23. Cal
CHAPTER 23
CAL
I was so distracted by Greg’s eyes starting to glow that I forgot to brace myself for the mind-meld. But what I should’ve braced myself for was the kiss.
I’d been kissed before, though my previous lip locks weren’t terribly memorable. Just some obligatory foreplay leading up to the main event. But this kiss, this kiss was an experience.
Greg and I were about the same height, but as he leaned in to kiss me, he seemed bigger . Taller, larger. For the first time in my life, I felt slightly fragile, as if Greg could break me if he had a mind to. He was dangerous.
And I liked it.
He cupped my jaw with his hand and tilted my face just so. Then he caught my lips with his. My eyes fell shut. Our connection—and the mind-meld—blazed with want . Greg was attracted to me. I felt powerful and sexy.
I moaned, opening my mouth to get closer to him, to devour him. As our tongues met, I pulled him into my body, and he was the one groaning.
Down .
Greg bent his knees and pulled me to the floor with him. He lay back, using his hands to urge me to lay over him, covering him. The sound of our harsh breaths echoed in the huge empty room. Greg parted his legs, and I gasped at the sweet friction of his cock against mine, even if it was dulled by the fabric of our jeans.
Our mouths found each other again as I pulled his thigh up to my waist. The heat of his mouth, the pressure where our bodies met, the fiery need pulsing into my brain. I’d never been so turned on, and so quickly. My cock was leaking, soaking my underwear and the front of my jeans. Greg hooked his ankles together behind my back and thrust up, driving our cocks together. My balls were being crushed by my inseam, but I was on the verge of coming anyway.
Gonna come.
Yes.
My entire body pulsed as I came, and I made an inarticulate cry. But the orgasm didn’t stop—it rolled across to Greg, and he shouted with his release. Then his orgasm ricocheted back to me, and I fucking came again, my dick jerking and my balls trying valiantly to produce more cum.
I thought he came one more time as well, but I was having trouble paying attention. When everything finally subsided, I sprawled limply across Greg. He stroked a hand down my back. I was sure I was crushing him, so with a pained groan, I pushed myself up to roll to the side.
“No,” he murmured, tightening his arms and legs around me to keep me in place. Our clothes were blocking most skin-to-skin contact, but through our connection I got that Greg needed the closeness and touch, and he loved being covered and weighed down by my body.
Huh .
“I like hugs too,” he said.
Nothing specific came across the connection, but I had a distinct impression he didn’t have many people in his life who hugged or even just touched him.
Well, that’s one thing I could do. I snaked my hands under his shoulders and held him close. “Let me know if I get too heavy.”
He nuzzled my neck. “No such thing.”
I snorted. “You still have to breathe, and the floor is hard.”
He kissed my ear, which was a little weird, but whatever. “I’m fine. I’m... better than fine. That was... damn.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. It was incredible. Though I’m regretting not getting naked due to the situation in my pants right now.”
Greg stuck his nose under the collar of my shirt and inhaled.
Okay....
“Um, did you know that orgasm echo thing would happen?” I tipped my head from side to side to mimic the ricochet.
He laughed into my collarbone. “Sort of. People talked about it, but I never expected it to be so... explosive.” He pulled his head back so he could look me in the eyes. “I know you didn’t want to have sex tonight. I hope this wasn’t too much.”
I kissed him. “It was fine. More than fine.” I glanced to the side and cleared my throat. “Um, just.... Remember how I told you I had a vision?”
When I glanced back at him, his eyes were glowing again. “The one where I kissed you?” he growled. He looked like he was considering starting another round .
I felt my face get hot. “Yeah, um, so, about that. I kind of failed to mention that in the vision, you kissed me on the cheek.”
He stared at me. Then he threw his head back and laughed.
After another few minutes of cuddling and peppering each other with occasional kisses, I said, “I hate to do this, Greg, but I really need to clean up.”
He groaned, but after giving me one last hug he let his arms and legs flop to the side. His hair, of course, spilled over the wooden floor in a graceful halo around his head.
I carefully got off him and stood up, offering him my hand. “Come on. We need to go home.” I smiled at his pout.
He finally took my hand. As I helped him stand, he grimaced. “Okay, I’m with you on the cleaning up thing now. And I’m too old to spend this much time on the floor.”
We used the—separate—bathrooms to mop things up as best we could without any spare clothes. Luckily the water had been turned back on for the inspection. I debated just taking my underwear off, but then I’d have to wad them up in my pocket, and... no. I’d deal until I got home.
When I went downstairs, I found the front door open. Greg was standing on the porch.
He turned when he heard me coming. “Sorry,” he said with a rueful grimace. “The décor was getting to me, and I needed to go outside.”
We walked to the SUV. After we were settled in our seats, I asked, “How will you decorate the house?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking I’d do something similar to the way I have my apartment.” Then he looked at me, wide-eyed. “ Is that.... Do you like it? If there’s something you’d prefer....” He gestured at the house in front of us.
“ Me? This is your house, Greg. Even if decorating was something I was good at, it’d be your decision to make.”
His expression said I was missing something. “Cal, we’re already permanently connected. A full bonding is almost inevitable unless we stop spending time with each other. If you hate the house, I can sell it and we can find something else. But we’re going to live together. Or, at least....” He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I’m rushing you.”
He put the SUV in reverse and started to back out of the driveway.
Fuck. I couldn’t quite parse out all the emotions coming through the connection. Frustration, embarrassment, something like he felt... inadequate? Unworthy?
I put my hand on his leg. He glanced over before looking back at the road.
I said, “Look, I’ve been having trouble processing this whole magic-married thing. It just hasn’t quite sunk in yet, and I’m not ready to make decisions about our future. Like we said earlier, it’s only been five days.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he muttered.
I patted his thigh. “That being said, you’ve seen my apartment. My style hasn’t evolved since I was in high school. I do like your place. I think it’s soothing, and that color scheme would look good in the new house. But no matter how you decorate, I’m willing to commit as far as saying I’ll enjoy spending time there.”
“Yeah?” He threw a smile at me .
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “After I stop at Silvia and Lloyd’s for snacks.”
He chuckled and his hand covered mine on his leg. The confusion of unpleasant emotions had calmed, though I could feel him telling himself to chill the fuck out, to give me the space I needed, and that I wasn’t going anywhere.
I turned my hand over and laced my fingers through his. Then I sent over, I’ve never held hands with anyone romantically before.
He sucked in a breath and darted a glance at me. “Really?”
I squeezed his hand. “Really.”
He smiled and squeezed my hand back. His emotions turned to pride, satisfaction, and excitement.
It only took a few minutes to get back to my apartment building.
I said, “Um, I’d invite you up, but Ms. Jackson is there and I think it’d be weird?—”
Greg nodded. “Understood.” He pulled into a parking space, dropping my hand briefly to use the gear shift. He picked it back up again, twining his fingers with mine. “Maybe one day we can lock ourselves in your bedroom.”
I snorted. “Shutting the door would be enough. I don’t think Ms. Jackson can turn a doorknob.”
He smiled and said, “Can I see you tomorrow night? I need to go into work during the day.”
“Sure. Why don’t you text me when you’re free, and we can make a plan?”
“And, uh, Monday is game night at Craig and Foster’s house. Would you be willing to come with me? ”
Holy shit, Greg wanted me to meet all his friends!
“Yeah, I’d love to.”
Greg raised an eyebrow and held up our joined hands. “Are you sure, because the surge of terror I just felt?—”
I put a finger of my free hand over his mouth. “It was not terror . It was just a little nervousness.”
He smirked against my finger, then said, “Sure, whatever you say.”
I slid my hand from his lips to the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Be nice or I’ll sic Steve on you.”
Saturday morning I couldn’t get what Greg had brought up the previous night out of my head. Sure, I’d told Felix and Steve I was magic-married to Greg, and I’d known in an abstract way that we were permanently linked to each other. But he’d spoken about us living together. Like it was inevitable.
Did I want that? I hadn’t lived with anyone since I’d moved out of my mom’s house. But this would be more than a roommate situation. Greg and I would be full-on living together . Sleeping in the same bed, having sex.
My dick was certainly on board with that plan. Last night’s dry humping session had been fucking spectacular.
But sex wasn’t everything. And I didn’t even know Greg yet, not really. I wanted more time to learn who he was—and make sure he knew who I was—before I moved in with him. At least it’d take a few months for his house to get renovated. I could see how I felt then .
Though I was pretty sure Greg was right. We would end up together. Bonded. Because now my other option, moving away to make sure we never formed a bond, made me feel ill just considering it.
So bonding and moving in together would happen. But they didn’t have to happen right away.
In between fretting about Greg and my relationship, I spent most of the day working on the outline and some story boards for the new game. Kurt had been handling everything beautifully at Rogues Gallery in my absence, and Steve thought we could finalize our transition out of the day-to-day operations of the company by the end of this month.
I did get more Discord messages from DMs around the country with possible victims of the fog monsters. The fuckers were definitely moving across the US, but it was hard to say whether they were heading for somewhere specific or if they were scattering their kills to hide their tracks.
Around 4pm I quit for the day. Greg would be at work for at least another hour, so I decided to try calling another vision of the next victim.
Ms. Jackson, who I’d talked into watching the first season of Supernatural , allowed me to turn off the TV for a few minutes so I could concentrate.
I settled back on the couch, closed my eyes, and focused on my breathing. This time before calling the vision I reached out for my magic. I spent a moment or two examining how it sparkled and spun through me in a big wheel.
Greg had told me we couldn’t cast any spells or anything, and Edgar had said when you called a vision you just waited for it to show up. But what if I sort of “threw” the magic out to see if it could catch a vision? Like a net? Wouldn’t I get a better result with more energy put into it ?
It was worth a shot.
I imagined gathering my magic all together, then I focused on what I wanted to know—the victim, the place, and the timing of the next attack.
I shoved the magic outward.
Oops.
The thing about a net is, you have to keep hold of it in order to bring back what you catch. And I instantly lost my hold on the magic I’d sent out.
I watched in dismay as almost all of my sparkles flew away, streaming outward and leaving me depleted and drained of energy.
I sank further into the cushions. Maybe I’d feel better after a nap.
Something heavy and warm landed on my knee, and my eyes popped open.
“Aaaaaah!” I shouted, scrambling up and diving over the back of the couch in a feat of agility I hadn’t known I was capable of.
But that used up all my remaining strength, so when I landed on the floor, I passed right the fuck out.