by Leta Blake
“That makes sense,” Grant said, though he wasn’t sure that it did. Leo was confounding in so many ways. Still, it didn’t hurt to agree.
“She was so tiny. She could fit in both of my hands. And I said to Curtis, ‘We’re so lucky to have her. We’re going to make her life perfect in every way.’” Leo laughed then, a little bitterly, but he kept talking. “And Curtis said, ‘That’s it! Her name is Lucky!’ And he was right. I took one look at her and knew that he was right. So she’s been my good luck charm ever since.”
Grant let out a slow breath, allowed his hand to move from Leo’s shoulder, up to Leo’s hair, and then massaged the back of Leo’s neck gently. He didn’t mention that between contracting myocarditis, requiring a heart transplant, and now having two bum kidneys, Leo’s life had been anything but lucky since Lucky had been born.
“It’s a terrible name,” he said instead.
Leo laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s actually Lucille Marie, and she can choose to go by either of those when she’s older if she wants. For now, she’s Lucky.”
“Or Robot Twinklestars,” Grant said, quipping a pretend game Lucky had been playing when he saw her the day before.
“Robot Twinklestars eats her breakfast,” Leo said in a robotic monotone. “Robot Twinklestars brushes her teeth. All systems functioning. All systems ready for the day.”
Grant laughed, his hand moving back to Leo’s shoulder, feeling the heat of his body through his thin shirt. Leo sighed, rested his head back on the couch, and then turned to face Grant, his eyes wide and dark, and his lips wet, open, and inviting.
“Leo,” Grant said softly, leaning closer. “I want to kiss you again.”
Leo whispered, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me again for a long time now. For like, the last fifteen minutes.”
“That is a long time,” Grant murmured.
“Felt like eternity.”
Leo’s mouth was hot, and Grant couldn’t get enough of it. He expected Leo to push him away, to stop it before things got heated like before, but Leo just slid down on the sofa, bringing Grant on top of him, and things grew intense very fast.
“I thought we were waiting for this,” Grant said, panting into Leo’s mouth.
“Changed my mind. I’m entitled.” Leo laughed, kissing Grant hard.
“Get your shirt off. I want to touch you.”
“Later,” Leo said, grinding up against him like a high schooler. “This is good. All systems functioning,” Leo muttered, pushing his hips against Grant. “All systems ready for the day.”
Grant shut him up with another kiss, and Leo wasn’t long in giving in completely to the moment. He wrapped his legs around Grant’s back, humping up. The sound of their blue jeans scraping together was almost as loud as Leo’s hot breath in his ear. It was going to end a lot faster than Grant wanted it to, but the ache in his cock and the desire to be closer to Leo drove him on. They clutched each other and moved desperately together.
As Leo’s wet mouth moved down onto Grant’s neck, Grant could hear him babbling, pleas of yeah, and good, and harder. It was hot, so fucking hot.
“Leo,” Grant murmured, and Leo shook against him, releasing a high, needy sound that ricocheted through Grant like a bullet of want. Grant clutched Leo’s shoulders, buried his face in Leo’s neck, and jerked in Leo’s arms as he came, muffling his cry by biting down on Leo’s straining throat.
Leo made a startled noise and then shook hard, trembling as he cried out and came, too. He arched against Grant, clutching Grant’s head to his neck, and encouraging the pain.
After they both calmed, panting and kissing each other down from the height of orgasm, Grant kissed the mark he’d made on Leo’s neck, and pulled away to examine it. The teeth marks were deeper than he’d thought, but when he looked into Leo’s eyes, he saw nothing but hot, liquid warmth, affection, and gratitude.
“Did I hurt you?” Grant asked, his finger tracing the red mark.
Leo’s legs relaxed down so that Grant was resting between them, and, chest to chest, Grant felt Leo’s heart pounding. Leo blushed a deep red, averting his eyes and looking a little ashamed. In that moment, Grant knew that he had hurt him, and, more importantly, he knew that Leo had liked it.
“Well, that’s good to know,” Grant murmured.
“Yeah?” Leo asked.
“Very good to know.”
Leo’s already flushed face grew a bit darker, but he admitted, “I liked it. I liked that you didn’t treat me like I’m fragile.”
“You? Fragile? You’re a strapping farm-bred piece of man meat,” Grant said.
Leo laughed. “That makes me sound like bacon. Though, I remember you told me at Red’s Breakfast Café last week that bacon is your one true love, so I should be flattered by any real or imagined comparison.”
“Indeed. You should be. Bacon is sacred, after all. Like Jesus, or Mahatma, or the Dalai Lama, only so much better than all of them combined, because it actually does what it claims to do. It tastes like bacon.”
“This is the most bizarre post-sex conversation I’ve ever had,” Leo murmured.
“Oh, sorry, was superstar Mr. Curtis Banks more gracious? Should I tell you that you have beautiful eyes and that I want to be with you forever now?”
“If you wanted to say that, I wouldn’t be offended.” Leo laughed again, moving to the side, wedged between the sofa back and Grant’s body. “But, really, right now I just want to clean up. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable in here.” He motioned toward his pants as he untangled himself from Grant.
Watching Leo wash off, staring at him in the bathroom mirror, Grant had to admit that at least part of what he’d joked about was definitely true. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist. Leo caught his expression in the glass and smiled.
“It’s true,” Grant said.
“What is?”
“That you have beautiful eyes.”
Leo lowered his lashes, and laughed a little, and then glanced up to Grant in the mirror. “Is that a compliment? A sincere compliment? I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you.”
Leo stared into Grant’s eyes, and then turned around, looking at him directly. His voice was soft and so damn earnest as he asked, “So, do you think you could ever fall for somebody again?”
Grant narrowed his eyes. “I think that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether the guy is going to stick around this time.”
Leo breathed, “Oh,” and leaned in, pressing a soft, wet kiss to Grant’s mouth.
Chapter Ten
Leo hadn’t spent the night, even though Grant had asked him to; instead, he’d headed home after cleaning up in the bathroom, saying something about needing to do some chores at the so-called ‘farm’ in the morning.
But the next morning, not long after ten, Leo arrived at Grant’s apartment again just as Grant was dressing after his shower. He stood on Grant’s doorstep with grocery bags full of the stuff to make pancakes from scratch and he smiled like the light of midday, brighter than the morning sun.
Grant couldn’t look away from his happy face, and it lifted his spirits, which had been oddly dark since Leo had left the night before. He’d felt scratchy inside, like his brain was wearing an itchy wool sweater, and he couldn’t sleep for wishing that Leo had stayed.
“Good morning,” Leo said, dumping the bags of stuff onto the kitchen counter. “Sleep well?”
Grant scratched at his head, remembering the hours of frustration, and sighed. “Not really, no.”
Leo looked worried, and then came around the counter and put his arms around Grant’s waist, his face all sweet concern. “Did you miss me so much you couldn’t sleep?”
“Something like that.” Grant kissed Leo’s mouth and found the minty taste of toothpaste still on his lips.
“Still want pancakes?” Leo asked, eyebrows lifting with the question.
“Absolu
tely,” Grant said. “Where’s Lucky?”
“Still with my parents. They’re taking her to see a movie this afternoon, so I have all day. What’s your schedule like?”
“I’m free.” Grant’s blood rushed harder, and he wondered whether making pancakes might turn into making love if he played his cards right.
Leo started opening and closing cabinets in Grant’s kitchen, looking for something. “Uh, do you have a griddle or a frying pan?”
“This do?” Grant asked, handing over a barely used frying pan that he’d had since his internship in Seattle. He made grilled cheese with it occasionally, but he didn’t really have the time or skills for much else.
Leo’s phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID, dusting off his hands. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
Leo moved to the window looking out over the parking lot and the cemetery next to the apartment building. “Mrs. Franklin, thank you for calling me back.”
He paused and listened, and as he did his shoulders straightened and his chin went up. “I understand your concern, Mrs. Franklin, but perhaps you didn’t understand my position. As you’re aware, I’ve got some contacts on the school board who might be interested in your methods of discipline, and I have little doubt that they’d see my side of things quite clearly.”
Leo’s voice was low but serious, authoritative and firm. Grant had never heard this voice before. It was a ‘Dad’ voice for sure.
“Yes, Mrs. Franklin, the new library at the school is being funded via a substantial donation from Curtis Banks, Lucky’s other father. And I agree that it is very interesting how that happened so recently, right around the time Lucky got into trouble in your class the first time. Funny how things can be coincidental that way, wouldn’t you say?”
Grant pursed his lips and sat down at the table, relaxing there as Leo continued to essentially threaten one of Lucky’s teachers.
“Now, Mrs. Franklin, do I need to review this with you again? Lucky is going through a very tough time in her life right now. She’s moved across the country, leaving her friends and her other parent behind. She’s coping with my illness, and she’s not exactly fitting in with the other kids. And God knows the way you’ve been treating her hasn’t helped with that.”
Leo paced a little in front of the window, a small, kind of scary smile on his lips. Grant was impressed.
“So, this is how it’s going to be: you’ll sit down with the private instructor that Curtis is flying in on Monday afternoon to develop a plan of action for Lucky’s education. This way, you’ll have a game plan on hand, preapproved by both me and the instructor, for when Lucky inevitably finishes her work before the other kindergarteners. I suggest a letter writing exercise to start with—those skills will always come in handy, such as the letter I have drafted and stamped in my desk drawer. The one addressed to the principal and the school board.”
Leo hummed in response to something Mrs. Franklin said and then went on, “You could start with local celebrities, such as letters to the weather man, the mayor, and the principal. Have Lucky send her regards and any thoughts she might want to share with them. Proofread it for acceptable content, and then mail it. At that point, move on to the state government, bigger celebrities, the King of Denmark, I don’t care, but keep her thinking. Have her read about the people and places she’ll be addressing. Educate my daughter, Mrs. Franklin, because that is your job, and if I hear that you’ve been putting her in a corner for acting out when she’s bored, or that you’ve been pointing out to the other children that she’s odd and has a strange family, which is, frankly, offensive and unprofessional on multiple levels, then I will be compelled, Mrs. Franklin, to go to the school board, and I am sure that they will see my side of things. Am I clear?”
Leo paused to listen a moment, turning to catch Grant watching him. He lifted his chin defensively and ended the call. “Good. I thought we could come to an agreement. Have a wonderful weekend, Mrs. Franklin.”
Leo tucked the cell phone into his pocket and cleared his throat. “So, pancakes,” he said, going back to the batter and stirring it. He seemed tense, as though he were expecting Grant to say something about the call, though Grant had no idea what. Leo looked up and offered challengingly, “Well?”
Grant said, “I’d have her fired. She sounds like an imbecile who has no business near children.”
Leo’s lips twitched. “Really? So you don’t think I overstepped?”
Grant was confused. “The library may have been overkill, but if Curtis Banks has the money to burn, I say go for it. Leverage is good. And standing up for your daughter? How is that overstepping? I’d be angry if you didn’t take that woman to task. Hell, if all you said is true, I think you were too easy on her.”
Leo smiled, looking bashful and pleased. Grant felt pulled in by the expression, wanting to be closer, wanting to touch and kiss it, make Leo whimper the way he had the night before.
Leo was so confoundedly sexy in all of his iterations.
Leo began the process of making perfectly round pancakes in the frying pan, dividing his attention. He said, “She was my teacher once. A long time ago. I heard her husband passed away last year and that she doesn’t really have the money to retire. I’m sure she’s in pain. I don’t really want to get her fired. I just want her to treat Lucky with respect.”
“Maybe Curtis should take that library money, give it to the old lady, and spare a lot of kids future emotional scarring in the process.”
Leo met his eye, a smile playing around his lips, and he said, “That’s not exactly how Curtis works. This way he gets to flaunt it in the press, make something of it all.” He flipped the pancakes and put them on the waiting plate, handing them to Grant. “Go ahead and eat them while they’re hot. I shouldn’t have any anyway. I have to watch my phosphorus intake.”
Grant poured syrup on the pancakes, watching Leo make more. He took a bite and said, “Not bad.”
Leo laughed again. “They’re amazing. I can tell by the look on your face.”
Grant dug into the pancakes feeling mixed up. He was confused by some of Leo’s expressions, the way he’d seemed after Mrs. Franklin’s phone call and the fact that he wasn’t meeting Grant’s eye.
“What?” Leo asked, glancing up from his work. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just wondering why you doubt yourself. Seems pretty stupid for someone so smart.”
Leo smiled and said, “Sorry, I’m having trouble parsing the compliment from the insult. Give me a minute.”
Grant finished the pancakes and started on the one that Leo had just finished up. Leo began a new batch, keeping his eyes averted as he said, “Curtis really hated it when I did that kind of thing. He hated when I used his money or influence, whatever you want to call it, to get what I wanted. He said I was using him. And maybe I am. But when it comes to Lucky…”
“When it comes to Lucky, what does it matter?”
“Exactly. It’s not like I used his name or money for myself. Now or in the past.” The defensiveness in his tone made it clear that this had been a bone of contention many times. Leo waved his hand. “You know, forget it. I just wasn’t expecting you to applaud me.”
“When it comes to your kid, I’d expect you to do whatever it takes. It’s something I admire. Require even.”
“Require?”
“I already told you that I like ’em pretty.” Grant said, standing up, approaching Leo, and taking hold of his chin. “But I also like ’em strong. It was one of the first things I noticed about you. No one can dispute how strong you are.”
Leo kissed him fast and hard. Leo’s mouth was greedy, and Grant groaned as Leo pulled his hair. Pushing Leo back against the counter, Grant nipped and licked, only the smell of burning pancakes made him pull away. Grant grabbed the potholder, jerked the frying pan from the stove, and dropped it with a clatter into the sink. Leo turned the burner off and met Grant’s mouth again. The short distance to his bedroom was traversed with
many stops against the wall, and bumps into corners and doorframes, and by the time they fell onto the unmade bed, still rumpled from Grant’s sleepless night, they had their shirts off and pants undone.
Leo panted, clawing at Grant’s back, seeming to want him closer than physically possible. Grant bit down on Leo’s shoulder, making a mark, and Leo jerked underneath him, gasping and moaning, and then he started pulling at Grant’s pants, trying to get them off.
“Oh, God,” Leo muttered. “It’s been…it’s been a really long time,” he said his breath coming fast and rough. “I’m not sure how long—God, Grant,” and he was back, kissing Grant, moaning, and grasping him so hard that Grant had a hard time catching his breath.
Grant’s hips ground down against Leo’s, and he finally broke free enough to push his own pants down, and to get Leo’s jeans over his hips. By then Leo had grabbed him back again, pulling him down, mouthing hot, wet lines up his neck and making soft noises of want and need.
When Grant ducked his head down and kissed behind Leo’s ear, he was treated to a whimper, and when he bit down again on Leo’s neck, making sure it was hard enough to leave another mark, Leo grunted, deep and resonant. He grasped Grant’s hair and held him to his neck as Grant bit down again.
Leo whimpered when Grant pulled back to kick his pants off, and to jerk Leo’s down all the way, too, throwing both pairs over the side of the bed. Leo’s cock was big, thick, and incredibly hard. His body was beautiful—marred only by the transplant scar on his chest and the AV fistula in his forearm. Grant swallowed hard, surprised he hadn’t noticed it before, remembering how Leo had declined to remove his shirt the night before. He wondered if this was part of the reason why.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Leo said, lifting his arm up, looking at the place where they put the needle in three times a week. “It’s not pretty, though.”
