The waves swept Elliot away, but he’d never been more eager to drown.
When they finally came back to shore, he discovered that he was sprawled atop Lucas’s heaving chest. His aching channel quivered around Lucas’s shaft, which still pulsed gently within him. They quaked against each other, muscles twitching randomly as their neurons misfired.
Lucas buried his hand in Elliot’s hair, and his voice was a dark gift as he murmured praise in his ear. Elliot wished he could respond, but try as he might, he couldn’t wet his throat enough to speak.
He’d never come so hard in his life. He’d never even dreamed it was possible. Sex for him had always been pleasant but awkward. He was fairly certain he wasn’t objectionable at it, yet he’d always felt somewhat like an imposter. It was as if he’d been play acting his sexual roles his entire life, hiding his true self all the while. That hadn’t been an option with Lucas.
Lucas had given him no quarter, demanding his full attention every second, with that rough, gravel voice giving him a constant stream of filthy encouragement. He thought perhaps he could get off to that voice alone. He’d like to try. When he remembered every dirty, delicious thing Lucas had said to him, he felt certain the other man would like it as much as he would.
Even now, that voice was murmuring in the empty cavern of his orgasm-shot brain, and Elliot could do nothing but curl against him and sigh.
“It has never been that good,” he croaked.
Lucas took him by the chin and forced him to meet his eyes. “You’ve got a lot of fire hidden beneath those suits, Mr. Smith. You just needed someone to encourage you to let it out.”
“You’re hired,” Elliot joked.
Lucas’s lashes dropped, and he appeared to retreat inside his own thoughts. Elliot’s heart hitched in fear that this had been his one shot. He’d never regret it, even if this turned out to be a one night stand, but going back to his solitary life after finally realizing what he was missing would be agony.
The air felt cold against his damp skin as he pulled away and began the process of untangling them, but Lucas yanked him back down. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled. “We haven’t finished exploring my benefits package.”
Elliot burst into relieved laughter, and Lucas grinned. It was a startlingly boyish grin, impudent and slightly vulnerable around the edges.
Elliot felt the last frightened corners of his heart crumble.
This feeling, this wonderful feeling of being heard and seen and treasured, was worth any risk.
11
Lucas
Boyfriend. The word sounded ridiculous, even though Lucas didn’t dare acknowledge it anywhere but his own head. But after spending almost every night with Elliot for the past three weeks, he realized calling it a hookup wasn’t fooling anyone.
There was more to what they had than just sex. He’d never enjoyed someone else’s company so damned much. Elliot was witty, intelligent, and empathetic, and their conversations ran the gamut between fun and meaningful. The time he spent with Elliot fed a part of him that had been hungry since his father died.
At first, they went out for dinner or drinks, but Lucas’s wallet couldn’t sustain it for very long, and he bristled whenever Elliot offered to pay for anything. It was the closest they came to fighting, but Elliot quickly backed down as soon as he saw that Lucas had no intention of giving in. It turned out neither of them missed sitting around making small talk in public, wishing they were somewhere else, somewhere they could touch each other the way they wanted. Elliot wasn’t shy, but he had some peculiar, old-fashioned ideas about decorum, and public displays of affection seemed high on his list of unacceptable actions.
More often than not, Lucas ended up swinging by Elliot’s house after work. He usually arrived way before Elliot, who was apparently attempting to cut back at the office with little success, so Elliot had begun leaving a key under the mat. Lucas wasn’t okay with him risking a burglary just to keep him out of the cold, so by mutual agreement, the key had ended up on his keyring instead.
Elliot’s place had about as much personality as a hotel room, but it had good bones and a fucking Mecca of a bathroom, with a jetted tub and a shower large enough to fit them both. Washing off the work grime in that blazing hot shower, with a cold beer perched next to the shower gel, was one step away from paradise. He’d never taken such indulgent showers in his life, but he was rapidly spoiled by them. By the time he toweled off, Elliot was usually pulling into the driveway, looking tired and rumpled.
His smile, when he found Lucas reclining on his leather sofa, was worth its weight in gold. They’d already had some great times on that sofa, thanks to the way Elliot looked at him when he walked in the door.
Since they both liked sports, Elliot had purchased a big screen T.V. so they could watch games together, despite Lucas’s insistence that they could just use his place. He was secretly grateful for that. Elliot had yet to visit his rattletrap apartment, and Lucas wasn’t in a hurry for it to happen. It was the best home he’d ever had, and he was proud of it, but it wasn’t anything near the quality a man of Elliot’s caliber was accustomed to. As down to earth as he was, there was no way Elliot could avoid making a few silent judgments.
So they spent most of their time at Elliot’s house. It wasn’t so bad now that there was a T.V. and real food in the refrigerator. The next step was to get Elliot talking seriously about that deck he wanted to build, which sounded fucking awesome. Lucas knew his way around a set of carpentry tools, and it would be a pure pleasure to help make that dream a reality.
All things considered, he had a lot of reasons to be smiling at work, but that didn’t mean he was eager to share any of those reasons with the rest of the garage. The guys already ribbed him daily about why he’d stopped barking at them. There were plenty of theories about where he was dipping his wick.
“You win the Powerball this morning, Boss?” Tracy called from the check-in desk. He had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder and was juggling a pile of smudged receipts.
“Nah!” Antonio yelled from deep in the bay. “There’s a sale on the motor oil he calls coffee!”
“What I want to know is does this guy have an ass like Beyonce?” Tracy joked. He coughed and zoomed his attention back to his phone call. “Uh, no, not you, Mr. Sweitzer. The pump is on back order…”
Lucas shook his head and continued his safety inspection of the hydraulic jacks.
“Man, how come you let them talk to you like that?” The new kid came up behind him, holding a corroded battery in one hand. “You ain’t like no boss I ever saw.”
Lucas didn’t bother looking up from his clipboard. He made another checkmark in pencil and said wryly, “I saw your resume, Julio. You’ve never had a boss.”
“None that paid me.” Julio shrugged and hitched up the sagging waist of his jumpsuit. “But don’t get it twisted, Mr. Kelly. I’ve had bosses my whole fuckin’ life.”
Lucas was painfully aware of the truth in that. In his experience, it was the same for any kid below a certain income level. His life had been the same, a bog standard example of the school-to-prison pipeline and nothing more. Hell, even after he’d been released from Snake River, he’d been walking on eggshells around Arnold and pissing in cups. It was a fucking miracle A.J. had taken him in. He hadn’t merely given Lucas a chance to earn a decent living. He’d given him something to work for and a chance to have some pride in himself for the first time in his life.
Elliot had unknowingly given him the opportunity to pay forward A.J.’s good deed. If anyone needed someone to believe in him, it was Julio Gonzalez. The kid was a decent worker, and he was smart. He was too smart for his own good, and that made him angry. He had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. He reminded Lucas far too much of himself, back when smashing windows had no longer satisfied the anger and shame inside him.
“That from the CRV?” Lucas asked, nodding at the battery in Julio’s hands.
“Yup.”
Julio set it on a box of batteries ready for disposal and selected a new one from the shelf. “But we should just do the owner a favor and light it on fire. Why would someone shell out all that money for a new car and then treat it like shit? It’s not even three years old! I thought I was gonna get herpes from the cupholders.”
Lucas laughed. One of the endlessly entertaining benefits of his job was seeing all the weird shit people did to their vehicles. “Remind me to tell you about the time Tracy found a clown mask and a strap-on in the trunk.”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“Nope. He was convinced that one of us had hidden it as a prank, so he tossed it in the dumpster. Then the owner comes to pick up his car, some bald older guy who looked like Danny DeVito, and while they’re chatting, the guy mentions he has a gig that weekend. Cool, Tracy says, what kind of gig? The guy just says he’s a clown who performs at adult parties.” Lucas grinned at the memory. “Tracy had to climb into the dumpster to get the costume back and stow it in the trunk before the owner noticed it was missing. I made him sanitize the dildo first, though. I don’t think he’s forgiven me.”
The kid’s big brown eyes had popped wide, and he shook his head in disgust. “People are crazy.”
“Yup, and that’s just the harmless ones.” Lucas clapped the kid on the shoulder. “Now get back to the CRV.”
He spent the rest of the day in his office, investigating a disappearing shipment of gaskets, and Julio finished the CRV under Antonio’s eagle-eyed supervision. Elliot had been correct, the kid had a good instinct for mechanics, but he had no formal training. He didn’t even know the basics, like keeping his tools off the damn floor, and he was bound to injure someone without a babysitter. But he was a quick learner, and they needed the extra pair of hands. He had a big mouth and was quick to talk shit, but the crew seemed to put up with him okay, as if he was an obnoxious younger brother. He would be a good fit once they got him trained up. Lucas reminded himself to thank Elliot for the recommendation.
It wasn’t until the end of the day that Julio knocked on the frame of his office door. Lucas glanced up from his current spreadsheet hell. “Yeah?” he growled.
“Uh, I can come back if…”
“No.” He scrubbed a hand over his blurry eyes. “Sorry. Come in. Those numbers aren’t going anywhere.”
Julio stepped a few feet closer but still lurked by the door, like a kid who had been dragged to the principal’s office. “I guess I never thought about how much went into running a place like this.”
Lucas grunted.
“You need to learn a lot of math and shit, huh?”
“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your own place. Things come easier when no one is forcing you.”
Julio nodded, but he looked skeptical. Lucas figured he was working up his courage to ask something, judging by the way he nibbled his thumbnail and shifted nervously from foot to foot. Eventually, he took a deep breath and blurted out, “Who’s Danny DeVito?”
Lucas blinked. “What?”
“Earlier, you said some guy looked like Danny DeVito. Who is that?”
“Jesus, kid. How old are you? Fuck, how old am I?”
“I ain’t no kid. You can’t come out of prison still a kid.”
“Bullshit.” Lucas had known many repeat offenders who were perpetual children, narcissists with low impulse control. “Why did you really come in here, besides to make me feel ancient at the ripe old age of twenty-seven?”
Julio shuffled. He scratched his ear. “I, uh… I know payday isn’t until next Friday, but I was wondering if you could advance me a couple hundred?”
Oh, boy. Lucas hated this part of being an employer. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his neck, spearing the kid with a hard look. “What for?”
“My grams,” Julio rushed out. “Medicare don’t cover the only kind of pain pills she can take. The rest make her puke. So we’ve got to pay out of pocket. The cold weather gets to her bad.”
Lucas was silent.
“You can even take interest out of my check,” Julio offered hopefully.
“I’m not a bank, Julio. If I was in the habit of giving advances, Tonio would be in here every day so he could buy another fucking Pokemon card or whatever the hell it is he collects on eBay.”
“Yeah, I know, never mind—”
“Let me finish.” He sighed. The kid looked miserable. “I know what you’re going through. I ate nothing but bread and peanut butter for a month after I got hired here, and it was worth it. Anything to get off the street and into a place.” He considered for a long moment. “I’ll do it for you this one time, and only— only—” he jabbed a finger at him, “because you started between pay periods and have to wait an extra week for your check.”
The light that shined out of the kid’s face was embarrassing to witness. The tough guy facade had melted away like a snow mask. He looked like a little boy, excited to take care of his grandma the way she deserved.
“Thanks, Mr. Kelly. Man, I owe you one. You got no idea.”
His gratitude made Lucas uncomfortable. “It’s coming from your check,” he reminded him gruffly.
“I know. Thank you, for reals.”
Lucas had just finished cutting the check and passed it to Julio, who quickly shoved it into his back pocket and asked, “Hey, uh, could you do me one more favor?”
“Kid, now you’re getting on my nerves.”
“It’s nothing big! Just, uh… I know you and Mr. Smith are friends. He hooked me up here, right? I was wondering if you could maybe not say anything about this to him?”
Lucas frowned.
“It’s just that I think he’s almost bailed on me a couple times already. He thinks I can’t hack it. We go to appeals court next week and all, so I really want him to think I’ve got my shit together.”
“Get out of here, Julio,” Lucas said tiredly.
“Right. Sorry. No biggie. Thanks, bruh. I mean, Mr. Kelly.” He almost tripped over his baggy coveralls fleeing the office.
Lucas was left with a headache over his right eye and the bewildering realization that he wasn’t just some shmuck anymore. He was the boss now, not a kid living off someone else’s approval. He was the guy who had it all figured out, at least in the eyes of someone like Julio.
Damn.
12
Elliot
“Yo, Elliot! Hold up a sec!” Miguel came zooming at him like a caffeine-fueled puma, cutting off Elliot’s retreat out the door.
He sighed. Today was supposed to be the first day this week he made it home on time. Lucas had bet him it wouldn’t happen, and it was a bet Elliot wanted to win. He’d been half hard all afternoon just thinking about the terms of their agreement.
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he growled as Miguel pounced beside him.
“Not anymore, amigo.” Miguel grabbed the messenger bag from his shoulder and tossed it onto Stella’s empty reception desk. “You’ve got to get your ass into the conference room. Maks is about five seconds away from needing his own counsel for homicide.”
The muscle beneath Elliot’s eye began to twitch. “Why can’t you do it?”
“I tried, man. No one listens to me, you know that. Besides, I kind of agree with him.”
“Who’s he in there with?”
“You know that dry cleaner, Mr. Suvari? He’s got the complainant in there with her counsel, who’s an enormous prick. For real, the guy has his head so far up his own ass he’s practically inside out. You know Maks don’t play like that.”
“So? Let him hand them their asses in court.”
“Suvari don’t want no day in court, remember? He’s afraid they’ll revoke his green card. We’ve got to settle this thing.”
Elliot glanced at his watch and imagined Lucas waiting for him in the shower, wearing nothing but that sexy dimple in his left cheek. Surprising him by climbing in behind him would be so sweet. “Where’s Alex?” he asked desperately.
“He gho
sted at three this afternoon. Perks of being the boss.”
“Fuck!” Elliot scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Okay. I’m going.”
“You’re doing God’s work, bruh!”
Elliot gave him the finger over his shoulder as he stalked down the hall. When this was over, he was giving Kovalenko a reaming that would make him cross-eyed. That asshole had more cock and swagger than the rest of the office combined, and he couldn’t handle one jackass across the negotiating table? What happened to that legendary Ukrainian cool?
He stepped into the conference room, and the first thing he saw was Mr. Suvari seated at their battered table. He was a small, middle-aged man with a kind face and a scoliosis hump. Today, he looked more shrunken in on himself than ever. Maksim sat beside him.
Elliot had watched Maksim in negotiations before. Much to his chagrin, the man was a freakishly good attorney, and everyone stood to learn something from him. But for once, his glacial cool was unaccountably absent, melted like an iceberg on the surface of the sun, until all that was left was steam. Elliot had never seen him so close to blowing his lid.
“Ah, Smith. Come and join the shitshow.” Maksim sneered at the people seated across the table.
Elliot looked. He did a double take.
There, sitting beside a rail thin woman in a designer dress, sat Greg Vernon. Elliot was so startled to see his ex-lover outside his own self-flagellating memories that, for a moment, he stood there blinking like a confused moose.
“Elliot.” Greg’s smile was very white and slightly crooked. Elliot had once found it boyish, but now realized it was more like a perpetual smirk. Greg thrust his hand over the table, and Elliot shook it numbly. Greg’s palm was cool and soft. “I was wondering if we’d run into you today!”
Elliot had always considered Greg Vernon a handsome man. Now, however, he realized that he’d confused well groomed with physical good looks. Greg was average at best, with a thin runner’s body and brown hair cut and parted in a classic prep school style. He had a high forehead, a thin mouth, and what Elliot’s father would have called ‘a weak chin.’ His best feature was his eyes, which were a warm brown. They had always held a little gleam that Elliot had once found mischievous.
Risk Assessment Page 8
