Nick looked at Frank.
His boss gestured at the front door with his pen. “Go. I don’t want to see your face here tomorrow night, either.”
Nick’s heart skipped. “Are you firing—”
“No, of course not.” Frank laughed. “You practically pay for this place. Just get out of here, recharge, and come back later this week.”
“What about paying for my place?” Nick asked. Okay, so he had money stashed away, but he didn’t like the idea of a dip in his income.
Frank pulled out his wallet. As Nick watched, disbelieving, the man pulled a few bills free and slid them across the table. “Three hundred. Not quite what you make in a night, but it’ll soften the blow.”
Nick regarded the money warily. “You’re paying me to—”
“Yes. I’m paying my top earner to go home, get his shit together, and come back so he can earn that money this weekend. When it really counts.”
Chewing his lip, Nick hesitated. Then he took the cash off the table and slid it into his pocket. “All right. Thanks. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Frank responded with a mock salute, but didn’t say anything.
On the way out, Nick checked his texts again. No new ones had come through, and the last one was over an hour old. No way Spencer was lying awake waiting for a reply. Though he might’ve been lying awake wondering why he’d ever agreed to this cock-and-ball torture.
Stomach winding itself into knots, Nick slid his phone into his pocket alongside the money Frank had given him. If Nick texted or called Spencer and asked if he wanted some company, the answer would most likely be an enthusiastic yes. Possibly an apologetic I have to be up early for work or Need to rest before I meet this idiot client tomorrow, but still most likely an affirmative.
Much as he wanted to spend the evening with Spencer—they didn’t even have to fuck, just sleep in the same bed or even be in the same room—he didn’t make the call. He needed to sort this out on his own.
On the other hand, maybe being close to Spencer was what he needed to sort this out. He could pretend it was under the guise of torturing him with more chastity play.
The device is off now, he could tell him before they got into bed, but now you just have to go to sleep with me in bed next to you.
Spencer would bite his lip, maybe even whimper with frustration, but he’d do what he was told. Then Nick would lie there beside him. All night. And Spencer would never know that Nick wasn’t just there to torment him. He was there because he needed him.
Nick pulled out his phone again. Too late for company tonight? He hesitated, but finally sent the message.
Phone in hand, he paced on the sidewalk, occasionally glancing at the cabs waiting along the curb for johns and prostitutes on their way out. He could grab one now. Tell the driver to wait a moment while he figured out where he was going. But, no, Nick waited.
His phone buzzed, and he almost dropped it in his hurry to pull it up and read the message.
I have to be up at the crack of dawn for a meeting.
Nick’s heart dropped into his feet. He struggled to come up with a duly snarky response, the kind of message Spencer would be expecting.
Then the phone buzzed again.
But you’re still welcome to come over. Just can’t stay up too much later.
Relief washed over Nick. He quickly thumbed back, I’ll be there ASAP.
He slipped into one of the cabs, waved a fifty at the cabbie, and gave him Spencer’s address.
When they arrived, lights were on in Spencer’s hallway. He dropped the fifty with the driver and nearly jumped out of the car and ran up to Spencer’s door. A ring, ten seconds that felt longer, and the door opened, Spencer wearing a bathrobe and slippers. He looked very awake, and Nick exhaled some of the tension he’d been holding.
“Come on in.” Spencer let him inside, then closed and locked the door behind him.
“Thanks.” Nick pulled him down for a quick kiss—which drew out longer than expected. “How’s the package?” He cupped the steel cage through the bathrobe.
“Pretty secure.” Spencer grimaced half-comically. “As intended.”
“Yes.” Nick looked Spencer over, feeling acutely how hungry he was for that sight. The smile, the way Spencer dropped his gaze when he stared at him, the fact that Spencer was still awake or had got up again. He didn’t want to look at anybody else like that. Didn’t, in all honesty, care one bit for anybody else’s submission but Spencer’s. “Lucky I have the keys.” He patted his pocket.
Spencer looked hopeful. “As you wish.”
But Spencer clearly wished, too. And damn, so did Nick. It wasn’t just the mehs, or tiredness, or burnout. Those weren’t selective—they applied to everything and everybody. But they didn’t apply to Spencer. Spencer could have been the only sub on the planet, pretty much the only man on the planet, and wouldn’t have had a stronger effect on Nick.