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 “meetings” 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.