“Reminds me of Ethan Cohen,” I whispered.
“Reminds you—what?”
“My first hand job.”
“On this couch?”
“Yep.”
“With Ethan Cohen,” Calvin stated.
“He was in twelfth grade. I was in eleventh.”
“Let’s not talk about someone else touching your dick.”
“No reason to be jealous. He was terrible at it. Chafing.”
Calvin snorted. He was trying not to laugh.
I smiled and put my head back down against him, tracing his nipple with my fingertip. “First and last time I had Ethan on this couch.”
Calvin reached for my hand, raised it up, and gently kissed each finger. His warm, soft lips against my skin sent gentle currents of pleasure through me. “I’m glad it didn’t work out.” He kissed the inside of my wrist and nipped it lightly.
I shivered. I wanted to kiss Calvin. I wanted to kiss him more in that moment than I had in every second of our lives together so far. Sitting up, stuck between his arm and body, I leaned over and put my hand on his cheek. Tilting his face in my direction, I moved down to claim his mouth.
Like an Olympic athlete receiving the gold.
Victory was sweet.
CHAPTER FIVE
I WOKEup when I rolled off the couch and smacked the floor. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered. A pillow fell down on my head and the blankets were twisted around my feet.
Maggie padded across the floor from nearby and snorted against the pillow.
“No,” I told her, blindly putting my hand out to stop her vicious, slobbering tongue.
“You okay?” Calvin’s inquiry was followed by calling for Maggie, who immediately left my side in his favor.
“Fine,” I said against the floor.
“I’m making breakfast, kiddo,” Pop called from a bit farther away. “Up and at ’em.”
I sat up, groping around the coffee table for my glasses. When I could see, the living room was dim, curtains still closed against the oncoming morning. Dad was puttering around the kitchen, and Calvin was staring at me over the top of the couch.
“Did you sleep much?” Calvin asked.
I shrugged.
He nodded. So we were in agreement on that.
Quinn hadn’t found the extra pair of pajamas I kept at Calvin’s, so when I got up from the floor, I was wearing my underwear from yesterday and nothing else. I reached down, picked up the blanket, and wrapped myself up in it as Pop turned around.
He made a face, arm poised with a spoon covered in, I think, pancake batter. “Oh please. I was there the day your bare butt graced this world.”
“Dad,” I said firmly, feeling my cheeks get warm.
He motioned the spoon at Calvin. “Sebastian used to run around this house without a single piece of clothing on. Summer, winter, didn’t matter. I was at wit’s end trying to keep that boy in a pair of underwear.”
