Just thinking about that made his cock harder. Thank God he’d worn a jacket. As if walking across an upper-crust hotel lobby with a rentboy on his arm didn’t scream “I’m going to exchange money for sex” even without the prominent hard-on in his pants.
Some nights, he was a little uncomfortable with that, and carefully avoided eye contact with the employees on his way to the elevator. But though he didn’t look at them tonight as he and Jason made their way across the expansive, ornate lobby, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. No, Blake was simply a man on a mission. A man on his way into a negotiation for something hotter, faster, and quite possibly more dangerous than that candy-apple red sports car parked at home in his garage.
As they waited for the elevator—the same one he’d ridden with Tristan and Jared a few times—his heart shifted into overdrive. He didn’t give a flying fuck how much this night ended up costing him. The money was there, and the sex was going to be worth it. He could feel it.
The elevator doors opened, and Blake stepped inside with Jason. Pulse pounding, he silently begged the doors to shut quickly. Someone needed to be pinned to the wall with a hand over their dick. Blake didn’t care if that meant him or Jason, as long as it happened soon. Like within the next few seconds. Like fucking now. His fingers curled at his sides.
Come on, come on . . .
“I assume you have plenty of lube,” Jason said quietly.
Blake’s mind suddenly lit up with every possible way the two of them could use lube—fucking, being fucked, handjobs, crazy arrangements ripped right from the director’s cut of the Kama Sutra—and he shivered. Jason laughed softly. Bastard.
Finally, the fucking doors started to close. Blake breathed slowly, evenly. Waiting. Ready to grab Jason and—
A hand shot between the closing doors.
“Bloody hell.” A man in a suit chuckled as he stepped in with them. “Nearly missed that one, didn’t I?”
“We held it just for you,” Jason said so cheerfully the man probably didn’t detect the sarcasm.
Evidently not, since the intruder laughed and pressed the button for the floor below the penthouse. Right below Blake’s floor. Goddammit.
The doors closed, and no one stopped them this time. Blake kept his gaze fixed on the numbers as the elevator lurched upward. He didn’t recall the elevators in this hotel being quite so slow. Then again, the traffic from Market Garden to here had been unusually light—evidently the gods favored no one in this town.
The elevator halted at the other man’s floor, and he murmured, “Cheers,” on his way out. Blake stabbed the Close Doors button with his thumb, and whispered, “Thank God,” when they obeyed.
“Impatient?” Jason asked with a grin as they continued up to the penthouse. “I do like when my clients are enthusiastic.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Blake moistened his lips, which were suddenly dry. “But if this thing goes any slower, I might have to get your price for elevator sex.”
Jason slid his hand over Blake’s ass and stood up on his toes enough to whisper in his ear, “If this thing goes any slower, elevator sex will be free.” Though his tone was calm, there was a hungry undercurrent that made Blake’s heart race. Didn’t matter if it was an act or not—the thought of Jason itching for it like he was made his palms sweat.
But the elevator got its shit together and didn’t make Jason put his money where his mouth was—as it were—and, at last, let them out on their floor. Blake rested a hand on the small of Jason’s back and guided him down the hall, and they stopped in front of Blake’s door.
So help me God, if my key doesn’t work, I will set this entire place on fire.
But the key worked.
And the door opened.
And Jason was in Blake’s room.
Blake managed to hang out the Do Not Disturb sign and then closed the door. Jason walked a few steps into the center of the room, and quickly scanned it before his gaze returned to Blake.
Blake pulled his tie loose, took it off, and tossed it onto the chair in the corner near the foot of the bed. “Now the money talk.”
Jason stepped closer—again a movement right from a stage, somewhat exaggerated but elegant. “Money, and terms and conditions.”
Blake licked his lips. “What’s the starting bid?”
“Hmm.” Jason ran a finger along Blake’s lips, then moved so close that Blake felt his breath on his face. “I like your cuff links.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“No, you don’t understand. I’ll take the cuff links as payment.”
They were eighteen-karat gold and had been with him for so long he barely remembered when he’d bought them. “Interesting choice. Why those and not cash?”
“They’re expensive and personal.” Jason grinned. “I got the feeling I might want to take a keepsake from you.”
“Like a stuffed animal head on the wall.”
“Well, one head will be getting mounted and stuffed.” He delivered it so masterfully in that understated British way that Blake nearly missed the joke.