Reunion: Diversion Six Page 21

  Lucky pecked away on the keyboard, sifting through data for something relevant. Interesting, not so interesting. What have we here?

  Lucky’d nearly put his findings together when Bo stepped into the cube. “Thought I’d find you here. Boss wants you.”

  Maybe he’d found something, maybe he planned to make good on his threat to toss Lucky out of the building.

  Bo stopped before the closed conference room door. He said nothing, merely took Lucky into his arms and held him close.

  Spending a week in Bo’s arms would make one hellacious vacation, but Lucky had questions, and the answers might be on the other side of the door. He’d take a raincheck on the holding.

  He pushed open the door to his doom, heart skipping a beat. “You sent for me.”

  “Sit down.” Walter shoved his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

  Lucky took a seat next to his boss.

  “How much do you know about your brother in recent years?” Dark circles underscored the boss’s eyes.

  “He’s a no-account asshole.”

  “From what I’ve seen,” Walter waved at the pile of papers, “I’m inclined to agree. What else?”

  “He liked to live high on the hog, as my grandparents might say. Why?”

  Walter traded a look with Bo, who moved behind Lucky’s chair and massaged Lucky’s shoulders. Oh shit. Must be awful.

  “Lucky, it seems Bristol Lucklighter loved his family very much,” Walter began.

  “What? Bristol? Bristol never cared about anyone but Bristol.” Maybe Walter had the wrong Bristol Lucklighter.

  “He did. He cared so much, in fact, that he carried a life insurance policy on each of you.”

  “He did what?” Lucky sprung out of his chair. Oh fuck! Ouch! He held his incision.

  “It seems he even carried a policy on you, as sole beneficiary. When you died, he collected a half million dollars.” The document on Walter’s computer screen showed one hell of a lot of zeros.

  “Sonofabitch.” Lucky clutched his head to keep a sudden brilliant flash of the obvious from exploding his brain. “And he had one on Dad, too, didn’t he?”

  Walter punched a few keys and another form appeared. “Yes.”

  “’Sonofabitch’ doesn’t quite cover this one.” Instead of helping Dad, the bastard hoped the man would die so he could line his pockets.

  “Now we have our motive. Your being alive makes things inconvenient for a man who’d cashed in your life insurance policy. Especially when he appears to be broke.”

  The big house, the fancy car. All paid for by a dead brother. But… “Go back farther.”

  “Already on it,” one of the rookies spoke from down the table. “Here it is. A policy for Daytona Lucklighter, taken out fifteen years ago.”

  About the time the kid started messing with drugs. “He tried to kill Daytona and pin it on me.”

  Walter nodded. “A decent theory.”

  “Not only did he want Daytona’s insurance money, he’d always wanted to be the oldest son. He couldn’t stand me being the oldest.” Twisted little bastard.

  “But how do we prove he gave Daytona the drugs?” Bo went back to massaging Lucky’s shoulders.

  Walter frowned at his empty coffee cup. “We need to interview Daytona Lucklighter again.”

  ***

  Lucky waited at the house, pacing the living room. At long last, Bo pulled into the drive. Good. He started the tea maker for Bo’s green tea and pulled a casserole dish out of the microwave. Chinese takeout, but still, Lucky did put dinner on the table.

  He’d even gone to Mrs. Griggs and the Smiths’ to get the pets and put Moose in the backyard until after they ate.

  The day took its toll. Lucky sagged down into a chair.

  Any minute Bo would come in, they’d have dinner, and he’d reacquaint himself with every inch of his lover’s body.

  And then grill him about the case.

  Yeah, sounded like a plan.

  “Lucky? Lucky!”

  “Huh?” Lucky raised his head. How’d he gotten his face into a plateful of chow mein?

  “Lucky, you’re dead tired. Go to bed.” Bo mopped at Lucky’s face with a paper towel.

  “What?”

  “You fell asleep in your food. Go to bed.”

  “Don’t wanna. Not without you.” He still owed Bo one for stealing his clothes, and oh the creative ways he’d take his payback. When he worked up enough energy.

  “Come on, then, I’ll go with you.” Bo guided Lucky to the bedroom, eased him down on the bed, and proceeded to strip him.

  “Oh! Getting me naked so you can have your way with me, right?” Lucky’s dick tried to rally but didn’t get very far.

  “Yeah. I’m going to take advantage of a man too exhausted to eat.”

  “Give me a minute, I’ll be okay.” And he would be too, especially with Bo stretched out beside him. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Bo examined the Steri-Strip over Lucky’s incision.

  “Yup, I’m sure.” Oh, hell, yeah!

  Bo stood, wearing a playful smile and fewer clothes by the minute. What a body. What a cock. What a…

  Lucky woke up with the sun streaming through the window, an empty bed, and a note: “Walter called me in. Said it was important. I’ll let you know what time I’m coming home.

  Damn it!

  ***

  Lucky tiptoed by the SNB reception desk even though Lisa wasn’t there to question his being at work, and hauled ass for the SNB conference room. Bo, Walter, the rookies, Jimmy, and Daytona occupied chairs around the central rectangular table.

  Daytona? Here?

  “Oh, Lucky. Right on time.” Trust Walter to pretend nothing happened by accident.

  Lucky nodded and planted his ass halfway between Bo and Daytona. They played questions and answers, Lucky keeping his mouth shut at a narrow-eyed glower from Bo. Yeah, observer. Not his case.

  During a break, Daytona asked, “So, it really wasn’t you?” He appeared more his old self, less haggard, less pressed down by the weight of the world.

  “To be honest, I’m kinda put out you ever believed I’d tempt you, after all you’d gone through. Come on, would I spend that kind of money on a twerp like you?” How easy old habits came back. Lucky teased Daytona, but gently. The kid used to run to Mama quicker’n shit.

  Daytona chuckled and smiled for the first time since their recent reunion. “Nah. You wouldn’t. I’m glad. I’ve missed you.”

  Lucky fought the flinch when his brother grabbed him too tightly.

  When Daytona pulled back, his eyes glistened.

  More time to catch up later. Right now they had a case to build. “We got a problem to figure out,” Lucky said.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t send you the drugs, but who did?” No need telling the kid about Bristol’s penchant for insuring relatives.

  Daytona squared his shoulders. “Easy enough. And I should’ve figured this out too.”

  “What?”

  “Bristol sent me a birthday present the same year you did, the only one he ever gave me.” Daytona tapped his fingertips on the table.

  Walter ambled down to their end of the table. “What did he give you?”

  “The video game I’d been wanting.”

  ***

  Sunlight gave way to shadows in the conference room when Walter finally called it a day, amid empty soda cans, coffee cups, and pizza boxes. Lucky pitied housekeeping.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay?” Even not at his best, he’d put on a burst of energy for his kid brother. “We got an extra room.”

  Daytona hung his head. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

  Jimmy rose from his chair and rounded the table to join Lucky and Daytona. “It’s imperative to our case that Bristol finds out nothing. Daytona returned his car and said he couldn’t find you. Even so, long absences might get attention.”

  “In the m
eantime, Lucky, you’ll continue to be watched.” Walter made his presence known, his glare warning Lucky against arguing.

  Lucky never had been one to heed warnings. “Not the rookie from IT again.” Nothing subtle about Keith’s latest protégé. “Bo’ll be there. Why can’t he watch me?”

  Bo stayed silent.

  Oh, hell. “You won’t be here.”

  “I have to be back to Richmond first thing Monday morning, so I need to head out Sunday.” Bo finally glanced up, lips pursed and lines showing around his mouth. Damn, but now would be a fine time for an appearance of The Dimple, and, “Just kidding! I never have to leave you again!”

  No brother, no lover. Alone with the pets.

  “Take care of yourself, bro.” Day gave Lucky an enthusiastic hug and traipsed along after Jimmy out of the room.

  “I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Walter gave the rookies his well-practiced, over-the-top-of-his-glasses glare. “You may continue working in your cubes.” Wow. Nicest “get the hell out of here” Lucky’d ever heard. The rookies shot out the door.

  Walter closed the door behind him, leaving Lucky alone with Bo. Lucky strolled over to the window slowly, listening for Bo’s footsteps. In the distance, Stone Mountain kept watch over the city of Atlanta.

  Once he’d walked up behind Bo here, put his arms around his man as Bo did now to Lucky. Lucky leaned back into the embrace.

  “Hell of a time for you to have to leave. Can’t they reassign you back down here?” Tonight, Lucky wouldn’t fall asleep too soon. He might not be ready to run marathons, but he could… do something. Needed something. Before he exploded from lack of sex.

  Bo brushed his lips against Lucky’s temple. “I have to. Gotta finish what we started. Then I’ll be home.”

  And forevermore one of them would leave, and the other stay, tossing and turning at night and worrying, visualizing their lover’s face on the SNB memorial page.

  “I don’t like you being gone all the time. Or me neither.” They’d done very little living together since deciding to live together.

  “I know. But it’s only for a little while.”

  “You can’t know that. Little whiles have a way of turning into big whiles.” Or really big whiles.

  Bo ruffled Lucky’s hair with his sigh. “What can I do? I have a job. A case. You better than anyone should understand.”

  “I understand and don’t like it. Is this how the rest of our lives will be? Always apart for some case or other.” Not the vision of picket-fence domestic bliss Bo claimed to want. “We’ve done our time. Nothing’s making us stay here.” They could find other jobs. Do something not requiring being shot at, or shot up.

  “We’re good at what we do, and do we even know how to do anything else?”

  Lucky did—mostly illegal stuff. “You got a college degree.”

  “I could never go back into a pharmacy. You know that. And pharma companies wouldn’t be a good bet, either.”

  No, they wouldn’t. Not with all the temptation they’d offer a recovering addict. “Just the same. I don’t like you being gone. I don’t like the dangerous work you do.”

  Bo snorted. “And your work isn’t dangerous?”

  “Not anymore, unless some overexcited rookie misses a target and shoots me. And being raised redneck taught me how to duck.” Bo wanted kids. Maybe Lucky did too. Wouldn’t be fair to bring a child into their unstable lives.

  Bo answered with kisses on the back of Lucky’s neck. Lucky turned. Rising on his toes might hurt, so he stayed still, summoning Bo down to his height.

  Bo opened his mouth for Lucky’s tongue, moaning when they connected. The scent of him, the feel of him in Lucky’s arms—oh God, he needed Bo now.

  Anyone might walk in, but getting caught during an intimate moment didn’t matter. Lucky ran his fingers up Bo’s arms, resting his hands on Bo’s broad shoulders. So familiar, yet so new at the same time. Their moans mingled, vibrating through their joined tongues.

  Lucky traced Bo’s jawline with his fingertips, the slightly crooked nose, a day’s worth of stubble adding interest. He stepped close enough to rub his cock against Bo’s leg through their pants.

  Bo clutched him tighter, just shy of painful. A moment later pain couldn’t reach him, only Bo’s hand, climbing up under his shirt, knuckles teasing Lucky’s nipples.

  The meeting of tongues and bodies continued. They shouldn’t be doing this here, but right now Lucky couldn’t remember why.

  Bo pulled back, a bit breathless. “Let’s go home. It’s been too long.”

  “I don’t know how much good I’ll be.” For Bo, Lucky would crawl through broken glass.

  “All you gotta do is be there.”

  Worked for Lucky.

  He didn’t even have to stop by the cube to get his laptop, but he waited while Bo got his. Leaving his computer here gave him reason to sneak back into the office if needed. Together Lucky and Bo trudged down the hall to the elevator.

  Lisa winked from behind the reception desk. “Good to have you back, guys.”

  Bo nodded. Lucky lacked energy for words.

  They stepped onto the elevator. The moment the doors slid shut, Bo attacked, much like Lucky’s ambushes during Bo’s rookie year.

  Mouth, neck, chin, forehead: Bo caressed them all in an open-mouthed kiss, one hand on Lucky’s back burning a hole through his shirt, the other cupping Lucky’s hardness through too-damned-in-the-way pants.

  Without looking, Bo slapped the panel behind him. The elevator stopped. No telling what kind of cameras the IT geeks installed.

  Let ‘em watch.

  Lucky wound up with his back against the wall. He let out a grunt.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Concern filled Bo’s eyes.

  “Nope. And tell me you’ll pick this up at home.” No condoms! Hallelujah! No condoms!

  The Dimple appeared. “Let’s try not to break any speed limits.”

  Despite Bo’s warning, they got home in record time. Speeding? Gunning the Camaro through yellow lights? Well… Maybe.

  But risking a ticket might be worth the lip lock Bo laid on him right inside the front door. He nearly jerked the blinds off the windows getting them closed, and slowed down when helping Lucky strip.

  As reverent as a worshipper, Bo removed Lucky’s shirt and urged him down on the couch. Lucky gripped the arm to keep the couch from flipping backwards as it’d done before.

  On his knees, Bo wriggled off first one of Lucky’s shoes, then the other, brought Lucky’s feet to his mouth, and placed a kiss on the instep of each. Slowly, so slowly, he removed both socks, his grin promising so many bad, wicked, totally amazing things.

  He reared back, rolling his shirt up over the lean muscles of his chest, yanked the cotton knit over his head, and tossed the SNB uniform shirt to the floor.

  Somehow he managed to unbutton and unzip his pants, and have them off in two seconds flat. No professional strip-tease, just the unveiling of all his glorious flesh. Boxers, socks, shoes… all discarded in a pile on the floor.

  Who was this man, and what had he done with Lucky’s neat-freak lover?

  Bo lowered his head and trailed gentle kisses around Lucky’s incision. “There. All better, right?”

  Nope, but wrap those lips around Lucky’s cock, and give him a distraction.

  Lucky ran his fingers up tight abs and around Bo’s side, drawing him close enough to bathe Bo’s warm skin with his tongue, and caress his erection.

  “Up!” Lucky motioned with his hand. Up! Up!

  Bo stood again, and Lucky swiped his tongue over the head of Bo’s cock, lingering over the tasty drops of pre-come. Hot damn. The scent, taste, feel, all brought Lucky too close to the edge for someone barely getting started.

  Bo straddled Lucky’s thighs and ground his wonderfully round ass onto Lucky’s so-hard-it-ached cock. He could lap dance on Lucky any damned time.

  Perfect.

  Bo turned and knelt. Mouth to mo
uth, cock to cock, sliding, gliding, thrusting… A helluva reunion.

  Somebody should be inside someone else, but damned if having Bo against him didn’t feel too good to move. Lucky wedged his hand between their bodies and captured both of their cocks. Bo joined the task, and they stroked together, skimming their tongues against each other’s in time with their humping.

  Smooth skin, coarse hair, bunching muscles, part and parcel of Bo. Harder, faster…

  “I’m gonna blow,” Lucky muttered against Bo’s lips.

  “Do it.”

  Lucky let go, falling over the edge of ecstasy and taking Bo with him.

  Oh my God! Lucky gritted his teeth and clutched his middle. OW!

  Bo kissed away the hurt.

  And then some.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The doorbell yanked Lucky out of his post-sex stupor. Moose barked from the backyard. The sun shone in through the sliding glass doors.

  Damn! They’d slept all night on the couch? “Fuck! We didn’t feed Moose and the cat!”

  Bo, lying half on the couch and half off, cracked open one eye. “I did. And… umm… cleaned us both up a bit.” He jumped up, tugged on yesterday’s pants, helped Lucky into his T-shirt and jeans, and kicked their boxers, shoes and socks under the couch.

  Really? Bo pulling a “Lucky’s method of cleaning?”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Coming!” Bo shouted.

  Lucky snorted. “Not at the moment, but you will. Later.” Oh, yes, Lucky was back. Maybe. Sorta.

  Bo scowled, stalked towards the entry, and flung the door open.

  Walter filled the doorframe. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I came to update you.”

  Bo stepped aside. Walter crossed the floor in a few long strides and sank into a chair across from the couch.

  Oh, dear God. Someone kill Lucky now. Couch sex followed by an appearance of the boss might haunt his dreams.

  Moose whined and scratched his paws again the glass doors. Walter smiled indulgently at the furry beast.

  The traitorous dog beelined straight for Walter, tongue lolling, the moment Bo opened the door.

  “I’ll go make coffee.” Bo disappeared into the kitchen.