“Hey, stop apologizing. I wanted this. I have every intention of picking up right where we started as soon as we get back here. But for now, I can wait. Let’s get cleaned up and do what we have to do so we can get back here. Okay?”
Robby nodded, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen a bit. “Okay.”
Calder wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected from retracing Robby’s footsteps but it was more than the big pile of nothing they’d found in the last three hours. The only place they’d yet to try was the club, and Calder wasn’t optimistic. They parked around the back of the building where the employees parked, and he pounded on the back door. A few minutes later, a guy in jeans and a black t-shirt with the club’s logo on it pushed the door open but didn’t allow them in, blocking the entrance with his body. He wasn’t imposing, but Calder wasn’t looking to make any headlines. The dude was fit, Calder supposed. Good-looking too with his wavy black hair and pale blue eyes.Just Robby’s type.The thought rankled.
“Can I help you?” the pretty boy asked.
“We’re looking for this guy. Is he working today?” Calder asked, showing a still from the footage Charlie found. It was blurry, but Calder hoped that somebody who knew the man would still be able to identify him.
“Caleb? He works the bar. He doesn’t get in until late. He’s ten to three,” the guy said, his gaze stuttering to Robby then back again as if he suddenly realized who he was. “Hey, you’re the guy. The actor who killed that creep from your dad’s cult, right?”
Robby flushed. “Yeah.”
The guy grinned, arching a brow. “I’m Brandon. Listen, if you guys want to come back tonight and talk to Caleb, I can get you in.”
“Yeah, I’m not really supposed to be out in public right now,” Robby said, looking at Calder.
Before Calder could speak, Brandon did. “I hear ya, beautiful. Listen, come back about eleven tonight and come to the back door. I’ll let you in before I clock out. Maybe I could even buy you a drink? You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?” he asked with a wink.
Calder rotated his jaw and prayed for calm. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t do that if he was sitting in jail for assault. “We’ll be back at eleven,” Calder all but snarled before gripping Robby’s hand and spinning him around. “Let’s go.”
“It’s nineties night tonight. You know, if you want to dress up like your friend is,” Brandon shouted at their retreating figures. “You really nailed the grunge look, man.”
Robby giggled as Calder looked down at his faded jeans, paint-splattered Pink Floyd t-shirt, and his black shitkicker boots. Grunge? What was this little asshole trying to say? “See you tonight, Brad.”
“It’s Brandon,” Robby corrected.
“Whatever,” Calder muttered, opening Robby’s door for him and helping him up into the cab of the truck before slamming it shut. Calder climbed in, shoving the key into the ignition. “Put your seatbelt on.”
Robby didn’t put his seatbelt on. He just stared at Calder, brows furrowed. “Are you okay?” he asked before worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I do something wrong?”
Calder’s irritation melted away at the fear in Robby’s tone. “What? No, angel. That guy just got on my nerves.”
“‘Cause he asked if I wanted a drink?” Robby asked, tone almost hopeful.
He should have said no, gave a gentle reminder to Robby that what’s between them is just sex, just short term fun. But that felt like the bigger lie, and he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Robby, not when the rest of the world seemed hellbent on doing it for him. “Yes, sweetness, because he asked you for a drink.”
“Did you think I wanted to have a drink with that guy?” Robby asked, voice small, almost like he worried he was in trouble.
“Did you?” Calder asked gently. “It’s okay if you did. I don’t control what you do and who you do it with. He does sort of look like Elijah.”
Robby shrugged. “Maybe, but I didn’t pick Elijah. Jasmine and Mark work for the same agency. Elijah wasn’t really my type.”
Calder turned in his seat to look at Robby. “No? Then what is your type?”
Robby slid along the bench seat until he sat on his knees beside Calder. When the boy’s lips brushed against Calder’s ear in a timid imitation of what Calder had done to Robby just hours ago, Calder’s dick immediately took notice. Why was everything Robby did sexy? This kid was going to give him blue balls before the end of the day.
“My type?” Robby asked, biting at Calder’s earlobe. “Tall, older, sexy, southern drawl, tough, a butt that looks really good in Wranglers, and has a truck with a bench seat.” As Robby listed off these attributes, he kissed along Calder’s throat, hand skating over his inner thigh.
Calder groaned, tilting his head so Robby could trace his tongue along the corded tendon of his neck. “Careful, angel. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Robby undid Calder’s belt and jeans with impressive efficiency, his hand slipping into Calder’s underwear to wrap around his cock. “But what if I want to finish it?”
Fuck. Calder would be an idiot to refuse such a bold advance. He shoved his jeans and underwear to his thighs and leaned back. “I just can’t say no to you, angel.”
Robby’s hand disappeared and Calder could only stare as the boy ran his tongue along his palm before returning it back to Calder’s cock, jerking him in a lazy motion that had him squirming. “You’re such a little tease,” he groaned.
“I’m not being a tease,” Robby murmured. “I’m just making it last. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
