“I’m being serious, Seb.”
“I’m well aware of who the detective is in this relationship.”
Calvin grunted.
The only murders I was trying to solve these days were in the paperbacks I’d read a dozen times already. I admit that hunting for clues and piecing a real-life mystery together was a thrill I could easily become addicted to, but in the end, I wasn’t one for violence. The thought of firing another gun in my lifetime was more than enough to rein me in.
We all have our strengths and should stick to what best suits us. Calvin was made to fight bad guys. It was in his DNA to be a hero, to save people, to solve crimes. Me? I’m a hoarder of information. I know the history of picture buttons and of Victorian mourning clothes. I know how to spot fake tin types. And I liked what I did.
Antiques suited my temperament just fine.
Besides. Solving crimes Calvin-style meant being extremely fit, and I was more of the second-slice-of-cake sort of guy.
AfterSherlock Jr., we watched Buster Keaton’sCops, which got quite a number of laughs from Calvin. We were about halfway throughSteamboat Bill, Jr.when the effects of greasy food, beers, and a dark room began to get the best of me. I felt Calvin pet my head and I opened my eyes.
“Want to go to bed?”
“Did I fall asleep?” I asked in return, yawning.
“Dozed off.”
I blinked a few times and sat up from where I had been leaning against Calvin’s shoulder. The sound of heavy rain could be heard over the slapstick music.
Calvin reached for the remote and turned the film off. “Come on.”
I nodded, got to my feet, and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take out my contacts. When I came out again, Calvin had already turned off the lights and locked up for the night. I went into my bedroom and changed for bed while he took his turn in the bathroom.
We definitely weren’t living together, but Calvin did prefer to spend what little time he had at my place instead of vice versa. My apartment was bigger, for one, but I think, more importantly, it had a homey feel. My place was well lived-in, whereas Calvin’s felt like a glorified hotel room. And because he tried to spend at least an evening or two a week with me, a few extra garments had found their way into my closet.
It was always a bit exciting to see one of his suits hung up beside my crappy sweaters. It was an ever-present reminder that Calvin wasn’t a vivid hallucination. He was real, he was wonderful, and he wanted to be withme.
I yawned again, plugging my phone into the charger and beginning to set the alarm clock when Calvin walked in. I glanced over, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it into my dirty laundry. Strong muscles flexed as he continued undressing, and I realized it’d been nearly a week since I’d gotten to dig my fingers into his back and arms.
Calvin sat on the right side of the bed—his side—before leaning over and kissing the back of my neck. “Lay down,” he whispered.
“What time do you need to be up?” I countered, hand still on the alarm clock.
“Worry about it later,” Calvin said, trailing a hand down my back and under the ratty T-shirt I’d thrown on.
“Copy that, Major,” I answered, hastily setting my glasses aside and turning to face him.
He rolled onto his back, wrapped a hand around my neck, and tugged me toward him. I climbed on top, legs on either side of Calvin’s hips, and leaned down to kiss his mouth. I moved my hands up and down his bare chest, fingertips practically buzzing as they caressed warm skin and hair. Calvin’s own hands moved along my back as he kissed me, then slid down to cup my ass.
“I want to suck your cock,” Calvin growled.
“Yeah?” I whispered.
He grinned against my mouth. “Yeah, baby. Come up here.”
I nodded and sat up, letting Calvin help me out of my pajama pants and toss them somewhere in the dark. I moved to rest my knees on either side of Calvin’s chest, leaning over him. “Like this?”
He hummed in contentment, reaching up to stroke me slowly. “Look at how big and beautiful. I want your entire dick down my throat.”
It was a good thing it was dark, otherwise Calvin was sure to see I was blushing like an idiot. He was so sexy, everything he said and did turned me on to no end, but he’d been trying to get me to reciprocate with the dirty talk lately and I failed miserably at it. When a hot and horny mountain of a cop tells you to beg for his cock, you beg. But really, what exactly was he begging for when I tried?
“Sebastian?”
I shook my head. “What?”
