Lucky turned Bo and locked their lips together for a slow shuffle across the floor, the closest thing to dancing they’d done in a while. Dancing. Give him a few weeks, and he’d take Bo out dancing. To dinner. Whatever the man wanted.
But for now, he guided them both across the floor to their bed.
Their bed. Their home. Their lives.
And nothing to fear after all. How had he lived before Bo?
Bo shoved Lucky backward on the bed. Forceful, huh? Oh, hell yeah! Lucky lay back, hypnotized by the play of light over Bo’s muscles while Bo settled himself on top, closed his eyes, and let out a breathy sigh when he slid down Lucky’s cock.
Bo splayed his hands on Lucky’s chest, rising and falling, his gaze fused to Lucky’s. He stopped and bent to join their mouths and tongues.
Palming whatever parts he got his hands on, Lucky urged the action on, thrusting upward to meet Bo’s coming down. Hot, sweaty, man on man. Grunts, groans, and bed squeaks all became the sweetest music.
Every stroke, every so-damned-good-it-nearly-hurt stroke, brought Lucky closer and closer. To climax, to Bo, to shattering into a million pieces.
Those pieces would come back together as a better man.
Bo bent for another kiss, stoking his cock, his movements jerky and erratic.
Lucky grabbed Bo’s ass and held on through the tremors, releasing his hold on his own control. Together they rocked through the earthquake, clinging to each other.
Bo collapsed beside him, pure joy bursting out of him on a laugh.
Running a lazy hand down Bo’s side, Lucky put all other thoughts out of his mind. He’d live in the moment.
In the distance, his phone rang. Too comfortable to move, he remained still, catching his breath, Bo’s come cooling on his belly.
When their breathing slowed, they shifted enough for him to place his head on Bo’s chest, taking comfort in Bo’s throbbing heartbeat. Why had he ever been afraid of commitment? Of loving the best thing to ever happen to him? Like hell would he ever let go.
Forever. He wanted forever. The rings lay in his pocket on the floor. Getting up to find them took energy. He’d get them later.
“Bo, would you—”
Bo’s soft snores ended the moment.
Later. He’d ask again later.
He lay for a moment, trailing his fingers over Bo’s chest. Where was the splashing noise coming from?
Oh, dear God!
Lucky shot out of the bed, tripped over Cat Lucky, and crawled into the bathroom on his knees in time to witness a white, furry butt disappear over the rim of the tub. Water sloshed onto the floor.
“Moose!” Lucky lunged for the running faucet. Ow! Had to remember not to stretch too far.
Moose, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, lunged too, splashing more water and chasing Lucky’s hand.
Ewww… Wet dog. Huge mess.
Not the way the night should’ve ended.
But it ended with Bo in Lucky’s bed, their shared roof over their heads, Lucky’s family calling every five minutes simply to say hello, and all right in the world.
Not a bad deal.
He checked his phone:
Richie, me and the boys are coming down, since it’s a long weekend and Daddy’s doing fine. You’ll be home, right?
