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 mouth, 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!
