Suspicion (Diversion Book 7) Read online

  A smile stretched across Lucky’s lips.

  The technical things beyond diaper changing he’d have to learn from Charlotte. She’d be here to help.

  Lucky’s heart clenched.

  The perfect life. One he’d never dreamed he’d have.

  With his sister’s help.

  With Bo’s love.

  Whatever he’d done right to end up with Bo he’d never know, but he’d stop questioning and count his blessings instead.

  And try to do right by his man.

  Now to summon up the nerve to once again ask his partner to make things legal, make them a family in the eyes of the world.

  Not that he rightly gave a damn what the world thought.

  Usually.

  Lucky stepped back from the nursery, closed the door, and rested his head against the smooth wooden panel.

  All he’d ever wanted—and some things he’d not been smart enough to know he needed—close enough to reach out and touch.

  “Good morning!”

  Lucky whirled, heart on a collision course with his ribs. Damn. He’d almost been busted daydreaming. “Good morning.” He rammed his hands into this shorts pockets, clutching the rings in his fist. Wait for it. Wait for the right moment…

  Bo sat up in their bed, covers pooled around his waist and sparse curls on his chest. One fine sight. He nodded toward the tray on the nightstand. “Is that for me?”

  “What?” Oh. Not the rings. Breakfast. “Yeah. Thought you might wake up hungry.” Fixing Bo breakfast. One small step in Lucky’s plans to be the man Bo deserved, and an apology for last night.

  Bo knuckled one eye. “Where’re Todd and Ty?”

  “Still asleep. I talked to Charlotte this morning. She asked if we’re okay with them staying with us until she found her own place, since she’s not sure when her house might sell.”

  “You told her they’re welcome, right?”

  “Of course, as long as you’re cool with it.” One Lucklighter strained the nerves of most folks. Four under one roof? Good thing the naked man in Lucky’s bed had a high tolerance for bad manners.

  “Cool with it? I’m thrilled. I know how much them being here means to you.” The smile left Bo’s face. “Are you okay with that? I mean, with what’s going on with the rest of your family and all.”

  Mama took Bristol’s death hard, though she didn’t blame Lucky for any role he’d played.

  Things weren’t back to normal yet with his folks, might never be. However, he’d never been a big believer in normal being a good thing, so they’d rewrite their relationship slowly, one chapter at a time. But Charlotte? His defender, his friend, his support, and his ass-kicker when he needed one. “Yeah. It’ll be great, though I doubt we’ll see much of her. She plans to eventually find a house near Clemson to be close to Todd, and go back to nursing school.”

  “Nice!” Bo pulled the tray Lucky recently filled onto his lap and took a bite of toast. He washed the mouthful down with a swig of green tea.

  Charlotte could teach Bo a thing or two about keeping Lucky in line. On the other hand, Bo and Ty could roam Atlanta looking for poofballs or whatever on their phones. Goodness knew the kid needed positive male role models.

  Like Lucky should’ve—no, could still be.

  Uncle Lucky. Uncle Bo.

  But no more paintball. Ever. Lucky rubbed the aching spot on his chest.

  Blurting out all he had on his mind might scare Bo off. If Lucky had learned anything from his time with the man, he’d learned to choose his words carefully, and choose the right timing.

  Living in sin, as his grandma used to say.

  No, sin would’ve been the parts of his life without Bo.

  The click of a fork on a plate brought Lucky’s attention back to matters at hand. Clearing his throat didn’t bring the words he needed. He jangled the rings in his pocket and sat down on the side of the bed.

  Bo placed the breakfast tray on the nightstand, grabbed Lucky by the shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. Oh, damn. What a fine good morning. Wait! Hadn’t he been about to say something?

  “How long do you reckon we got before the boys wake up?” Bo retreated enough to mumble against Lucky’s mouth.

  Now, now, now, now, now! “Bo, I…”

  “Uncle Lucky!” Todd shouted from way too close to the bedroom door. “I’m gonna fix some breakfast, okay?”

  Damn it!

  Chapter Three

  Lucky sat at the kitchen table, watching Todd pop frozen waffles into the toaster.

  Todd. Eighteen. Heading to college.

  Eighteen-year-old Lucky stole cars and resold them.

  Todd said please and thank you.

  Lucky stole the wrong car and wound up working for a suave drug trafficker.

  Todd saved his money for a car.

  Lucky became the trafficker’s lover and drove a brand-new Mustang.

  At twenty-five Todd would possess a college degree, would’ve likely found a decent job, and have a life of his own. Then his biggest worry would be paying off student loans for what little of his tuition wasn’t funded by the college account Victor set up years ago.

  At twenty-five, Lucky testified against his lover, sealing the deal on the man’s life sentence.

  And thought he’d been the reason Victor hanged himself.

  Lucky’s downward spiral started when he’d been Todd’s age. Yet every time he looked at his nephews, all he saw were kids.

  He’d die before he’d let them turn out like him, even if he had redeemed himself, worked off eight years of his ten-year sentence as a consultant to the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau, putting guys like him in jail.

  All because Victor made a few deals and faked his death.

  The two boys pouring way too much syrup onto their plates would never look over their shoulders, waiting for the past to catch up. Would never know men like Victor Mangiardi, never worry each time someone they’d arrested got out of prison.

  Would never live with regrets.

  Like their Uncle Lucky.

  Bo often said his Catholic mother had nothing on Southern Baptists when it came to guilt.

  ***

  Rett showed up soon after the boys were fed.

  “How’d you get through the security gate?” Lucky shouted over the dance club-level throbbing from the guestroom.

  She grinned, eyes hidden behind ginormous mirrored shades. Her hair poufed out around her head, making her appear even taller than her six-plus feet. The sleeveless top and shorts she wore showed off her muscles and Celtic armband tattoo, a darker pattern against her dark skin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Yeah, I would, ‘cause if you can do it, some assh—.” Not that Lucky ever considered the gated community very safe.

  Rett’s son peeked out from behind her.

  Mouth still open, Lucky change “hole” to “Hi, Rone.”

  She mouthed, “You gave me the code, remember?”

  Oh yeah. He had.

  Bo and Rett gave each other a slight nod.

  They’d planned this.

  She barged in without waiting to be invited, her son silently trailing in her wake. “I came to get the boys. See if they wanted to go to the movies.” Rett raised her shades to the top of her head and gave Lucky a wink. “Thought you and Bo might need some alone time.”

  Lucky shifted his gaze in his partner’s direction.

  Bo’s attempt at innocent-face missed the target completely.

  Oh, that was the way of things, huh? Rett and Bo conspiring?

  Wait. Conspiring to give Bo and Lucky time in the empty house. Right. He owed them.

  Rett traipsed to the nearly-vibrating door and knocked. He couldn’t hear what she said when the door opened, but her kid’s voice couldn’t be missed as he dragged Todd out of the room by the hand. “C’mon! We’re gonna do something we all can do!”

  The most animated Lucky’d ever seen the little guy.

  Todd gave a half smile and knelt to
ruffle Rone’s hair. “All right. If you insist.”

  Ty turned off the music and trotted out of the room, surprisingly cooperative, though he waved to Bo and not Lucky.

  “We’ll be back in…” Rett glanced at her cell phone and gave him another wink. “Four hours. Give or take.”

  Lucky’s heart hammered. “Umm… thanks?”

  “Don’t mention it.” She herded the boys out the door, her son two steps behind Todd.

  Well, that was subtle.

  Not.

  Oof!

  Bo slammed Lucky against the wall before Rett’s Jeep left the driveway. “I’ve missed you so damned bad.” Grasping Lucky’s T-shirt, he pulled, ripping the thin material. He latched his mouth onto Lucky’s neck, tracing Lucky’s abs with one hand.

  “How much did this alone time cost you?” Lucky mumbled against the side of Bo’s head.

  “Twenty bucks each for Ty and Todd. And she’ll fight me, but I’ll pay Loretta back for anything she spends on them.”

  Lucky pulled back and glowered. “What the—”

  Bo clapped a hand over Lucky’s mouth. “A bargain,” he hissed, resuming his attack.

  Lucky would have paid one hell of a lot more. He collapsed against the wall, not thinking, just feeling.

  God, but Bo felt good.

  Only then did Lucky notice the drawn blinds, the absence of cat and dog.

  Alone. He had Bo alone. For the first time in too damned long.

  Thanks to Bo’s planning.

  Chest to chest, mouth to mouth, groin to groin, arms lowered by their sides, palms together and fingers laced.

  Bo traced his tongue over Lucky’s mouth, sucked in the bottom lip, and tugged gently with his teeth. Lightning struck. Lucky’s suddenly wobbly knees threatened to drop him to the floor. How, after all these years, could Bo still give him fluttery feelings deep inside? He’d never believed in love, not for himself.

  Maybe for others. Or maybe not.

  They’d been through hell and back, and yet here they were. They’d beaten the odds, redeemed their pasts, built a home and careers. Created a life together from the ashes of their former selves.

  He loved Bo more than life itself.

  He opened his mouth, upping the ante, and twined his tongue with Bo’s.

  Oh, God. The heat. Nothing else existed. Just him and the best thing to ever happen to him. Lucky pulled back, drinking in the sight of his lover.

  Bo’s mouth curled into a smile, revealing The Dimple. That glorious, glorious dimple in his cheek, which only appeared when the man was truly happy.

  He was happy. Content. At peace.

  So was Lucky. No matter what bullshit came his way outside these walls, nothing negative touched him in the safety of Bo’s arms.

  He lost himself in the slide of his tongue against Bo’s, the pressure of Bo’s hands running up and down his bare skin.

  The subtle shift of their weight rubbed their erections together through two layers of cloth. Lordy, if he got any stiffer he’d tear right out of his shorts.

  He ran his hands up Bo’s back and gripped his shoulders.

  Bo retreated, his smirk kicking up into a full-blown grin. He placed a splayed hand mid-center of Lucky’s chest and pushed.

  Lucky wobbled and fell onto the couch. The couch flipped back. Bo pounced. They tumbled onto the floor. Who the hell cared, with Bo rubbing himself against Lucky, bringing his mouth down to connect again.

  “God, I want you,” Bo murmured against Lucky’s lips.

  Before Lucky could answer, Bo deepened the kiss, joined their fingers, and raised Lucky’s hands above his head.

  Click. Click. Bo sat back on his heels.

  “Wha…” Lucky yanked his arms. Cuffed to the coffee table. Restraints. Being at Bo’s mercy never failed to get Lucky worked up, but never at his lover’s expense. “Bo, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to. Being tied down is my hang-up, not yours. It’s something you want. I’ll always give you what you want.” He got on all-fours and bit lightly where Lucky’s neck met his shoulder.

  Chills raced along Lucky’s arms and spine, and tingling shocks hit his groin.

  Down Bo worked, swiping his tongue over Lucky’s Adam’s apple, across his neck, and back up to nibble an earlobe. He swept his hand through the hair on Lucky’s chest, tweaking one nipple, then the other. Taking his own sweet time, he smoothed his hand through the patch of hair leading down to the parts of Lucky in serious need of more attention.

  At one time they’d fucked hard and fast, as if the other might disappear at any moment. That still happened, but he’d grown a whole new appreciation for taking his time—when he wasn’t on the receiving end.

  Hard and fast with Bo in the driver’s seat. Slow enough to drink in every gasp and moan when he dished out the pleasure.

  Lucky growled his frustration.

  Bo chuckled and sifted his fingers through Lucky’s treasure trail, carefully avoiding Lucky’s cock. Lucky surged upward again, chasing Bo’s hand.

  Bo lifted his head from Lucky’s shoulder. “You never were a patient man.”

  “I see no reason to start now.”

  All humor fled Bo’s face and lust heated his gaze. “I like having you like this, you know. The great big, terrifying T-Rex, tied up and at my mercy. I can do anything I want and you can’t stop me.”

  Technically not true, but lying on the floor with a hot man over him wasn’t the time for Lucky to argue. “What do you want to do to me?”

  Bo trailed his fingers up and down Lucky’s torso, then mapped out the muscles in Lucky’s arms with a fingertip. “You’re so hot like this. You love seeing me in my chaps, but seeing you all stretched out, letting me have control, drives me fucking insane.”

  His eyes gleamed.

  Lucky was so fucked. Or soon would be.

  Bo yanked off Lucky’s tennis shoes, one side of his mouth lifted. Next, he undid the button and zipper of Lucky’s jean shorts, spread open the fly, and lowered his face to Lucky’s groin.

  Oh… Oh! Lucky bucked up when Bo licked the very tip of his cock.

  Lucky let out a frustrated groan. Bo’s mouth, his amazing mouth, should be sucking Lucky off by now, not teasing.

  Bucking his hips to speed the action only caused Bo to grip them firmly and hold Lucky down.

  Lucky bucked again, because having Bo fight him, hold him down, take away his free will, shot electricity straight through him.

  Bo would never hurt him, would release him at the first sign of distress, loved Lucky as much as Lucky loved him.

  Bo eased back, taking all clothing south of Lucky’s waist with him. Lucky’s cock sprang free, so hard it hurt. A bead of fluid clung to the head.

  With a wicked grin and an exaggerated tongue swipe, Bo licked the drop away.

  Heated gaze locked to Lucky’s, Bo pulled his T-shirt up, breaking eye contact only long enough to yank the thin cotton over his head.

  Mr. Everything-needs-to-be-in-its-place tossed the fabric away to join Lucky’s clothes on the floor.

  Bo rose gracefully to his feet, muscles bulging in his lightly furred legs. In the years they’d been together, Bo still managed to keep his lithe runner’s build. He pulled down his shorts and tossed them to the side.

  His uncut cock rose against his belly from a neatly trimmed thatch, and he gave the dark head a few strokes with one hand while reaching behind his balls with the other, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

  As beautiful as he’d been before, he’d now become gorgeous as all fuck.

  Lucky let out an involuntary whimper and shifted, being careful not to yank too hard on the handcuffs and topple the coffee table to the floor, ruining the illusion of bondage.

  Anticipation thrummed through him and he clenched, already imagining the burn as Bo sank into him. They never really planned who topped or who bottomed—or maybe they did, with some kind of unspoken signals.

  He spread his legs, knees bent and feet
flat against the floor. Bo’s eyes widened for a moment, and he dropped to his knees.

  Without so much as a word of warning, he sank to his stomach on the floor, hooked his hands under Lucky’s thighs, and lifted.

  Feet now off the floor, most of Lucky’s weight rested on his shoulders. Before he could protest, Bo dove, swiping his tongue up…Oh!

  Lucky fought to keep his eyes open, but he had to watch as Bo ran his tongue around Lucky’s hole.

  Bo’s eyes slid shut. He continued his assault, sending shivers up Lucky’s spine.

  Tongue swipe after tongue swipe.

  Fan-damn-tastic. Too much and not enough at the same time.

  Lucky gripped the handcuff chains, legs trembling.

  He’d never come like this before, but if Bo kept going…

  Just when he couldn’t take another moment of foreplay, Bo added a slick finger.

  “Hot damn! Motherfuck…” Lucky murmured. The sensation of tongue and fingers nearly sent him over the edge. He rocked back as best he could, nearly folded up like a pretzel. His abs quivered.

  Bo eased Lucky’s legs to the floor and settled between, lining up his cock to Lucky’s hole in one smooth motion. He pushed, barely breaching Lucky’s ring of muscles, and pulled back.

  Lucky growled low in his throat. “Stop teasing and fuck me already.”

  Bo chuckled. “You’re a pushy bottom, you know that?”

  “I’m a pushy everything.” Lucky lunged down to more fully impale himself, hissing through his teeth. Somewhere Bo had gotten some lube, but he hadn’t stretched Lucky to the point of no pain.

  Just the way Lucky liked.

  Eyes intent on Lucky’s face, Bo pushed in and pulled out, going deeper each time. At last his balls rested against Lucky’s ass. Bo let out a low moan, eyes closed, face rapturous. “I’ve missed this. More than you know.”

  So had Lucky. Arms supposedly out of the game, he wrapped his legs around Bo’s thighs and rocked until he and Bo established a rhythm. Caught between Bo and Lucky’s bodies, Lucky’s cock slid against skin on a slick of pre-cum.

  His arm muscles began to burn, his back growing uncomfortable at the odd angle. The distraction allowed him to last longer, because he had four hours of Bo’s undivided attention and he damned well intended to use them.