12. Callum Maslow

Chapter 12

Callum Maslow

A s soon as we stepped into my apartment we were greeted by the thick scent of paint.

Sekani flicked on the light and I took in the studio that was my home. It was filled with sketchbooks, canvases, paint, brushes.

There was a folding screen dividing the room, almost hiding a dresser and bed. A small, cluttered table was pushed against the wall near the kitchen. In the center of the room sat a stool and an easel with a half-finished painting.

“This is my house—my home,” I said. There were so many paintings on the walls and even more piled in corners. A wall had been dedicated to pictures of me with my friends and family. Hundreds of smiling people, all collaged together.

This was my life?

And someone had taken it from me.

“We did use the keys we got from your mother to unlock the door,” Sekani teased. I smiled but still poked my tongue out at him. “Do you recognize anything?”

I walked towards the canvas on the easel and touched a wide black streak on the painting. It was out of place and . . . wrong. “I was yelling at someone while I was painting. I got madder the longer we spoke because I would have to start over.”

It was ruined and I had put so much work into what I had already done.

“What were you yelling about?” Sekani asked.

I sat down on the stool in front of the painting and closed my eyes. “In the beginning, the art thief. I was upset because it was so obvious it was my work.” I shook my head. “But then it was about something else.”

Let someone else win for once .

I pressed my palms into my eyes as I frowned.

Someone had said that to me. I couldn’t remember who .

Let someone else win what ?

“I’m gonna poke around. Why don’t you paint some?”

I glanced over. “I’m going to be really mad if you find that rainbow dildo.”

Mostly I would just be embarrassed.

“Why? Scared I’m gonna throw it away? I can always pack it in a bag to take with you when we leave,” Sekani teased.

Once more, I was beyond thankful that I couldn’t blush. If I could, my face would be on fire.

Even if he took it with us, what was I going to do with it? Use it? When? His house was crowded and I didn’t think it would be appropriate.

Though, I was starting to think I wasn’t the kind of guy who cared about what was appropriate. My keychain was covered in brightly colored dicks, after all.

“Maybe you should.” I bit my lip. Why did I say that?

Sekani made it clear early on he wasn’t into ghosts and even if I had a body, I wasn’t inside of it. In fact, I was dying, so sooner rather than later I would probably actually be a ghost if we didn’t figure out why I wasn’t . . . me.

The kiss hardly counted.

Sekani laughed and looped his arm around my neck, squeezing me for half a second before he released me. “Anything else you want to take, Ghost Boy?”

“I’ll let you know if I remember anything.” Though . . . if I was remembering correctly there was a whole box of sex toys in the back of my closet. I didn’t think that was the kind of thing I was supposed to share.

Sekani started to search my house for clues as I set up a new canvas.

“Hey, Callum,” he called, a barely suppressed laugh in his voice, sometime later. I paused. “I think I found more than your rainbow dildo.”

I scrambled off the stool. He was in my closet and . . . there was the box. I groaned as I dropped my face in my hands. “Don’t judge me.”

“Not even a little bit? ‘Cause these are handcuffs,” Sekani said, holding up a pair of black leather cuffs connected by a silver chain.

“You were a cop. You never cuffed a guy before?” I tried to snatch them out of his hands but he pulled them away before I could. “Fine.” I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “My safe word is penguin.”

He chuckled and twisted the cuffs around his index finger. The smug grin suited him more than I was ever going to admit. It really was unfair he wasn’t into ghosts because right now I was really into him. “Ever been handcuffed by a cop?”

“Once,” I said as I bit my cheek. “But that was for a drunk and disorderly.”

“I’ve used my cuffs for their unintended purpose a few times.”

I smiled and took a step toward him. “And here I was picturing you as the straight-laced kind of guy—in the dark, under the blankets, face to face.”

Really, I should have known better.

Sekani had a strong moral code and strong opinions. He wasn’t scared to do the right thing in the face of disapproval, but he wasn’t scared to bend the rules when necessary either.

Plus, how vanilla can a guy who talks to ghosts be?

Sekani grabbed my shoulder, turned me around, shoved me against the wall, and hooked the cuffs around my wrists.

I wheezed as he pressed against my back. His heat seeped through my clothes and—oh God. Was he hard? Because I was.

His breath was warm on my ear as he stroked my arm. “I’m not sure anyone has ever mistaken me for straight, Ghost Boy.”

“Sekani,” I whined. I hadn’t been hard once since I became a ghost, not even when we kissed, and now my body was throbbing.

Was it even possible to come as a ghost?

“What?” He tugged on the chain that linked the two cuffs. I shook my head, unable to form a response. “Anything else in this closet you might not want me to find?”

“A box of fun,” I huffed.

It was the same box he’d found the cuffs in though.

“Sounds a little like the box I already found.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” His mouth was warm as he pressed a kiss to my neck. “I’ve got questions. Which toy in that box is your favorite?”

His hand wrapped around my waist and I swallowed as he rubbed my hard cock through my jeans. It was him, so of course I could feel it and—fuck!

My fingers flexed behind my back. I wanted to touch him but I couldn’t so I settled for thrusting against his hand.

He laughed under his breath and I dropped my head against the wall. Was he just fucking with me?

“Please . . .”

What was I saying please for? What did I want him to do?

“Is this okay?” He popped the button on my jeans and pulled the zipper down. I didn’t need oxygen but I panted anyway as I nodded. “I need your words, Callum.”

“Yes. Yes. Touch me, Sekani,” I begged, and he slid his hands into my jeans, freeing my cock.

Heat built at the base of my spine as he pumped me from root to tip. It felt so good.

How long had it been since someone touched me? Did this only feel good because it had been so long? Or maybe he wasn’t just touching my body but . . . more—my soul.

“Sekani. That . . . It feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”

I was going to come.

There was no way I could stop myself as I thrust into his dry fist. He was applying just the right amount of pressure, squeezing me just how I liked as he teased my slit with his thumb.

It was a little unfair I wasn’t touching him back but sometimes the act of touching another person, giving them pleasure, was pleasure within itself.

“You gonna come for me, Callum?” Sekani whispered in my ear.

“Yes,” I gasped as I leaned into him. He supported my weight, twisting his fingers around my cock. “Sekani . . . Sekani, I . . . I’m gonna?—”

The heat that had built along my spine exploded outwards in waves as I pumped into his fist. There was no mess but it felt like an orgasm all the same and I sank against him, aftershocks rolling through my body one after another.

“Good?” he asked once I caught my breath.

I nodded and he unhooked the handcuffs. Once my arms were free, I turned to face him. He wore a warm smile as he tucked my cock away and fixed my jeans.

“What about you?” Did he not . . . want to?

Sekani leaned in, brushing his mouth against mine in a barely-there kiss. “Maybe later. You go paint while I keep snooping.”

“Are . . . Are you sure?” I bit my bottom lip.

Did he not want me to touch him because I was a ghost—sorta, anyway—and it wasn’t his kink?

If that was the case, why did he touch me?