Every time Lucky tried to repay the favor, Bo retreated and restarted his mission to drive Lucky insane.
Okay, time to join the game. Lucky made a mad dive for Bo’s neck, sucking the tender skin where shoulder met neck.
“Oh yeah,” Bo choked out, arching into the attention. He gasped and yanked back. “Tonight’s about you.”
No, the years before they met had been all about Lucky. “Selfish” didn’t come close to how he’d treated the men bold enough to follow him home.
If he couldn’t get Bo off, he wasn’t coming either. The concentration on Bo’s face, eyelashes sweeping his cheeks as he threw back his head, shuddering. What a gorgeous sight. And he’d open his eyes, stare straight into Lucky’s and let go. More often than not, Lucky sailed over the edge close behind, the image of Bo burned into his brain.
The memory added to the sweet torture of Bo’s stroking, joined by other memories—Bo sinking down, taking Lucky into his body, free of barriers, free of work stress—just two men, loving each other.
The moment raged closer, Lucky’s muscles tightening as he arched off the bed. “Oh damn!” He tugged harder and faster on Bo. Closer, closer. The wonderful tension built within, fogging his brain. On a long groan, he let loose, his body jerking in time with his spurts.
Through the lust-filled haze, he fought to keep his hand moving—a nearly impossible task now. His own spasms lessened and Bo tensed, wrapping his hand around Lucky’s to help keep the faltering rhythm.
Bo bucked, pushing his cock through Lucky’s fist, his foreskin bunching and relaxing. Finally, he braced his hands on the headboard above Lucky’s head and fucked Lucky’s fist.
The bed creaked and groaned. Lucky took Bo’s balls in his free hand. Oh, to pull him higher so Lucky could use his mouth.
Nah, took too much effort and functioning cells from a sex-fried brain.
Bo cried out, his thrusts growing erratic. This time Lucky maintained the beat, keeping the friction going so Bo’s approaching climax didn’t fizzle out.
“Ah…” Bo closed his eyes.
Wait for it… He reopened his eyes, the fiery heat of his gaze coming close to sending Lucky off and running again. His cock throbbed in Lucky’s hand, sending thick droplets raining down.
Bo shuddered and collapsed onto the bed, his and Lucky’s come pooling on Lucky’s stomach.
They returned to the Jacuzzi. Lucky put a foot in barely warm water. “Wait!” Bo hadn’t drained the tub. “You’d planned for us to need the water again.”
Bo’s lopsided smile ought to be illegal. “You said you wanted distracting. You’re hard to distract if you’ve got your mind on something.” And yet he’d succeeded.
Lucky folded his arms over his chest and mock-glared. “You fight dirty.”
“Clean is for wusses.” Bo grinned, showing a flash of The Dimple. An appearance of The Dimple could win any argument. So could an eyeful of his perfect bubble butt.
Or just him being Bo.
A man who’d strip, a job he’d hated, to help pay for the operation to save Lucky’s dad.
When Bo strutted and showed off his assets to strangers, was he dancing on stage or was it the Rex guy he’d played at the club? Would Rex ever take Bo over like Cyrus had on their last big case? The darkness could have Bo over Lucky’s dead body. But who’d save Bo from himself with Lucky gone?
“Um… Lucky? You still with me here?” Bo waved his hands in front of Lucky’s eyes.
Lucky startled out of the horror story his mind insisted on writing. “Lost in thought, I guess.”
One side of Bo’s mouth lifted. “That’s because—”
“Don’t you dare say ‘because it’s unfamiliar territory’.”
Bo lifted his hands. “Wasn’t gonna.”
“Then what were you going to say?”
“That it’s because I screwed your brains out.”
Well, they hadn’t exactly screwed, but one lesson Lucky learned from his partner was to pick his battles. If he didn’t, he’d be fighting every minute of every day. Of course, baiting coworkers didn’t count as fighting, did it?
