Home and Away (30 page)

“Yes. I mean,
no
. I would never have touched him if I’d known that he would…that it would make him so…”

“Broken?”

Callum nodded miserably.

“I’m sorry that happened, Callum. To you. To him. But that man was probably quite broken before he set foot in that club, not by anything you did that night.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because your instinct is to protect. You would never hurt someone.”

“You haven’t known me that long.”

“That’s true, I suppose, but I think I know you well. And more than that, I know
me
.” Rupert said, his voice rough and soft. “I could never fall in love with a man who would hurt me.”

Callum squeezed his eyes shut, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Because that…that was nothing he deserved and everything he wanted. He was humbled and honored and so, so grateful that someone as beautiful and kind and smart as Rupert could feel that about
him
.

He kissed Rupert, his tears making it messier and better and worse than it should have been. He just couldn’t let go. He wanted to hold Rupert like this, close and warm, all night.

Rupert drew them down onto the bed, kissing him back. They weren’t going anywhere with it, mostly because they were right where they should be.
This
was right where he should be.

At some point they dozed, and a little after that, they made enough effort to climb from the bed and open the door in case the boys needed them, then to settle into the bed properly.

Callum couldn’t stop touching Rupert, a hand on him at all times. Rupert didn’t seem to mind, his smile soft, if a little rueful. Callum was totally out of his depth, but he could guess Rupert hadn’t come to bed that night intending to tell Callum he loved him.

Callum understood. Denver loomed closer every day, regardless of what Callum harbored in his own heart.

Rupert woke up the next morning feeling a bit like he’d been rolled under a truck—and not just because he’d spent the night with Callum sleeping half on top of him. Not that he was complaining. He’d needed that closeness. As had Callum, he’d venture.

Perhaps laying his heart out for Callum hadn’t been wise, but Callum had needed to know. Even if it wasn’t reciprocated, he’d needed to understand what he meant to Rupert—despite his horrific story and his sad history and the so-called life waiting for him in Denver, closet and all.

Rupert had no regrets. Not even that it made Callum cry. He found that oddly flattering, actually. If nothing else, it was evidence that Callum understood the importance of what Rupert had told him. And that the words had mattered, at some level.

A warm hand slid under his t-shirt, and he rolled his head to smile at Callum.

“Good morning,” Callum said with a shy smile. “You want the first shower?”

God, that sounded like heaven. Rupert leaned in and pressed his lips to Callum’s, saying good morning back with a long, sweet kiss.

“Eeww, are you guys always this cute together?”

Rupert laughed against Callum’s lips, then looked over his shoulder. “Good morning, Christian.”

Christian hovered by the door. “Is it okay? If I come in, I mean?”

Callum sat up against the headboard and shoved a few pillows behind him. “Sure. But just to warn you, sometimes we’re downright adorable.”

Christian padded over to the bed, then hesitated.

“Come on up,” Callum said, patting the bed. Then he threw a couple pillows at the footboard. “You can have that end, just so I can keep an eye on you.”

Christian rolled his eyes, failing to hide his smile as he fussed with his pillows and untucked the comforter so he could climb beneath.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye was all Rupert’s warning before Oliver was airborne and crashing into him.

“Good morning!” Oliver barely spared Rupert’s cheek a kiss then studied Christian for all of three seconds before grabbing his own pile of pillows and setting up his own spot across from Rupert. “This is nice. Can we eat breakfast in here?”

Rupert laughed. “Breakfast in bed?”

“Why not? It’s Saturday and we don’t have a single plan,” Callum said with a grin. “I’ll make you a deal. You go get your tablet so you can read the paper, and these two can go get a couple books, and I’ll get breakfast.” He looked around to see everyone nod, then clapped his hands once, loudly. “Ready, break!”

They all leaped from the bed and took off, Rupert laughing when Christian hip checked him out of the way to get through the door first.

“No fair! No hockey moves!”

“I can’t help it if I’m good,” came the retort from inside Christian’s bedroom.

In ten minutes, all four of them were back in bed, munching on bowls of fruit and dry cereal. Callum had made the grown-ups really excellent coffee with which Rupert was quietly communing while he watched the boys tussle for pieces of strawberry from each other’s bowls.

Christian caught him watching. “When can I have coffee?”

Rupert had no bloody idea. He looked at Callum, who shrugged then looked at Christian. “How about when you’re twenty?”

“Gah! Twenty? I should have guessed you two would be hard-ass dads!”

Rupert choked on his coffee, sputtering into his napkin and trying to catch his breath.

Callum calmly patted Rupert on the back with one hand and picked up his tablet with the other. “I take that as a compliment. And no swearing.”

Christian rolled his eyes, predictably.

Callum’s iPad chimed. He looked down at the screen and cringed.

“Uh, I have to take this. It’ll just be a sec,” Callum said in an apologetic tone, then he tapped the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Callum, sweetheart, how are you?”

Rupert opened his mouth before his brain fully engaged. “Holy smokes, she sounds exactly like Savannah.”

There was a pregnant pause, then Callum’s mother asked, “Darling, who was that?”

Callum turned a baleful eye on Rupert, which he could admit he probably deserved.

“That’s Rupert, Mom. He manages the Ice Cats, remember?”

“And he does this from your bed, while you’re in your pajamas?”

Callum groaned “
Mom!”
just as Christian burst into giggles.

“And who is
that
?” she asked, her voice climbing higher.

Callum was casting baleful looks in every direction, now. “
That
is Christian.” He turned the tablet so Christian could wave to Mrs. Morrison with a cheeky grin.

“Nice to meet you, Christian. And who are you, young man?”

“I’m Oliver. Rupert’s brother.”

“I see. Is Christian your brother, too?”

Christian’s smile waivered and Oliver looked at Rupert, unsure. Rupert held out his hand and pulled Oliver into his lap.

Callum leaned forward and grabbed Christian by the ankle. “Come on.”

Christian clamored across the bed and landed between Rupert and Callum with a flounce that made the whole bed bounce, tucking himself in under Callum’s arm. Callum turned the camera on all of them.

“Mom, this is Rupert Smythe.”

Rupert ran a self-conscious hand over his hair. “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Morrison.”

“Oh, you should call me Mary. After all, it seems you’re quite, uh, close to my son.”

Rupert didn’t envy Callum for being on the receiving end of
that
look.

“Oliver and Christian live with Rupert, Mom. As he mentioned, Oliver is his younger brother, and Christian is his…”

“Ward,” Rupert supplied, the word springing to mind after signing a thousand documents the day before to that effect. “Though, really, he’s family, which is what’s important.”

Rupert was warmed by the matching smiles from Mary and Christian.

“Oh, you’re in good with her now,” Callum muttered.

His mother and Rupert both ignored him.

“Well,” Mary said gamely, “I had no idea you were keeping such splendid company up there in Moncton, Callum.” Which clearly was an oversight for which he would pay dearly. “I’m delighted to meet you all. You must come visit! Callum, I expect to see everyone at the end of summer weekend.”

“Oh, I—” Rupert began, desperately trying to gauge Callum’s expression.

“That would be so cool!” Christian said enthusiastically. “Are you in Denver, Mrs. Morrison?”

“No, dear,” Mary replied. “And you must call me…well, I don’t know. Mrs. Morrison doesn’t seem right, does it?”

Callum’s mouth was just kind of hanging open now. It would have been funny if Rupert hadn’t felt like things were rapidly spinning out of control.

“How about Mimi? Would that work?”

“Okay,” Oliver agreed readily.

Christian’s smile had faded to something softer and sweeter than his usual grin. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, dear. I can’t wait to meet you in person. We’re in Connecticut.” She looked at Oliver. “Do you know where that it?”

The next ten minutes were spent listening to Mary extoll the apparently endless virtues of New England, northwest Connecticut in particular, the Morrison end of summer weekend, and the Morrisons themselves. This somehow turned into Mary telling them how very very much she was looking forward to having them all come to stay. Apparently they were all to bring their skates, and hockey equipment if they had it, and could expect to be plied with an endless supply of chocolate chip cookies.

Callum looked resigned. Rupert couldn’t help but smile. Mary Morrison had a gentle and warm way about her, but Rupert had no doubt where Callum got his stubborn streak.

He ran his hand over Callum’s, twining their fingers together out of view of the camera.

Callum cast him an apologetic look. “Is this okay?” he asked softly.

Rupert wasn’t really sure. He probably should ask Callum the same thing.

“Rupert, I’m terribly sorry,” Mary said, concerned, and apparently having ears like a bat. “I should have made sure it was okay with you before I asked your children to come stay.”

Twin looks of abject longing were turned on him, Oliver’s hand clutching his shirt. Honestly, no man could withstand that, least of all Rupert.

“No, it’s fine, Mary. Thank you for inviting us. It sounds lovely.”

“So do you have any questions? Anything I can do to help you?”

Rupert thought he could probably find his way to the Morrison house by landmarks alone at this point. There was, though, something he could use her help with.

“Actually, I do have one question.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“At what age did you allow your children to drink coffee?”

Callum slumped back against the headboard with Christian leaning against his chest and Oliver half on top of everyone, and listened to his mother’s detailed explanation on the merits and dangers of caffeine consumption.

He was well familiar with this particular subject and his mother’s opinions around it, of course. As was he familiar with his mother’s tricks. He never should have answered her call, and in bed with Rupert and the boys, no less. He was such an idiot.

He’d done, in his opinion, a clever job of avoiding his siblings and parents for most of the summer. He’d spoken to them, of course— in particular Savannah, with whom he checked in three times a week for his training. But he’d done it in the gym or after his morning walk-through or when Mike and Alexei had taken Oliver out on some adventure.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to meet Oliver and Rupert and now Christian. It was that he wanted it too much. He wanted what he couldn’t have, far too much.

Obviously, his mother was going to adore the children. She had seven of her own and hadn’t killed one of them yet, so she clearly had a capacity for patience and love that far exceeded normal limits. And he could have predicted that his mother would take to Rupert. The reverse, though, he might not have foreseen. Rupert was hanging on his mother’s every word.

Christian, on the other hand, was trying hard not to object when talk turned to limits on sodas. Oliver looked bored.

“Go get your book,” Callum whispered in Oliver’s ear under his mother’s watchful gaze, impressed she never once paused in her dissertation on the perils of red dye.

Oliver slid out from under the iPad for just a second, then returned with
Curious George
to settle on Callum’s lap. Christian took the tablet so that Callum could hold the book for Oliver and Mimi—
really, Mom?
—could still see everyone.

The looks his mother was sending him while she continued to answer questions and he quietly read to Oliver were kind of hilarious. Eventually, though, even Rupert had learned enough for one day and the call began to wrap up. Callum was well-aware there’d be a phone call later and a whole new lecture delivered then, just for Callum.

Could he get away with “accidentally” flushing his phone down the toilet? Doubtful, since his mother looked close to starting in on him then and there.

“Okay, Mom, it was great to talk to you. We have to run, though. Lots to do today!” Callum announced cheerfully, ignoring the looks from the boys and Rupert at that blatant lie.

His mother took a few minutes to reiterate how excited she was to meet everyone, but at last Callum ended the call.

“How much trouble are you in?” Rupert asked as they both stared at the blank screen.

“There is no way to measure it with currently available technology.”

Callum survived the phone call with his mother later mostly by making sure she could hear the kids shouting in the background as they played on the ice at the rink. Oliver wore his brand-spanking-new first pair of skates—hockey skates, no less—and was having a ball holding on to the pant legs of anyone who would let him tag along for a ride.

For the next two weeks, though, Callum paid a heavy price for his familial avoidance strategy. All six of his siblings took an opportunity to reach out and tell him all about the fascinating story they’d heard from their mother. Callum listened and harrumphed and generally remained tight-lipped, to the consternation of all. Eventually he started to let Oliver answer his phone, which was dirty pool, but he didn’t care. He was done being interrogated by that pack of hyenas.

The only one he couldn’t avoid was Savannah, since she was, technically, his trainer. She was also the only one who didn’t give him a lot of shit. She’d called the day after his Skype disaster with their mom, acknowledged she’d heard a pretty interesting tale of bed snuggles and happy children, then asked only, “Are you okay?”

 He’d promised he was, and she’d let it go. Maybe because as the only girl in that pack of hyenas she was more sensitive, but more likely because he hadn’t called her and asked, “Are you seriously in love with two men and are the three of you getting freaky together in bed?”

So, maybe it was sisterly love and maybe it was détente. Either way, Callum appreciated it. Especially because he really, really didn’t ever want to ask her that question, let alone hear the answer. He supported her, he loved her, he even cared about the two men in question and looked forward to them joining the family, but she was still his
sister.
As far as he was concerned, she didn’t even know what sex was, let alone have it.

Actually, maybe
that
was why she didn’t ask about him—she was afraid of hearing the details. Which was probably wise, since he and Rupert couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They held hands on the couch, watching movies with the boys. And under the table at restaurants when they were out with their friends. They stood closer than they should in public, and spent far more time than was probably professional in Rupert’s office with the door closed.

Every night they climbed into Rupert’s ridiculously large, soft bed, pajama pants at the ready over the footboard, and spent the first hour, or three, exploring each other. Callum hadn’t gone to bed this early on a regular basis since he’d been ten years old. But Christian liked to read in bed at night, and Oliver was asleep before sunset, and, well, once the house was quiet, all Callum wanted was to curl up with Rupert.

Rupert didn’t seem to mind. After a particularly handsy morning teasing each other, Callum met Rupert for his now daily visit to the locker room, expecting to continue helping him with his anxiety about the space. Instead, Callum was immediately dragged into the trainer’s office, the door shut firmly behind them. A few minutes later, Callum was pretty sure he heard Jack calling his name, but he didn’t answer. His mouth was full, in any case.

So he had sex. A lot of sex, over the next couple weeks. But they didn’t actually
have sex
. Callum had told Rupert he wanted Rupert to fuck him and he’d meant it. Rupert had seemed more than willing, but now the damn man was taking forever. It wasn’t from lack of
very clearly expressed
interest. Rupert had just gotten it into his head this was something Callum needed to prepare for.

Now, as training regimes went, this one was way more fun than anything else Callum had done. Too bad this wasn’t an Olympic event, because he would totally have brought home the gold. Every night Rupert would roll him onto his back and kiss him, long and slow and deep. It started with one finger, then two. Callum had progressed to the point he could take three of Rupert’s long, slender fingers in almost no time, and he’d had some of the most shattering orgasms of his life.

So why, he asked himself for the hundredth time that day alone, was he still the oldest virgin in fucking North America?

He
wanted
this, but Rupert stilled seemed vaguely disbelieving, in spite of the fact that Callum came, shouting against Rupert’s mouth, at least once a day, begging for it.

“Earth to Callum?”

Callum’s head snapped up. Holy shit, he’d just totally spaced out in the middle of the conference room, daydreaming about his sex life.

“You okay there, buddy?” Jack asked with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

“Because you were staring at Rupert’s office door all kind of moony-eyed and I thought maybe I’d lost you for a second there.”

Callum rolled his eyes. “No, I’m still here. Totally engaged in this super-interesting shit you’ve been talking about. Tell me more about the exciting world of durable, no-slip, commercial grade bathroom floor tile,
please
.”

“There is no call for being snide just because you’re horny,” Jack said.

Callum’s head hit the table with a thunk. “Oh my god, I can’t even argue with you. That’s exactly my fucking problem. No pun intended.”

Jack cracked up, then pulled out his cell phone. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“What?”

Jack just smiled and spoke into his phone. “Mike! Where are you? ...Perfect. Can you keep Oliver busy and away from home for, say, the next three hours? ...Yes, well, it will take that long if they do it right.” Callum could hear Mike laughing from across the room. “Okay, I’ll let them know.”

Jack hung up. “You’re cleared for go.”

“Really? I’m cleared for go?” Callum asked, his bland voice belying his speeding pulse.

“Are you going to stand there and take issue with my word choices, or are you going to go find Rupert, drag him home—
not
into the trainer’s office, I thank you very much on behalf of the entire staff, particularly the cleaning crew—and do whatever it was you were thinking about doing a few minutes ago?”

Callum didn’t bother to answer. Hell, he didn’t even bother to clean up his mess on the conference table. He’d be back in three hours, and not one minute less if he had anything to say about it.

He knocked on Rupert’s door once and walked right in.

“Still no lock on that door, I see,” Reese said mildly.

“Hi, Reese. Bye, Reese. Come on, Rupert, let’s go.”

Rupert stood. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, no, nothing is wrong. We just have to go. Come on.”

“But Callum—”

“Do you have meetings? Besides with him.” He dismissed Reese with a wave.

“I beg your pardon?” Reese said.

“No,” Rupert said slowly. “Not until later this afternoon.”

“In like, more than three hours?” Callum asked hopefully.

Rupert checked his watch. “In about four hours. What is this about?”

“We have to go,” Callum said again.

“What’s wrong?” Rupert demanded.

“Nothing! It’s just that Oliver is occupied with Mike and Alexei for the next three hours, Christian is at camp and then at the rink, and I don’t have any meetings either, so I wanted to…” Callum glanced at Reese, whose eyes absolutely danced with delight, before looking back at Rupert. “Be alone with you,” he finished lamely.

“Oh,” Rupert said, his face flaming.

“Well, I can see I’m not needed here,” Reese said as he stood, his voice shaking with laughter. “I will return in three hours, perhaps three and a half. Don’t hesitate to prolong your absence in order to properly bathe before returning. And do try not to make it obvious to all the nice people out in that office that you’re having a nooner while they have to stay at their desks, will you?”

“Oh, I ah…” Callum suddenly felt guilty. Not in the least bit dissuaded, but guilty.

Reese sent Rupert a meaningful look. “
Definitely
not Sheldon.”

Rupert grinned. “Thank god.”

Callum had no idea what the hell they were talking about, nor who the hell Sheldon was, but right now he didn’t care. They had a schedule to keep. Or something.

The moment Reese left the office, Rupert grabbed his iPad and shoved Callum out the door. They blew past Jack grinning at them from the conference room door.

“Does everyone know what you’re up to?” Rupert hissed in a low voice as they charged toward the parking lot.

“It was Jack’s idea,” he explained.

Rupert drew up short. “Going home for a matinee was
Jack’s
idea?”

Callum put a hand on Rupert’s back and urged him along. “Yes, and it was a good one. He was tired of me staring into space and trying to walk around upright while I’m constantly walking around erect, if you get my drift.”

Rupert laughed, somewhat hysterically, almost jogging by the time they got the car.

Callum was putting on his seatbelt when Rupert asked, “Wait. Has Jack been looking at your pants?”

“What?” Callum started the car and tore out of the lot. “No!”

He broke all land speed records and at least three traffic laws to get them to the warehouse. The freight doors had barely begun to close by the time Callum and Rupert were in the elevator, and they were kissing before the elevator doors were fully shut.

For the first time since they’d moved in, Callum didn’t give a shit about the creaky elevator. He thrust his fingers into Rupert’s hair, pressing him back against the swaying walls as they rose to the fourth floor. He couldn’t get enough.

Rupert turned his head, gasping for breath. Callum skimmed his lips over Rupert’s smooth cheek, tucking his nose behind Rupert’s ear and inhaling deeply before biting down.

Rupert’s legs gave a little, his weight shifting against Callum’s. They were pressed too tightly together for Rupert to actually go anywhere, but Callum curved a hand around one of Rupert’s perfectly round butt cheeks and shifted him up, closer. Their growing erections rubbed against each other.

“Please, Rupert,” Callum groaned against the soft skin of Rupert’s neck, his tongue swiping over the little bites he left behind.

“Yes,” Rupert gasped again. “Yes, come on.”

Callum ignored Rupert’s hands pushing at him until he realized he was working against himself here. They weren’t going to have sex in the elevator, if for no other reason than they needed lubricant. Really, that was about the only reason. Callum was so primed he felt lightheaded.

Rupert shoved the doors open and they spilled out into the hallway, stumbling in their haste to reach their door. Rupert dashed for the bedroom the moment they were inside, tossing his suit jacket on a kitchen stool, his fingers working his shirt buttons. Callum’s t-shirt hit the floor of the hallway, his shoes flying into a corner of the bedroom. His pants hit the floor with a dull thud, heavy with wallet and cellphone and keys. He left it all there in a heap and reached for Rupert.

Rupert stopped him with an outstretched hand.

“What?” Callum asked, desperate.

“You’re gorgeous. And sexy. And I honestly want to eat you alive. But I’m not getting in bed with you if you’re still wearing your socks. A man has his limits.”

Callum burst into laughter, hopping around on one foot, then the other, to strip himself of the offending footwear. As soon as he done, he figured
what the hell
and dropped his boxer briefs to the rug, too.

Rupert’s hand immediately wrapped around his cock, pulling him closer to the bed and tearing a grunt from his throat. He was easily led, but it wasn’t about Rupert’s hold on his dick. The draw was entirely about Rupert.

He kissed Rupert, cupping his jaw, thumbs tracing his high cheekbones. Rupert hummed into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he submitted to Callum’s touch. His kiss.

Callum loved these moments. Loved how careful he could be with Rupert. How the sizzle of arousal still burned in his blood, his need demanding, but there was still room for this. It felt vital, and urgent, but he could take his time. There was no reason to be quick or quiet. There was no reason to hide who or what he was, what he wanted, how much he
needed.

Rupert’s hands skimmed down his back and over his hips, touching him everywhere he could reach in long, slow strokes. The frantic kiss in the elevator had gotten them this far, but now it was like they’d dropped it down a gear. Or three. These were the kisses that often started their nights, when they’d crawl under the covers and reach for each other.

Callum had mostly gotten over his self-consciousness about being naked and intimate with Rupert. He hadn’t gotten over how much he loved to look at Rupert like this. Or with his clothes
on
, to be honest. But like this, their warm skin brushing, made Callum groan against his lips, and arch against his curious hands.

Rupert’s skin was smooth and pale as milk except the wonderfully tempting pink parts—his cheeks, neck, and chest when he was aroused, his belly and thighs where Callum had sucked up marks, hidden from public view but always there
.
Callum had taken to marking one particular spot on the inside of Rupert’s thigh, just low enough that Callum could brush his fingers over it under the table at a restaurant, or even beneath the conference room table. Rupert would twitch, sometimes a small smile hovering on his lips as he continued speaking to someone else, sometimes turning to give Callum a dark look, full of promise.

Callum was a slave to those looks. They drove him to take risks, to pull Rupert into storage closets and empty offices and on top of Rupert’s desk, so desperate for a touch, for even one kiss, he was willing to risk discovery.

Moncton had begun to feel safe. Foolishly so, he knew, but it just made him feel so…
whole,
for once in his life. Like he was living instead of hiding. And it would all be over soon. This life, stolen from his reality, and yet still so exquisitely real.

Callum tucked his lips up under Rupert’s jaw, nosing the soft skin there until he was behind Rupert’s ear, inhaling deeply once more. Sometimes this was all he needed to escape his thoughts about the future, and the accompanying dread that congealed in a cold lump in his gut. Rupert smelled like sex. And love. And home.