“No.”Not yet.He shook the thought away. “It’s not about that.”
“It’s clearly a little about that,” Linc chided. “There’s something about this kid that’s got you by the short ones, which I have to admit, I find…amusing.”
“Happy to help,” Calder muttered.
Linc scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, what you do in your off time is none of my business, but on the clock, no more fucking the clients. This is your last warning. I don’t want to have to fire you.”
Hence the reason Calder wanted to keep Robby off the payroll. He couldn’t trust himself to keep his hands off, but he also knew he wouldn’t trust anybody else to keep him safe.
“Oh, and if you do plan on doing this boy in your off time, don’t bring the drama into my office. We’re getting a reputation here.”
Before Calder could respond, the door burst open and Charlie and Wyatt spilled inside, Robby in tow. “Robby wants to hire Elite to guard him until we figure out what’s going on, and he wants Calder as his security detail.”
Calder’s head swiveled to Linc. A wide grin spread across the man’s face. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Robby confirmed, his voice squeaking a bit at the end.
Calder sat upright. “Wait. That’s not—”
“Excellent,” Linc said, cutting Calder off. “We’ll get the paperwork drawn up so we can start right away. You don’t have a problem with that. Do you, Seton?”
Calder could feel a headache start to form behind his eyes, but the dejected look on Robby’s face had him saying, “No, not at all.”
Calder wanted to kick himself. He should have never tipped his hand. He’d been pushing Linc’s buttons for way too long. He had to know that Linc would take the opportunity to teach him a lesson if one presented itself. Fuck.
Thirty minutes and one signed contract later, it was done. Robby was officially a client and Calder was officially neutered. The kid looked exhausted, his hair matted to his head and his skin pale. Most clients preferred to stay in their homes, but Robby’s apartment was still a crime scene, so that meant coming up with another plan.
“You could take him to the safehouse off of Cresthill,” Linc offered.
Calder shook his head. “If it’s alright with…my client,” Calder forced himself to say, “I’d rather take him to my place.” Four sets of eyes bored a hole into him. “What? My place is more secure than any of our safehouses.”
“It’s fine,” Robby said, directing his answer to Linc. “I just really need to get somewhere I can shower, and Cas needs to eat and take his medicine.”
“Okay. The client comes first,” Linc said, glaring at Wyatt and Charlie when they giggled like small children.
Calder couldn’t help but feel like the two had lured him into a trap, but it was too late now. He pressed his hand to the small of Robby’s back, leading him towards the office door.
“Don’t forget our talk, Calder. Last warning,” Linc reminded one final time.
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” No fucking the clients. No matter how sweet and soft and delectable they were, and Robby was the sweetest of them all.
The boy slept before Calder even made it out of the parking lot. He didn’t blame the kid. He’d had one hell of a week and the truck was a safe space. But Calder found it hard to keep his eyes on the road, hard to tear himself away from the boy’s softened features and the way his lips parted in sleep. Robby tugged at some long dormant part of Calder’s soul, a part he’d thought he’d excised long ago. It didn’t make sense, but he just wanted to protect this boy’s soft heart but also couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways he wanted to violate his perfect body.
The boy sucked in a startled breath as soon as Calder shut down the truck’s engine. His neighbor, Mrs. Leighton, stood at the security gate, her groceries at her pink-bunny slippered feet as she attempted to swipe her key fob to allow her access into the building. Calder reached around the old woman who jumped then laughed when she realized it was him. When the door buzzed, he swept her bags up with one hand while guiding Robby with the other. The boy’s skin was pleasantly warm.
Mrs. Leighton beamed at him before following them up the stairs at a snail’s pace. Calder didn’t understand why the older woman never took the elevator, but he lacked the nerve to ask. She probably wouldn’t hear him anyway. Calder punched in the access code to his door lock and slid the keycard in before scanning his thumb print on the pad. Robby frowned at the elaborate security system, probably wondering why Calder felt the need for such measures, but he remained silent.
Once the door opened, he gently pushed Robby inside. “Give me a minute to help her and I’ll be right in. Make yourself at home.”
Robby didn’t speak, just nodded.
Calder helped Mrs Leighton put her groceries away and feed Mr. Pickles, her—in Calder’s opinion—entirely too fat, orange and black cat.
“It’s nice,” Mrs. Leighton said, seemingly out of the blue.
“What’s that?” Calder asked, stooping to scratch the cat under his chin.
“Seeing you finally bringing somebody home.”
