Page 19

Asher

Despite Calisto doing his best to whisper, I could still hear him talking in the bathroom. To himself? To Baxter? I might have done my best to remain as blasé as possible, but I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t find Calisto conversing with someone I couldn’t see disconcerting. At least, he’d finally opened up and told me the truth. I assumed that was all of it. Although there was always a chance he still held something back.

Today had been a lot. What with finding him virtually comatose and fearing the worst. Then, sitting through another family dinner while neither of us mentioned what had happened and pretended everything was fine. And then having to sit there while Calisto put himself through an emotional wringer―not being able to take him in my arms when I’d wanted to, nothing short of torturous.

Now, he’d holed up in the bathroom, and all I could do was wait for him to come out. If he was hoping to find me asleep, he was going to be disappointed. I’d sit here all damn night if I needed to.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open to reveal Calisto framed in the doorway, his arms braced on either side of it. I did what I hadn’t allowed myself to do while we’d talked on the bed and Calisto had been upset: I looked my fill.

Calisto was stockier than I was, his shoulders broader and his biceps thicker. He had a smattering of dark hair on his chest that made me itch to trail my fingers through it to discover whether it was as soft as it looked. The hair continued over taut abs—no six pack, but no less perfect for it—to disappear into the waistband of his pajamas.

Pajamas I’d picked out for him. What would he say if he knew how much time I’d spent deliberating over the clothes I’d bought for him? Thinking about style, and color, and fabric, and which would complement his complexion the most. He’d probably think me weird and be concerned by how much time I’d spent thinking about him. And he’d be right on both scores. Knowing that didn’t stop me from finding pleasure at how well I’d chosen, the pajama pants clinging to his lean hips like a second skin.

His Mediterranean complexion meant his nipples were dark, and I found my gaze lingering on them. Were they sensitive? Did he like to have them licked? Bitten? How vanilla was Calisto? Not that it mattered. He could have been into heavy BDSM and I’d have asked him what type of ball gag he wanted to use on me?

Calisto jerked his head to the empty expanse of bathroom at his back. “I was talking to Baxter.”

“I figured.” My voice was husky, and I cleared it as subtly as I could without making it obvious.

“He’s gone now.” Something about the way he said it had me scrutinizing him more carefully. He’d washed his face, all traces of tears gone, but his expression told me I was missing something here. Some subtext or hidden meaning.

“Okay… We should probably get some sleep.” I climbed out of bed and attempted to straighten the sheets, the bedding having suffered from both Calisto and me moving around in it while we’d talked.

“I was thinking…” Calisto said, still standing there, fingers tapping against the varnished wood, his voice hesitant.

“You were thinking?” I prompted when he went quiet. Sheets now straight, I climbed back in my side, laying my head back against the pillow.

He laughed, embarrassment leaking from him in droves. “I was thinking,” he repeated, “that in this situation we find ourselves in that neither of us knows what tomorrow might bring.”

“That’s true,” I agreed, unsure where he was going with this.

“I mean… O’Reilly could drive a tank up to your door with a rocket launcher as back-up.”

“Unlikely,” I said, “on both counts. She might find it easier than most to lay her hands on a lot of things, but I think a tank and a rocket launcher might be beyond even her scope of capability. And London traffic would render driving a tank as distinctly impractical.”

Calisto’s fingers flexed against the wood. “You get my point, though, right?”

“I’m not sure, I do,” I said. “Sorry. You might have to spell it out.”

Calisto turned away, rubbing his chin against his shoulder in a gesture that reeked more of an excuse not to look at me than of any genuine itch. “Live for today,” he said, “because tomorrow might never come.”

“I’m pretty sure it will.” I sneaked a glance at the clock on my bedside table. “And in just a few hours.”

“You’d rather sleep?”

I didn’t know whether it was the late hour, or a general lack of intelligence on my part, but it felt like Calisto was talking in riddles. “I wasn’t aware there was another option.”

“No?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Calisto did the chin scratch thing again, his words coming out in a rush. “Only… we had that kiss, right? More than a kiss, really, because we were in bed and you were naked. That’s not how most first kisses go.” He gave a little laugh. “There’s normally a date involved… dinner at a restaurant or a trip to the cinema.” His frown said he was struggling to remember any more first date activities.

“Bowling, or going to a museum,” I offered to be helpful.

“A museum!” Calisto’s slight grimace said he wouldn’t be visiting any museums any time soon, date or no date. “Why haven’t we talked about it?”

“The museum?”

“The kiss.”

“Oh. I didn’t think you wanted to, and I wanted to respect your wishes.”

“Maybe you should be less polite.”

More riddles. “In what way?”

Calisto finally levered himself out of the doorway to come and stand at the end of the bed. “You’ve been sleeping next to me every night.”

“I have,” I agreed.

“Didn’t you want to… I don’t know, like just grab me or something?”

“Grab you?” I suddenly got it. “Did you… want to be grabbed?”

“Maybe.” A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Calisto’s lips. “I wanted… something. I’m not saying,” he quickly added, “that I’m buying into the forever thing, so if that’s a deal breaker for you, tell me now.”

I didn’t need to think about my answer. “It isn’t.” Whatever I could get from Calisto, I’d take. Even if that was the equivalent of relationship crumbs. Even if it amounted to nothing in the end and left me heartbroken. I was fully on board the ‘better to have loved and lost’ train. I might even be the one driving it.

“Okay.” Calisto lifted one knee to the bed, leaning his weight forward until the mattress indented. “I should probably admit that seduction is not one of my strong points.”

“Lucky then that I don’t need seducing.” I pulled myself up against the headboard, the movement eliciting a frown from Calisto.

“You just got farther away.”

“I got comfortable,” I corrected. Another knee on the bed. A slight pause, and then he knee-walked forward until he straddled my feet. “Light on or off?” I asked.

“On.”

No hesitation. I liked that. But then I liked everything about this, from the intent look in Calisto’s eye as he worked his way up my body, to the fact that he was instigating it. “Good choice,” I said. “That way I get to see you.”

“Yeah?” A slight twitch of his lips again. “And is it worth looking at?”

I repeated my scrutiny of his bare chest. “A thousand times, yes.”

“A thousand, hey? That’s a lot of times.” Having reached his destination, Calisto lifted his hands to rest them on my shoulders and then sank down so his arse pressed against my sheet-covered cock. “It just seems a shame,” he said conversationally, “when I might die tomorrow, not to explore some.”

So that’s the point he’d been trying to make earlier. “You’re not dying tomorrow.”

“I might,” Calisto said, sounding distracted. “O’Reilly, and her tank, and her rocket launcher.”

I slid my hands to Calisto’s hips, giving him time to object to my intention. When he didn’t, I curled my fingers around them. Not stroking. Not caressing. Just feeling the warmth of taut muscles through the thin cotton of the pajamas. Apart from that one occasion where I’d let… lust or love, take your pick between the two, get the better of me and rolled on top of him, this was the most intimate we’d been. “She wants you alive. She’d be far more likely to kill me than you.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” Calisto said. He contemplated his words, a rosy flush creeping into his cheeks. “I mean…”

“Don’t take it back,” I pleaded. “It’s not professing undying love. It’s just saying you don’t find me completely abhorrent.”

Calisto smiled. “If I found you completely abhorrent, I wouldn’t be in this position, would I? I find you far from abhorrent.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Calisto pulled a face. “Have I been that bad?”

“Bad… No. Just… bemused... blindsided.”

He nodded. “Blindsided… that’s the perfect word.”

I repositioned my hands, the tips of my fingers sliding under the fabric. The need to kiss him was like a splinter stuck under my skin, the want a hot throb that ebbed and flowed, but that never went away. I wanted him to make the first move, though. Why hadn’t he when he’d come this far?

Calisto gave an embarrassed little laugh. “My parents are here,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “My grandparents. My siblings. Even my damn aunt is. Although she’s probably passed out in a drunken stupor.”

“I can be quiet.”

Calisto’s thumbs traced the curve of my shoulders, and it was all I could do not to shiver. His smile held a hint of shyness that was completely adorable. Even more so for it being completely at odds with him having crawled on top of me to sit on my groin. “ You might be able to. I don’t know if I can.”

A sharp spear of desire left me breathless and incapable of speech, my usual cool persona deserting me. If only John could see me now. Or maybe not. This wasn’t a moment I wanted to share. I mustered words up from somewhere. “Are you usually loud?”

Color flooded Calisto’s cheeks again. “Sometimes. It’s not something I usually have to worry about.”

“I’ll keep you quiet,” I promised.

Calisto’s tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip. “How?”

I could answer his question and we could keep talking, or I could do what he seemed to be waiting for and make that first move. Releasing my hold on one of his hips, I hooked a hand at the back of his neck and pulled his face to mine, delighting in his sharp intake of breath. The first touch of his lips against mine introduced fireworks into my bloodstream, my already swollen cock straining to get closer. “I’ll keep your mouth busy,” I said, continuing the conversation during a breather to drag some oxygen into our respective lungs.

“Yeah?” The breathless way Calisto said it proved he wasn’t averse to the idea.

“Yeah. I’ll look after you.” He didn’t have to know that I wasn’t just talking about sex, that my comment was about the bigger picture. Whether I was just a quick tumble to pass the time for him, or someone he might eventually decide he wanted in his life, I had every intention of keeping tabs on him, and if that made me a stalker, then so be it. I’d be the best man at his goddamn wedding if he required it of me. As long as he was happy.

With his happiness at the forefront of my mind, but in a far more short-term capacity, I eased him off me, Calisto looking up at me with the face of a man trying to work out my intentions as I lay him back on the bed. I didn’t leave him guessing for long as I hooked the fingers of both hands in his pajama pants and yanked. The hard cock that popped out was beautiful. Not too large. Not too small. Not as dark as the rest of Calisto’s naturally tanned complexion, but darker than most other cocks I’d seen. “Wait there,” I said as I crossed the bed to access the drawer in the bedside cabinet.

My movement dislodged the sheet from my lap, the hand that landed on my backside in a gentle slap reminding me I was naked. “I don’t know where you think I’m going to go,” Calisto said teasingly.

“You’ve already admitted,” I said as I located the lube—and condoms, because you never know—“that you can travel to a place between worlds. So I’m not taking any chances.”

“Still here,” Calisto said with a smile. His gaze dropped to where my hard cock was on display, the extended scrutiny he subjected it to making me want to pose. “Nice,” he eventually said, the effort of forcing his gaze back to my face seeming to take an extreme amount of willpower.

“I’m glad you approve. It’s the only one I’ve got.”

Calisto smirked. “You have jokes, as well.”

“As well as what?”

“As well as the body of a god and being a fantastic kisser.”

The unexpected compliment had me avoiding his eyes as I lay down next to him. Thankfully, I had the lube to concentrate on. I dripped some on my palm and then wrapped my hand around Calisto’s cock. My first few strokes were slow and experimental as I tested out what he liked in terms of grip, speed, and rhythm. Once I had it, Calisto proving a fan of firm with a slight twist thrown in, I upped the pace.

I kissed him while I stroked him, swallowing down the little groans of pleasure he made. “Keeping your mouth busy,” I said during a pause. I didn’t give him a chance to respond, already kissing him again. When muscle tremors and ragged breathing gave away how close he was to coming, I abandoned his mouth to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Close,” he said. “I should…” The ‘should’ was him reaching for my cock with ideas of reciprocity in mind.

I batted his hand away. “You first.”

He didn’t argue, sagging back against the pillows and giving himself up to my ministrations. With my free hand, I tugged his pajama pants off, Calisto seeming to appreciate the newly found freedom, his thighs falling open. It wasn’t long before he glistened with sweat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in oxygen. “Going to come really soon if you don’t stop,” he said, his words coming out in pants.”

“I’m not stopping.”

True to my word, I kept going until he writhed beneath my touch, his nipples pebbling and every muscle straining as he came close, only to not quite reach his peak.

He’d gradually grown louder as well, forcing me to keep my promise by covering his mouth with my hand. He came soon after that, his shout muffled by the pressure of my palm as cum splattered across his chest. I kept my hand there as he panted into it, his eyes still tightly squeezed shut. Only when he opened them and nodded did I remove it.

I got up to get a washcloth, absently wondering as I flicked the light on in the bathroom and turned the tap on whether Baxter really had gone, or whether I’d just put on a sex show for someone who’d been dead for decades. It was a strange thought and one I didn’t want to dwell too long on.

Calisto propped himself up on both elbows when I returned to the room, his gaze skimming over my erection, but not commenting on it. Rather than letting me do it, he took the washcloth from me, wiping a combination of cum and sweat from his abdominals. “Best hand job I’ve had all year,” he said with a sly look my way.

Seating myself on the side of the bed, I took the bait. “It’s March. How many have you had?”

A flick of Calisto’s wrist sent the washcloth flying to land perfectly on the corner of the bedside table. He collapsed back against the pillows, looking the picture of satiation. And while that should have bothered me with desire still roaring in my bloodstream and my cock begging for release, it didn’t. Not one jot. If I’d wanted to, I could have worked out a way to keep Calisto quiet while stroking both our cocks. But I hadn’t, happy to make it all about Calisto. Happy just to get to touch him, and to receive the gift of watching him orgasm.

“Not many,” he said, his expression saying it was even less than that but that he didn’t want to admit it. His gaze returned to my cock, all hints of his earlier shyness gone. “What are we going to do about that?”

“It’s nothing.” I jerked my head toward the bathroom I’d not long since come out of. “I can deal with it in there.”

Something about that idea amused Calisto, his eyes crinkling and his lips curving into a wide smile. It lasted a few seconds before he straightened his expression. “Oh, you’re serious. I thought…”

“You thought what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’re still getting to know each other.” He studied me for a few seconds, his gaze speculative. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“You could fuck me.”