Twilight: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 3

wasn’t about to push him.
    Yawning, Sam slid out of bed, shuffled to the bathroom door and opened it as quietly as he could. Citrus-scented steam billowed out. He could hear Bo singing softly, a lilting minor-key ballad in French.
    Sam grinned. Bo’s penchant for singing in the shower had been another interesting quirk he’d discovered since becoming Bo’s lover. The man was chock-full of surprises. Not all of those surprises were pleasant ones, but Sam didn’t care. He’d fallen in love with all of Bo, not just the easy parts.
    Moving silently, Sam pulled the shower curtain aside and stepped into the shower. Bo stood with his head tilted under the spray, rinsing shampoo out of his long black hair. His eyes were closed, his lips shaping the quiet syllables of the song. Sam shook his head. He supposed Bo’s nearly tone-deaf singing voice was the price he had to pay for being so physically stunning.
    “Couldn’t wait your turn, huh, Sam?”
“What, when I know you’re in here naked and wet? Hell no.” Stepping closer, Sam wound an arm around Bo’s waist and kissed his chin. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”
Bo laughed. Straightening up, he opened his eyes and molded his body to Sam’s. “So are you. Kiss me.”
Sam happily obeyed. He pressed his mouth to Bo’s and opened for Bo’s tongue, loving the soft, slick feel of it tangling with his own. Bo moaned, his cock firming against Sam’s hip. The sound made Sam burn inside.
Following a sudden, familiar urge, Sam broke the kiss, dropped to his knees and took Bo’s cock into his mouth. Bo let out a sharp cry. His hands slid into Sam’s hair and his hips began to move. Sam groaned with his mouth full. He loved sucking Bo off. Loved the way Bo’s cock slid between his lips and deep into his throat, the tang of precome on the back of his tongue, the way Bo’s moans rose in pitch as orgasm began to overtake him. He loved taking Bo to a different plane, driving him out of his mind with pleasure.
“Oh, oh fuck, Sam,” Bo breathed, and came in a rush of salty-bitter warmth down Sam’s throat.
Sam swallowed every drop, then climbed to his feet and swept Bo into a hard kiss. Bo’s hand found Sam’s shaft, his fingers stroking in a practiced rhythm. It didn’t take long before Sam felt the orgasm building inside him. It was always like that. Bo’s touch undid him, every time. Sam came with a shudder and a moan, one hand clamped onto Bo’s ass and the other buried in his hair.
“You’re a bad influence,” Bo murmured, smiling against Sam’s mouth.
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
Sam chuckled. “You love it.”
“I do.” Framing Sam’s face in his hands, Bo stared straight into his eyes. “I love you.”
Sam’s chest constricted. Almost two months to the day since Bo had first said those words to him, hearing it still had the power to reduce him to tears. Unwinding his hand from Bo’s hair, he caressed Bo’s wet, flushed cheek. “And I love you. So much.”
The tender shine in Bo’s eyes made Sam’s spirit soar. Bo brushed his fingertips across Sam’s lips. “Sam…”
When Bo’s lips met his again, Sam closed his eyes and let the kiss carry him away. If they were a few minutes late to the morning’s planning meeting, so what? They had to be so careful back home, mostly to keep Bo’s estranged wife, Janine, from finding out about their relationship. A leisurely shower together wasn’t something they got to do together often, and Sam intended to enjoy every second.
    “They noticed.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“Some of them did.”
“Like who?”
“Tessa.”
Sam sighed. If any of their group was going to
    notice Sam and Bo had been not only late to the meeting, but rather flushed and disheveled as well, it would’ve been Tessa. She was a journalist, keen-eyed and observant, and shrewd enough to be a little scary. But Sam didn’t think even she had thought anything of their slightly late, slightly rushed arrival to the meeting.
    “She didn’t notice, Bo.” They emerged from the quiet hallway where the meeting room was located into the rustic yet elegant lobby, and Sam dropped his voice low. “Even if she did, I don’t think she’d mention it to anyone else.”
    Bo shot him a worried look. “What if she does?”
    “Well, then, I guess everyone will think Tessa has an overactive imagination.”
“But what if they don’t think that? What if they believe her?”
“If they do, so what?” Exasperated, Sam stopped in an