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“Then we’ll go for sure.”
Oliver smiled, eyes still closed.
“What got you into this detective work, Beck? Into chasing down thugs and rescuing little princesses like me.”
“I got into it for the princesses of course.”
Oliver opened his eyes and looked to me. I shot him a wink. “It was a friend of mine who got me started. He had an agency and offered to sponsor my stay in the States by working for him. He taught me everything I knew, and he passed on his love for investigating to me. I was twenty-three when he hired me, I think. The youngest detective in all of Miami, and soon enough, I was also the one closing the most cases.”
“I believe that.”
“It was exactly what I needed in my life. Before Gio took me under his wing, I was floating around aimlessly. Fucking guys in bathroom stalls and dodgy hiking trails, just wanting to pass the time somehow. I didn’t really have a purpose.”
“I’m glad you found it. And I’m glad your purpose is to help so many other people.” Oliver’s fingers danced up and down my arm, sending warm chills down my back.
I closed the distance between us and found his lips with mine. We kissed, long enough for the driveway light to click off, plunging us into the dark. An undeniable heat was building between my legs, my dick twitching in response.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go inside. I need to get washed up. Can’t believe I’m still wearing my kickball uniform.”
“I love it,” Oliver said as we got out of the car. He gave me a cheeky little slap on the ass when we got to my front door.
My dick twitched even harder.
Inside my place, I could barely wait to get my lips back on his. I kissed him, hard, pressing him back against the closed door. I held his head in both my hands as my tongue probed his mouth, claiming it for myself.
My cock gave a hard throb between us.
“All right, get comfortable. I’m going to take a quick shower.”
Oliver, looking only a little disappointed and very turned on, went over to the large chair next to the couch, sitting down and covering the bold stripes of blue, pink, and white.
I left him there and hurried to the bathroom where I took one of the quickest showers of my life, focusing on all the important bits and hopping back out in record time. I wrapped the white towel around my waist and glanced in the mirror.
For a man turned freshly forty, I had to say, I looked bloody good. My chest and shoulders were defined with muscle, and my stomach was toned in a way that almost hinted at a six-pack if I were standing exactly right under the light. My cock, hanging heavy between my legs, was clearly visible, outlined through the towel.
I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up a bit, and stepped out into the hall.
Oliver was sitting in the chair when I reentered the living room. He looked so relaxed, scrolling through his phone with one leg up on the chair, one hand behind his head. He wore shades of blue which worked to make his eyes pop like diamonds on display. I shot him a glance with a smile attached and walked toward the kitchen to grab some water. That’s when I spotted something that piqued my interest.
And piqued something else along with it.
“Your zipper’s open,” I noted, my eyes dropping to the glint of gold coming from his crotch. My blood shot up in temperature.
“Oh?” Oliver, that cheeky bastard, looked down and, with a devilish grin, slipped his hand through the opening. “I didn’t notice.” He looked up at me, lips parting ever so slightly. Enough for me to imagine my tongue slipping in.
I didn’t want to imagine it for much longer. I went to him and bent down, grabbing his head in my hands and claiming his mouth with a kiss that rocked the very ground beneath me.
I gasped, as did he.
I moved a hand down to his crotch, feeling him as he stroked himself underneath the fabric of his shorts. His heat radiated off him. He squeezed his legs together, moaning into my kiss as he pushed his hips up, rubbing himself harder on my hand.
The kiss broke. I moved back, Oliver still sitting on my chair, one leg up on the seat, his hand jerking slowly inside his shorts. His other hand was resting on his neck, which was growing pink from the fire that pricked at his skin from the inside. The same fire that crawled through my veins as I watched him.
“Take those shorts off. I want to watch you jerk off.”
Oliver didn’t need any more direction. He cocked his head, smiling, and unbuttoned the shorts. He pulled them off, revealing a pair of white Calvins that looked as if they were about to split apart. His tip leaked, soaking the fabric and causing a dark and delicious stain to spread.
