On the Streets of New Orleans

by Lynn Lorenz

  The cops finished and drove off. Devon waited another five minutes, then got out of the car and rushed to the warehouse. He was late.

  Devon entered, and Mini-Mo and Mo greeted him.

  “Where you been?”

  He waved them off. “Got held up. Literally.” He laughed.

  “No shit?” Mini-Mo shook his head. “What’d you do?”

  “Turned him over to the cops, of course. Let them do their jobs. It’s what they get paid for, right?”

  “Right!” Mo said, and high-fived Devon, then Mini-Mo.

  “Where’s Jingo?” Devon asked them.

  “In the office. He’s on the phone.”

  “Okay. I got a job for you. That guy who jumped me was a junkie. Strung out is my guess. He’s been robbing people in the ’hood to get money for his scores. I want to know who he got his drugs from. Think you can handle that?”

  “Sure, boss. We’re on it.” The two brothers slipped out of the warehouse and into the night.

  Devon hoped they’d find another dealer so they could get rid of him, just like the other one. Mid-City needed the chance to get back on its feet, and it didn’t need drugs to do it.

  When he opened the door to the office, Jingo was just putting down his phone. “What’s up?”

  “Had a little incident. A junkie jumped me, but I took care of him. The cops picked him up, with a gun and his pockets loaded with baggies of crack.” Devon gave Jingo a wicked grin.

  Jingo laughed. “Damn! Poor bastard picked the wrong sonofabitch to jump, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, you right!” They high-fived, and Devon settled behind the desk.

  “So what now?” Jingo leaned against the wall.

  “I sent the brothers out to see what they could find.”

  Jingo pulled up a chair and sat. “Things are getting bad when a junkie tries to jump a badass like you.”

  “He also robbed the guy at the shelter the other night.” Devon frowned. “Hit him with his gun. He was lucky he wasn’t shot.” He rubbed his arms, as if a sudden chill had come over him, but it was the thought of Charlie lying dead on the steps.

  “True, dat.” Jingo shook his head. “But we’re taking back our neighborhood, boss, one street at a time, one dealer at a time.”

  “Not fast enough, and not with small-time dealers. If I could just find the main man and get him behind bars.”

  “You’ll get him.” Jingo stood. “I got a lead. Know that warehouse I was talking about over near the park?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I got a line on it. Found a guy who says a lot goes on there at night. Cars coming and going. Lots of strangers.”

  “Bingo! Sounds like that’s the place.” Devon slapped his desk. “Let’s set it up. We’ll go tomorrow night and see what’s up. Then we take them down.”

  Jingo nodded and stood. “I’ll meet you here at seven. We’ll drive over there, stake it out, and see what’s going on. If it’s the Mexicans, we’re going to need some real firepower, you know.”

  “Don’t worry. I got it covered.” Devon smiled. “You know I don’t like to get my hands dirty.” He held out his hands, palms up, to show Jingo.

  “I’m glad of it. Truly I am.” Jingo left the office.

  Devon sat back in his chair. If everything went well, he’d find the distribution center, call in the cops, and let them bust the dealers. Hopefully it would cut off the main dealer from his network, and the cops could trace the drugs all the way back to the boss in Mexico.

  He had some calls to make, then he could go home and get some sleep.

  CHARLIE ROLLED over in his bed and sighed. He regretted sending Devon away. Maybe he’d regret it for a long time, but what else could he do? He didn’t deserve happiness and a man like Devon.

  Despite having bad boy written all over his face, he was just the sort of man Charlie liked—a risk taker, smart, wily, but also very sweet and tender. At least he had been that way before Charlie had kicked him to the curb.

  Now?

  Even if Charlie wanted him back, Devon would probably run as far as possible in the other direction. Charlie was one messed-up son of a bitch, and he knew it. Devon knew it now too.

  He wished he’d get a do-over, like when he’d been a kid. This wasn’t the only time he’d wished for a repeat of his life. He’d spent every day of his jail time wishing he could rewind the tape and replay the day of the crash.

  The day he killed Lloyd. Destroyed his parents.

  If only he could rewind buying the coke. Snorting it. Getting in the car high as a kite when Lloyd asked to go to the store. Knowing Lloyd had trusted him. He’d fix it all.

  But there was no rewind button in life. You didn’t get second chances. Well, not for the big stuff. For the life-and-death crap. Those facts stayed the same and never changed.

  Lloyd was dead, his parents hated him, and nothing could bring his little brother back.

  Devon was gone, and there was no way Charlie could bring him back, and even if he could, should he?

  Devon wanted more than Charlie could give him right now. He’d said he’d wanted more than just a fuck buddy, but could Charlie trust him? Really trust him? The guy had something to do with drugs, for all the “I swears” he tossed around.

  Charlie could smell the cocaine a mile away, and Devon stood knee-deep in it somehow. He didn’t need his parole officer or his addiction counselor to tell him hooking up with a drug dealer would lead him where he never wanted to go again.

  So good-bye and good riddance, Mr. Devon whatever-your-name-is.

  Charlie MacAfee is smart enough to cut you loose.

  Even if you’re the best thing he’s seen in six long years.

  Chapter 9

  CHARLIE BOLTED upright. Someone was knocking on the front door of the shelter. He glanced at his clock. Nearly midnight.

  “Shit.” He lay back down, crossed his arms, and huffed. “You gotta be kidding me!”

  The knocking came again, this time a little louder.

  He tossed back the covers, got out of bed, and stomped to the door.

  “This better be good,” he mumbled as he opened it.

  Devon stood on the porch under the lamp.

  Charlie gasped. His heart thudded, and he shook his head. “Oh hell, no.” He pushed the door closed, but Devon reached out and stopped him.

  “Wait. I just wanted to tell you something.”

  Charlie knew he should close the door, but he opened it a little bit. “What? What is it that can’t wait until morning?” He scratched his head, then ran a hand over the stubble covering his jaw.

  Devon shuffled his feet, then looked into Charlie’s eyes. “That guy? That junkie who jumped you?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “You don’t have to worry about him. I took care of him tonight.”

  Charlie frowned. “What do you mean, took care of him?”

  “He jumped me. I took him out.” Devon shrugged.

  “You killed him?” Charlie’s voice nearly screeched, but he forced it to a loud whisper.

  “No! I knocked him down, tied him up, and called the cops. They took him away.”

  “Oh.” Charlie exhaled. His heart slowed from the frantic pace it had taken on since he’d opened the door to Devon. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”

  “I don’t want your thanks. I just wanted you to know what happened. You don’t have to worry about him or be scared—”

  “I’m not scared,” Charlie blurted out. Damn, had he come off as some scaredy-cat wimp? Not what he was going for—ever.

  “I know you’re not. Hell, you were brave to face him. Maybe a little stupid, since he had a gun, but still….” Devon chuckled.

  “Yeah, maybe a little stupid. I get that.” Charlie had to admit, it had been foolish.

  “So.” Devon shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  “So.” Charlie waited. Inside, a voice was saying Shut the door! Shut the door!

  But he didn
’t.

  Devon gave him one last heated look, then turned away.

  “Wait.” Charlie bit his lip.

  Devon spun around. “Yes?”

  “Want to come inside? It’s cold.” Charlie shivered, but it wasn’t the cold. He’d just invited Devon in and proven how weak he was. Damn.

  Devon looked around. “I thought it was against the rules.”

  “Shut up and get inside.” Charlie stood to the side.

  Devon slipped past him and headed to Charlie’s room. Cocky bastard. Charlie couldn’t help but smile when the man just opened his door and walked in, as if he owned the place.

  Charlie closed the door. Turned the lock. Leaned back against it.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Devon gazed at him with such naked hunger. How could Charlie resist?

  “Have you changed your mind?” Devon asked.

  Charlie looked at his feet, then up at Devon. “I don’t know what I feel or think anymore. Not since I met you. You’ve got me making promises and breaking them and questioning everything I thought I deserved.”

  “Good. Because you deserve to have some happiness, man.”

  “I deserve you?” Charlie laughed and ran his hand through his hair.

  “Yes. If I make you happy.”

  “I’m not sure. If you make me happy, I mean.”

  “Can we at least try? That’s all I’m asking.”

  “How can I be happy with a man I know nothing about? No last name. No job. Just a phone number on a blank card.” Charlie walked over to his bed and sat. “Too many secrets, Dev.” He shook his head.

  “I like when you call me Dev.”

  There was that grin and that dimple. Damn the man!

  He moved to Charlie and knelt in front of him. “Can I call you babe? Do you mind that?”

  “As long as it’s not honey or sweetheart. I hate those.” Charlie frowned. “I prefer Charlie. Not Chuck. Not Charles.”

  “Yes, sir!” Devon saluted. He placed his hands on Charlie’s knees and leaned in, intent burning in his eyes.

  Charlie closed his eyes and let Devon kiss him. The touch of the man’s lips on his sent a shockwave of arousal to his dick. He melted under the pressure of Devon’s body, falling back on the bed, pulling Devon down on top of him.

  He couldn’t deny it anymore. He wanted Dev to fuck him. He wanted to feel a man inside him again, feel the stretch and burn, the push and pull. Right now he didn’t know if it was anything more than long-denied lust speaking, but whatever it was, he wanted to answer the call.

  Dev nudged Charlie’s legs apart and settled between them, lying down on top of Charlie. They rubbed against each other as they kissed, trying to get deeper inside each other’s mouths, licking and sucking on tongues, then wrestling them away and attacking again. They petted and stroked over arms and faces, eating each touch as if it were candy.

  Charlie moaned as Dev sucked a mark on his neck near his collarbone. He arched into Dev’s body, pushing his cock against Dev’s hard rod, and got an answering groan for his efforts.

  His body was on overdrive, and he was careening toward orgasm. With a few more bites or kisses, or thrusts, he’d go over the edge of the cliff.

  Dev wrapped his hand in Charlie’s hair and licked up and down his throat, taking nips along the way. “Fuck, babe, your skin tastes so good. I can’t get enough.”

  Charlie smiled. “Taste as much as you want.”

  Dev came back and kissed Charlie, but his body still moved in a slow hump against Charlie’s, drawing everything out of him. “I want inside you, Charlie. It doesn’t have to be tonight. By now, you should know I want to fuck you.”

  “And I want you to, but I want to fuck you too.”

  “Good. I want that so bad. Been thinking about you taking me, riding my ass hard.” Dev nipped Charlie’s earlobe and tugged on it.

  Charlie stared at him. “You said you never….” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m making an exception for you.”

  “Tell me your last name, Dev.” Charlie wanted more than just sex, and this was one of the things he needed to know before they went much further.

  “It’s Maxwell. Devon Maxwell.”

  “Okay. Good.” Charlie hadn’t expected the man to tell him, not really, and he wasn’t sure it was his real name, but he had to start somewhere with trusting him. His last name was as good a place to start as any.

  “I told you before, I can’t talk about what I’m doing.” Dev looked into Charlie’s eyes. “Look, best I can do is tell you it’s not illegal, and I’m not selling drugs.”

  “Okay. I guess I have to live with that.”

  “Yeah, you do. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is for now.”

  Charlie nodded. “Now get back to kissing me.”

  And Dev did.

  When they’d surged together and apart a couple more times, Charlie couldn’t keep from losing it. The tingling started in his balls, tightened, then slammed through him.

  “Dev!” he cried.

  Dev wrapped his arms around Charlie as he shuddered through his climax, then with a few more quick thrusts, Dev froze and groaned.

  “Shit. Came in my jeans.” Dev laughed and rolled off Charlie.

  Charlie wiped at his pajama bottoms. “Yeah. Guess we should’ve gotten naked.”

  “Next time, babe.” Dev sat up. “I don’t want to stay too late and get you in trouble.”

  “You better go.” Charlie sat up as Dev got out of bed. There was a damp spot on his jeans just left of his zipper. Charlie looked down at his sleep pants and found the matching spot. Good thing they were black.

  They walked to the front door, and Charlie unlocked it and then opened it. “See you around.”

  Devon smiled, flashed the dimple. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

  “I can do that. What time?”

  “Seven. Same place?”

  “Okay. See you there.”

  Devon trotted down the steps and over to his car. He gave Charlie a wave, then got in. Charlie closed the door and leaned against it.

  “Who was that?” a gravel-filled voice asked.

  Charlie jumped and looked down the hall. Buddy, one of the old guys, shuffled toward him.

  “Someone looking for shelter.” Charlie’s heart pounded, and he resisted the impulse to put his hand over it to slow it down. How much had Buddy seen or heard?

  “Why didn’t he stay?”

  “Changed his mind, I guess.” Charlie shrugged.

  “I think maybe he got what he came here for.” The old man’s gray face twisted in a sneer.

  Charlie didn’t say a word. He just watched Buddy go up the stairs to the dorm rooms with his shaving kit. Inside, fear started digging a little hole in his belly.

  What if the old man suspected? What if he told the priests?

  What if they kicked Charlie out, and he lost the only home he’d known for the last four years?

  Chapter 10

  CHARLIE SPENT most of the next day worrying whether the priests would find out and send him packing. He didn’t have much here, that was true. It wasn’t as if he had much in the way of belongings. Nothing to pack other than his clothes, really.

  Leaving the place he’d found safety and sanctuary in bothered him. Scared him, in fact. Facing the real world, having to find another job, telling employers he was a criminal, terrified him. No one would hire him.

  To Charlie’s surprise, nothing happened. Father Peder didn’t even call. By the time the evening rolled around, Charlie could breathe without getting all tied up in knots. He had to get dressed for his dinner date with Devon, but he needed to make sure the dinner at the shelter was under control before leaving.

  “Hey, Jake,” Charlie called to one of the kitchen workers as he breezed through the swinging doors.

  Jake looked up from the large vat of mashed potatoes he was working with. “What’s up, boss?”

  “I’m not going to be here tonight. Can you take ove
r for me? Make sure the men move through the line and get settled?” Charlie leaned his hip on the stainless steel counter.

  “Sure. Got a hot date?” Jake waggled his eyebrows at Charlie.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Good. You need to get out. Have some fun.” Jake dumped another batch of boiled potatoes into the large industrial blender.

  “What do you know about what I need?” Charlie laughed.

  “I can see, man. You spend all your time here. Live here. Never go out except once or twice a week.” Jake’s grin told Charlie he knew he had him dead to rights.

  “Well, that might change.”

  “I’m just saying good.” Jake laughed and hit the button. The machine’s large paddles started to work on the potatoes, and the noise it made cut off any chance for more conversation. Fine by Charlie.

  He gave Jake a thumbs-up. Jake nodded and shot one back at him.

  Good. All set. He could have dinner with Devon without worrying about the shelter. At least until closing time at ten.

  He headed to his room to get showered, shaved, and dressed. He had less than an hour to get there.

  DEVON STOOD outside the entrance of the restaurant and finished his cigarette. Just down the block, a figure headed his way. From the way the butterflies danced in his belly, he knew it was Charlie.

  Damn, just the sight of the man had him hot and bothered.

  Tonight he had plans for Charlie. He’d cleaned up his apartment, restocked his lube and condoms, and changed the sheets. He hoped they’d have a quick dinner, then go to his place and go all the way.

  He chuckled. Shit. He sounded like a teenager again.

  He and Charlie were going to do the nasty, if he had anything to say about it. If Charlie wanted into Devon’s life, then the first thing would be to show Charlie his house. Make him feel at home there.

  Maybe even let him leave a toothbrush.

  Charlie approached and raised his hand in greeting. Devon jerked his chin up. “Where you at?”

  “Right here, man.” Charlie laughed. “Let’s get a table before they fill up.”