On the Streets of New Orleans (17 page)

This time, Charlie couldn’t deny it or come up with any excuses. Devon wouldn’t let him. Devon really and truly wanted him… and for more than fucking.

Maybe Devon saw something good in Charlie he couldn’t see for himself?

Maybe if there was a speck of good in him, just maybe, others might see it too?

Like his parents?

Devon kissed him. “Stop thinking. I want you. You want me. It’s that simple.”

“Yes. Simple.” Charlie laughed. “Turn off my brain. Right.”

Devon leaned down, grabbed Charlie’s cock, and swallowed it down. Charlie groaned, arched into the bed, and clutched at the sheets.

What had he been saying? He couldn’t remember. Okay, he’d discovered the secret to stop thinking….

STUNNED, CHARLIE
watched as Devon rolled over onto his stomach, offering his ass to Charlie.

He nearly strangled on his own spit, the sight was so beautiful.

Devon pushed the lube and condom toward him. “Go on. Get us ready.”

“Okay.” Charlie didn’t know what else to say, except maybe thank you. His cock was hard and throbbing, and Devon’s ass was tight and firm and—

Devon shifted, bent his knee, and a flash of pink pucker stopped Charlie in his tracks, wrapped condom in his hand. “Damn, Dev, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Devon chuckled. “You’re getting a view not many have had, Charlie. Enjoy it.” He slapped his ass cheek, then pulled one side apart. “Like it?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? I need you, babe.”

Charlie ripped the condom open and slid it down over his cock. Just the touch of his own hand had him nearly whimpering, and he had to avert his gaze from Dev’s invitation. Once he had the condom on, he took a deep breath to calm himself, then picked up the lube.

Touching Dev—
there
—almost made him blow his load at the thought. But if this was going to happen, he had to do it. He flipped the lid, squirted some lube onto his fingers, and then ran them over Dev’s hole.

The damn thing clenched as Dev groaned. “Damn, babe.” He shuddered, and his reaction emboldened Charlie.

Charlie worked around the tight hole, then, using one finger, he pushed in, met a ring of muscles, and forced his way through it. Dev’s ass pulled his finger deeper, and it was Charlie groaning over the sensation of Devon’s body surrounding his finger.

Devon panted, head buried in his arm.

“Are you okay?” Charlie didn’t want to hurt Devon.

“Fine. Keep going.” Dev’s voice dropped into a deeper register, making Charlie’s belly flutter and his nuts draw up.

He nodded and continued. Charlie pulled his finger out and then pushed back in, repeating until the movement felt less invasive, until there was less resistance. He added a second finger and worked Devon’s hole again until it loosened.

“Enough, babe. Do it. Now.” Devon’s pleading hit Charlie hard in the chest.

Charlie pulled out and added more slick to his fingers, then covered the condom with a layer. Once done, he leaned forward, touched his cockhead to Devon’s hole, and grabbed his lover by the hips.

As Devon’s muscles resisted his entry, Charlie closed his eyes and breathed slowly to keep calm. He’d be ashamed if he’d lost his load now, before he’d even made it inside.

He pushed again, breached the tight ring, and slipped inside.

Devon groaned and pushed back. “Give it to me.”

Charlie didn’t need much more encouragement. He sank all the way in, the heat of Devon’s body surrounding his cock, the tightness holding him in place, capturing him deep inside his lover.

“God, Dev. Oh fuck. It’s so good.” Charlie bit his lip to keep from crying out, from yelling more and embarrassing himself.

“Me too. Fuck me hard, babe. I want to feel you; want to remember tomorrow how you rode me tonight.”

Charlie couldn’t keep his control. He pulled out and thrust in, speeding up with each entering. He clutched Devon’s hips, as he slammed into Devon’s ass and mastered Devon.

He’d own Devon by the time he was finished.

All the self-sacrifice, the self-denial, the years of never touching another man like this, all burst from Charlie and flowed into Devon through his lovemaking.

Sweat dripped from Charlie’s brow, and his hands slipped on Dev’s damp skin. He moved his grip to Dev’s shoulders and leaned closer to his body, riding his back. Plastering his chest to Dev, their slick skin slid back and forth, adding to the friction.

Devon’s breath sounded harsh, but Charlie couldn’t see if he was in distress.

“You okay?”

“Fucking fine. This is so good, babe. So good. I’d forgotten how good it could be with the right person.”

Well, didn’t that make Charlie’s cock swell? He wouldn’t last much longer, but he wanted Devon to come. He raised up and had to stop so he could adjust Devon to how he wanted him. When he pulled out, Devon cursed.

“Hold on, Dev.”

He got Devon on his knees, pushed his legs apart so he could fit between them, then buried his cock in that tight heaven again.

“Yeesss!” Devon shuddered. “Fuck me. Make me come.”

Charlie knew he could do this—make Devon crazy and make him explode. But he’d need to remember all the tricks he used to know so well.

He angled his cock and raked over Devon’s prostate. Devon yelped and swore. He did it again, and Devon begged for more. Charlie grinned, then leaned down, reached around Devon, and grabbed his stiff cock.

Devon had leaked so much precum, the head and shaft were damp with it. Charlie scraped more from Devon’s cockhead and rubbed it all over his shaft.

“Jack me. Jack me. Hard, babe.” Devon sounded nearly incoherent, and it drove Charlie wild how he could do that to such a badass as Devon.

Charlie ran his hand up the hard, yet so soft, shaft, up over the head and back down, each pass squeezing tighter than the last one, as if he could push the orgasm out of Devon.

With no more than a few strokes, he had Devon coming. He fucking whimpered, and that just set Charlie off. He came, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling at the top of his lungs because it just felt that damn good.

They collapsed on Devon’s bed, Charlie gasping for breath, and Devon giving a soft groan as he rolled over.

“Man, that was fucking intense.” Devon wiped his brow and then slapped Charlie’s belly. “I’d let you do that again, babe. Any time.”

Charlie laughed. “You’d let me, huh?” He glanced over at Devon and snorted.

Devon rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I think I just did.” Charlie pointed at Devon’s spent dick.

“Babe, you got the best of my cock, for sure.”

For a few moments, the two lay there, just breathing and relaxing. To Charlie it seemed strange, yet comfortable. Perhaps more comfortable than it should be, and that brought his brain around to how this was not what he deserved. This small moment of happiness.

But damn, if he couldn’t get used to it.

DEVON’S CELL
phone buzzed. “Fuck.” He sighed and sat up. “I need to get that.” He found it among his clothes. “Hey.”

Charlie listened, but he could only hear a man’s voice, not the words.

“Tonight? You sure?” Devon ran a hand over his face. “I’ll be there.” He snapped the phone shut.

Charlie didn’t need to be told. “I’ve got to go anyway. The shelter closes at ten.” He got up and searched for his clothes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I wish we could have more time.” Devon danced up and down getting into his jeans, then pulled on a black T-shirt.

“Me too.” Charlie gave him a quick smile, hoping it would hide his disappointment. He understood about work, but what did Devon do that would pull him out at this time of night? He just didn’t want to ask, afraid of the answer and the argument it might start.

Despite Devon’s promises, Charlie feared he really was involved with drugs. How deep could Charlie go without getting hurt or maybe even destroying his life? It would have been so easy for Devon to offer drugs along with the sex, and what Charlie feared most was not being able to refuse.

That he’d lose so much control, his willpower, that he’d try it again. Just one more time. And he knew if he ever did another line of coke, he’d never find his way out of that bottomless pit.

“What’s wrong?” Devon came over and ran his hand over Charlie’s back.

“Nothing.” Charlie shrugged. Devon must have seen Charlie tense up around his thoughts. “Just”—he glanced up—“would’ve liked more time with you, that’s all.”

Devon grinned. “I’ll make it up to you, babe. Swear.”

“Looking forward to it.” Charlie smiled back, knowing he’d avoided that landmine with Devon. “Give me a ride back to the shelter?”

“Of course.”

They finished dressing and left. The car ride was quiet. Devon seemed preoccupied, and Charlie didn’t want to risk saying a word that might start a fight.

Devon pulled the car up to the front of the shelter. It was almost ten, and the guys were all standing around, getting their last smokes in. Charlie gave Devon a quick nod and got out.

“I’ll call you later.” Devon waved and drove off.

“Hey. Y’all are going to have to clean up this mess. Last time I did this, I got robbed.” Charlie gave them a hard stare, and they all nodded. One of the men went inside, then came out with a couple of brooms and a dust pan.

Charlie leaned against the railing of the porch and watched them work, but he couldn’t help but glance out into the night and wonder what Devon was up to and if it was legal.

DEVON TURNED
the corner and spotted Jingo slouched against the wall of the warehouse. He slowed down, then pulled the car over to the curb. Jingo flicked his cigarette away and got in without saying a word or even giving him a nod of recognition.

“You’re sure it’s going down tonight?” Devon drove off.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Been watching the place and followed a couple of the guys. They went to lunch, and I got in line at Parkway with them. The big honcho from Mexico is stopping in tonight to check out the operation.” Jingo tapped a steady rhythm on the door with his fingers.

“Okay. We’ll get the bastard tonight.” Devon headed down Carrolton Avenue toward City Park, turning at Beauregard Circle to drive through the park. When they reached the old tennis courts, he pulled over. They wouldn’t have much time before a cop cruiser came by, so Devon would have to make it fast.

He got out and pulled out his cell phone. He’d just hit the number and put the phone to his ear when someone stuck something hard and cold in his ribs.

“What the fuck?” Devon tried to turn around, but the gun just dug deeper.

“You’re a cop. A fucking cop. Did you think you could fool me? I been smelling pigs like you all my life.” Jingo’s hatred came through loud and clear.

Devon’s mind flashed on a hundred scenarios. All of them played out in a blink of an eye and all of them ended the same way.

With Devon dead.

“Look, man, I’m offering you a chance to change. Make a difference. Rebuild this city.” Devon had to keep Jingo talking. He was pretty sure his contact on the other end of the line was listening. At least he prayed he was. “If you kill me, you’ll just be another punk… another drug dealer.”

“What’s so bad with that? I can make a lot of green with the Mexicans.”

“The Mexicans? Man, you don’t want to get mixed up with them. Trust me.”

“Trust you? That’s what I did, boss. Fuck trusting you. The pay sucks.” Jingo waved his hand, and the gun moved away from Devon’s back.

Devon spun and swung, landing a hard hit to the side of Jingo’s head, but he didn’t drop the gun. So Devon ran for it, straight into the trees, deep into the park, hoping Jingo couldn’t see him.

The report from the gun echoed in the night, and half a second later, the impact knocked Devon face-forward into the dirt and leaves. Intense pain shot up his leg and the urge to cry out bubbled up in his throat, but he knew his best chance was in keeping quiet.

Jingo stood at the car, gun in his hand, trying to see through the darkness.

Devon lay still, like a fawn in the bushes, knowing any movement meant death. His leg bled, warm, sticky fluid spilling from him onto the cold ground. The pain rose and retreated in tides, each time threatening him with unconsciousness.

It would be easy to give in, close his eyes, but he’d never see Charlie again.

Devon dragged the phone to his ear; somehow, he still clutched it. “Officer down,” he whispered. It was his only chance. “Code 108. City Park. Tennis courts. Officer down.”

Then he relaxed, staring up through the huge branches of the oak trees to the dim stars overhead. The earth beneath him grew damp with his blood.

The car started; he recognized it as it drove off.

Jingo was gone.

Devon wondered if the Mexican boss was really in town or had this all been a trap. He’d been so wrong about Jingo. When had they gotten to him? How long had he been on their payroll? How had he missed seeing Jingo’s true nature? He’d really fucked that up. Devon’s bosses would never let him live that screw-up down. If he lived.

Devon slipped in and out of the tree limbs and stars.

He wondered if he’d ever see Charlie again.

He wondered why it’d taken him so long to realize he was in love with Charlie.

SOMEONE WAS
banging on the door to the shelter.

“Fuck.” Charlie pulled on a T-shirt. He left his room and padded barefoot to the door. “This better be good.”

He opened it to cops on the other side.

“Whoa. What’s going on?” He’d never had cops come to the shelter before. Ever. Must be looking for someone, but for the life of him, Charlie couldn’t think of which man it could be.

“Are you Charlie MacAfee?” The bigger cop didn’t look happy. A patrol car was parked at the curb behind the two officers. No lights. No siren.

“Yes.” Charlie had no idea why they’d want him, but a shiver of cold ran down his spine, and it wasn’t from the temperature. He almost said, “I’ve been clean and sober for years, officer,” when the shorter cop stepped forward.