The Lucky Cat

by L. M. Somerton

  “You have good coffee.”

  “Fuck!” Landry whirled around to find Gage lounging in the kitchen doorway, smirking, a steaming mug in his hand. “I’m glad you like it.” He gripped his towel so tight his knuckles ached.

  “You want one?”

  “Oh God, yes.”

  “Then drop the towel.”

  “What? No!”

  “It’s a fair exchange. Coffee for the towel.” Gage inhaled over his mug, then sighed. “So good.”

  “You’re…you’re…infuriating.”

  “And you are stunning.”

  Heat built in Landry’s cheeks. Cursing, he shoved open his bedroom door with one hip, sidled into the room then slammed it shut. He wasn’t used to feeling so off balance. He had been seconds away from doing exactly as Gage ordered and not because he wanted coffee that much. Gage was unpredictable, exciting, and Landry’s fight or flight instincts were warring with each other. Gage made his desires clear but things were moving too fast for Landry. This was different from a casual hook-up—he wanted it to be more. Gage appealed to him in a way he hadn’t experienced before and it scared him.

  “Well, he’s not going to get everything his own way.” Landry pulled open the double doors of his art deco wardrobe. It was a gorgeous piece but a few bits of the veneer had peeled away so Mr. Lao had consigned it to Landry’s apartment rather than putting it up for sale. He shoved hangers around, trying to decide what to wear. Other than telling him they were going out to eat, Gage hadn’t given him any details about the restaurant. For all Landry knew, they could have a nine ‘o clock reservation at the hot dog stand near the park. He fingered the fabric of his only pair of leather pants but decided against them in favor of a fresh pair of black, skinny jeans—this time with no tears. A fitted, light blue shirt, which had been a gift from his mother, completed the ensemble. Conservatively sexy, if there is such a thing. He pulled on socks and a pair of black Vans that he’d found in a thrift store, brand-new, still in the box. Something he’d credited to the influence of a new lucky cat he’d acquired the same day.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, which never achieved any kind of style, then added a little kohl around his eyes and a slick of clear lip gloss. As ready as he would ever be, Landry made his way through to the kitchen where he found Gage leaning against the units, drinking the last of his coffee and looking completely at home. Landry accepted the mug Gage handed him then took his time examining him from head to toe. The man cleaned up well. The fine-knit sweater he wore hugged every curve of his body. His jeans, black like Landry’s, gripped his thighs and the curve of his ass. He had long legs, currently crossed at the ankles to display heavy boots that added an inch to his height. Landry caught the scent of lemons behind the aroma of coffee and breathed deeply.

  “Like what you see?” Gage was grinning.

  Landry shrugged. “Maybe I like a man for his mind rather than the way he looks.” He took several deep swallows of coffee, draining the mug in seconds. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see, but not for long because we need to leave if we’re going to get there for nine. It’s a short drive.” Gage walked over to him and Landry took an involuntary step back but it was a small room and there was nowhere for him to go. Gage crowded against him. He stroked the side of Landry’s neck then gave his earlobe a gentle nip. “You look good.”

  The whispered words and hot breath so close to Landry’s ear made him shiver and his cock plumped in the confines of his jeans. Gage cupped the bulge. “I have something for you.” He pressed a ring of thick black rubber into Landry’s hand. “I’ll allow you to put this on yourself tonight, but just this once. In the future, that job will be mine.”

  “You want me to wear a cock ring?”

  “No, it’s not a request. I’m ordering you to wear it. I’m going to keep you hard and wanting all night.”

  “I…”

  “The appropriate response is ‘Yes, Sir’.”

  “You can’t… I mean, I won’t…”

  “Landry, go to the bathroom, put the ring on.”

  Landry gave a strangled whimper. “Fine… Sir.”

  “On any other night that tone would get you a spanking. Now do as you’re told, or we’ll be late.”

  Landry scampered back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him in the only gesture of defiance he could manage. Gage’s commands had made him painfully hard. He tore open his jeans then fitted the tight rubber ring around the base of his cock, not easy in his current state. There was no way he wanted to come in his pants like a teenager while he was out on a date so he told himself that obeying was practical. Acceptance didn’t make his balls ache any less or make it easier to get his stiff cock back into his jeans. He zipped up with great care, wondering whether going commando had been such a good idea. He yanked on the hem of his shirt, hoping it was long enough to cover his embarrassment.

  “Fuckety fuck. Should have worn looser pants.” The outline of his cock beneath the soft denim was clear for anyone to see. The bathroom door swung open.

  “That’s long enough, let’s go.” Gage took a firm hold of Landry’s wrist then towed him toward the front door. Unresisting, Landry allowed him to lead the way.

  “Are you going to act like a caveman all night?”

  “Act?” Gage blinked then shrugged. “Pretty much. Any objections?”

  Landry was focused on not tripping down the stairs but he couldn’t think of a single good reason for Gage to behave differently. He kept his silence, wondering how this date would turn out. He had an idea that Gage’s plan for a good night wouldn’t fit social norms. Landry wasn’t the black sheep of his family—more like the kinky rainbow lamb everyone wanted to protect—but he’d never considered himself normal, whatever that was. Bring it on, Detective. The night promised to be the start of a great new adventure.

  Chapter Four

  Gage kept his hand on the small of Landry’s back all the way to his parking spot. There was something about the man that made Gage want to touch. He wondered how much wriggling it had taken Landry to get into his pants because they could have been spray-painted on. Not that Gage objected, far from it, but it might have been fun to watch the squirming, especially as he was sure there could be no room for underwear beneath the denim.

  “Which one is your ride?” Landry asked, scanning the parked vehicles. “No, don’t tell me. It’s the Lexus.”

  “How much do you think detectives bring in?”

  “Not the Prius? Please no, I have to maintain a modicum of street cred.” Landry bounced on his toes.

  “Try the other side of the street, smart ass.”

  “Oh my God, it’s the beaten-up Jeep, isn’t it?” Landry jogged across the street without checking for traffic. “Have you been off-roading in this thing? Because I’ve seen less muck on the speedway track after three straight days of rain.”

  “It’s camouflage.” Gage yanked open the passenger door. “Get in, and did no one ever tell you to look both ways before crossing the street?” He waited until Landry was safely inside the Jeep before circling the vehicle to get behind the wheel.

  “It’s scary clean in here.” Landry put on his seat belt. “I was expecting Krispy Kreme boxes, take-out cups, burger wrappers…” He swiped a finger along the dash as if checking for dust. “Did you get it valeted just for me?”

  “No, I did not. I spend more time in this car than I do at the station. I don’t like living in a pigsty.”

  “Smells…lemony.” Landry prodded various buttons.

  “Maybe one day I’ll get you to wash it.” Gage slapped Landry’s wandering hand away from the CD player before turning on the ignition. “Naked.”

  “That doesn’t sound like fun…though there are advantages to getting wet and sudsy. It’s comfy in here. I like it.” Landry tugged at the glove compartment. “Locked. My bad.”

  “I’m a cop. What do you expect to find in there?” Gage kept his
eyes on the road.

  “Uh, dunno…donuts or a first aid kit? Oh my God! Is it locked because you have a freakin’ gun in there?”

  “It’s a spare, and why do you have an obsession with cops and donuts?”

  “Don’t tell me it’s an urban myth because that will destroy me.”

  Gage thought about some of his colleagues. “Nah, it’s true. Most of the cops I know run on adrenaline, caffeine and sugar.”

  “But not you?”

  “I have been known to indulge in the occasional chocolate custard, though why I’m admitting that to you I’ve no idea.”

  “You’re making me hungry and I’m good at making people talk. They seem to open up to me. No idea why.”

  “Because they want to get a word in edgewise? I need to invest in a whole new set of gags.” Gage sighed. “So what do you drive?”

  “Does a skateboard count?” Landry nibbled a fingernail.

  “Stop that or I’ll tie your hands behind your back.”

  Landry shoved his hands under his thighs. “No fair.”

  “So, do you have a license or did someone with sense decide you’d be a liability behind the wheel?”

  “Hey! I can drive but I’d much rather be a passenger. Traffic in Seattle is super scary and people yell at me when I miss a green light because there’s a good song on the radio.”

  Gage tried to keep up but decided to give it up as a lost cause. He drove the next five minutes half listening to Landry’s running commentary on everything they passed. “We’re here. Pray for a parking space.”

  “There, by the dumpster!”

  “Nice spot.” Gage reversed the car into a space he would probably have missed. He switched off the ignition then turned to Landry. “I should tell you that the restaurant we’re going to is a bit different. It’s called The Bowline.”

  Landry gaped. “You’re kidding me! That place is impossible to get a table at. I’ve always wanted to go there because everyone at the club talks about it.”

  “Which club do you go to?” Gage asked.

  “I have a membership at Scorch.”

  “Good choice. It’s the safest option in this city.”

  “I know. I’ve been to a few others on open nights but the owners at Scorch are good guys—they vet everyone, and subs get really low membership rates. Are we really going to The Bowline? ‘Cause if we are I might let you get to second base tonight.”

  “Yes, we are and I want you on your best behavior. The owners are friends of mine.”

  “Yes, Sir.” For once there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in Landry’s tone. There was a touch of awe.

  Mitch opened the door to the restaurant before Gage reached for the bell.

  “Welcome to The Bowline!” He ushered them inside. “Good to see you, Gage, and this is…?”

  “Landry, meet Mitchell Alvarez-Cross, wine connoisseur and general gopher around this place while his husband, Diego, works his magic in the kitchen.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Really. I can’t believe I’m here.” Landry stared, wide-eyed, at everything.

  “Seems your reputation precedes you,” Gage said, amused.

  “And so it should.” Mitch grinned. “Let me show you to your table.”

  Gage followed Mitch across the restaurant, weaving between tables occupied by a mix of couples and small groups. A naked sub was laid across one table, his Dom feasting from an array of chopped fruit spread over his body. At another, a Dom sat alone but from the blissful expression on his face, Gage guessed the floor-length cloth concealed more than table legs. Two couples occupied a table inside a cage—both subs had collars attached to the bars by long chains.

  “Wow. Oh, wow.” Landry tripped but Gage caught him before he fell.

  “You need to watch where you’re going,” Gage scolded, enjoying the warmth of Landry’s body in his arms.

  “But, there’s so much to see!” Landry pouted.

  “And you’re welcome to look, young man,” Mitch said. “Guests wanting privacy choose the booths or concealed tables. Everyone else expects to be seen—it’s part of their fun. Takes all sorts.”

  “My friends at Scorch are gonna be the same color as Shrek when I tell them I’ve been here.”

  Gage shook his head. “This isn’t about making your friends jealous. It’s about having a nice night out in surroundings where we can be ourselves and where the food tops any upscale restaurant in the city.”

  “Uh-huh. That too. They’re still gonna be green as Kermit.”

  Mitch gestured to a staircase leading to a raised platform. “Your table is up there. Go settle in. Menus are on the table. I’ll bring some iced water in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, Mitch. I’ll have to send a fruit basket to Ben and Carl.”

  “I’ve reserved the same table for them in four weeks’ time. Carl should be all fixed by then.”

  “Then I don’t feel quite so bad.” Gage climbed the stairs, following Landry, who’d already disappeared behind the thick velvet drapes. The hidden table was lit by a series of lanterns slung around the curtain rail, making the atmosphere romantic but cozy. It wasn’t so dark that they’d have to squint to see their food.

  “This is amazing!” Landry sat on one of the plush chairs, bouncing to test its comfort. “So far you’re scoring major date points, and I have exacting standards.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” Gage took the chair next to him, rather than sitting opposite.

  “Of course. You can tell a lot about a prospective boyfriend from his approach to a date. A hot dog after a bad movie signals a definite lack of commitment. Splashing the cash is all about getting into my pants, but marks me down as shallow and easily impressed, which I’m not.”

  “I’m glad I meet the bar,” Gage said, trying not to laugh.

  “So far… It’s not a sure thing until the end of the night.” Landry picked up the menu. “How am I expected to choose? This all sounds so good.” He wrinkled his nose in apparent concentration, the tip of his tongue poked between his lips.

  “Do you have any strong likes or dislikes?” Gage asked.

  “I’ll eat anything,” Landry said. “Except snails because even garlic butter can’t redeem them. Or baby octopus because they’re far too cute to be eaten.”

  “Noted. I can order for us both.”

  “Okay.”

  “No arguments? I expected more resistance.”

  “If we want to eat tonight, it’s best you choose. I’ll be dithering over my choices for hours.”

  “Indecisive, huh?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe. The only reason I can decide what to have for breakfast is because I only keep one box of cereal in the kitchen.”

  “Let me guess, Lucky Charms?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Detective, remember?”

  “Were you poking around my kitchen cupboards earlier?”

  “No comment.”

  When Mitch reappeared to take their order, Gage chose an easy starter to share, avoiding garlic. For the main course he opted for Diego’s specialty, which was a sampler of dishes.

  “Food will be about fifteen minutes, so what about drinks?”

  “Just the iced water for me,” Gage said. “I’m driving.”

  “Same,” Landry said. “I get tipsy if I so much as sniff alcohol. One drink and my inhibitions take a vacation to Honolulu, complete with Hawaiian shirt.”

  Mitch grinned. “Water it is.” He left, returning a few minutes later with a large pitcher and two glasses. “Enjoy. Diego says hi but he’s up to his ears in cooking.”

  “Say hi back,” Gage said. “You guys will have to come round to my place for dinner soon.”

  “Only if Diego brings the ingredients and cooks in your kitchen,” Mitch said. “Your last attempt was disastrous.”

  Gage shrugged. “Why do you think I’m inviting you over? That was a one-off. I need to redeem myself and prove my skills.”

  Landry giggled and s
hared a smile with Mitch.

  “No ganging up on me, you two. That one time I was a bit too ambitious, but I love to experiment. I don’t have time to practice much, is all. My mac and cheese is sublime and besides, diners would cease to exist if it weren’t for people like me.”

  “So it’s a public service you’re providing?” Mitch headed down the steps before Gage could respond.

  “And you, giggle boy, are digging yourself into a hole that you’ll need a ladder to get out of.”

  Landry fiddled with a napkin. “Am I in trouble?”

  “I get the feeling you’re in trouble most of the time,” Gage said.

  “I think I should be offended, but Mr. Lao calls me a trouble magnet so I can’t deny it. I just seem to fall into situations… They’re never my fault.”

  “Right. Of course they’re not.”

  Before Gage could say anything further, Mitch returned with a basket of flatbread and a dish of oil before rushing off again.

  “He’s gonna get a lot of exercise going up and down those steps tonight,” Landry said.

  “He runs marathons for fun. I don’t think a few steps bother him much.” Gage leaned back in his seat. “So, apart from going to Scorch, what do you do for fun?”

  “Between Treasure Trove and the club, I don’t have much free time,” Landry said. “I like browsing the street markets and window-shopping. I don’t go to a gym because I get enough exercise walking everywhere and carrying stuff in the store.” He patted his flat belly. “I’m lucky I can eat what I want and never gain a pound. What about you, what do you do other than solve crimes and eat donuts?”

  “Well, I do admit to going to the gym at the station every now and again but I like getting out to the national parks, or into the mountains. My sister has an RV that she lets me take out whenever she’s not using it. I like to park somewhere wild, hike a little, take photographs, just sit and read.”

  “Sounds cool. Other than summer camp when I was a kid, I haven’t traveled much at all. Have you ever seen a bear or a moose, oh, or a wolf?”