Diversion 2 - Collusion (21 page)

The drive to Bo’s took forever, plots and schemes running through Lucky’s head. How long this time before he saw the man again? Days? Weeks? Months? One wrong step, and it could be years.

Once more he followed someone else into the building to avoid alerting Bo, though by his watch he’d arrived three minutes late. Damn. And Bo wasn’t the kind to give him any slack either. Maybe he’d whine a bit about how bad his leg hurt.

“You’re late,” Bo said, opening the apartment door. “Yup,” Lucky agreed, unhooking the bag holding the wine from his crutch and setting it down on the table Bo kept by the door to put keys on. No tantalizing smells drifted from the kitchen.
“I should get you your own key.”
Lucky’s heart flip-flopped, but he’d worry about Bo’s hints about permanence later—no telling what the next few days might bring. He fully intended to sit down over supper, discuss his plans, and hopefully win an ally. A lot hinged on Bo’s willingness to get involved. However, the man standing close enough to reach out and touch, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, hair wet from a shower, changed Lucky’s plans.
Where did things stand between them? Lucky couldn’t leave without knowing. “We’ve got some unfinished business.” Right now lust won out over good intentions. He latched on to Bo’s arm.
Bo’s eyes widened. “What unfinished business?” he squeaked.
“This.” While Lucky planned to drag Bo across the living room and fling him onto the couch cushions, he didn’t quite make it before a crutch tripped him and they both fell with a few feet to spare.
“Don’t try that again until you’ve healed,” Bo groused, untangling Lucky from the crutches and the coffee table.
There went Lucky’s he-man dominance display. With Bo’s help he dragged himself onto the couch. “Damn broke-ass ankle.”
“Did you ever tell anyone how you broke it?”
“Just Walter.”
“Good.”
Dear Lord! Had Bo always had such an evil smile? Nice! “Why?”
“I’ve got a betting pool going. Those saps at work bet on anything.”
“And?”
“And I stand to win two hundred bucks if you hurt yourself doing something dumb, like jumping out of a window or something.”
“How’d you—”
“Oh my God! You did, didn’t you?”
Heat rose in Lucky’s face. “Yeah, I did. But you shoulda talked to me before you placed the bet. You might have gotten more for the bat shit angle.”
“Bat shit as in crazy?”
Lucky lost the fight to hide a grimace. “’Fraid not.”
“Eww…”
“Yup. Now, with my planned seduction so rudely interrupted, you gonna pick up where we left off?”
Bo snorted. “Your planned seduction? By coming on like a Mack truck with no brakes?”
“I thought you liked Mack trucks with no brakes.”
“Sometimes. Other times I like—” Bo cupped Lucky’s cheek. Shivers raced up Lucky’s spine at the heat in Bo’s eyes, gone when Bo pressed their lips together. He moaned when Bo’s tongue entered his mouth.
The couch reclined without warning. Bo crashed down, bodyto-body with Lucky. Lucky decided he loved the couch, arching up to rub his stiffening erection against Bo’s thigh through their clothes.
“Still think I’m a heartless asshole?” he had to ask.
Bo withdrew, staring down with the same fiery passion Lucky’d witnessed in the boss’s office earlier. “You’re an unmitigated, arrogant asshole. But the thing is, you don’t hide it. You’re what your life made you. You don’t apologize, you don’t make excuses, you just
are.
And if I find myself up shit creek without a paddle, you’re the one man I’d trust to help me get out.”
“But I piss you off.”
“Of course you piss me off. You take my beliefs and spin them around. I can’t tell you how bad it irks me to have to see things from a different angle, when I had them all figured out. Usually, and I stress
usually
, after I’ve had a chance to give the matter some thought, I see your point. I don’t always agree with you, but I get you.”
“Are you saying you’re willing to put up with me?” Lucky held his breath.
“Put up with you? I wanna be more like you, not let shit get to me. Let it roll off.”
Really? That’s how Bo saw him? No wonder he’d called Lucky a heartless asshole. “Shit gets to me.”
“But it doesn’t stop you, you don’t even let it show. The harder life pushes, the harder you push back. You’ve never given up on anything in your life, have you?”
Lucky didn’t want to answer the question, too busy absorbing Bo’s words. “Well, I—”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we gonna talk or are we gonna fuck?” Bo brought his mouth down again, tongue gliding against Lucky’s.
He rolled Lucky’s shirt up and off. The sweet slide of Bo’s flesh against his own stiffened Lucky’s cock nearly to the point of painful. He popped the button on his shorts, running a hand betweenhis and Bo’s bodies to ease his zipper down and free himself.
He wriggled, one hand slipping beneath the back of Bo’s shorts, the other tugging down his own. At last he sat with his shorts and boxers to his knees, Bo stretched out on top of him. A little more shuffling and another wild tilt of the couch had them both naked.
Bo ground down, breath hot in Lucky’s ear. “I’ve been wanting this all day,” he whispered. He traced Lucky’s ear with his tongue, stopping to suck the lobe into his mouth.
Lucky splayedhis hands across the irresistible swells of Bo’s ass, guiding the press of body to body. He loved the feel of his cock sliding against another man’s, the guttural moans, the firm muscles flexing beneath his fingertips, the distinctly masculine scent of man-on-man sex. Being with Bo multiplied the pleasure by ten. He snaked one hand down between their bodies, grasping their erections, while stroking his other hand lower on Bo’s ass. Brushing his fingers against the pucker surrounding Bo’s hole, he explored and caressed, not trying to penetrate.
Bo cradled Lucky’s head in his arms, breathy little noises growing in pitch, hips snapping a frantic rhythm. He rammed hard into Lucky’s hand and back against the fingers teasing his opening.
While Lucky only intended a warm up, Bo seemed to be speeding ahead of him. Around them the couch squeaked and squawked, Lucky’s sweat-damp skin sticking to faux leather.
Pre-come slicked his fingers, sending them sliding over their joined flesh more easily. He pressed a fingertipharder against Bo’s opening, too damned caught up to bring it to his mouth for a good wetting. Falling, falling, lost in the slide, push, shove of their bodies, the tingling that heralded things to come. “I’m gonna come!” he growled, rhythm faltering as desperation took over.
Harder and harder Lucky shoved. He gripped them both with one hand, and with the other grabbed Bo’s shoulder, back, or wherever his fingers found purchase. Bo’s teeth clamped down on his shoulder, sending him sailing over the edge. He frantically stroked his and Bo’s cocks, groaning through completion. With a slippery grasp he continued to stroke until Bo stiffened, crying out.
Sweat and come slicked, Lucky lay with an armload of sated Bo. Once he’d recovered enough breath to speak again he said, “I definitely like this couch.”

“You ought to bring a change of clothes over here,” Bo said, placing a bowl of cut fruit on the table, along with a platter of cheese cubes, before returning to the kitchen for pita bread, crackers, and hummus. He also brought back a saucer containing deli sliced turkey. How could Lucky not love the man?

Lucky poured them each a glass of wine. “I need to talk to you,” he said, hating to ruin his post-sex buzz with business. But they only had a weekend, and a lot to accomplish.

“Oh?” Bo plopped down on the couch, reaching for a strawberry.
“Yeah. Come Monday morning, Walter’s getting an email saying I quit.”
“You what?” Bo doubled over, coughing. Maybe Lucky should have waited until his mouthwasn’t full to tell him. After a few back pats and a bit of gasping, Bo shot him a hostile glare. “Why the hell did you do that for? You’re good at what you do, and I thought you liked your job.”
Lucky tried to appear nonchalant. Truth was, he did love his job, and would stack Walter up against any previous bosses. Of course, he’d only had two—a wealthy, opportunistic drug lord and a poor but honest mechanic. Lucky noticed a definite pattern there. “Normally I wipe my hands and say ‘have at it’ when the Feds come in and take a case. Not this time. I…I can’t walk away. It galls the hell out of me that no one’s gone down, and I can’t let it end like this.”
Bo’s freckles stood out in stark relief against his suddenly pale skin. “What do you plan to do? Lucky, please don’t do anything stupid. You just got off probation.”
“There’s nothing illegal about taking a vacation, is there?” He gave Bo his best innocent expression.
“Innocent isn’t a good look for you,” Bo sniped. “Now spit it out. What have you got up yoursleeve?”
Lucky grinned, running his eyes up and down his and Bo’s naked bodies. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not wearing sleeves.”
“Hardy har har. Stop stalling and spill.”
Lucky stopped smiling. “I’m going hunting. And I want you to help me.”

“This is too easy. And you’re sure that’s all there is to it?” Their meal forgotten in favor of wine and talking shop, Bo punched a few buttons on Lucky’s laptop.

“Pretty much.” While Lucky enjoyed breaking in the new couch, pleather or whatever the hell they called not-really-leather wasn’t kind to bare skin. He eased a cheek away from the cushion, hoping he didn’t stick again. Who knew skin stuck to that shit hurt so damned bad when he tried to get up? “Every other day Grayson’s wife gets a call from a cell phone registered to a friend. Even without GPS enabled, it’s an easy matter to track back to the source. He’s not taking any chances, calling from various tourist attractions. Do you spot the pattern?” Lucky raised his fingertip to the laptop screen. He traced over marked off locations on a map, weaving back and forth and stopping over a star, indicating a major city.

“He’s staying here,” Bo’s finger joined Lucky’s, “and he’s traveling to make his phone calls.”
Lucky nodded. “Could be on sight-seeing tours, or might have rented a car, though I haven’t been able to track any rental. He might be taking a cab.”
“Why haven’t the Mexican police gotten him yet?”
“The local cops have their hands too full to track one American. If he faced murder charges it’d be a different matter, but chances are, he’ll get off light. There’s no proof he was involved in trafficking, he simply bought a product on faith. Besides, there’s precedent, remember? Those other doctors who did the same got off with ‘misbranding’ or some other minor charge. Grayson’s not a killer. He acted to save his patients, or so somebody told me.” The resulting deaths gnawed at Lucky, and he planned to set things right. Grayson might get off, Rasmussen’s days were numbered.
“If he’s not in serious trouble, what do you want him for? And why’s he running if he’s not guilty?” Damned if Bo didn’t need to work on that annoying sympathy for suspects.
“Grayson has no idea of the possible charges, and he’s scared. I need to lure Rasmussen out of hiding, and I’m hoping Grayson can tell me how to find him. Once we have Rasmussen, we can follow the trail back to the manufacturer. It’s them that I really want.”
“And you don’t trust the Chinese authorities to find them?”
“Let’s just say I’m crazy enough to think they can use my help.”
Bo raised his eyes to meet Lucky’s. “You’re not gonna let this one go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
Lucky didn’t let his gaze waver. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”
Bo cocked his head to the side,an “I’m not so sure” expression on his face. “Stubborn ass.”
“If you’re worried, you don’t have to help me. I’ll find another way.” Lucky took a deep breath before coming as close to a confession as he dared. “I want your support, and for you to understand why I have to do this.”
Bo turned away, staring down at his joined fingers. “I understand, and I’ll do whatever I can to help,” he replied after a few moments. “I keep dreaming about those kids.”
While nothing could stop Lucky from doing what he believed he must, a load lifted. He planted a kiss on Bo’s forehead. “I’ve got a pretty good idea exactly where Grayson is staying. Once I know for sure I’ll let pass on the information and you can take it from there.”
“I’d go with you, you know.”
Tightly pursed lips, chin raised, Bo in full defiant mode. If Lucky ever found himself up shit creek, he’d pick his partner, too, to help him get out. Together they’d drain the motherfucker. “I know you would,” Lucky replied, “but remember, you can’t leave the country. And we can’t risk your probation.”
“But why quit your job? Why not simply tell Walter…”
“I tried. He’ll protect his team. What I plan to do he’d never allow. Mexico is way out of our jurisdiction.”
“What will you do when it’s over?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
Bo sat quietly for a few moments before reaching over to grasp Lucky’s hand. “Will you be leaving?”
Actually, Lucky’s current plans pretty much ended at
giving the assholes what they got coming.
“Do you want me to?”
Bo peered up from beneath a fringe of dark lashes. “No. I’ve kinda got used to having you around. And…I’ve told you things.”
“What things?”
“Things I’ve never told anybody else.”
The blatant honesty was more than Lucky’d earned. He’d always considered himself the least trustworthy man on the planet, and yet Bo had told him about being abused, about the horrors of war, how he hated sleeping alone in a bed because his father used to tie him down at night. And lately, he’d offered not-so-scary stuff, trusting Lucky enough to share his fantasies. Yeah, Lucky’d kinda gotten used to having Bo around, too.
Bo’s “You’re coming back, right?” shook Lucky out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. There’s a rather handsome tomcat I need to get back to.”
Bo laughed. “A tomcat? Is that what you picture me as?”
Heh. Bo left himself wide open for a jab. “You?” Lucky shot back, hand pressed to his collarbone. “Why’s everything gotta be about you? I was talking about Mrs. Griggs’s cat.”
“Oh, the one you’ve been letting in the house?”
Wait. What? “How’d you…”
“Mrs. Griggs told me. Remember the ‘houseplants’ I found in your refrigerator? Well, I didn’t figure you’d take care of them, especially not with us in Anderson, so before we left I called your landlady and asked her to make sure they got watered. She’s been keeping me posted. Congratulations. You’re the proud papa of a bunch of little spuds.”
Lucky found it hard to keep one step ahead with their jokes when Bo took such pains, even weeks of planning, to get the last word in.