Diversion 1 - Diversion (12 page)

“What you got in mind?” Bos eyes darkened with lust, appearing wild and disoriented.
“Follow me.” Lucky shot out of the car and jogged halfway across the parking tier before he heard a door slam behind him. He charged into the mens room and waited, counting out footfalls that approached the door.
The door flew open and Lucky made a grab, ramming Bos back again the wall and setting off an automated hand dryer. Lucky ignored the hot air wafting over his arm in favor of slamming his mouth hard against Bos and shoving his leg between the mans thighs. They devoured each others mouths, no hesitant tender kiss, but a release of tightly coiled passion. Tongues intertwined, each mans fingers sifted through the others hair, tugging closer.
Below their belts their bodies followed suit, Lucky rutting against Bos firm thigh in an old-as-time mating rhythm
. Im going to blow in my jeans and I dont give a fuck.
Luckys overwhelmed brain yielded up a single clear warning:
someone might walk in.
He pushed and pulled, dancing them toward a stall without breaking contact. A condom machine hung on the wall at an awkward angle, a handwritten sign proclaiming it “Out of Order.”
Damn it!
At this rate, he wouldnt last long enough to wrap his meat anyway. He somehow managed to wrestle them both into a stall, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Abandoning Bos mouth for his neck, Lucky rose up on tiptoes, nibbling and sucking, hands fumbling with a button fly with way too many damned buttons. Bo made short work of Luckys zipper, sliding a hand in the opening to pull out Luckys iron-hard cock. Lucky moaned, finally succeeding in freeing Bos shaft. Avoiding the toilet to crowd Bo to the back of the stall, Lucky forced him up against the wall. “Is this okay?”
Bo swallowed hard and opened his mouth twice, but no words escaped. He nodded instead.
Lucky needed no other confirmation, and he rammed against Bo, answered thrust for thrust. Body crying out for release, he wrapped his hand around their cocks, plunging in time with Bos heavy pants.
Bos moans turned to whimpers and the whimpers to wails. Remembering what hed been told in the car, Lucky reached between them to cup a tight ball sack. Bo grabbed Lucky by the back of the head, slamming their mouths together.
One thrust more, twice more, every muscle in his body seized, and Lucky toppled over the edge, a sharp
ooof!
muffled by Bos tongue. His insides fluttered and his cock spurted, slicking his hand and his belly.
Knees buckling, he managed to hold on long enough for Bo to cry out, catching the whimpers with his mouth. From storm to aftermath they traveled, sweat and come slicked, clinging to each other to keep from falling down.
Heart hammering, lungs burning, Lucky forced his trembling knees to steady. When their marathon-runner gasps faded enough todraw a good breath, Bo murmured, “Lucky?”
Afraid to answer and break the spell, Lucky squeaked out, “Yep?”
Hesitation, followed by a wavering, “Well be doing this again sometime, wont we?”
Though Lucky hadnt yet thought of anything beyond the current moment in time, “again” sounded damned good to him. “Oh God, I hope so.”

Lucky felt quite certain he left paint on a column in his haste to leave the parking garage. He kept the car idling at the drug store while Bo dashed inside, and somehow made it home without ramming the Mazda into a tree. Hed barely shifted into park when he and Bo jumped out and took off hell-bent for leather up the front steps, violently slamming the door behind them. Dishes rattled in the kitchen cabinets.

A T-shirt landed close to the couch, and discarded socks and shoes marked their progress down the hall, Bo hopping on one foot while unlacing a stubborn sneaker. Lucky struggled out of his jeans, bunny hopping with trapped ankles the last few feet to his bedroom. He stopped to step out of the offending denim and Bo careened against his back, knocking him forward onto the bed. “Where I wanted to be anyway,” he quipped.
The drugstore bag landed on the bedspread, Bo falling on top

of him. A little mutual cooperation dealt with any remaining clothes, and though theoretically theyd taken the edge off at the garage, their libidos raged like teenagers. Unable to make up his mind between kissing or sucking, Lucky lost the chance to choose. Bo used his strength to full advantage, flipping Lucky sideways into a sixty-nine position.

Lucky hummed around his mouthful, running his tongue under the uncircumcised skin of Bos cock, bucking into the moist heat surrounding his own flesh. He loved the solid bulk of the man in his bed, the flaring passion, the give and take of two men in lust. Slipping a finger into his mouth alongside Bos cock, he moistened it well, trailing it back behind the stubbly balls hed verbally fantasized about earlier, to the puckered surrounding of Bos entrance. He pressed against the skin, teasing but not yet seeking to penetrate, eliciting a groan from them both.

Blindly he patted the bedspread, locating the bag and upending the contents. More groping found a tube, and he removed his mouth from Bos cock to wrench the cap off with his teeth. He squirted too much onto his fingers, the slick goo dripping onto Bos thigh—he left it there for later use.

Remembering Bos earlier instructions, he applied a tender hand to the mans balls, returning the other to the wrinkled pucker he hoped to soon have wrapped around his flesh. Groans, moans, and squeaking bedsprings created an erotic melody, the occasional slurp thrown in for good measure. Bos energetic sucking wasnt going to help Lucky last, and he reluctantly pulled away from the delicious heat and pressure for the sake of prolonging the experience.

He breached Bos opening, watching his fingertips disappear inside. Bo rolled onto his back, knees bent, to let his legs fall open. “Its been awhile, go easy on me,” he cautioned.

Lucky bit down on his lower lip, fighting for control.
Dont say shit like that when Im about to blow!
Recognizing the potential for a history of abuse with Bos confessed, “I dont like to be tied up,” he slowed down, determined as hell not to do something stupid and thoughtless. The man had trust issues, and Lucky respected that. Lucky didnt actually have trust issues himself, he simply didnt trust anyone, therefore, no issue.

He took his time loosening Bo, wanting nothing more than to sink in ballsdeep. A shove of his shoulder and a croaked, “Okay” had him fumbling for the supplies again, throwing aside the first thing he picked up when it turned out to be a pack of gum instead of a condom. One hand uselessly slicked with lube, it took both him and Bo to open the packet and roll the latex down his shaft, and once more things nearly ended before they began. He grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed, thinking of horrid glass and chrome buildings, rush hour traffic on I-95, and Walters flat ass to stave off impending orgasm.

Once hed regained restraint, he climbed between Bos open thighs, closing his eyes in sheer bliss when tender flesh yielded and he slid inside. “Oh. My. God.” He held the position, memorizing the sensation of Bos internal walls clinging to his erection. He eased forward and back experimentally, not pushing too hard, opening his eyes to watch Bos face for signs of distress.

Bos breath came in staggered little gasps, his eyes glazed and unfocused. He rocked up,meeting Luckys downward swoop, their tongues mimicking their intimate joining down below.

“Damn, but you feel good.” Lucky fed the words into Bos mouth, lost in the Nirvana of a willing body. Bos legs came up to wrap his thighs in a vice-like grip, urging him closer and changing the angle of penetration. Taking advantage of the leverage, Bo pulled Lucky fully inside.

“Dont. Move. A. Muscle.” The heat, the grip, became too much. “Im not gonna last,” Lucky growled through clenched teeth.

“Dont.” Bo grab bed his own cock, desperately stroking, while milking Lucky with his inner walls.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Lucky chanted, the pressure building in this groin. He passed the point of no return and plunged headfirst into ecstasy. Need overcoming his desire not to hurt his partner, he slammed into Bos body, crying out as he emptied himself into the condom.
And still he pumped, desperate not to leave Bo wanting. On the edge of collapsing, he felt Bos muscles tighten, and with his little remaining strength, delivered a bruising kiss, stomach sliding against Bos on a slick of come. He flopped down onto the bed, too tired to think of a snappy one-liner, let alone deliver one.
“Lucky?”
“Yeah?”
“This is temporary, right? Two guys keeping each other company?”
“Unhuh.” Bos fingers languidly caressed his side.
“Okay.” Bo didnt sound too certain, but Lucky lacked enough participating brain cells to puzzle him out.
He had no trouble falling asleep, and though he woke up three times, finding Bo sleeping peacefully beside him had him immediately dozing off again.

Repeating his normal A.M. ritual, Lucky dragged himself bleary-eyed and stark naked into the kitchen, to find a far too perky Bo already dressed in neatly pressed khaki slacks and a white button-down shirt. He wore them well, too.

Lets see, I fucked him, slept with him, hes still here— and smiling at me like I might not have to wait until hell freezes over to do it again. And if the slap and tickle in the mens room counts, Ive had him twice. Shit, hes stormed right past “casual fuck,” and landed firmly on “in a court of law hed now be declared my lover.” How the hell did that happen?

Not that Lucky minded a few weeks of steady sex while serving his remaining time; he simply wasnt equipped to deal with drastic changes to his life without a minimum of two cups of coffee in his system.
Damn, but I hate mornings!
And he sure as shit wasnt going to cut Newbie any slack due to them sharing a bed, either.

He snarled, “And wha t the hell are you doing, decked out like youre going somewhere? And why the hell didnt you wake me up?” Oversleeping demanded taking his ire out on somebody, even if deep down inside he appreciated any extra sack time. Would he have to apologize for his bad mood later?
Lovers
tended to get touchy about that kind of thing.

But it also wasnt wise for the man to forget what kind of sorry asshole he worked with. Heaven forbid Mr. Permanent Press became
attached.
Not that Luckyd inspired strong emotion in many men over the years beyond the desire to take him out into the woods somewhere and leave him. Or drop him off a cliff. All except for Victor.

“If only other men knew what a treasure you are…”
he heard in Victors voice. Lucky willed the ghost of his former lover to go away.
Too damned early to deal with regret.

Bo remained annoyingly unfazed, a deep dimple etched in one cheek as he handed Lucky a steaming mug. “You were dead to the world; I thought it wouldnt hurt to let you snooze a while longer. SinceI have to be at the clinic, weve been relieved of stake-out duty.” He cupped Luckys cheek in his palm. “Why dont you take it easy today?”

Completing Luckys sudden visit to domesticity, Bo leaned in and brushed their lips together. “Good morning,” he said. “I should be back by noon. I found the message on my phone when I woke up.” A blush stained his cheeks. “Apparently, I was busy and didnt hear it ring last night. The test came out fine and Im going in for my second interview. If everything goes well, Ill take you out to lunch to celebrate my new job.”

He whistled, sauntering across the floor with an extra spring in his step. Turning back at the door, he imparted a final smile before heading outside. “Wish me luck.”

Lucky leaned against the kitchen counter, untasted coffee in hand. “Why do I suddenly feel like a housewife?” he asked the ugly green curtains.

Lucky picked at his country fried steak, barely tasting what he normally considered a favorite meal. He listened—for perhaps the fifth time—to Bos account of the inner workings of the pain clinic. Jeez, the guy acted like hed been hired for some kind of dream job and hadnt stepped into a nest of vipers, coiled to strike without warning. He had no idea how dangerous his excitement could be, if he lost sight of why hed be working at Ryersons.

“I hate to bust your bubble…” Lucky began.
“Are you shitting me? You live for busting peoples bubbles.” Oh my God! That dimple, right in the middle of Bos cheek.

That amazingly cute and shouldnt be dimple. Lucky decided that he hated that fucking dimple, yet when it disappeared, found he wanted to see it again. “Yeah, okay. I reckon I do. But youve got to keep focused. Doling out shit to addicts willing to shell out the cash is notyour job.”

“I beg to differ; as of tomorrow morning at nine A.M., it will be.”
Another flash of dimple punctuated the words. Smart ass.
Oh yeah? Remind you of somebody?
Lucky huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Getting in too deep is a job hazard and something you constantly need to watch out for. Making friends, getting comfortable, makes it harder on everybody in the long run. Dont forget your purpose!”
The Dimple disappeared, leaving Lucky feeling like hed kicked a puppy. He tried again, grasping for some ever-elusive tact. “All Im saying is remember why youre there. If you muddy the waters, youll discredit yourself as a witness. We need you on the inside, but you dont work for them.”
“I met Dr. Ryerson.” Bo stared into his glass of lemon water. “Actually, shes the one who suggested this restaurant when I told her I planned to meet a friend for lunch.”
Lucky dragged his fork through a pool of gravy, swirling the gooey mess into circular patterns. “And?”
“And I have a hard time believing shes guilty of what were accusing her of. I mean, she reminds me of a younger version of the woman from those cooking shows on channel fourteen.”
Oh shit. If it were up to Lucky, hed label the man a liability and pull him out right now. If Bod already lost his objectivity, hed either blow the whole deal or get burnt the first day on the job.
“Listen to me. Im only telling you this because you need to hear it. I knew someone like Ryerson, trusted him implicitly…for a time.” Lucky closed his eyes against the pain associated with Victors memory. “He ran the biggest drug diversion operation in the country. If a shipment disappeared without a trace, chances are itd turn up in one of his warehouses. Hell, if a shipment did turn up at his warehouses, more often than not
I
put it there. He never hid his shady business dealings, and I accepted them. However, at his trial I found out more: extortion, money laundering…murder by way of providing the means for ODs. Kid, the man supplied Control I substances…”
“Control I? Those arent even legal in this country!”
“Spoken like a pharmacist fresh out of school. Anyway, whatever you wanted, he could get, and in quantity.” The words “ignorance of the law is no excuse” rang in Luckys memory. “At least three people died from using drugs he supplied. In the end, a jury convicted him of two of those. That suit-and-tie, best-table-atall-the-fancyrestaurants businessman received a life sentence.”
And chose not to serve it
remained unsaid.
Victor entered the courtroom behind his cadre of lawyers, a oncetailored suit hanging from his gaunt frame. Hed lost weight and, without regular visits to his stylist, the delicate white frosting normally reserved for his temples sprinkled throughout his hair, unchecked. During Lucky and Victors association, Lucky hadnt dwelled much on their age difference. In that moment Victor appeared ancient—and defeated. He sat with quiet dignity, bestowing a sad smile when Lucky took to the stand, swearing to tell the whole truth and fulfilling that promise, in essence shoving Victors head in the noose.
Hurt and angry, the sharp sting of betrayal lending him courage, Lucky answered every question truthfully, pleading the Fifth Amendment four times. In the end, hed been escorted from the courtroom, his duty done. As he passed the table where Victor sat, their eyes met. Victor smiled. Not the grisly smile seen in movies of a mafia don declaring, “Ill get you back!” but the same smile that had greeted Lucky in the mornings upon waking in Victors bed. The smile that turned his insides to mush and kept him going out every day to break the law, in part simply because Victor asked him to.