Page 74 of Shake Your Boo Thang

“Besides,” he interrupts, “they’re only open until 5:30 in the evening this time of year. And once winter hits, 4:30.” He smiles smugly.

“Well, shoot,” I mutter, disappointed.

But I perk right back up when Callum pulls me into his side and drapes an arm over my shoulders as we continue to tour the Tower. He smells faintly of his aftershave but the rest is all eau de Callum Fraser—my new favorite scent.

When we make it to the room with the Crown Jewels, I can’t keep my jaw off the floor.

“Are those all real?”

Callum scoffs. “Aye, the British monarchy spent a few hundred years or more plundering the riches of other countries to enrich themselves. Blood jewels if you ask me.” He scowls. “And don’t get me started on what they did to us Scots and the Stone of Destiny.”

I make a note to ask more about that later, but not here under the watchful eye of the room attendant.

“Honestly, I’m not sure anyone could pull these enormous jewels off except for Miz Dolly Parton—God rest her sweet, beautiful soul. There wasn’t anyone who could outshine her. She may have been the rhinestone queen, but if there is a heaven, she’s probably sitting there on a throne decked out in jewels even bigger than these. And looking fabulous too, I might add.”

Callum’s lips twitch. “Dolly Parton, eh? I never would have guessed you had a thing for her. Even the pink rhinestone bow tie and matching suspenders went right over my head.”

I gape at him. “Sir, you’re sassin’ me, aren’t ya? My love for all things Dolly Parton is practically tattooed on my forehead.”

“You don’t say,” he deadpans.

I chuckle and press myself into his side. “Miz Parton’s music saved my life as a gay boy ghost whisperer growing up in Alabama, and she will always be my hero and role model. Few people in this world can match the level of philanthropy she did with little to no fanfare.” I shake my head. “If more people were like Miz Parton, the world would be a better place.”

To my surprise, Callum leans down right there and plants a big old kiss on me. Again.

The one in the coffee shop threw me, but this time I’m ready for him.

Matching his boldness, I go right along with it and kiss him for all I’m worth. Melting into him like butter on a hot biscuit, I feel my insides go equally soft and gooey.

Those ideas of riding him to Orgasm Station come roaring on back into my brain and travel right down to my balls, making them tingle.

When he pulls back from me, a smug look of satisfaction on his face, I want nothing more than to dazzle him as much as he does me.

“What do you say we wrap up this tour and head back to your place?” I whisper, my voice full of seductive promise.

I grab the back of his neck, pulling his face down to my level again.

Then I gently bite his bottom lip and suck on it to soothe the sting. Reaching my hand up, I stroke his stubbly cheek—yum—and say, “The sooner we get back to your place, the sooner I can ride you like the bedroom rodeo queen I am, sugar.”

A dark glimmer of desire flares in Callum’s eyes and sets my heart racing. My libido does a little victory dance.

I don’t even mind when Callum takes hold of my hand and makes a beeline for the exit like he’s in hot pursuit of a suspect.

There’s more of the Tower that I would like to see someday, but right now, my physical needs are superseding any of my ghost-whisperer curiosity about this historic haunted landmark. Besides, the spirits didn’t seem inclined to come out and say hello today anyway, so trying another time just makes sense.

I am surprised, however, when Callum ends up hailing an actual taxicab, cost be damned as he tells me.

When we get in, he gives the driver his address and pulls me into his lap. The driver nods his head and sets the meter going, then begins weaving and bobbing through London’s side streets on a route only he seems to know in order to get us to Callum’s place as quickly as possible.

In the back seat, I don’t even bother with a seat belt. Instead, I make myself at home in Callum’s lap, wrapping myself around him like a friendly anaconda with no intention of letting him go. We kiss with a fiery passion that sets my whole body aflame. Time passes and I lose track of everything except the touch and taste of Callum.

I’m on the edge of desperate need when the taxicab finally comes to a jarring halt. Callum reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and tosses several bills at the driver with a curt thanks before half-carrying me up to his apartment.

Once inside, Callum closes the door and slams my back up against it. My legs wrap around his hips as we maul one another’s mouths and tear at each other’s clothes. Somehow, we manage to get naked and stumble to his bedroom without injuring ourselves, but once there, I shake off some of the haze of lust, not wanting to lose sight of my mission.

I gently shove Callum down on the bed, admiring his thick erection. Nothing about Callum Fraser is small, that’s for sure.

“Condoms?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.