and the teen shelters. Rett’s looking, and I checked with Mrs. Griggs. Everyone he knows in town.”

  “Todd and I went door to door asking the neighbors. We checked the club house and community swimming pool, the school campus, and the places we went to play Pokémon, but without his phone he can’t be gaming.”

  Ty should be there. Lucky would gladly put up with his lousy attitude if the kid just came home.

  Tongue between his teeth, Bo keyed information into his tablet. “Let’s go check again.”

  Bo drove slowly up and down the streets, taking them to the malls and any establishment still open.

  What if Lucky had talked to Ty sooner, or taken time off earlier to help him adjust? What if, what if, what if…

  He’d put off telling Charlotte about her missing son long enough. In the morning he’d go to the police department personally, even if it meant blowing his cover story of being out of town.

  Five minutes passed, then ten, twenty, thirty.

  After four hours they had to go home, empty-handed.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait up with you?” Bo asked, letting the dog and cat in for the night.

  “No. I’d love you to stay, but we both know it’s something I have to face myself. It’s not you he has a problem with.” Come hell or high water, he’d solve this problem, one way or another, before Charlotte returned.

  Had he been too hard on the kid?

&n
bsp; “Good night.” Bo brushed his lips over Lucky’s in the briefest of kisses. “Wake me up if you need me.” Moose and Cat Lucky trailed him down the hall.

  Todd strolled out of the kitchen. “Good night, Uncle Richie.”

  Lucky tried not to flinch. He’d grown unused to being “Richie.” Richie had died long ago. “Good night, Todd.” He rose and gave his nephew a hug, awkward at first, but then wholehearted. Damn, but he’d missed out on most of his nephews’ lives. If he’d been there, would things have been better or worse?

  Certainly Victor’s money would have ensured they never lacked for anything—as long as Victor stayed in the picture.

  As much as Lucky had loved the rich life, the clubs, the fancy restaurants, the expensive gifts, they weren’t him. No matter where he and Victor went, Lucky always felt out of place, like he didn’t belong.

  Out of place. He’d felt out of place.

  So did Ty.

  Lucky sat on the couch, waiting for his nephew, like his father had waited on him when he’d stayed out too late.

  Would Lucky one day find himself sitting in this house, waiting for his own kids to get home?

  He turned out the lights and paced. What would he say to Ty when he finally got home? Did he have any right to say anything at all?

  Oh, dear God! What if Ty didn’t return? Maybe he should drive around looking some more.

  Lucky neared the point of snatching up his keys when the front doorknob turned.

  He sucked in a deep breath, heart banging away in his chest. May he find the right words to say.

  The door eased open and a slim figure slipped through, shoes in hand, creeping toward the hallway and freedom.

  Lucky flipped on the lights. “Not so fast.”

  Ty froze, then bristled. “What do you want?”

  Lucky flinched at the venom in the words. “We’re going to talk. Come here and sit down.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I’m tired and going to bed.” Ty took a few steps toward the hall.

  Lucky swallowed hard. Pride didn’t go down easy. “Please. I only want to talk.” Could Lucky follow through? He eyeballed his glowering nephew. Oh, yes. To keep his nearest and dearest safe and lay down laws, he could.

  Ty stayed near the hallway. Finally, he sighed and crossed the room at a snail’s pace, flinging his tennis shoes to the floor. “Okay. I’m listening.”