If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(22)

And Cal loved making him feel that way, despite a faint residual sense of oh crap, what am I doing? Eventually, he could barely move anymore, too exhausted, too sated in every sense. This was what he’d been fighting against? Being with James, making him feel this way, blowing both their minds?

He stopped and pulled out, and all but collapsed on the bed. As Cal tried to rouse himself enough to get up, James turned and placed his head on Cal’s shoulder.

Damn. So much to understand, to process. So much to work out.

He did manage to get up briefly to deal with the condom, and came back with a wet towel to clean James off.

James looked at him with sleepy eyes, completely relaxed and mellow. So much so, in fact, that he barely resembled himself at all.

Cal tossed the towel into the hamper. “Are you hurt?”

James shook his head. “No. Don’t . . . care.”

That was the problem. James didn’t care, and during or after sex he was in no position to care. Short of getting more clues from James, Cal had to move carefully. Maybe James would eventually trust him with his deepest, darkest fantasies. The things he really wanted and needed. And maybe Cal could really, actually be what the man needed. He wanted to be. It was already amazing sex; how much better would it get if he had a clue what he was doing? If James opened up completely?

Cal stretched his arm out and James rested against him, and for a while, they dozed peacefully, Cal every now and then turning his head to brush his lips against James’s head or brow. If James would just talk, things would be so much easier.

Resting turned into half sleep, but then James got up, muttering something about needing to deal with work emails. He left the room, and not long afterwards, Cal fell asleep for real. A faint buzz woke him a couple hours later, and he found his jeans and the phone, but then the sound stopped.

The caller ID showed a number but no name, so he dialled back.

“Hello?” Male voice.

“Hi, it’s Callum Bryant. Did you . . . you just called me.”

“Yes.” A clap like a closing door. “Nick here.”

Ah, the very special Nick. “Hi. Uh, thanks for calling. I appreciate it.”

“Sure. Frank said you need help?”

Cal glanced at the bedroom door. He wasn’t entirely sure where James was, so he kept his voice low. “I don’t suppose we could talk face-to-face.”

“It’s your call,” Nick said. “But I don’t want to waste your time or mine if I can’t help you.”

Cal swallowed. “All right, well, maybe we can talk details in person. But what you did for your clients at Market Garden. Can you teach me?”

“Teach you?” There was a note of amusement in Nick’s tone. Not condescending, though. “I can teach you some techniques, but you’re either a Dom or you’re not.”

Cal grinned. “I think I’ve got that part covered.”

“I see.” That amusement was more pronounced now. “Meet me at St Pancras. I’ll text you an address. Coffee’s on you.”

Cal chuckled. “Absolutely. Time?”

“Hold on.” Nick spoke again, but his voice was muffled and slightly distant. Then came a lower and quieter response. To Cal, Nick said, “Meet me there around six this evening.”

“I’ll be there.”

They hung up, and as promised, Nick texted him the address of a coffee shop just outside St Pancras train station. Cal glanced at the bedroom door again. He wasn’t sure about doing this without talking to James, but maybe he’d just get a feel for what Nick had done for him. See if he really was cut out for it.

See if he had a shot at being what James needed.





Cal had only seen him once, but he recognised Nick the second he came through the door. Though he was dressed down—low-slung jeans and a black and teal Muse T-shirt—he still carried himself like he had the night he’d come home with James. Confident shoulders, straight back, in-your-face eyes; Cal was starting to understand why Frank and Brandon had immediately thought of this guy.

Cal flagged him down, and as soon as they made eye contact, Nick cocked his head slightly.

“Have we met?” he asked as he took a seat across from Cal.

Cal nodded. “You, um, my boss hired you one night.”

“Your—” Nick paused. “Red Tie.”

“Yeah. Him.”

The Dom gave a slight nod. “I remember him. And you.”

“Oh. I see.” Clearing his throat, Cal gestured towards the counter. “So, coffee’s on me. What’s your poison?”

Nick gave the menu a glance. “Get me a latte.”

“Got it.” Cal stood and went to the counter. He ordered their coffees, paid, and returned.

As Nick picked up his mug, he shot Cal an odd look.

“What?” Cal asked.

“What exactly makes you think you’re a Dom?”

Cal arched an eyebrow. “Do you think I’m not?”

Nick shrugged. He sipped his coffee, then set the mug down. “Well, I’ve twice told you to do something, and you’ve done it without the slightest hesitation.”

“Have I?”

Nick lifted his coffee cup and gestured at it with his other hand. “This for starters. And did you notice I didn’t ask you to meet me here, or if you were even free?”