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.
“Being with . . .?” Cal raised his eyebrows.
James swallowed hard. “You.”
Goose bumps prickled their way down Cal’s spine. “You didn’t mind me telling you what to do.” He left off the lilt at the end so there was no mistaking the statement for a question.
James nodded.
“Answer me.”
“No,” James said quickly, his posture stiffening as if the sharp command had startled him. “No, I didn’t mind at all.”
Cal smiled. “I didn’t think so.” He let his gaze drift downwards, drinking in every inch of James, noting that his necktie was looser now. He imagined him tugging at it in the lift, or at the shop while he’d searched for the supplies Cal had demanded. As his gaze slid lower, Cal took in the way James’s chest rose and fell a little more rapidly than usual; he wasn’t out of breath per se, but breathing harder than normal. And just below that expensive leather belt, his trousers tented with a growing erection.
James shifted a bit, his fingers curling at his sides and his cheeks colouring again. Cal imagined he was struggling not to adjust himself or otherwise hide his hard-on.
Cal beckoned to him. Gulping, James took a step forwards. Then another. Now they were only a foot apart, if that, and Cal felt as nervous as James looked. He forced himself not to let it show.
“We have a hotel room,” he whispered, and just as he’d hoped, James leaned in a little to hear him better. “We have condoms and lube. Tell me, James. Why are we here?”
Before James could answer, Cal reached across the narrow divide and cupped James’s cock through his trousers.
James’s lips parted and he closed his eyes. “Shit . . .”
“Look at me.”
No response.
“Look at me.”
James’s eyes flew open, and though he seemed to be struggling, he obeyed.
“I asked you a question, James.” Cal ran his thumb along the outline of the man’s dick. “Why are we here?”
James licked his lips. “Because I wanted . . . I . . .” He shuddered as Cal’s thumb slid over the head of his cock. “Oh my God.”
“You wanted what?” Cal squeezed him through his trousers. “Answer me before I decide I want to go back to the house and—”
“Because I hoped you wanted more.” The words spilled out of James so quickly they were almost impossible to make out. His eyes widened. Slower now, he said, “I hoped . . . after this morning, I hoped you wanted more.”
Cal couldn’t keep himself from shivering. With his other hand, he reached for James’s neck, and he drew him down until their lips were nearly touching. “Oh, you’re right. I do want more.” James’s wide-eyed stare was all rabbit-in-the-headlights, their customary power dynamic completely reversed. Cal seemed to be the center of James’s perception, his attention, his world right now, which gave Cal a kick that fanned his own desire. Being wanted like that was heady stuff. Reducing James to stammering need—hot.