James whimpered softly.
Cal kissed the back of his shoulder. “I want you to put on one of those condoms I sent you out to buy. I want you to lube it up.” He raised his chin so his lips almost touched James’s ear. “And I want you to fuck me, James.”
James shuddered so violently, Cal thought he might have come, but his hand kept moving.
Cal squeezed his wrist. “Stop.”
James obeyed immediately.
“Just because you’re fucking me, though,” Cal murmured in James’s ear. “Make no mistake: I am in charge. Understood?”
James nodded.
“Understood?”
“Yes.”
Cal lifted his hands to his shirt, then thought better of it. Damn, decades of habits didn’t die easily. He stood at ease, then lifted his arms halfway. “Undress me. Show me what it means to you.”
What it means to you? Holy shit, that was pretty damn good.
James gave a small needy sound, which meant he shared the sentiment.
Not missing Nick now, are you?
But the pang of jealousy changed to a secret pleasure in the conspiracy with Nick in a mere moment. Nick wasn’t the enemy. Nick was the best fucking ally he’d ever had. He’d delivered James to him on a silver platter—the guy who’d just knelt down to untie Cal’s shoelaces with a focus and attention that was out of proportion for the simple act and yet was doing exactly what Cal had ordered.
Show me what it means to you.
Cal allowed James to carefully lift his leg and slip the shoe off one foot, then the other. Socks, too, James’s fingers all gentle, not rushing, yet working efficiently. Cal reached down to touch James’s head, so tempted to cut this short or at least adjust himself, but he had to be in control—for James, for himself—because otherwise he would beg for it, and that was not the plan tonight.
James stood again, and Cal tried not to notice that removing his shoes had also diminished his height. He didn’t need to be as tall as James to dominate him. Another lesson he’d learned from Nick and Spencer.
Raising his chin slightly, he watched James’s eyes, but James wasn’t looking at him. He focused intently on unbuttoning Cal’s shirt, his fingers moving quickly but carefully. The stark naked businessman obediently undressing his chauffeur; could this evening get any more surreal?
When James reached the last button above Cal’s waistband, he unbuckled Cal’s belt. He carefully slid it free and set it aside, arranging each piece of Cal’s clothing in a much neater pile than he had his own.
The room was comfortably warm, but the air was cool against the skin James exposed with each obedient motion. Tugging Cal’s shirt free from his waistband. Pushing it over his shoulders. Carefully unbuttoning the cuffs before sliding them over Cal’s hands.
All the while, Cal couldn’t take his eyes off James’s mouth. He loved everything that man’s mouth was capable of, from kissing him to sucking him off, and as he stood still while James slowly undressed him, he wondered what else his mouth could do.
As James drew down Cal’s zip, Cal spoke without even thinking: “Do you like having your neck kissed, James?”
James’s hands froze. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and met Cal’s eyes. “Yes. I do.”
“So do I.”
Their eyes locked. Cal’s heart pounded, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if James’s did as well.
James swallowed. “Do you want . . .?”
Cal couldn’t quite remember how to speak, so he nodded.
James shifted his weight. His fingers left Cal’s zip, the sudden break in contact jarring Cal. Then he reached up, faltering briefly before his hand rested on Cal’s shoulder. As he leaned in, he met Cal’s eyes again, the unspoken question deepening the creases in his forehead.
Cal tilted his head slightly to expose the side of his throat. James hesitated, and then kissed Cal’s neck. Cal bit his lip, closing his eyes as warm, soft lips met his skin. James’s five-o’clock shadow was deliciously abrasive, grazing Cal’s skin and making him shiver. As James explored his neck, kissing up and down from his jaw to his collarbone, Cal fought to keep his wits about him. To remember he was supposed to be in charge. In control. He was not supposed to get completely lost in . . . in . . .
Holy fuck, James’s lips were amazing.
Cal ran an unsteady hand through James’s hair. He swept his tongue across his lips, and finally managed to whisper, “You’re going to do this while you’re fucking me.”
“Anything.” James’s voice was nothing but a warm breath against his neck. God, how had he managed to have sex without this?