If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(27)

No response.

He reached down and adjusted the air conditioning, just to do something completely casual and normal. If Nick’s calculations were correct, that would epically f*ck with James’s head.

Sure enough, more squeaking leather. When Cal glanced in the rearview again, James was tugging at the immaculate knot in his tie.

“There’s a side street a few blocks from your meeting,” Cal announced. “It usually has plenty of parking at this time of day, even for a car this size.” He let himself grin this time. “And there’s usually no one around.”

“Is that . . . uh, is that right?”

“It is.” Cal put on the car’s turn signal. “So if you want to make it to your meeting on time, I would suggest you work quickly.”

“Work . . .” James cleared his throat again. “Callum, what are you doing?”

“I’ll break it down for you.” Cal steered the car down the side street. “I love watching you on your knees. I love hearing you beg.” He eased the car to a stop beside the kerb and shifted into park. “And to be perfectly honest, I don’t feel like waiting until your meeting is over.”

He killed the engine, and was rewarded with a nervous gulp from James.

Cal turned around and met his eyes, this time without the aid of the mirror. “If I come back there, am I going to be satisfied when I come out?”

James swallowed hard and tugged at his tie again. “I . . .”

“Simple question, James.” Cal narrowed his eyes a little. “We don’t have much time, and I’m sure as hell not going to beg.”

“Y-you should come back here, then.”

Holy f*ck, is this really working?

“Should I?” Cal arched an eyebrow. “Are you telling me to come back there?”

“Cal, please,” James whispered, lowering his gaze. “C-come back here. Please.”

Cal turned and pointed at the legroom.

James looked flustered but slid off the seat and knelt in his own damn limo.

Cal got out and opened James’s door. He made a show of settling in and pulling it shut, then opened his legs and leaned back in the seat.

James’s eyes were glued to Cal’s groin, and that attention ramped up Cal’s arousal, which had started out somewhat dampened by nerves, but now that he paid it attention, he was almost taken aback at how strong it was and how fast he’d fully hardened.

He’d been similarly surprised when he’d watched Spencer submit to Nick, with him as proxy. Anxiety normally killed his erection, but he was looking forward to playing all this by ear, as Nick would have phrased it. Just relax and go by instinct, and those instincts wouldn’t have to battle at all against that other set of instincts.

“So, James.” He ran his fingers through James’s expensive haircut.

Touching the head is a dominant gesture. Touching a sub anywhere without hesitating and like you own them is dominant. Nick had put his hands on Cal’s shoulders, and though Nick was shorter than he was, Cal had immediately bristled. Nick had released him with a grin that said he’d just proven his point.

“Cal.” James glanced at his watch. “Please.”

Take away their control over their environment.

“Give me your watch.”

James grimaced.

“Just do it.” Cal tightened his grip in James’s hair. “You want to be on time. I control the time. Give me the watch.”

James quickly took it off and gave it to him. “Please, Cal.”

Okay, this was heady stuff. He wouldn’t have dreamed two weeks ago he could have manoeuvred James into this position. Hell, he’d never even thought he’d wanted more than to f*ck James. Fucking his mind? Priceless. Even if it ended up costing Cal half his paycheque—Nick was worth it.

“You promised to satisfy me.”

“Yes.”

“Then do it. And no spilling on your nice suit. Can’t have the other partners smell me on you, can we?”

James shuddered, head to toes.

Fuck, this was fun.

Cal let go of James’s hair. James’s eyes were locked on Cal’s hands as he reached for his belt. Cal was about to unbuckle it, but paused. Then he reached back and laced his fingers behind his head.

“Suck me off, James.”

James didn’t hesitate. He leaned forwards, seemingly not even a little bit concerned about wrinkling or dirtying his expensive suit as he unbuckled the belt that was part of Cal’s chauffeur uniform. A gold ring on his finger glinted as his shaking hands manoeuvred the top button and the zipper, and he muttered something under his breath as he hurriedly—but carefully—freed Cal’s hard cock from his trousers.

As soon as James went down on him, Cal was ready to lose his mind. James’s mouth and hands were enthusiastic as ever, but it was the fact that this had worked—from a few commands in the driver’s seat to this—that blew his mind.

“That’s good, James,” he murmured. He put a hand on the back of James’s head, and James shuddered.

James groaned and bobbed his head a little faster over Cal’s cock. God, he was good. And though time was of the essence here, James’s shiny watch ticking unobtrusively on the seat beside them, Cal wasn’t rushing. No hurrying through to get from point A to point Climax.