If It Drives (Market Garden, #7)(30)

The more controlled you are, the more it’ll frustrate him, but it’ll also turn him on.

“You keep those in there for the rentboys, don’t you?”

Colour appeared in James’s cheeks. He glanced at the condoms and lube in his hand. “I do, yes.”

“Hmm.” Cal eyed them, then shook his head. “I want you to go to the shops and get some specifically for us to use.”

James’s eyes widened. “But I—” His teeth snapped shut when Cal arched an eyebrow. “Okay. Sure. I’ll . . .” He set the condoms and lube on a gaudy table beside the door. “Any brand preference?”

“None.” Cal grinned. “Just make sure you get plenty of both.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement James needed to head out of the door. He was so eager he even forgot the key card.

Now, if James was clever, he’d just head to reception and let them deal with the “situation.” He could sit in the hotel café, drink a cappuccino, and wait for some lackey to handle Cal’s request. Cal himself had no idea where the next supermarket or Boots was—the rents right next to Hyde Park were sky-high—he’d only seen luxury hotels, penthouses, and restaurants along the street as they’d come here.

Or maybe James would get a cab and ask to be taken to the nearest such place. Somehow, Cal doubted very much that James, the alpha deal-maker, had it in him to wait. Maybe he knew Cal would ask. Maybe he didn’t want to risk Cal’s quiet disappointment and the inevitable frustration that would follow. Maybe he’d follow the order to the letter because it was a game and it turned them both on.

And he wasn’t going to risk that f*ck by cutting corners.

The power was absolutely heady. Cal walked up to the balcony, opened the doors, and stepped out onto it, to breathe some air and stare out over Hyde Park. He pulled out his phone and checked it for texts. Brought up Nick’s contact details and typed a quick message.

You’re a f*cking genius, you know that - Cal.

He leaned out over the park and imagined James running around frantically trying to score supplies in this area. Bond Street wasn’t far away, but he wasn’t exactly looking for a diamond-encrusted cock ring.

Yep, I know. Genius at f*cking, too. ;)

Cal laughed. He wrote back, He’s rented us a room at the Mandarin Oriental. Just sent him out to get “supplies.”

A few minutes later, the response came: Nice. Make him work for everything.

Cal was about to reply, but a sharp knock drew his attention back into the room. He pocketed his mobile, closed the balcony door, and went to the main entrance.

When he opened it, James was standing on the other side, his expression unreadable but the small bag in his outstretched hands like a divine offering. Cal stood aside. “Put them next to the bed.”

James swept past him. Cal casually closed the door and turned the dead bolt. Not that anyone would try to come in, or would have access anyway, but he liked the idea of caging the two of them in this room together. There was no turning back now.

James waited for him beside the bed, the bag sitting on the nightstand as Cal had requested. No, as he’d ordered.

You’re not asking him to do things, Nick had said. You’re telling him.

And Cal remembered how Spencer had shivered when Nick had said that. The way Nick tenderly stroked the man’s head, grinning like the sadist he was. Spencer liked it, and so did James. Cal just hoped he could do this right.

As he slowly made his way across the room to where James waited with his shoulders back and his gaze lowered, the only sounds were Cal’s quiet footsteps and the plastic bag uncrumpling softly in the background. His heart thundered in his ears. He thought about how Nick had been confident, even a little arrogant, ensuring that things would happen exactly as he commanded them to. Cal summoned every reserve of boldness he had and hoped to God it was enough. James needed something from him, and Cal was going to get this right.

He stopped an arm’s length from James. The bed beside them, perfectly made and undisturbed for the moment, was conspicuous. Waiting for them to rumple the duvet and burn up the sheets.

Don’t watch the clock. You have all the time in the world, and if you’re torturing yourself by holding out, you can bet it’s ten times worse for him. And with the most evil grin imaginable, Nick had added, Or ten times better, as the case may be.

Cal fixed his gaze on James. “This morning in the car. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

James’s eyes flicked up and met his. “I did, yes.”

“Why?”

Three creases formed on James’s forehead. “Pardon?”

“Why?” Cal tilted his head slightly, trying to emulate Nick’s borderline menacing inquisitiveness. “What was it you enjoyed about it?”

James swallowed. “Uh. I . . .”

Cal shifted his weight and made a point of exhaling hard enough to convey exaggerated impatience.

James idly tugged at his sleeve. “G-getting you off.”

Keeping his expression neutral was a challenge, but Cal hoped he was succeeding. “Is that all?”

“It was . . .” A cautious grin drew up the corners of James’s mouth. “It was hot. Being in the back of the car like that. And being with—” He cut himself off, colour rushing into his cheeks.