On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(6)

Evidently not, since the intruder laughed and pressed the button for the floor below the penthouse. Right below Blake’s floor. Goddammit.

The doors closed, and no one stopped them this time. Blake kept his gaze fixed on the numbers as the elevator lurched upward. He didn’t recall the elevators in this hotel being quite so slow. Then again, the traffic from Market Garden to here had been unusually light—evidently the gods favored no one in this town.

The elevator halted at the other man’s floor, and he murmured, “Cheers,” on his way out. Blake stabbed the Close Doors button with his thumb, and whispered, “Thank God,” when they obeyed.

“Impatient?” Jason asked with a grin as they continued up to the penthouse. “I do like when my clients are enthusiastic.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Blake moistened his lips, which were suddenly dry. “But if this thing goes any slower, I might have to get your price for elevator sex.”

Jason slid his hand over Blake’s ass and stood up on his toes enough to whisper in his ear, “If this thing goes any slower, elevator sex will be free.” Though his tone was calm, there was a hungry undercurrent that made Blake’s heart race. Didn’t matter if it was an act or not—the thought of Jason itching for it like he was made his palms sweat.

But the elevator got its shit together and didn’t make Jason put his money where his mouth was—as it were—and, at last, let them out on their floor. Blake rested a hand on the small of Jason’s back and guided him down the hall, and they stopped in front of Blake’s door.

So help me God, if my key doesn’t work, I will set this entire place on fire.

But the key worked.

And the door opened.

And Jason was in Blake’s room.

Blake managed to hang out the Do Not Disturb sign and then closed the door. Jason walked a few steps into the center of the room, and quickly scanned it before his gaze returned to Blake.

Blake pulled his tie loose, took it off, and tossed it onto the chair in the corner near the foot of the bed. “Now the money talk.”

Jason stepped closer—again a movement right from a stage, somewhat exaggerated but elegant. “Money, and terms and conditions.”

Blake licked his lips. “What’s the starting bid?”

“Hmm.” Jason ran a finger along Blake’s lips, then moved so close that Blake felt his breath on his face. “I like your cuff links.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“No, you don’t understand. I’ll take the cuff links as payment.”

They were eighteen-karat gold and had been with him for so long he barely remembered when he’d bought them. “Interesting choice. Why those and not cash?”

“They’re expensive and personal.” Jason grinned. “I got the feeling I might want to take a keepsake from you.”

“Like a stuffed animal head on the wall.”

“Well, one head will be getting mounted and stuffed.” He delivered it so masterfully in that understated British way that Blake nearly missed the joke.

He cleared his throat. “I see why you and Tristan get along.” Blake thumbed one of the cuff links. “Same bizarre sense of humor.”

At that, Jason laughed. “We do have a few things in common, yes.” He watched Blake playing with the cuff links. “So are those on the table? Or do you prefer cash to bartering?”

“That depends.” Blake slid one of the cuff links free and held it up. Turning it between his fingers while Jason stared at it like a raven enraptured, he said, “What does a pair of eighteen-karat-gold cuff links get me?”

“I guess that depends.” Jason licked his lips and met Blake’s gaze. “What do you want?”

“I asked first.” Blake set the cuff link on the nightstand and started to take off the other one. “You opened the bids. Seems only fair you should tell me what we’re haggling over.”

The cuff link came free, and Jason again watched Blake turn it between his fingers.

“Maybe,” Blake said, deliberately making a slow gesture of setting the cuff link beside the first, “I should leave these right here.” The gold made a subtle clink as he set it down. “And we’ll . . . start. See how things go.”

Jason eyed him dubiously. “We should agree on a price beforehand.”

“Mm-hmm. But we’re dealing in currency that doesn’t have a set exchange rate.” Blake shrugged out of his jacket. “So why don’t we do what comes naturally, and when one of us decides the cuff links have been earned, they’re yours.”

Jason pursed his lips. “How do we know when it’s reached a fair price?”

Blake tossed his jacket over the chair on top of his tie. “We’ll negotiate it when we get there. When you think you’ve earned them, say so, and I’ll tell you if I agree. If I think you’ve earned them, I’ll say so.”

Jason hesitated, but then the most mouthwatering grin pulled at his lips. “I think I like the sound of this game.” He started unbuckling his belt.

They took off their clothes, and when Blake faced him, both of them completely naked now, he had to fight the urge to just hand over the cuff links. The sight of that gorgeous body was easily worth a couple grand. If Jason really did moonlight as a stripper, it was a wonder he didn’t own half of London. Royals and all.