19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Michael

Callum's reading had freaked me out, not gonna lie.

The worried look on his face while he had read the cards hadn't helped me to not freak out.

When my condo manager had called later that day to let me know tenants were being allowed back into our units, we had picked an evening that worked best with Callum's schedule to head into the city.

Since he'd had bookings the next couple of days, and needed to catch up on online orders, we'd chosen Thursday. Callum had questioned the odds of finding my spell casting twink in a club on a Thursday night, but I'd just snorted.

"I've seen him there pretty much any day of the week I was," I explained, watching as he flipped the shirts hanging in his closet with a snap of his wrist.

He looked at me over his shoulder, his nose wrinkled adorably. "Who goes out on a Thursday night? Don't people need to work the next day?"

Laughing at him, I idly stroked Hex's back, feeling the rumble of his purr under my hand. "People go out every night of the week. It was a Sunday when he and I hooked up."

Callum stared at me horrified, before turning back to rifling through his closet. "I have nothing to wear to a club. Can't I just wear a t-shirt or something?"

"No." Getting up, I gently moved him out of the way, then started my own flicking of the hangars. Stopping on an emerald green, long sleeved dress shirt, I held it out to him. "This one. It's going to make your eyes pop."

He pushed his glasses up, reluctantly taking the shirt. "No one can see my eyes through my glasses."

I gave him an incredulous look. "Do you really think that?"

He shrugged, but didn't respond.

"Callum, trust me, everyone can see your eyes and they are stunning." Snorting, I went back to looking for a pair of pants for him to wear. "It's not like you're wearing dark sunglasses." Finding a pair of black jeans, I handed them to him. "We can get changed at my place. I don't have anything suitable for clubbing here anyway."

"What time do we need to leave?" he asked from where he had dramatically flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It went without saying that the only reason Callum was even entertaining the idea of going out to a club, in Boston, was to try to help me. It was obvious he would rather stay home and do literally anything else.

Bending over him, I kissed his cheek. "Like six or seven. I'd rather avoid some of the evening rush hour if possible."

"Oh my God, what time are you planning for us to go to this club?"

Biting my lip to hold back my laughter, I leaned up on my elbow to stare down at him. "Nine or ten. Any earlier and there won't be that many people there. We have a better chance of finding him if we go later."

Though, to be honest, I felt the chances of us actually finding the guy were pretty slim. And I was fine if we didn't. Callum's family would be back on Sunday. Another few days wasn't going to make that much difference. Besides, I felt relatively safe tucked away inside the Turner house, bound to Callum. Spending my days with Callum, watching him interact with the customers that came in, even helping him fill the online orders, was occupying my time. I knew it wouldn't satisfy me long-term, the need to practice law lived inside me like a living thing. But for now, the short break from work had been nice .

Surprisingly, I hadn't missed work as much as I thought I would. In fact, I had hardly missed it at all. I would skim my emails daily, but the urge to respond to most of them was sadly lacking.

Derek had been texting me steadily, keeping me updated on anything moving on the Marcone case. He'd let it slip that Shelby wasn't happy about it being assigned to her in my absence. She felt it was way too high profile for her and was doing her level best to stall any warrants from being signed off on until I was back in the office, and she could hand it back to me.

Marcone was dangerous and needed to be taken off the streets and locked away. But Shelby wasn't the lawyer to do that. Honestly, I doubted I would end up being the lawyer to do it either. Marcone's dirty hands were in all the pies; drugs, prostitution, gambling, and suspected human trafficking. If we managed to bring any charges against him that actually stuck, it wouldn't surprise me if the Feds swooped in and took all the credit.

Shaking off thoughts of Francesco Marcone, I focused on Callum's frowning face, pushing back a lock of hair that had flopped onto his forehead. "We don't need to do this," I told him softly. "We can drive into the city, and I can pick up some clothes, and we can come back. Maybe have a nice dinner somewhere. But we don't need to go looking for this guy. "

His green eyes were troubled through the glass of his lenses. "No, I think we really do need to do this. It's just…"

"A feeling?"

He sighed, "Yeah."

"Okay, but if we don't find him, we just wait until Daphne gets home. Deal?"

Still looking uneasy, he reluctantly agreed, pulling me down for a sweet kiss.

Chuckling softly, I kept a tight hold on Callum's hand as I bypassed the crowd waiting to get into the nightclub I frequented way too often.

His eyes were wide as he took in the scene, almost as wide as they had been when I'd led him into my condo. We'd both been changing, after I had stuffed some clothes in an overnight bag, when I had asked what he thought of my place.

He took a minute to answer, finally landing on, "It's nice. A bit…cold."

Looking around my modern home, all sleek lines, and grays and blacks, I realized he was right. My place was shiny and expensive, but it lacked something the Turner household had, with their eclectic pieces of furniture and colorful throw blankets tossed everywhere.

"That's a long line," Callum mumbled, clinging to my hand tightly. He looked sexy in the black jeans and green button up, his hair messily styled, and I didn't miss the appreciative looks that fell his way.

"We're not standing in it," I told him, a bit smugly. Nodding at the bouncer, he opened the roped-up area and we passed through, outraged shouts from the crowd behind us erupting. At his stunned expression, I winked, "I have some magic of my own."

"Mmm," was all he said as I paid for our covers and pulled him into the main area of the club. It was pretty packed for a Thursday, the dance floor crowded, tables full. But, as I'd explained to Callum, this particular queer club was popular and packed most nights.

"There's a lot of people in here," Callum's hand tightened on mine, and I stopped perusing the dance floor, looking for a familiar face in the crowd .

Turning to him, I pulled him closer, "You want to get a drink? Or we can try to find a table, away from the crowd."

"A drink would be good," he nodded.

Callum was three whiskey and cokes in, when I shook my head at the bartender, making a motion with my hand across my throat.

"Wha's that ‘bout?" Callum slurred, leaning all his body weight against me. Safe to say, I didn't think he drank hard alcohol very often. Since I was driving, I had stuck to water. I still hadn't seen a glimpse of my one-night stand.

"That was me cutting you off," I grinned down at his upturned flushed face. "Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning."

"Liquid courage," he shouted in my ear to be heard over the bass thumping from the DJ booth, even though he was close enough I could hear him just fine. "Still don't unde'stand why non..no…none of these people don't wanna stay home."

"It's a mystery," my lips twitched at his serious face.

"I like my house," he whisper shouted, leaning further into me and losing his balance. Catching him, I hauled him upright. "My house has ev'rything I need. My cat is there! And all…all…the…my things."

"You," I tapped the end of his nose with my finger, "are drunk."

"Not!" He sounded astonished at my observation. "Let's dance! "

With that declaration, Callum yanked me towards the dance floor, his arms gyrating wildly, his hips moving…well, his hips were definitely moving in an enticing way. His arms might have been out of control, but his hips knew what they were about.

The song switched to something slow and sultry, and I wrapped him in my arms, his back to my front. Holding his hips with my hands, we swayed sensually together, my groin pressed perfectly against the crease of his ass, encased in his sinfully tight jeans.

One of his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, while the other snaked up behind my neck, pulling me closer. He arched his own neck, offering it to me, and I wasn't about to say no.

Kissing behind his ear, I placed soft kisses down the column of his neck, sucking gently at the skin just above his collar. I had never been one to deliberately mark any of my sex partners, but seeing Callum with the mark I had left on his neck already this week caused something primal to erupt inside me every time I caught a glimpse of it.

Callum turned, his arms resting on my shoulders, and I pulled him flush against me. Our hard cocks rubbed against each other, and we both gasped. My lips found his in a hungry kiss, and for a few seconds as I explored his mouth, I forgot we were in the middle of a dance floor.

We were both breathless and panting when the kiss ended. Callum's lips were red and kiss swollen, glistening in the lowlights of the dance floor. His pupils were blown behind his glasses, the green of his eyes barely visible, his cheeks rosy.

Giving me a slow, sexy smirk, he pulled me down until he was close to my ear. "I want to blow you in the bathroom."

Fucking hell! Callum with a couple of drinks in him was wildly uninhibited!

"You are drunk," framing his face with my hands, I spoke slowly and clearly, never losing eye contact with him.

He shook his head, "I'm not that drunk. Not drunk enough I can't give consent, if that's what you're afraid of."

Indeed, he was no longer slurring his words. I didn't know if it was the dancing, me cutting him off, or just something inside his body that he was gifted with, but he didn't look as drunk as before.

"How did you sober up that fast?" I questioned, skeptical.

He shrugged, "Don't know. I thought wouldn't it be fun to give Michael a BJ in the bathroom, knock that off my bucket list, and then I just started feeling less tipsy."

Pulling him after me, off the dance floor, I headed towards the bathroom. Because yeah, I wasn't about to turn down what Callum was offering. Over my shoulder I called, "I want to know more about this bucket list of yours. Later. "

He smirked, holding tightly to my hand, his other hand clasping just above my wrist. Shockingly, there wasn't a line for the bathroom when we got there. Two guys were at the urinals, while the two stalls were empty. Pulling him towards one of the empty stalls, I halted when he tugged on my arm.

"What?"

"Wait." That sly look was back on his face, his green eyes gleaming mischievously. The last guy was washing his hands, and Callum followed after him as he pulled the door open. There were three or four guys on the other side, getting ready to come in and use the facilities. Callum shut the door in their stunned faces, turning the lock with a loud click.

Angry fists pummeled the door. "Motherfucker! You'd better make it quick!"

"Asshole! Some of us need to go!"

"You've got five minutes before I'm breaking this fucker down!"

Eyes wide, I cocked my head at him, my hands already working on my pants. Pulling my cock free, I smirked, "You heard them. You'd better make this quick."

He gave me a naughty grin aimed straight at my throbbing cock. "Challenge accepted."

Callum dropped to his knees in front of me in one fluid move, his hand grasping the base of my cock tightly, his lips parting and swallowing me down to the root .

"Holy fuck!" The shout escaped my mouth before I could stifle it, my eyes nearly crossing at the feeling of my dick being surrounded by the hot wetness of Callum's mouth. One hand hit the wall to steady myself, while my other tangled in his thick hair, guiding his head.

Not that he needed the guidance. He was doing just fine on his own.

Callum might have zero experience in nightclubs, but he gave head like a fucking pro.

It took him about two seconds to find his bobbing rhythm, his hands grasping both cheeks of my ass and pulling me forward. He sucked and slurped my length, spittle slipping down his chin. His eyes never left mine, and with a shaking hand I reached down and removed his glasses, placing them in the shirt pocket for safe keeping.

Legs spread wide, I fucked into his hungry mouth, moaning when he gagged, his gorgeous eyes tearing up, but he didn't pull back. In fact, he doubled his effort, sucking harder, his tongue running over my slit and the underside of my mushroom head, before he swallowed me down, down, down.

"Fuuuuckkk!"

His throat felt never ending, and then I was shooting straight down it, my hips jerking with uncoordinated movements .

Callum sucked me through my orgasm, his hands clenching and unclenching on my ass, as he swallowed every last drop he wrung out of me.

The pounding on the door intensified, the wood swaying with the force of the fists hitting it. Our five minutes were definitely up, though I didn't think he had gone much over the time limit. I had come shockingly, embarrassing fast.

Hauling him up by his arms, I kissed him deeply, tasting myself mixed with him. His nimble fingers tucked my flaccid cock back in my pants with a grin.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out his glasses and placed them gently on his face. "I don't think we're going to find what we came looking for, but I don't even care. Let's go home."

"To your place?" he asked, trying in vain to tame his hair from where I had tugged on it.

Entwining our fingers, I gave him another kiss, this one featherlight, barely brushing over his lips. "No, home. Your place."