by Jay Hogan
He grinned. “Rock-star mouth, huh?”
I narrowed my gaze. “Yeah, you heard me. But save me from the details of exactly how you got to be so damn good. I might have to take names and go arrest some people.”
This time he laughed, reaching down to cup my butt and arch into my hips. He was hard again, we both were, but I figured he was probably on his limit for a number of reasons.
“Mmmm. I like the feel of that,” I said, wiggling my hips a little to emphasise my point. “But how ’bout we take this to the shower, then I really should be getting home.”
He nodded. “You, ah… wanna stay?” He sounded nervous.
My stomach did a little flippy thing, part nerves, part something else. Something that had a fair bit to do with this being new territory for me. I didn’t do sleepovers if I could avoid it, ever. But with Drake I was so there. “You sure?”
Another nod, though the anxiety was still there. “But I won’t be offended if you don’t. Or you can bunk down on the couch… if you’d rather.” His gaze drifted to my ear, where he was winding a lock of hair around his finger.
I took his chin and drew those rich coffee eyes back to mine. “I’d love to stay, Drake Park. In this bed, you in my arms? Hell. Fucking. Yeah.”
The delight and relief in his eyes were unmistakable.
I kissed his lips, then pushed myself off the bed. “Come on, sweet pea. Let’s hit the shower.”
He glared. “Oh no. You did not just call me that.” Throwing a leg over the side, he rolled off the bed, and I took the opportunity to slap that delicious butt as he did. He pulled up short and spun to face me, his gaze heated, his cock… well look at that… fully attentive. Huh. I banked that little discovery for another time.
Grabbing my shoulder, he pushed me ahead into the bathroom. “I can see I need to keep your hands busy, detective,” he said, getting his own quick grope from behind. “And I may have the perfect solution. Your hand, two cocks, and a fast track to bliss.”
I turned to steal a quick kiss. “You read my mind.”
Chapter Eleven
Caleb
THE EARLY-MORNING sun streamed through the window over Drake’s bed, lighting up the soft green-and-grey palette of the room with a golden edge. The temperature had cranked up a notch or two to lie just south of true summer heat, leaving a gloriously naked Drake splayed face down across the sheets, still asleep, exposed and basking in its warmth. And I was nowhere even close to complaining about waking up to that sight.
The guy was gorgeous. Miles of soft olive skin, the elegant curve of his shoulders, the inviting rise of his arse all there for the pleasure of touching and tasting, though at the moment I was content to simply relax and enjoy the splendid view while my body woke up.
He groaned softly in his sleep, shuffled closer, and lifted a thigh over mine, his arm coming to rest on my chest. That silky head of hair was now within easy reach, and I buried my nose just a little in its gloss, something I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of. He smelled of lime from his body wash, morning musk, and the heady scent of sex. I couldn’t get enough. After wrapping my arm around him, I trailed a hand down his back, circling each vertebra while I nuzzled his hair, listening to his slow, even breathing.
He was such a puzzle. One minute a force to be reckoned, bossy, defensive, and demanding, and the next, unsure and adorably vulnerable. It was a heady mix and I knew I was falling fast. Five weeks since I’d met him, and I was so gone over this guy it was embarrassing.
It shocked me on so many levels, and part of me was still waiting to run scared. To feel all those familiar signs of panic when any guy got too close to me, but so far, nothing. Maybe because we were taking it slow or maybe simply because it was Drake. The man sure as shit seemed to have woven some spooky spell over me, not that I cared.
Last night had been fucking awesome, and we hadn’t even taken it the whole way. I might have sounded all gentlemanly about being quite happy with just snuggling in bed, but that sure as hell wasn’t my usual MO. I liked to switch things up on occasion, but mostly I just liked to fuck, any way I could get it. But I hadn’t lied to Drake. I really hadn’t cared what we did or if we did anything at all, and that was the truly crazy thing about all this.
I almost didn’t recognise this sappy guy I became when I was with him. I hadn’t known that guy existed and still wasn’t sure what I thought about that version of me. At times it made me feel too itchy in my own skin, too uncertain, too… vulnerable—and there’s that word again. I knew it didn’t mean that version of me wasn’t real, only that it wasn’t… familiar. It also wasn’t… safe. There, I’d said it. I didn’t feel safe being exposed this way, but I was guessing he didn’t either, and that made it kind of okay.
“I can hear you thinking from here.” Drake planted a soft kiss on my chest. “Morning-after regrets?” His tone was light but the uncertainty behind the question was there.
“Not one.” I tilted his chin up so I could see his eyes. “You?”
He rolled to lie fully atop me, propped on his elbows. His arousal brushed against my own and a groan escaped my lips. “Jesus, Drake. Do you have anywhere to be? ’Cause I have all kinds of filthy thoughts running through my mind right at this moment.” I cupped his arse and drew him hard onto me.
“Ugh.” He wiggled his hips deliciously. “Nowhere but here. And do that again.”
I rocked him hard against me.
“Yes. Just. Like. That.” He dropped his legs between mine and started up a slow grind.
My head fell back into the pillow, eyes closed, focus solely on the friction point between us as the fire he kindled grew and spread.
“Look at me,” he said and pulled on my lower lip with his teeth.
I did, drawn into that molten gaze just inches from my own.
“Keep it there, detective. I wanna watch every second.”
“You won’t be waiting long.” I huffed.
“Good.”
“Hellllloooo? Drake?” A woman’s voice rang through the townhouse.
“Fuck.” Drake sprang to his knees, his fully engorged dick bobbing in protest as he scrambled for his clothes.
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Drake?” I kept my voice low.
His mother? Holy fucking shit.
He threw a sheet over me and stumbled into his jeans, missing one leg and collapsing onto the floor in a heap. “Goddammit.”
“She just comes in like that?”
He pulled a T-shirt over his head, and just for a second, I considered telling him he had it the wrong way around, but thought better of it. I wasn’t stupid.
“Well, it’s not like I have sleepovers on a regular basis, is it? Now get your arse into some clothes… please?” Tugging at the zip on his jeans, he caught his thumb and yelped. “Dammit to hell. Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker.”
“Duck? Have you got company? I can just leave….”
The eye roll he gave nearly dropped those sweet chocolate orbs down the back of his T-shirt. “Fuck.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly in an effort to compose himself, and I watched, unsure what he wanted from me. Hide or meet his mother. I knew what I’d prefer.
“It’s fine. I’ll be out in a minute,” he yelled. “Just, um… stay out there and, ah… put the kettle on, yeah? Three cups.”
Well that answered that, and my own set of butterflies took flight.
Drake finally noticed his T-shirt and swore. I would’ve left it as is, but no; he ripped it off and started again, almost making the same mistake twice. Unable to choke back my laughter any longer, I went over and pulled his hands away.
“Here, let me.” I held the T-shirt out as if I were dressing a child. He glared but said nothing, simply putting his arms through the holes.
“And don’t think I won’t be staring at your arse, knowing you’re going commando in those jeans,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his decidedly irritated frown. “Just saying.”
He scowled with enough acid to strip paint. “You do anything to get me hard, and I’ll fuck you up good. Understand?”
I waggled my eyebrows. “No promises.”
“Laugh it up, mister. But my humiliation will be family dinner table fodder for the foreseeable future, and guess what, that means you as well. My brother’s gonna laugh his arse off. He’s finally off the hook from his stag do, gay bar stripper fiasco.”
“His what? Oh man, I gotta hear that story.”
Drake growled.
I buttoned up quick. “But maybe not now. And no erection-inducing comments, innuendo, or touching, scout’s honour.”
“And none of those looks, especially those looks.” He scowled. “Like that one right there, stop it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I leered.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He stepped in and placed a fierce kiss on my lips “Just get dressed and join us in the damn kitchen, you sexy fuck.”
I managed a swat to his annoyed, gorgeous little butt before he got to the door. I laugh in the face of danger.
Drake
I LOVE my mother to bits, but holy shit, her timing is all to hell. I wasn’t worried she’d be upset. I was a grown-arse man, and she’d been on my case for ages about my nonexistent dating life. She never liked Jared and had some choice words to say about him when all that shit blew up, but prior to that, she’d kept her opinions to herself.
No, I was more concerned she’d become overinvested in any man I did start seeing, and I needed that in my life like a drag queen’s tuck. But asking Caleb to hide wasn’t an option, and surprisingly I didn’t want to. Unexpectedly, he also seemed on board with the whole meet-the-mother little shindig we had going on. Amused by it, if anything. Fucker.
In the kitchen I kissed my mother hello, exchanged pleasantries, and dropped the bombshell about my overnight “guest.” She did a piss-poor job hiding both her delighted smile and the fact her eyes were bugging out of her skull with curiosity.
“Be nice,” I warned as she set about making tea for everyone. “And Caleb will have a coffee,” I said. “The real stuff.”
She reached into the cupboard, her eyes dancing with mischief. “When am I ever not nice?” Then more seriously. “How long?”
I shrugged. “Only a couple of weeks so don’t start writing wedding invitations. And you, ah, might recognise him.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Really? How very interesting.”
“Don’t start,” I warned.
Her innocent smile was laced with intent. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. On another note, you feeling good, health-wise?”
There wasn’t much my mother didn’t know about Crohn’s and all its ramifications, though she did a good job of not snooping, mostly. “Pretty good. We’re just, ah, taking it slow, if that’s what you mean. Now enough of the embarrassing interrogation about my sex life, I―”
“Ooooh, did I miss something?” Caleb’s wide smile lit up the whole kitchen… or maybe that was just me. He turned my way and winked lasciviously to let me know he’d overheard everything.
My mother offered her hand and they shook. “I’m Alison, Drake’s mum, and I’ve been told to be nice to you.” Her eyes twinkled and Caleb laughed. “We were just talking about…”
“Don’t.” I glared at my mother, who bit back a smile.
“… what you like to drink,” she finished. “Coffee, right?
Caleb’s eyes crinkled up at the corners adorably. “Yes, thanks. I know Drake drinks tea, but I find the hard stuff gets me going in the morning.” He glanced pointedly my way and my dick twitched at the innuendo. Bastard. My look fired daggers back, none of which seemed to land anywhere near the man’s sense of shame, if he even had one.
“Noted,” my mother answered dryly. “My husband would agree with you, detective.”
Holy shit. My mother did not just say that. Oh, for crying out loud. It was like they’d shared some secret handshake while I hadn’t been looking.
“Mum, please.” I grabbed some plates from the cupboard above her head, making sure to get a warning elbow to her ribs while I was at it.
“Ow. What was that for?” She immediately threw me under the bus.
I glared at her. “Caleb doesn’t need to hear anything about your sex life, and frankly, neither do I. Can we at least pretend to be normal, just for a bit or until you’ve known him more than three minutes, at least?”
She turned and patted my cheek. “Whatever you say, dear. Now set the table, we can at least be civilised.” She turned to Caleb. “I am right that it was you on the video… arresting Drake?”
Caleb blushed to the roots of his hairline and simply nodded. “Unfortunately.”
Yeah. Not so funny when the boot’s on the other foot, is it? I sent him a gloating smirk.
My mother grinned. “Well, you may not have met otherwise, right? So it wasn’t all bad.” She busied herself setting out the drinks. “Can you put the scones from that box out for us, please?” she directed Caleb.
He obeyed meekly, arranging the temptations from my favourite organic bakery on a plate, and I made a note to ask why he never jumped like that when I asked… except of course he did… on occasion. My mind instantly replayed the highlight reel from last night, of course it did.
As if he’d read my mind, Caleb winked and bit his bottom lip and… fuck… just like that I was sporting a semi. I drilled him with a glare and mouthed the words “Just you wait.” He replied by blowing me a kiss at the exact time my mother decided to turn around with the hot drinks on a tray.
She smirked but said nothing. “Right, boys. Let’s get some food in you. And while we eat, I want to hear all about you, Caleb, and why it’s taken until now to hear my son has a boyfriend?”
“Mum, we haven’t….”
Caleb grabbed my hand. “Yes, boyfriend, let’s do that.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline.
Caleb laughed and turned to my mother. “He took a bit of convincing, but I wore him down.”
My mother smirked. “I just bet you did.” She patted Caleb’s hand. “I want every delicious detail, young man.”
I groaned loud enough to be heard somewhere west of Sydney and slumped in a chair, resigned to my imminent humiliation. Wearing a grin from ear to ear, Caleb pulled the chair out for my mother, who damn near purred in delight. The man was like catnip.
On his way past me to his chair, Caleb leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re naked as a jaybird under those sexy-as-fuck jeans.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek and took his seat, sliding a sexy foot up my calf. I flashed him a glare, which he promptly ignored.
Ugh. It was just as well I was sitting, or my mother would’ve had front row tickets to something she hadn’t seen since she’d caught me jerking off in the bathroom when I was sixteen. I was gonna kill Caleb… right after I nailed him to the fucking mattress.
A WEEK but possibly only forty minutes later my mother finally left, taking the last shred of my dignity in her handbag. I fell back on the closed door with a heavy sigh and narrowed my gaze at my boyfriend currently grinning at me from the kitchen.
“You can wipe that damned smile off your face, ’cause you are in so much trouble, detective.”
In answer he strode down the hall and caged me in against the door. “How much trouble are we talking about here?” He nibbled at my lower lip and then headed south down my neck, rendering me temporarily incapable of speech.
“This much trouble?” He shoved my shirt over my head and made a beeline for my nipples, tonguing and nipping them while his hand travelled farther south.
“Or this much?” He dealt with my zipper and dropped my jeans to the floor, wrapping a hand around my rock-hard dick.
“Nah, I’ve been a bad, bad boy, so it has to be this much, right?” He fell to his knees and took my dick in that wicked mouth of his, straight down the back of his throat.
“Holy shit.” My head slammed back against the door as I scrambled for purchase, my hands burying themselves in his hair. “Jesus, Caleb. Fuck.”
He pulled off and stared up at me, pupils blown, saliva dripping down his chin, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. “My thought exactly. We have unfinished business. Now take what you need, gorgeous.” He poised his mouth over the head of my dick, relaxed his throat, and waited.
One look and my libido fired right through the roof, and I didn’t need a second invite. Threading my fingers through his longer hair on the top, I tipped his head back and gave a few trial thrusts.
“Eyes on me,” I ordered, quickly finding a depth and rhythm that seemed to suit us both, and within an embarrassingly short period of time, I found myself teetering on the edge. When he grabbed his own cock out of his jeans and began to stroke himself off, it was all over, and I was gone, flying apart. He joined me seconds later, both our gazes still locked on the other as the waves of sensation pulsed into boneless content.
He swallowed every mouthful, then buried his face against my stomach. I cradled his head, then slid down the door to join him on the floor before hauling him into my arms. “Holy hell, Caleb. I think you just broke me.”
He laughed, the warm air brushing my sensitive nipples. “I aim to please.” He crawled up my body to nestle his face in my neck. “Your mother’s a hoot, by the way.”
“Nuh-uh, no,” I said firmly. “My mother’s name is never to be mentioned in the throes of postorgasmic bliss or, what did you call it… dissonance… ever. Do I make myself clear?”
He nodded vigorously, his teeth working on a hickey whose size I suspected would give Russia a run for its money. “Quit that. I have clients to consider.”
“Of course,” he mumbled and did no such thing. But a few seconds later, a thundering knock at the door stopped him in his tracks.
