Lucifer’s Boys, Book 2
Lorenzo stood with care as he adjusted to the weight of his once-again mortal body. Goose bumps stood out on his bare arms. He felt cold. Mortal cold. Not the deep emptiness of the crypt that sat in front of him. He swore and rubbed his arms. Then he looked up into the night and yelled, “Fuck you! How many times do I have to tell you no?”
“I left a jacket for you.” The voice was deep, melodic, and unperturbed by his scream.
Lorenzo grabbed the jacket off his stark stone prison. Freezing to death would be pointless since he wasn’t being allowed to die. He yanked it on, noticing it smelled of expensive leather. His legs felt relatively warm, and he looked down to see they were clad in tight-fitting blue cloth. The heavy leather boots on his feet were less elegant than he would have chosen, but they were warm.
The deep voice had come from above, but He wouldn’t be lurking in the trees. Lorenzo turned. Other than the trees, there was only one place in Tolomato Cemetery where He could be. A dark angel looked down on him from the bishop’s mortuary chapel. No angel statue adorned the stark roof of the chapel.
The figure winked. “Welcome back.” Wings spread, lifting the angel off the roof and settling him softly on the ground.
“That’s not one of the offers available. Though I’m pleased to hear your vocabulary is staying with the times. Do you still flit about as a shade between our meetings? Really, Lorenzo. Haunting the city? I never expected to see you fall so.”
“These awakenings only remind me of my sins.” He crossed his arms and sat on the flat top of his tomb. “I’ll remain here until you return me to my grave.” He’d made the threat before and failed to keep it. Death was lonely, and he longed for the warm touch of a companion—a lover. And He always made sure Lorenzo was supplied with enough money to find one. Or to buy one.
“Still not even thinking my name? Others seem to be so pleased when I invite them to call me Luc. You make this more difficult than it needs to be. I’m offering you a job.”
“I’m particular about who I work for.”
“The alternatives aren’t any more pleasant. However, I’ll put that aside for a time. It’s almost Halloween, and I’m hosting a very exclusive party in town. I do hope you’ll attend.”
“Go away.” He wouldn’t attend. Not if he had any choice.
“Don’t be petulant.”
He closed his eyes, determined to remain on his tomb if he wasn’t allowed to remain in it. A warm arm draped around his shoulders. “You have freedom of the city, Lorenzo. Clothes, money. I’ve assigned a personal demon to take care of your needs. You’ll find Tribal most resourceful. Men have gambled their souls for his attention.”
“Met him once,” Lorenzo said, without opening his eyes. “I’d already lost my soul, but I don’t think he was disappointed.” The oversexed imp had relieved some of his loneliness, but a demon was a poor substitute for a human lover.
“We’ll talk in a few days. Do get out and enjoy yourself.”
He heard the flutter of feathers and opened his eyes to watch dark wings fade into the night. People may have noticed, but they were used to strange happenings. St. Augustine had been haunted since its founding. Lorenzo knew that. After all, he was one of its many ghosts. Except when Lucifer himself dropped in to revive him.
* * * *
Tribal sat cross-legged on the floor of the bar at the Casa Iberia Hotel playing a game on his iPhone. He heard footfalls followed by a light sigh. He killed another zombie and waited. Only one being could make a sigh sound like a music note. There was still too much angel left in Darius.
“Would you get up? There are plenty of chairs, and you’re attracting attention.”
He didn’t look up from his game. “I like attention, and you haven’t even told me you’re happy to see me.”
“I’m pleased to see you. Now, would you get off the floor?”
“I’m waiting for my Master.” He glanced up at Darius who wore his long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and still fucking glowed. Living with Franco hadn’t dimmed his aura one bit. It just wasn’t fair. The men he could tempt if he still glowed like that.
“This is a respectable hotel,” Darius said. “Not a gay bar.”
“You could use my name and command me.” He gave Darius an inviting smile. “You could command me to do lots of things. I’d like it.”
Darius sighed again. “Marcus…” Tribal waited. Nah, he wouldn’t, would he? “Luc would expect you to behave in an appropriate manner.”
He sighed, echoing Darius. “So close, dude. So close. But too late now.” He felt the energy shift in the hotel, and a shadow fell across his part of the bar. His Master had arrived.
“Darius, my boy, you’re looking well. Franco suits you.” Tribal shivered at the deep voice above his head. Now that was a voice that could command. “A shot of Glenfiddich would suit me right about now. Marcus, get off the floor.”
“Yes, Master.” He slithered onto a hassock that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
The dark figure took a seat on one of the tall chairs, and Darius moved further down the bar to fetch his order. Their corner remained empty. People didn’t approach his Master unless they had business with him. When Darius returned with the scotch, He took the drink from Darius’s hand and dismissed him with a nod.
Tribal edged closer. His Master wore his dark hair back in a ponytail, much like Darius, and the air shimmered with the aura of his wings. He focused his attention on Tribal. “It seems Lorenzo believes he can resist your temptations.”
“Yeah.” Tribal stretched to show off the pierced nipples under his thin T-shirt. Darius would have fussed even more if he’d shown up shirtless. “He said that last time, but he didn’t try too hard.”
“Convince Lorenzo to agree to my terms.”
The voice held a tightness that made Tribal look up. His Master was … he searched for a word … frustrated? And he was being asked to help. He straightened with pride. “I’ll find something he can’t resist. Worked with Franco.” He’d used a naďve Darius to lure Franco to his Master’s service. Lorenzo shouldn’t be much of a challenge.
His Master took a sip of his drink. “I don’t have a spare fallen angel lying around this time.”
“Nah, Lorenzo isn’t into angels. I’ve got someone in mind, but I need to be able to come and go in the city.”
“You have leave. Whatever you need will be provided.”
“I’m gonna need to use a human.”
His Master frowned. “Endangering one soul to claim another?”
He shrugged. “Dude’s sliding into trouble already. It’s a two-for-the-price-of-one deal.”
“You have leave to do what you will until Halloween.”
“Cool. This town better be ready for a little Tribal action.”
His Master sat his glass on the bar and vanished. No one noticed. Darius appeared to collect the empty glass. He paused for a moment, then leaned against the bar, looking a little more relaxed. “Can I treat you to a rum and Coke?”
“Dude, you remembered. Hey, I’m gonna need a place for a friend to stay. Got room at the inn?”
* * * *
Tom stopped on the street a few yards from the Tolomato Cemetery. A tour group filled the space in front of the gates so completely he doubted a ghost could have squeezed its way in. The gates were locked, as they always were, but the group stuck cameras through the ironwork and clicked away.
Keeping to the far side of the street, he edged closer. He could hear snippets of the tour guide’s story about the ghost boy who sometimes appeared to children and would often roll a ball back if one was rolled inside the gates. He wondered for a moment why the guide hadn’t brought a ball, then realized that the grounds would be littered with balls if every tour did that.
He waited impatiently for the group to move on and hurried across the street to the cemetery. Coming to St. Augustine this close to Halloween meant putting up with more tours than usual, but he hoped that as the night grew later and colder, the tours would thin out. Still this cemetery wasn’t the main focus of his investigation. He just wanted to get a few pictures and take some readings. Sure, there were tales of ghosts associated with it, but there were tales of ghosts everywhere in the town.
He placed the camera on the stone wall that ran below the iron bars of the fence and set his backpack on the sidewalk to dig out his EMF meter.
“Cool equipment, dude.”
Tom nodded at the comment and glanced at the speaker, expecting to see a straggler from the ghost tour. The spiky blue hair and a tight-fitting T-shirt didn’t look like anyone he’d seen on the tour. “Thanks.” The guy seemed underdressed for the chilly night, and the tilt of his hips suggested he was looking for someone to help him warm up. He wasn’t Tom’s type. “I’m afraid I work alone.”
The guy shrugged. “Dude, you don’t even know what to be afraid of.” The moon and stars darkened as a shadow passed overhead.
Tom looked up, but the stars had settled back to their usual twinkling darkness. “What was that?”
Blue hair smiled. “A sign that it’s time for me to get to work. Have a good night ghost hunting.”
Tom shrugged at the strange reply. At least the guy wasn’t upset at being turned down. Rent boys weren’t his thing.
* * * *
Tribal popped into Tolomato Cemetery. Lorenzo sat on the low stone structure of his crypt staring into the distance and trying to look determined. A moment later he shifted his position. Tribal waited. He shifted again. Tribal smiled. Lorenzo was a man of action. A man of passion.
Or he had been, until one of his lovers had proven to be the jealous sort. Tribal had visited the lover in the pits. The man had been full of useful information about Lorenzo. Tribal studied the tall, muscular Spaniard as he shifted on his crypt again. It was a shame he hadn’t had the information the first time he’d met Lorenzo. He’d have made some far more interesting suggestions. He strolled forward, letting his hips sway. “Dude, you look lonely.”
Lorenzo looked his way. “I told Luc I wasn’t interested.”
“Yeah, he mentioned it. I think you hurt his feelings.”
Lorenzo scoffed. “So he sent you to tempt me. Love the hair. Blue suits you. Now go away.”
“Aw, dude. Don’t be that way. Tell you what. Take a stroll to the other side of the ol’ bishop’s chapel and look at what’s waiting outside the gate. Then we’ll talk.”
Lorenzo didn’t move. Tribal waited. Lorenzo shifted on his crypt. He looked toward the bishop’s chapel and shifted again. “I wouldn’t give Him the satisfaction.”
Still angry at the Master when he should have been thankful. If it weren’t for his skill with a sword, he’d have been in the pits long ago. “That’s good, because He isn’t the one I’m trying to arrange some satisfaction for. Come on, dude. You know you want to look.”
Lorenzo crossed and uncrossed his arms. “I suppose you won’t leave until I do.”
“I got no one better to do.”
Lorenzo gave him a sideways look, then stood and made his way to the chapel. Tribal watched from where he was. Lorenzo looked around the corner of the square stone structure and toward the street. His shoulders pulled back, and he stood straighter.
“Good-looking, isn’t he? I found you a dude with muscle. Poor guy needs someone to love. I know you don’t mind disappointing my Master, but are you going to disappoint Tom?”
Tribal strode to join him at the chapel. He’d taken his time choosing this one. Tom stood just outside the gates, fiddling with his equipment and looking cute, in a mildly clumsy way. He’d be equal in height to Lorenzo, and there were some good muscles under that sweatshirt if Lorenzo managed to get him out of it.
“His hair is short.”
“Current fashion,” Tribal said. “But I think he’ll go for a man with a ponytail.”
“Then I hope one comes along.”
“Don’t be like that. Think of Tom and all his unfulfilled dreams.” He leaned against the bishop’s chapel and tried to look as if none of this meant anything to him at all. “I’m just trying to help you out. Look, my Master is going to keep you alive until Halloween. Do you really think he’ll let you spend the time sitting on your tomb? You’re still mortal. Where are you going to get food? Water? Hot dudes?”
“I’m surprised you put that last one in third place.”
“Yeah, kinda shocks me too. Look, why don’t I just pop you out there to chat with the ghost hunter dude? After all, you’re exactly what he’s looking for.”
“I’ve seen ghost hunters before,” Lorenzo said without turning away from his view of Tom.
Tribal smiled. He’d won this round. He’d have to trust Tom to win the next one. “I’ll throw in a romantic ride in a horse-drawn carriage. Tom will like that.”
“Wanna find out?”
* * * *
“You seem to have dropped this.”
Tom paused. This voice was deeper than the rent boy’s had been and held a Spanish accent. He turned. The man standing by the half wall of stone that surrounded the cemetery held his digital recorder in one strong hand. He wasn’t sure how the recorder had fallen out of his backpack, but he took it with a nod of thanks.
The man leaned against the iron bars of the fence and his leather jacket fell open to reveal a T-shirt pulled tight over a muscular chest. A breeze teased at dark hair that fell to caress the man’s broad shoulders. Tom forced his thoughts away from the direction they were heading. “I am called Lorenzo.” The words had a deep, Spanish accent that made Tom’s mouth go dry.
Lorenzo moved from the fence and took a step closer, his hand extended. Tom shook it, surprised at the roughness he felt and the reaction from his own body. Lorenzo had to be a weight lifter to get calluses like that. The type of man he wanted and never managed to attract. He moved even closer as he released Tom’s hand. The EMF meter spiked into the red. The man looked at it with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s supposed to detect potential paranormal energy,” Tom explained. He’d kept the more expensive Mel meter in his bag. People always wanted to touch things.
“Interesting.” Lorenzo took the EMF meter in one of his strong hands. The lights moved up and down the color spectrum from green to yellow and then red. “I have seen things like this before. Ghost hunters use them.”
“That’s right.” Tom itched to take the device back and figure out what it was registering, but he didn’t want to appear rude. Lorenzo seemed to be a local, not a passing tourist. He didn’t want to upset the locals.
“You would get good readings from across the street.” The man pointed. “I have seen groups stop in the parking lot where the old battlements run along the ground.”
Tom looked across to the parking lot. He could see a bulge that could be earth-covered battlements, if the city planted hedges on battlements. He shrugged. In St. Augustine they might; after all every inch of the city was something old. The rest of what he saw in the parking lot wasn’t exactly old. “If you look above the battlements—” he began in his best lecture voice.
“—there are power lines.” The man finished for him. “But power lines are not nearly as much fun to detect as ghosts.” Lorenzo picked up Tom’s camera and handed it to him. “Here comes a tour. We must look scenic and official.”
Scenic? Tom wondered as his companion positioned himself to point the EMF meter through the gate while at the same time exposing a classic Latin profile and a remarkably well-shaped ass to the approaching crowd.
“This is Tolomato Cemetery.” The guide wore an old-fashioned dress and cape, and was young enough to be a student at the university. “The story here is that children often see the ghost of a young boy on the grounds of the cemetery. People have found that if they roll a ball through the gates, some unknown force, perhaps the ghost, will roll it back.”
“Oh, are these ghost hunters?” A woman stepped forward to snap a photo. Not of the cemetery but of Tom’s mysterious companion. And of him.
“Hey, I have an EMF reader too,” a young guy stepped forward waving a plastic device around. Suddenly it veered up into the yellow and red, then down again. “Look, I’m getting a reading.”
“Really?” Lorenzo leaned over to look at the man’s EMF meter, and the lights flashed again.
“A ghost must be nearby.”
“Try the cemetery,” Lorenzo said.
The man turned and stuck the meter through the bars of the fence. Lorenzo leaned over the man’s shoulder, and the device scaled up and down the colors. Others gathered close to watch.
“Definitely haunted,” someone said.
“Mine’s going off too,” another said.
“I’m coming back here after the tour.”
“Will you be here?”
Tom cursed under his breath. Instead of a quiet night at the cemetery, he was drawing a crowd. The question had been directed at him and Lorenzo.
Lorenzo smiled. “Perhaps. We don’t know where the spirit may take us. But you mustn’t miss Huguenot Cemetery. I’ve heard that it has a lot of activity, and you must say hello to the old judge for me. I believe he’s decided to serve an after-life sentence.”
The crowd chuckled. The tour guide shot Lorenzo a grateful look and gathered her group together to move on.
“They’ll be back,” Tom said with a sigh. It wasn’t Lorenzo’s fault. In fact the man had handled the crowd better than he would have. They’d left laughing rather than fussing about the grumpy ghost hunter, which was the response he normally got.
“They are intrigued,” Lorenzo said. “Is this something you do often?”
“Whenever I can. I’m determined to find real evidence that ghosts exist.”
“Are you sure they do?”
“Positive.” He tried not to notice Lorenzo’s accent. Sure Spanish men were utterly hot, but he was here to work. Besides this wasn’t a gay bar, so he had no way of judging Lorenzo’s sexual preference. Not that he often went to gay bars. Not unless one was rumored to be haunted. He took a few pictures of the cemetery, but he could hear the murmur of another tour approaching. No use doing EVPs tonight. Not with all the chatter around. “I might as well give up here.”
“The ghosts aren’t very interesting tonight,” Lorenzo said. “The bishop is sleeping in his tomb, and the rest are out enjoying a night on the town.” Lorenzo placed a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps we could consider doing the same.”
A shiver ran down Tom’s spine. “What are you suggesting?”
Lorenzo leaned close. “That we find a dark, quiet spot and discover each other. Live for the night and let the ghosts take care of themselves.”
Tom cleared his throat, aware that his cock was pressing against his jeans, apparently in agreement with Lorenzo. “You’re gay?”
Lorenzo gave a Latin shrug. “I enjoy sex with men. Or I should say with a man since I do usually restrict myself to one at a time. What about you?”
“Yeah, one at a time.”
Lorenzo chuckled. “Come with me. We’ll keep each other warm and enjoy the stars.”
Tom nodded. He didn’t think his voice would work. He could hear the chatter of another approaching tour group and the clatter of hooves on the ancient cobblestones of the street. Lorenzo raised his hand and one of the town’s horse-drawn carriages pulled to a stop in front of them. Tom recognized the blue hair of the driver. The rent boy apparently had more than one way to make a few dollars on the city streets. The guy waited for them to climb in, then flicked the reins.
“A romantic way to travel, is it not?” Lorenzo asked as they turned onto King Street.
“I don’t think the town is used to seeing two men traveling this way,” Tom said, noticing a stare or two cast their way.
“Wink and blow a kiss at the ladies,” Lorenzo suggested. “They will believe we are flirting with them. Perhaps they will suspect the truth, but I have always found ladies appreciate a romantic gesture.”
Tom waved hesitantly at a woman. She smiled and waved back. Lorenzo blew a kiss, and a couple of young women flashed their legs at him before collapsing into giggles.
“See, they think you are handsome,” Lorenzo said.
“Do you think I’m handsome?” Tom flushed as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but the driver turned the carriage off the main street and onto a side street dark enough to hide it.
Lorenzo moved closer. “I know you are handsome.”
An arm went around his shoulder, and soft lips kissed his. “The driver will keep to the dark streets for as long as we need.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Yes, but not for some time. And you?”
“Not for sometime either, and never in a horse-drawn carriage. What about the driver?” He wasn’t too worried about shocking a rent boy who’d propositioned him already.
“Tribal? I think he does this sort of thing as often as he can. He’ll join us if we invite him.”
Tom shook his head. “One at a time. Besides who’d drive the carriage?”
“True.” Lorenzo pressed his lips to Tom’s.
Tom let himself relax into the kiss, to the feel of Lorenzo’s tongue slipping into his mouth. Then he felt Lorenzo’s hand on his crotch, pulling down his zipper.
“People might see,” he said around the kiss.
“I would strip you naked and take you screaming over the back of the carriage and let them watch,” Lorenzo whispered back.
Tom felt heat rising to his cheeks. He’d never been with anyone in anything close to public. Yeah, a couple of quick gropes in gay bars but nothing where anyone might be able to see him. Lorenzo seemed full of confidence, and the rent boy driver wasn’t the least bit worried about what was going on in the back of his carriage.
A tourist trolley headed toward them and he was ready to warn Lorenzo to stop when the carriage turned down another dark street. Lorenzo’s hand closed around his cock. He groaned, and his hips thrust into Lorenzo’s grip before he could think of how to respond.
“Shall I go first? Or perhaps I should say, will you come first?” Lorenzo’s thumb circled the head of Tom’s cock as he spoke, and Tom fought to hold back more groans. He didn’t want this man he’d just met to know how desperate he was for him. Maybe he was desperate for anyone. It had been months since his last relationship. Or anything he could call a relationship. It was a bit ironic that his dry run was ending in St. Augustine with two offers.
Lorenzo’s mouth found his as his hand moved back and forth along Tom’s cock. Tom opened hungrily to Lorenzo’s questing tongue. He wasn’t going to last long, but Lorenzo seemed as hungry for sex as he was. That surprised him. He couldn’t imagine a man who looked like Lorenzo not having plenty of offers. Any man who knew the rent boy carriage driver would be assured of at least one.
Lorenzo seemed to sense his need. He pulled back from Tom’s mouth and bent down. Now a warm tongue circled the head of Tom’s cock. He moaned, wanting to clench his fists in Lorenzo’s dark hair. Lorenzo licked slowly up and down his length, bringing more moans to his lips. Tom heard a soft chuckle as Lorenzo went down on him, taking his full length into his mouth. He groaned. Lorenzo moved back, sucking hard. Tom’s hands flew to clutch the dark hair. He stared up into the mosaic of tree branches and starry night overhead as he guided Lorenzo’s rhythm. Lorenzo increased his speed and sucked hard until Tom came in a series of quivering thrusts that raised his hips off the carriage seat. Spent, he dropped down, gasping. “Thank you.”
Lorenzo rose up to meet his eyes. “You are most welcome. You do not currently have a lover or a wife?”
Tom laughed. “No lover. No wife. I’m as free as a bird. You?” He wondered if Lorenzo’s question about a wife meant that his hot Latin lover had a wife and a bunch of children waiting for him at home. That could explain why he was picking men up on the street.
“No lover. No woman. You might say that this city is my cage.”
“It’s a good city to be caged in,” Tom said. “History, culture, ghosts.”
“Yes, it has plenty of ghosts,” Lorenzo said. “But sometimes it brings me very handsome men.” His fingers ran briefly along Tom’s thigh and his gaze dipped.
Tom knew it was time for him to return the favor, and he hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to explore Lorenzo’s body and fill his mouth with him, but because he was always nervous when he suspected a lover had more experience than he did.
Lorenzo had no hesitation in addressing the situation. One hand went around Tom’s neck to gently stroke the hair there while the other lifted Tom’s hand and placed it over the bulge in his pants. “You can feel how much I need you.”
Tom stroked the bulge, feeling the size of him.
“Are you a virgin, Tom?”
He shook his head. “No. But after my last relationship, I haven’t. For a while, anyway.”
Lorenzo continued to stroke his neck. “If one man is hesitant, perhaps he desires the other to take control.”
“I’m a bad bottom.” Maybe a worse top, he thought.
Lorenzo shrugged, unconcerned. “I am a man who knows what he wants, and what he needs. I want you. If this is not going to happen, I will need to employ the services of our carriage driver. Do you wish me to have him drive back to King Street?”
Tom’s fingers found the zipper to Lorenzo’s jeans. “No. Damn it, I’m tired of being lonely.”
“I understand.” Lorenzo finished with a sigh as his cock sprang free from his jeans. “Explore with your fingers first, Tom. Learn my shape. Feel my size and consider how I will fill your mouth. Fine sex, like fine wine, should be savored and enjoyed slowly. There is no need to rush.”
Tom’s fingers told him the length and size of Lorenzo. What remained a mystery was why this man needed to pick up strangers from the street. Perhaps he just enjoyed semi-anonymous sex in a romantic horse-drawn carriage. Tom relaxed against him, laying his head down on Lorenzo’s shoulder. Lorenzo drew him close, embracing him and breathing softly in his ear.
“You are a handsome man, Tom. You need not worry that I won’t enjoy what you do. Even if your last lover did not.”
Tom’s fingers lost their rhythm on Lorenzo’s cock. He lifted his head. “How do you know that?”
“You don’t hesitate like a virgin. Your hand knows the shape and feel of a man, but you hold back as if you’re worried that you will not bring your partner joy. Someone has told you that you disappointed him.”
Tom chuckled, joylessly. “A couple of someones. Not at the same time.”
Lorenzo’s hand went under his chin. He felt Lorenzo’s breath against his lips and opened to him. His tongue dove deep, touching the top of Tom’s mouth and reaching back into him as far as possible. Lorenzo kissed with such surety that Tom melted into the sensation. He closed his eyes and let Lorenzo pull back from the kiss and guide his head downward. From questing tongue to rigid cock. He paused to get the feel of it. Lorenzo was big, filling his mouth in an intriguing way.
One hand moved slowly over Tom’s short hair, stroking but not clutching. The other hand took one of Tom’s hands and guided it to his balls. Tom closed his fingers around them and felt them grown tight under his touch. “See, Tom. You do not disappoint me.”
He drew his head up, licking the full length of Lorenzo. Then he twirled the tip of his tongue around the head before moving back down. Lorenzo groaned in appreciation, and Tom sucked more aggressively. Hell, this wasn’t a relationship where he had to watch what he said or did. This was a one-night carriage ride with neither man judging the other. He might as well enjoy the taste and feel of Lorenzo while he had him.
Lorenzo’s fingers tangled in his hair and his thighs spread wider. Tom moved from the seat to the floor of the carriage. The rent boy knew his business. The carriage floor was covered with thick rugs and blankets for him to kneel on. He let Lorenzo push him down and fill him up. He felt like he could spend a lifetime wrapped around this man. Then Lorenzo’s hips bucked, and he thrust upward, coming in Tom’s mouth. Tom swallowed, tasting salt and sex. Another buck of the hips and another swallow. Then Lorenzo’s cock relaxed. Tom pulled free of him. He sat on the floor of the carriage, his head in Lorenzo’s lap while the other man stroked his hair.
“Where are you staying, Tom?”
“The Saint Francis Inn.”
“I will have Tribal take the carriage there. I thank you for tonight, but some things are meant only for a night, even if we might wish otherwise.”
Tom nodded. Maybe this was best. One night. One carriage ride. Then back to his ghost hunting with no complications to interfere with his investigations. He stayed where he was, letting the other man caress him until carriage stopped.
“We are here, Tom.”
Lorenzo raised him up and kissed him softly. “Dream of me tonight, and I will dream of you.”
Tom nodded and stepped down from the carriage. The driver had his bag of equipment and helped drape it over his shoulder. Then with deft fingers, the rent boy pulled up Tom’s zipper and redid his belt.
“Don’t want to shock them in the Inn,” he said with a wink. “See you around, ghost hunter dude.” He swung back to the seat and urged the horse down the street.
Tom stood watching Lorenzo’s back. One night of joy, he thought. He wished it could be more.
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