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talking about Mom and Dad and revealed Dad’s place on a liver transplant list, reproachful feline eyes
    ensured Lucky didn’t hurl anything breakable.
    While technically the cat belonged to the landlady, by all appearances, Human Lucky belonged to Cat Lucky. And Cat Lucky apparently viewed caring for his
    human as a serious responsibility.
    “I can’t believe we let fifteen pounds of cat boss us around.” Lucky rose and extended his uninjured arm toward Bo.
    “Closer to twenty, and speak for yourself. Unlike some people, I don’t require a cat chaperone to keep me out of trouble.” Bo
    grasped Lucky’s hand and hoisted himself to his feet. “And he wasn’t nearly as big when you first got him. Have you been
    bribing him with tuna not to smother you in your sleep? I mean, at the rate he’s going, he’ll be bigger than you by next
    week.”
    “I’m big where it counts.”
    Bo opened his mouth; Lucky slapped a hand over his lips. “All ya gotta do is nod, ‘cause you know it’s true.”
    Lucky had once met an agent who spoke six languages, and yet that man couldn’t come close to how well Bo communicated with a lifted brow, a
lowered chin, and upturned eyes that said better than words ever could, Oh, please, give it a rest. And if you don’t take your hand off of my mouth, I will hurt you.
    With descending darkness and declining temperatures chasing away any possible witnesses, Bo and Lucky strolled hand in hand to their vehicles, although
    Lucky did keep their joined digits low and close to his body to minimize undue attention. Wasn’t anybody’s business if a fine man like
    Bo took leave of his senses enough to want to hold hands with Lucky. No fire, no brimstone, no falling sky resulted from the public display of affection,
    and no coworker popped out from behind a tree, pointing and yelling, “Aha! I knew it! Wait until I tell Walter!”
    Bo’s heartwarming smile and a quick squeeze of his fingers conveyed his approval, though Lucky kept a watchful eye on the trees and shrubs.
    They made their way to Bo’s truck and climbed inside. “Are you cold? Want me to turn on the heat?” Bo asked.
    “Fuck the cold,” Lucky replied. Their eyes met, and they moved as one, mouths meshing over the console. Bo’s insistent tongue
    forced its way into Lucky’s mouth at the same instant Lucky aimed for Bo’s. Lucky wrestled Bo into the backseat amidst groping hands
    scrabbling for purchase, and his lover’s mouth latched onto his neck on that precise spot.
    Bo sprawled on his back, one leg on the backseat, one on the floor. Lucky knelt on the seat between Bo’s spread legs, bracing his weight on his
    knees and one arm.
    “Oh, God!” Bo exclaimed, plunging his hand into Lucky’s pants and wrapping chilly fingers around his full erection. He threw
    his head back against the side window, arching his neck and giving Lucky room to explore. Bo’s skin tasted of salt and man, with the slightest
    bitter nip of cologne. Lucky rolled Bo’s T-shirt up and off to pay homage to smooth skin and hard muscles with his fingertips. He mapped out
    Bo’s chest, the smattering of hair on well-defined pecs, rigid nipple nubs, the flat planes of belly. Bo’s muscles were lean like a
    runner’s or swimmer’s, as opposed to Lucky’s more pronounced bulges, acquired from a punishing workout bordering on penance.
    Lucky put his muscles to good use. He crawled off the seat and onto the floorboard, lifting enough to tug Bo’s shorts down and slip the long
    length of the man’s uncut cock between his lips. Again the saltiness and musk of man exploded on his tongue, along with the tang of pre-come.
    Lucky moaned, taking Bo’s ass cheeks in his hands and pushing, forcing Bo’s flesh deeper into his throat.
    Bo threaded his fingers through Lucky’s hair. “That feels so fucking amazing,” he slurred.
    Lucky stilled Bo’s hips, bobbing straight up and down to minimize the truck’s rocking. Darkly-tinted windows and