by Carol Lynne
Lucky reached for Dray’s zipper and slowly began to lower it. “I want to suck you.” He licked Dray’s left pec, running the flat of his tongue across the empty patch of skin. “I wanna taste your cum in my mouth.”
Hell yeah. Dray lifted his hips when Lucky tugged on the soft denim waistband. His plan to force fun on Lucky went out of the fucking window for the moment.
Lucky pushed the coffee table back before sliding off the couch. “This”—he ran his tongue over the crown of Dray’s erection—“is the only thing that got me through the day.”
Holding his cock by the base, Dray painted Lucky’s lips with pre-cum. “Me, too,” he agreed, loving the way his slick desire made Lucky’s lips glisten. It wasn’t the entire truth, but he knew it was what Lucky needed to hear. For him, sex with Lucky was a product of simply being around him. He didn’t spend time with Lucky just to get him into bed. Although sex with Lucky was better than anything he’d ever had, he’d found it soothing that he could let his guard down around him. He’d built a fortress around his heart after the Vince fiasco, and he welcomed the chipping of the stone Lucky accomplished each time they were together.
Lucky sucked Dray’s length into his mouth and for the next several minutes, Dray could think of nothing but the warmth that surrounded him. Lucky backed off and kissed his way down Dray’s dick to his balls.
“Fuck,” Dray groaned when Lucky began sucking on his sac. He allowed Lucky time to play and tease him, but eventually, Dray’s body demanded more. He gently pushed Lucky away from his balls before guiding his dick back to Lucky’s mouth. “Suck it.”
Lucky grinned before wrapping his lips around Dray’s length.
“Suck me deeper,” Dray growled, thrusting up into Lucky’s mouth. The contractions of Lucky’s throat as he gagged sent a shiver up Dray’s spine. The squeeze to his cock nearly sent him over the edge. “Fuck, yeah.”
Lucky looked up at Dray and nodded, silently asking for more.
Dray gave it to him. He held Lucky’s head still and began to fuck in and out, feeding a bit more down Lucky’s throat with each thrust. Lucky gagged several more times, but eventually took Dray’s length like a pro. “Fuck! I can’t…” he panted. His entire body vibrated as he fought like hell to hold on, but it was a losing battle. “I’m coming.” The first volley of cum shot from his dick with so much force, Lucky had to back off. Dray watched as he filled Lucky’s mouth with his seed. He groaned when a small amount of cum escaped Lucky’s lips and dripped down his chin.
Lucky pulled back and wiped a hand over his chin, a wide grin on his swollen lips. “That was intense.”
Dray ran his hand up and down his chest several times as he studied Lucky. “Stand up,” he ordered, wanting to give Lucky the same attention he’d just received.
It wasn’t until Lucky stood that Dray noticed the cum splattered on Lucky’s stomach and chest. “Fuck.” Dray ran his fingers through the milky-white fluid. He glanced up at Lucky. “You enjoyed that more than I thought.”
“I love touching you,” Lucky confessed, looking embarrassed.
Dray licked a path through a strand of seed and groaned as Lucky’s taste exploded on his tongue. He greedily cleaned Lucky’s skin until there was nothing left. “Best. Dinner. Ever,” he proclaimed.
* * * *
After a quick shower, Lucky entered the living room to find Dray sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the couch. On the coffee table in front of him sat a game that brought tears to Lucky’s eyes. “That’s…” He swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried again to get the words out. “That’s Rock ’em Sock ’em Robot.”
“Yeah.” Dray continued to fiddle with setting up the childish game. “I thought maybe you could take your frustrations out on this since you won’t be fighting for the next few weeks.” He secured the red robot’s head into place.
Lucky dropped down on the opposite side of the table. “I remember seeing these in the store when I was younger.” His gaze flicked to Dray. “I don’t know how to play though.”
“It’s not hard. Just follow my lead.” Dray grabbed the plastic controller and placed his thumbs on the buttons. “You just try to knock my head off,” he said as he started pushing the buttons in succession. Within moments, the blue head of Lucky’s robot popped up. “Get it?”
Lucky nodded and mimicked Dray’s hand position. He chuckled as the excitement shot through him. “When I was in school, I heard kids talking about this game, but I never thought I’d actually get to play it.”
“On the count of three. Ready?” Dray asked, grinning.
“Yeah.” Lucky’s heart beat faster as he waited. The second he heard the word three, he came out swinging, working his thumbs as fast as he could. It was over too quickly when both heads sprang up.
“That’s it?” Dray stared at the bobbing heads. “I thought it’d be a lot more fun.”
Lucky agreed, but he didn’t want to say that. The fact Dray had purchased the game meant more than the game ever would. As far back as he could remember, he’d never been given a toy as a gift. “Probably is to six or seven-year-olds.”
Dray crossed his arms over his bare chest and shook his head. “That sucks.” He got to his feet and went to the sacks beside the TV that Lucky hadn’t noticed yet. Carrying one of the bags to the sofa, Dray sat back down. “Let’s see, we have Battleship, a deck of cards, Super Elastic Bubble Plastic or Silly String.” He looked up and waggled his eyebrows. “And a shitload of candy.” He dumped the sack on the floor. “Take your pick.”
“The bubble thing first,” Lucky answered, getting excited all over again. He reached for a can of Silly String. “I’m gonna take this to the gym with me tomorrow and sneak up on Jax when he’s in the laundry room.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see his face.”
Dray held up two packages. “Which color do you want? I’ve got purple or red.”
“Purple,” Lucky replied, reaching for it. He turned the package over and stared at the illustrated directions before ripping it open. Following the instructions, he squeezed a glob of black-looking goo onto the end of the short straw and blew as hard as he could. The goo shot off his straw and landed on Dray’s upper chest. “Oops.”
With a shake of his head, Dray smiled and picked the glob off his skin. “I don’t think you’re supposed to blow that hard.”
“Give me a break. I’ve never done this before,” Lucky shot back, adding more goo to the end of his straw. His second attempt was better, but the bubble barely reached the size of a dime before it popped and deflated.
Dray made a noise, and Lucky looked up to see a bubble the size of a plum at the end of Dray’s straw.
“You suck.” Lucky returned his attention to his own straw. He may have to go through the entire tube, but he was going to fucking make a goddamn bubble if it killed him.
“On occasion,” Dray replied. He eased the bubble off his straw and sealed it before setting it on the table.
Show off. Lucky eyed the bubble. He gestured to the sack still next to the TV. “What else did ya get?”
“Just stupid movies out of the clearance bin. Comedies. I thought we could use some mindless fun in the next week or so.” Dray loaded another blob to his straw.
Lucky concentrated on his own bubble creation. He blew a steady stream of air into the straw and as his bubble expanded, he began to tap his free hand against the table to get Dray’s attention. When he looked up, he realized he hadn’t needed the thumping. Dray was staring straight at him. Not the bubble at the end of his straw, but him. Deciding not to press his luck, Lucky stopped blowing when his creation was a tad larger than Dray’s. He eased it off the plastic tube and carefully sealed it. “There,” he said with a hint of arrogance.
Dray clapped his hands three times. “You’re the champ.”
“Yes I am.” Lucky got to his feet and danced back and forth from foot to foot with his arms raised in the air.
“If you get cocky, we’ll en
d up spending the rest of the night seeing who can outdo the other,” Dray said. He smiled. “But I do love to see you in a good mood, so losing’s worth it.”
“Okay, so if we played Battleship next and I plastered a smile on my face the whole time, you’d let me win?” Lucky asked.
“I didn’t say that. I just said it’s worth losing to see you happy.”
Lucky’s smile fell as he felt the emotion behind Dray’s statement. He dropped the straw to the table and moved around to stand beside Dray. Holding out his hand, he waited for Dray to take the offered gesture. Neither of them talked about their feelings, but he realized that everything Dray had done that evening was proclaiming the way he felt, loud and clear. The pizza, the candy, the games and the movies were meant to convey what Dray couldn’t say, and Lucky had finally heard him. “Come to bed with me.”
Dray looked toward the ceiling. “I should check on Brick first.” He took Lucky’s offered hand and got to his feet. “You wanna come?”
Lucky nodded. The more he saw Brick in his weakened condition, the more real the predicted outcome became. The first time he’d watched Brick bring the oxygen mask to his face when he thought Lucky wasn’t in the room had been gut-wrenching. Dray had tried to tell him Brick was sicker than he was pretending, but Lucky hadn’t believed it. In that moment, however, when he’d watched Brick desperately struggle to draw in a full breath, he’d known the truth. His time with the man who had given him the only parental love he’d ever known was leaving him.
Chapter Nine
“This is getting old!” Jax wailed.
Lucky was still laughing as he dropped the empty can of Silly String in the trashcan. It was the third time in a week and a half that he’d managed to sneak up on Jax for an attack. “Hang on,” he told Jax. “Let me get a picture of you.” He withdrew his phone, but Jax charged toward him.
“Don’t you dare!” Jax yelled, trying to get to Lucky’s phone.
“Nope.” Lucky easily evaded the sixteen year old.
Covered from head to toe in bright pink strands of foam, Jax gave up and began to pull the shit out of his hair. “I hope you know you’re cleaning up this mess,” Jax pouted, as Lucky took several pictures.
“I’ll clean it up. I always do.” Lucky would never forget the look of surprise on Jax’s face the first time he’d snuck into the laundry room and hit him with the initial blast of the pink string. At first he’d thought Jax was pissed, but soon they were both laughing their asses off as Jax had tried to use one of the towels as a shield.
“Hey, Lucky,” Flint called from the doorway.
“You gotta see these,” Lucky said, holding up his phone.
Flint smiled at the photos as Lucky scrolled through. “There’s a woman here to see you. Says she’s your mother.”
Lucky’s entire mood changed from one breath to the next. No. No. No. He wanted to scream to the world that he wasn’t ready to deal with his mom’s typical bullshit. Not yet. Not now. He thought briefly about sneaking out of the back door of the gym, but he knew if she wanted something from him, she wouldn’t stop until she got it. “Where is she?”
“Standing by the front door.” Flint wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “You want me to tell her you left?”
Lucky shook his head. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wouldn’t taint The Brick Yard either. “I’ll be at Mac’s if anyone needs me.”
“Are you sure?” Flint asked. “You don’t look so good, man.”
“She won’t leave until she gets what she’s come for.” Lucky pulled out his wallet and checked to see how much money he had. Not much, but he’d give her all of it if she’d go away. He glanced back at Jax who was still picking pink strands off his shirt. “Sorry, but it might be a while before I can clean this up.”
Jax bit his bottom lip and looked around. “Don’t worry. I’ll do it.”
Lucky turned to leave the room, but Jax stopped him.
“You want me to come with you?” Jax asked.
Lucky wanted to say yes because nothing good ever happened when he was alone with his mom, but he couldn’t drag Jax into his bullshit. He walked back over and gave Jax’s forehead a quick peck. “Thanks, but I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
Lucky spotted his mom from across the gym. It never ceased to amaze him how small she actually was now that he was grown. As a kid, the sight of her looming over him with anger in her eyes had scared the shit out of him. Dray spoke of demons and monsters, but it was his own mother’s face that haunted Lucky’s nightmares.
The closer he got to his mom, the more different she looked. She seemed to hold herself straighter and her eyes appeared normal. Her fiery red hair was clean and pulled back into a ponytail.
“Mom,” Lucky said once he was close enough. He still wasn’t sure why he bothered calling the woman Mom since she’d never been a real mother, but calling her by her given name of Alana seemed wrong as well.
“I wanted to come by and let you know I’m out and to apologize for not seeing you when you came to visit. I’ve been working a program, and I wanted to make sure I could stay clean before I saw you again,” Alana said. She took a step toward Lucky and lifted her palm to his face. “What have you done to yourself?”
Lucky pulled his head back, breaking the connection between them. “Are you hungry?”
Alana nodded.
Lucky opened the door of the gym and gestured for his mom to turn left. They walked to Mac’s in silence. Once they were seated in his regular booth, he felt more at ease. He hadn’t been in Mac’s since the argument, but at that moment, he needed the comfort of the diner more than he needed to hold onto the anger he felt toward its owner. “Order whatever you want.”
Alana began to scan the menu. “I’m staying at a halfway house. Hopefully, I’ll be able to make the transition this time without slipping back into my old ways.”
“That’s good, Mom.” Lucky sat with his back against the wall, thrumming his fingers against the table.
Connie, one of the lunch-hour waitresses stopped at the table. “Hey, Lucky.” She glanced up from her tablet. “Wow. I take it you finally lost a fight?”
Lucky didn’t bother answering the question. “I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger, fries and a Coke.”
“Really?” Trish’s jaw dropped. “I’ve never known you to order anything off the menu.”
Lucky shrugged. “Trying something different.” He didn’t tell her that after the fight he’d had with Mac, he doubted the owner would want to cook him his usual meal of steak and grilled vegetables.
Connie looked to Alana. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the hot beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and a glass of water,” Alana said before placing her menu back against the wall.
After Connie had left, Alana started talking again. “Anyway, I’ll be at the halfway house for another two months. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get a job and find another apartment.”
Lucky continued to nod his head, but he looked everywhere except at his mom. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she would stay clean for a change, he simply found he didn’t care. No, that wasn’t completely true. The more Alana talked about making a new life for herself, the angrier he became.
A plate landed in front of him with a clatter.
Lucky gaze shot up to see Mac’s scowling face.
“What the fuck’re you doing eating that shit?” Mac asked.
“You made it. You calling your own food shit?” Lucky asked. Even to himself he sounded like a smartass teenager.
Mac leaned against the table and put his face a few inches from Lucky’s. “You know what I’m talking about,” he growled.
Lucky flicked his fingers toward Alana. “Mac, I’d like you to meet Alana Gunn, my mom. Mom, this is Mac, the man who made sure I didn’t go to bed hungry when there was nothing in our house to eat because you’d bartered the food stamps for booze and drugs.” He said it in a rush before pus
hing Mac out of his way. He dug into his wallet and pulled out every bill he had and tossed them on the table. “Take the cost of the meal out of it and keep the rest,” he told his mom.
Lucky had just made it outside when a large hand clamped onto his shoulder. He spun around to find Mac staring at him. “I’m not in the mood, Mac.”
“Yeah, I figured that out all on my own.” Mac released his hold on Lucky. “Does your mood have something to do with your mom showing up?”
Lucky rolled his eyes. “What do you think? She’s going on and on about being clean and how her life is going to be so much different now. Hell, she even said something about getting a fucking job that didn’t involve her spreading her legs or dealing dope to school kids.” His throat started to tighten but he forced the anguish down. His mom didn’t deserve his tears.
Mac’s expression softened. “I think the best thing you can do is to wish her well and send her on her way.”
“Yeah.” Lucky looked through the window to see Alana calmly eating her lunch. “I want to hate her.”
“Of course you do.” Mac waved Lucky to the side of the building. “I think it’s time we talked about a few things.”
“Don’t you need to cook?” The last thing Lucky wanted was another talk with Mac. The last one had nearly destroyed him.
Mac continued to walk until they reached the back of the diner. He motioned for Lucky to have a seat on one of the old milk crates as he sat on another. Forearms resting on his knees, Mac leaned forward and stared at the crumbling asphalt under his feet. “I had a son,” he began.
That announcement caught Lucky’s attention. “Had?”
Mac nodded. “I was a shitty father—too young, I suppose. I didn’t marry his mom because the thought of being tied down didn’t appeal to me.” He took off the white knit hat he always wore and crumpled it in his hands. “I saw Jake from time to time, nothing that he could count on, mind ya, but I was around.” He glanced up and met Lucky’s gaze. “He joined a gang when he was thirteen. His mom tried to tell me that it was my responsibility to set him straight, but I was too busy fucking up my own life to give him advice. I figured he’d grow out of the thug way of life eventually, but he didn’t make it that far. He was killed in a drive-by a month before his fifteenth birthday.”
