On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(35)

“You probably had a better chance than you thought.” Jason smiled. “And you wouldn’t have been disappointed, that much I can promise you.”

“You know from experience?”

Jason nodded. “Raoul and I have fooled around a few times. He really is only the bartender, not one of . . . you know, one of us. But when I told him Zach was on board for this, he jumped at the chance.”

“Bit of a crush?”

“You might say that.” Jason chuckled. “The thing is, they’re both Doms. Or, well, Raoul sometimes switches, but he’s mostly a Dom, and Zach doesn’t switch at all.” He licked his lips. “Put a submissive between them, and it’s on.”

“You’ve never struck me as particularly submissive.”

“That’s because you don’t need or want a submissive.” Jason ran a fingertip along the side of Blake’s arm. “I’m whatever turns my partner on.”

“So you don’t have a preference there?”

Jason shook his head. “No. I don’t need to dominate or submit any more than I need to be on top or on the bottom. Either role can be fun. As long as my partner is getting off . . .” He shrugged.

“Or the person watching, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Blake shivered. Over and over, the things they’d done replayed in his mind, like his own personal customized porno with Jason front and center. He swallowed. “So you don’t mind . . . performing? I mean, not only for your partner, but for an audience?”

Jason grinned. “I did start out as a stripper.”

“Point taken. Did you enjoy that?”

“A lot. It’s where I met Jared and Tristan too.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. And my God, those two are amazing dancers. Especially Jared.”

“Yes. Jared.” Jason shivered. “Nobody dances like him.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“You’ve seen him go?”

Blake nodded. “Something about him said dancer to me, so I paid him to give Tristan a lap dance.”

Jason’s lips parted. “Oh f*ck. I never even thought of that. Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

“Hmm. I may have to keep that in mind next time I hang out with them.”

“Well, if you do . . .” Blake cleared his throat. “Don’t, uh, be shy about connecting to Skype . . .”

Their eyes met, and they both laughed.

“I’ll pass the message along.” Jason winked. “Somehow, I think they’d be game. They’re done being rentboys, but they’ve never exactly objected to the idea of having another go with Rolex.”

Blake cocked his head. “Rolex?”

“Mm-hmm. That’s what they called you.”

“Is that right?”

Jason nodded. He reached for the watch on the bedside table, and picked it up. He carefully turned it between his fingers, seeming to scrutinize every detail just like Blake had when he’d bought it. “I can see why they gave you the nickname. This is quite the timepiece. It certainly, uh, stands out.” His eyes flicked toward Blake. “It’s lovely too.”

“Thanks.”

“This is how I knew who you were, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

Jason held the watch up, then leaned over to gently set it on the bedside table. “Well, as I said, they called you Rolex. When they told me you’d be asking for me, they said to be on the lookout for the gold Rolex.”

“I see. I had no idea they named me after my watch, though.”

Chuckling, Jason settled beside Blake again. “We all have nicknames for clients. Sometimes because we don’t know their real names. Sometimes because we don’t want to know. For a while, there was a regular who someone dubbed Red Tie. Then there was—”

“Wait, so only one guy came into Market Garden wearing a red tie or a Rolex?”

“Well, no. I think there’s three or four regulars these days called Wingtip. Doesn’t really separate them from the population at large, but if Raoul tells me that Pocket Square is waiting for me at a booth, it’s fairly easy to pick him out. You were a little more difficult because you can’t always readily see someone’s watch, and you’re hardly the only one to wear something like that into the Garden. But then you approached me, and you had an American accent. So I asked you the time, and sure enough . . .” He pointed toward the watch.

Blake’s mind went back to the night he’d met Jason. “That does explain it.”

“They did give me an idea of what you looked like, too, but the watch was the giveaway.” Jason glanced at it. “So what made you go for that particular one, anyway? I mean, there are Rolexes, and there are . . . Rolexes.”

“Yeah, I thought about going for one of the more understated ones, but once I started getting serious about buying one, I decided, go big or go home. I’d promised myself in college I’d get one once I was in a position to afford one, but when that happened, it hadn’t been that long since I’d had to move back into my mom’s house to get back on my feet. And since I was on my feet again, I guess it was . . . kind of a period of figuring out that not only had I made it, but that even after I’d fallen flat on my face, I’d recovered and was well on my way to the top. I’d really made it.”