If It Drives (A Market Garden Tale)

  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 fuck 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.

  “Just like that,” he whispered, and James gave him even more, stroking harder with his hand and teasing the head of Cal’s cock with his tongue. The blowjob, the power, the gorgeous man kneeling in front of him—Cal had to grip the headrest behind him to anchor himself.

  He blinked his eyes into focus and watched James. Watched his own fingers alternately running through James’s hair and gripping the back of his neck. Watched a shiver visibly run through the man.

  Remember, you’re in control, and he needs to know that. Constantly.

  Cal swallowed, and somehow managed to speak. “That’s perfect, James.” He ran his fingertips across the back of James’s neck. “Keep doing that, just like that, and I’ll reward you later.”

  A moan bordering on a whimper vibrated against Cal’s cock, and he closed his eyes, too close to the edge to even think about speaking, or thinking, or—

  Best reward for a sub? His Dom’s pleasure and approval.

  “Fuck, yes,” he ground out, and shuddered hard as he came in James’s mouth. He dug his fingers into James’s scalp, gripped the headrest with his other hand, arched off the seat . . . God, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d come this hard from a blowjob.

  When it became too much, he gently nudged James away. James sat back on his heels, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and met Cal’s eyes.

  Breathing hard, Cal tucked himself back in and zipped up his trousers. Then he leaned forwards and touched James’s face. “That was perfect.”

  James smiled, and relaxed slightly, as if he’d been waiting for that approval so he could release his breath.

  Cal kissed him lightly. Then he sat back. “Get yourself straightened up. You have to be at your meeting soon.”

  James blinked. “My . . . oh. Right.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his sleeve. “We should head over there.”

  “We should.” Cal handed James back his watch, but before he let it go, said, “You did well. For that, I’m going to fuck you later.”

  James’s lips parted. When Cal let go of the watch, James nearly dropped it, fumbling with both hands.

  Cal just grinned, buckled his belt, and stepped out of the car.

  Thankfully, driving was damn near instinctive now, so he got them both to Threadneedle Street in one piece.

  James busied himself with his papers, quickly rearranging the folders in his briefcase. When Cal pulled up and opened the door for him, James seemed reluctant to leave the car. Maybe he was giving his hard-on a chance to come down?

  He stood though, and paused, facing Cal. Cal schooled his features, but he couldn’t help a smile tugging at his lips. He’d have to ask Nick how to perfect that poker face, but damn, he liked the heat in James’s gaze. It was almost a challenge—or was it an intense look in a situation that didn’t allow a touch or even very many words?

  “When will you need me again, sir?” Well, James might not feel like he could play, but Cal sure could.

  James’s eyes widened in surprise. “I need you immediately, Callum, but that’s not an option.”

  “Damn,” Cal murmured back. “Actual times?”

  “I’ll text you.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  James rushed towards the entrance, and Cal chuckled. He got in the car again and ran some errands—dry-cleaning, shopping in one of the express shops catering to the office drone population of the financial district. He had lunch with his uncle and aunt, had the air pressure on the tyres checked, and then settled in one of the numerous coffee shops in the city to write. He spent some time on the last few chapters of his sci-fi novel, writing longhand for a couple hours, and then went back and cleaned up last week’s writing.

  He was halfway through an incredibly messy scene involving his main characters and a bar brawl that was getting deliciously out of hand when his mobile buzzed.

  20 min, please.

  Please? That was an unusual addition. Cal smiled and texted that he was on his way. Then he scooped up all his papers and left the coffee shop.

  Though he was about fifteen minutes from where the meeting had been held, he didn’t rush. He knew the drill with these guys. James himself was punctual as hell, but the same couldn’t be said for the men he worked with. Twenty minutes meant thirty-five. If James had said forty-five minutes, Cal could have gone and had a full-body massage, edited a chapter, and still had time to stand outside waiting for the meeting to wrap up.

  But when he pulled up this time, James was on the pavement. He was standing with some other guys, each of them holding leather briefcases that probably cost as much as Nick’s Dom lessons, and as soon as he saw the limo, James excused himself from the conversation. By the time Cal was out of the car, James was already beside the rear door.

  “I thought you’d be a few more minutes.” Cal reached for the door handle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting, sir.”

  James smiled. “It’s all right.” He started to get in, but paused, one foot in the car and one hand on top of the door. “I have one other . . . appointment this afternoon.”

  Cal shrugged. “All right. The address?”

  “Sixty-six Knightsbridge.”

  Cal nodded. They exchanged smiles, though James’s was somehow . . . odd, before James finished getting into the car.

  As Cal shifted the car into drive, he ran the address through his head. Sixty-six Knightsbridge. Wasn’t that where all the . . .

  No. James didn’t have meetings in luxury hotels in broad daylight on a weekday. He only had “meetin
gs” there on the odd Friday or Saturday night.

  “Sorry to bother you, sir.” Cal glanced in the mirror. “What was that address again?”

  “Sixty-six Knightsbridge.”

  Cal hesitated. So James had an “appointment” in a hotel during the day. Well, wasn’t that lovely. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out into traffic. Maybe he’d “reward” James later, then, after the man had recharged his batteries. Or maybe he wouldn’t.

  Leather squeaked behind him, and he realised James had moved closer to the privacy window again. “When we get there, valet the car.”

  “Valet the—” He threw James a puzzled look in the rearview. “Valet this thing?”

  “Why not?”

  Because if the idiots scratch it, I’m in deep shit? And because I—

  Wait.

  He glanced at the mirror again, nearly snapping his neck. “What are—”

  The look on James’s face said it all. That grin. The slightly raised eyebrows and creased forehead. The unspoken please let me do this.

  Cal faced forwards and drove just a little bit faster.

  The valets were understandably surprised to be parking a car like this when the driver was available, but they didn’t say anything. And James had already gone inside to check in, so they couldn’t give James and Cal any weird looks.

  Even if they did, Cal ignored them, and hurried inside. He’d helped James with luggage in places like this before, but to be walking into this ornate lobby with the intent to use one of the hotel’s rooms? That was a strange feeling. Especially when he was joining that businessman with the expensive watch instead of leaving him to a “meeting” with whatever equally suited and booted piece of arse he’d hooked up with.

  Without speaking, without looking around to see if anyone had noticed how mismatched they were, Cal and James headed for the lift. Cal’s heart pounded. What was going through James’s mind right now? Another thirty, thirty-five minutes of driving and they would have been home. By the time they’d make it into their room, they could have nearly been back to James’s house and his bedroom and that huge, comfortable bed.

  The lift pinged. They stepped out, and Cal followed James down the hall.

  James keyed open the door, and gestured for Cal to go in ahead of him. Cal did, and for a moment, he just looked around, taking in the extravagant accommodations. They were in one of the hotel’s turrets, and the walls were curved instead of sharply angled. Thick carpet beneath their feet. Expensive-looking artwork on the walls. Everything was cream coloured with blue accents and dark hardwood furniture. Cal probably couldn’t have afforded a single thing in here—not even the gleaming handles on the balcony doors or the decorative pillows in the cosy living area—never mind a night’s stay. The night they were spending here probably cost more than a month in his old flat.

  “Callum.”

  He turned around.

  Eyes locked on Cal’s, James unbuttoned his coat. “I don’t know what happened in the car earlier. But I . . . I couldn’t wait. I need this.”

  Cal swallowed.

  James started to shrug off his coat.

  You control every action, every word. Everything.

  “I didn’t tell you to take that off.”

  James froze. Cal’s heart beat faster. They stared at each other, and Cal had no idea who was more surprised by what he’d said.

  Then James pulled his coat back on and straightened it. “Y-you’re right. You didn’t. Sorry.” His eyes flicked downwards.

  “You made the arrangements,” Cal said. “You picked this place out and brought me here.” He folded his arms across his chest and raised his chin slightly. “Why?”

  James’s Adam’s apple jumped. “You don’t want to be here?”

  “I asked you a question.”

  James glanced down again. “I wanted to bring you here. So we could . . .”

  “In a hurry for me to fuck you?”

  Closing his eyes, James released a ragged breath and shivered. “Yes. I want you, Cal. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about . . .” He paused. “After this morning, I just couldn’t wait.”

  Cal struggled to keep that cool exterior intact. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and tear James’s clothes off and fuck him. Maybe not even make it to that massive bed on the other side of the room. Just drag him down to the floor and fuck him until they both had rug burn on their knees.

  But he liked where this was going. James had set the stage and brought them here, but now he was waiting for Cal to make a move. He was right in the palm of Cal’s hand.

  Cal raised his chin a little, holding James’s gaze. “I can’t fuck you without condoms and lube.”

  James grinned sheepishly. “Already thought of that.”

  “Did you, now?”

  He nodded and reached into his inside pocket. “I always keep some in the car.”

  Cal was already getting hard just thinking about all the things he wanted to do to James. The foil packets and that small clear bottle did nothing to help keep his thoughts on track.

  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 fuck 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 fucking 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 fucking, 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.