Free Diversion 2 - Collusion by Eden Winters Page A

overanalyzing any encounters lasting longer than twentyfour hours. Not that he’d tell Bo. The past should stay in the past.
Lucky stepped up behind as Bo stood at the sink, elbow deep in soapy water. He rose up on his toes to whisper in Bo’s ear, “You like my mouth on you, don’t ya?”
Bo moaned a response.
Lucky exhaled against Bo’s ear. “And you like riding me, but what else turns you on?”
He blew another puff of warm breath across the back of Bo’s neck. Bo shivered and answered without turning around. “Why do you think I’ve been trying to get you to come here?”
Leaving the dishes half-washed in the sink, he dried his hands on a dishtowel and silently left the room. Lucky didn’t hesitate to follow down the hall to the lone bedroom.
“Sit,” Bo commanded, pointing to the bed.
Oh, so rookie boy wants to call the shots? Maybe not all the time, but tonight Lucky’d turn over the reins. He relaxed onto the bed, keeping an open mind about where the night might lead.
Bo lit two candles and turned out the overhead light. Next, he flipped through a few CDs and picked one to slide into a player that doubled as the bedside clock.
An electronic dance mix started and Bo turned around, suddenly transformed into someone far more self-assured and even a bit cocky. The blood rushed from Lucky’s brain for a vacation south of the beltline.
Bo flexed and strutted to the beat, not the timid “Hey! I’m moving my hips!” dancing of the insecure, but a bumping, grinding, vertical sex scene for one. He humped the air, lips set in a thin line and a smoldering gleam in his eyes. His normally mild mannered persona slipped to the floor along with an apron.
In perfect time with the pulsing beat, he slowly opened his shirt. One button at a time, Bo flaunted glimpses of skin before covering them up again. When the shirt fluttered to the floor, Lucky barely contained a shout, “Yeah, baby, take it all off.”
Bo fumbled with his belt buckle and flashed Lucky a smile of pure seduction, while unfastening and slowly pulling the woven strip from each loop. The belt joined the shirt and apron. He swiveled his hips in exaggerated fashion, slowly rotating to give Lucky an unobstructed view of his ass.
As Bo’s firm cheeks bounced and wriggled, he lowered his pants, twin globes peeking over the waistband. Lower and lower, inch by inch, Bo revealed his stunning bubble-butt. Hello, there, boys! Did you miss me?
Lucky reached down, palming his cock through the denim of his jeans. How long was this damned song? Shouldn’t Bo be naked by now?
The world’s longest remix played on, Bo teasing Lucky to the point of pain. He let the pants fall and kicked them out of the way. The dance continued, his hip thrusts more suggestive, more primal. Bo’s runner’s build wasn’t as bulky as some dancers Lucky’d watched over the years, but damn if he didn’t have the moves down.
“I stripped some in college to make a few extra bucks,” Bo said, beginning to pant. He ran his hands up and over his sweatslicked chest. “Guys used to shove dollar bills in my thong.” He reached down, caressing his cock, now tenting out the thin cotton of his boxers. He dropped to his knees and pumped his hips, mimicking plunging into a lover.
“Ever go home with any of them?” Lucky’s groin ached for a hand, a mouth, or any other willing orifice. He rubbed himself harder.
“On occasion.” Bo’s eyes met Lucky’s. “Never for money. Some of the other guys did, but dancing got me hot.”
Sweat gleamed on Bo’s skin in the candlelight, and he moaned, releasing himself suddenly. He gave Lucky a sheepish smile. “Got a little too close to coming, there.”
Music apparently forgotten, he crawled forward on his hands and knees and buried his face in Lucky’s crotch to mouth Lucky’s erection through denim.
Quiet, unassuming Bo, half naked, surrounded by faceless strangers, all wanting him for the night. Some had him, some never would. Tonight he was