If It Drives (A Market Garden Tale)

by Aleksandr Voinov

  Cal couldn’t help whimpering. He kissed James again, and reached down to get his trousers undone. Why the fuck had he worn a belt? That was just one more thing to fiddle with and undo before he could—

  I want you to fuck me. Just like you did last time.

  —have what he wanted.

  “I should . . . I should get undressed.” He was tempted to move in for another kiss, but much more of this and he’d come before he had his clothes off. “Get me a condom.”

  James didn’t hesitate. While Cal stood and peeled off his shirt, James opened the bedside table drawer. He pulled out a condom, and their eyes met as Cal stripped off his jeans and boxers.

  “Should I put it on you?” James raised his eyebrows, and Cal thought he saw an unspoken “Please?” in his eyes.

  Cal licked his lips. “Yes.”

  James threw back the covers and got out of bed. He dropped to his knees in front of Cal, and their eyes met again. Damn, but Cal liked the way James looked like this. Kneeling. Subservient. Hands trembling as he tore open the condom wrapper. When he steadied Cal’s dick with one hand, Cal gasped; he hadn’t realised until right then just how much foreplay they’d skipped. This first contact with his cock was to put a condom on so he could fuck James. And he couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait another second.

  “Hurry up,” he said through gritted teeth.

  In spite of his shaking hands, James moved faster. He was a little clumsy, but managed to roll the condom on properly. Then he took the bottle of lube from the same drawer.

  “Wait.”

  James froze. “What?”

  Cal grinned and reached for James’s face. James pressed against his hand, stubble hissing against Cal’s skin.

  “We’ll get to the lube in a minute. For now, I think you have”—he traced his thumb across James’s lower lip—“other ways of making sure my cock’s not too dry for you.”

  James shivered. He licked his lips, his tongue brushing Cal’s thumb, and it was all Cal could do not to shiver as well.

  He pulled his hand back. “Go on. You know what to do.”

  The lube bottle dropped to the floor, and James took Cal’s cock in his mouth. He didn’t seem at all put off by the latex, and though Cal couldn’t feel the wetness of James’s mouth and tongue, the view more than made up for it. He rocked his hips, thrusting gently between James’s lips. Watching his cock slide in and out was more of a turn-on than he’d expected, so he did it a little faster. James moaned softly, the vibration only slightly tempered by the condom, and easily and enthusiastically took everything Cal gave him.

  Cal bit his lip. Last time, he’d got carried away and come in James’s mouth, and he wouldn’t do that this time, but . . . God, he loved this. Just a little more . . . This was fodder for all kinds of fantasies starring James with Cal’s cock between his lips.

  “Uh. That’s enough.” Cal managed to pull away, though it was one of the hardest things he’d done in his life. “Shit, I should pay you for that.” He’d said it as a joke, but he saw James flush and his eyes widen, and something shifted. Like James had relaxed.

  Cal motioned sharply past James. “On the bed.”

  James stood and headed over, hesitantly, as if expecting something, but it was less awkward when they were both on the bed. This time, James was on hands and knees, legs open wide, offering everything he had. Cal took the lube and put some on the condom, distributing it evenly, forcing himself to think of something less appealing than James right in front of him because he really, really didn’t want to dive in headlong and screw things up.

  He rubbed some of the remaining lube into James’s opening, felt him tense and groan, because yeah, he was looser and reddened, so there had been some seriously vigorous fucking going on last night, but Cal trusted James when he said he wanted this.

  “Guy rode you hard, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” James’s voice sounded strained as Cal chose that moment to push inside him.

  “What did he do?”

  James gritted his teeth, lowered his head. “What . . . what you are doing.”

  Surveying James’s body, there were no traces, nothing that could have clued him in to what James liked. The man still hadn’t put all his cards on the table. Maybe this was what it had been like for his wife, though Cal would never ask. Maybe she’d had no idea what he wanted or needed, either.

  Only one way to find out, then. Cal rocked further inside and James gasped. Part of the kick for him had to be the discomfort. He really seemed to enjoy that part, so Cal thrust all the way in, and didn’t give James a chance to recover and adapt before he began to fuck him with deep, even strokes.

  James moaned, head lolling forwards as he rocked back against him.

  “Get yourself off,” Cal ordered. “Not before me, though.”

  “Understood.” James’s voice was still strained as he balanced mostly on one hand, widening his stance on his knees, allowing Cal to get even closer and keep him wide open with his own legs. And, holy fuck, it was just too damn good; the sounds James was making and how eagerly he pushed back, jerking himself off in time with Cal’s thrusts.

  “You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” Cal asked through his teeth.

  “Y-yes.” James’s whole body shook, and his shoulder rose and fell rapidly as he kept stroking himself. “Can’t help it when you . . . when . . . Oh, God . . .”

  Cal grinned. He was getting close too. Way too close.

  Abruptly, he shifted from thrusting to barely moving.

  James made a strangled, frustrated sound. His shoulder slowed.

  “I didn’t tell you to slow down.” Cal wrapped an arm around James and leaned over him until his lips almost touched the back of James’s neck. In a low whisper, he said, “Keep stroking. Same speed.”

  James growled something under his breath, but he did as he was told. Cal fucked him slowly, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his own orgasm at bay. Maybe he should have let James suck him off. Oh hell. If he came, then he’d just recharge, put James back on his knees, and fuck him all over again.

  That thought sent a shiver through him, which drove him into James a little faster, a little harder.

  James moaned beneath him. “Oh my God.”

  Cal screwed his eyes shut and sank his teeth into the back of James’s shoulder. James cried out, shuddering again, and as Cal fucked him still harder, whispered, “Please, let me come.”

  “No, no. Not yet.” Cal panted against his neck. Kissed the damp spot he’d just bitten. Thrust savagely into James. “You’re not . . . going to come . . . oh, fuck . . .”

  “Please. God, Cal, I’m so . . .”

  Cal couldn’t take another second. He sat up, grabbed James’s hips, and fucked him hard and deep, until he was sure it hurt, and James collapsed onto his forearm, his other arm still moving quickly as he kept obediently stroking his cock.

  Cal’s eyes started to roll back and he didn’t even have conscious control over his thrusts anymore. He didn’t have control over anything anymore, and as he started to come, he just managed to murmur, “Come.”

  James released the sexiest, most helpless cry Cal had ever heard, and he rocked back against Cal, meeting him thrust for thrust as they both fell apart. If Cal hadn’t been hurting him before, he certainly was now, and James loved it. He absolutely fucking loved it.

  And Cal loved making him feel that way, despite a faint residual sense of oh crap, what am I doing? Eventually, he could barely move anymore, too exhausted, too sated in every sense. This was what he’d been fighting against? Being with James, making him feel this way, blowing both their minds?

  He stopped and pulled out, and all but collapsed on the bed. As Cal tried to rouse himself enough to get up, James turned and placed his head on Cal’s shoulder.

  Damn. So much to understand, to process. So much to work out.

  He did manage to get up briefly to deal with the condom, and came back with a wet towel to clean James off.


  James looked at him with sleepy eyes, completely relaxed and mellow. So much so, in fact, that he barely resembled himself at all.

  Cal tossed the towel into the hamper. “Are you hurt?”

  James shook his head. “No. Don’t . . . care.”

  That was the problem. James didn’t care, and during or after sex he was in no position to care. Short of getting more clues from James, Cal had to move carefully. Maybe James would eventually trust him with his deepest, darkest fantasies. The things he really wanted and needed. And maybe Cal could really, actually be what the man needed. He wanted to be. It was already amazing sex; how much better would it get if he had a clue what he was doing? If James opened up completely?

  Cal stretched his arm out and James rested against him, and for a while, they dozed peacefully, Cal every now and then turning his head to brush his lips against James’s head or brow. If James would just talk, things would be so much easier.

  Resting turned into half sleep, but then James got up, muttering something about needing to deal with work emails. He left the room, and not long afterwards, Cal fell asleep for real. A faint buzz woke him a couple hours later, and he found his jeans and the phone, but then the sound stopped.

  The caller ID showed a number but no name, so he dialled back.

  “Hello?” Male voice.

  “Hi, it’s Callum Bryant. Did you . . . you just called me.”

  “Yes.” A clap like a closing door. “Nick here.”

  Ah, the very special Nick. “Hi. Uh, thanks for calling. I appreciate it.”

  “Sure. Frank said you need help?”

  Cal glanced at the bedroom door. He wasn’t entirely sure where James was, so he kept his voice low. “I don’t suppose we could talk face-to-face.”

  “It’s your call,” Nick said. “But I don’t want to waste your time or mine if I can’t help you.”

  Cal swallowed. “All right, well, maybe we can talk details in person. But what you did for your clients at Market Garden. Can you teach me?”

  “Teach you?” There was a note of amusement in Nick’s tone. Not condescending, though. “I can teach you some techniques, but you’re either a Dom or you’re not.”

  Cal grinned. “I think I’ve got that part covered.”

  “I see.” That amusement was more pronounced now. “Meet me at St Pancras. I’ll text you an address. Coffee’s on you.”

  Cal chuckled. “Absolutely. Time?”

  “Hold on.” Nick spoke again, but his voice was muffled and slightly distant. Then came a lower and quieter response. To Cal, Nick said, “Meet me there around six this evening.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  They hung up, and as promised, Nick texted him the address of a coffee shop just outside St Pancras train station. Cal glanced at the bedroom door again. He wasn’t sure about doing this without talking to James, but maybe he’d just get a feel for what Nick had done for him. See if he really was cut out for it.

  See if he had a shot at being what James needed.

  Cal had only seen him once, but he recognised Nick the second he came through the door. Though he was dressed down—low-slung jeans and a black and teal Muse T-shirt—he still carried himself like he had the night he’d come home with James. Confident shoulders, straight back, in-your-face eyes; Cal was starting to understand why Frank and Brandon had immediately thought of this guy.

  Cal flagged him down, and as soon as they made eye contact, Nick cocked his head slightly.

  “Have we met?” he asked as he took a seat across from Cal.

  Cal nodded. “You, um, my boss hired you one night.”

  “Your—” Nick paused. “Red Tie.”

  “Yeah. Him.”

  The Dom gave a slight nod. “I remember him. And you.”

  “Oh. I see.” Clearing his throat, Cal gestured towards the counter. “So, coffee’s on me. What’s your poison?”

  Nick gave the menu a glance. “Get me a latte.”

  “Got it.” Cal stood and went to the counter. He ordered their coffees, paid, and returned.

  As Nick picked up his mug, he shot Cal an odd look.

  “What?” Cal asked.

  “What exactly makes you think you’re a Dom?”

  Cal arched an eyebrow. “Do you think I’m not?”

  Nick shrugged. He sipped his coffee, then set the mug down. “Well, I’ve twice told you to do something, and you’ve done it without the slightest hesitation.”

  “Have I?”

  Nick lifted his coffee cup and gestured at it with his other hand. “This for starters. And did you notice I didn’t ask you to meet me here, or if you were even free?”

  Cal swallowed. “That doesn’t mean I’m not dominant in the bedroom.”

  “Not necessarily, no. But it’s not something you can force. And it’s definitely not something you can fake.”

  “I’m not looking to fake it.” Was he starting to feel defensive? He knew what he’d done with James, how it had made him feel. That wasn’t faked. “Maybe it’s just polite. I want something from you, so you call the shots.” He gathered up his own coffee. “Or I’ve been in the service sector for too long.”

  “Service? Ah, chauffeur. Of course.” Nick leaned forwards. “How does that make you feel? Why that job?”

  “You sound like a shrink.”

  “That’s because I’m very nearly one.” Nick flashed him a grin. “How does it make you feel?”

  “I . . . like it? It’s a decent job. Good perks.”

  “Why did you choose it?”

  “My uncle owns a business, and in this economy, doing anything else . . . ah, it fits in with my studies and leaves me time to do what I really want to do.”

  “Which is? Apart from topping bankers?”

  “I write.”

  Nick lifted an eyebrow. “Write what?”

  “Stories. I’m doing a creative fiction MA. Studying at Birkbeck, actually.”

  “Hmm.” Nick kept scrutinising him. “What is it that turns you on? Any idea why?”

  “I . . .” Knowing Nick was (very nearly) a shrink didn’t help at all. So he was being categorised, tested, and at the end of that, he’d either pass or fail. Not exactly what he’d expected when he’d come here. Maybe Frank had hooked him up with the wrong guy, but then, this was the rentboy that James had wanted. And hadn’t James been more relaxed and happy than usual the morning after Nick? So it wouldn’t be wrong to be a bit more like Nick. Or even a hell of a lot like him.

  Cal folded his hands on the table beside his coffee. “I like to top. I like to be in control. I like to blow a guy’s mind, give him . . . you know, something he won’t forget. Something he really wants. Anything I can, really. But I’m still calling the shots.”

  Nick regarded him thoughtfully. Then he nodded, and picked up his coffee. “All right. Well, I suppose the next question is how am I going to teach you?”

  “Is this another test?” Cal inclined his head. “Is deferring to you another black mark against my potential as a Dom?”

  Nick laughed and shook his head. “No. To be honest, this is a little new to me. If I recall, your, uh, employer is a bit of a handful.”

  A pang of jealousy hit Cal below the ribs, but he didn’t let it show. He casually sipped his coffee. “Is he, now?”

  “Quite.” Nick traced the curve of his mug’s handle with his thumb. “So I suppose I can teach you at the same time we’re both teaching him to—”

  “Oh, no.” Cal shook his head. “Not with him.”

  “Not with—” Nick looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Then who?”

  Cal chewed his lip. “Fuck. I hadn’t even thought about that part.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Damn it. Now I think I might have wasted your time.”

  “Why can’t we use him?” Nick asked.

  Cal blew out a breath. “Because he doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

  Nick’s eyebrows rose, alarm filling his expression.

  �
��We have a, a thing going, but we haven’t got into, um, this aspect of it.”

  “I see.” Nick straightened a bit, drew back.

  “I just want to see if I can actually do this before I broach the subject with him,” Cal said. “See if I really do have the chops for it.”

  “But you don’t want to put it on the table and potentially get his hopes up.”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  Nick nodded slowly. “All right. I can accept that.”

  “But we still have the dilemma of needing someone to, uh, work with.”

  Nick grinned. “Oh, I think I know who we can use.”

  Nick and Cal left the coffee shop and took a taxi back to Holland Park. On the way up the walk to a beautiful—and definitely not cheap—house, Cal wondered just how much Nick had made working for Market Garden. Places like this usually required a down payment of a severed limb and a firstborn.

  Before they’d reached the front door, it opened. On the other side was an absolutely gorgeous man, taller and broader than Nick with beautiful dark skin. The two of them exchanged a quick kiss in the foyer, and then Nick turned to Cal.

  “Spencer, this is my new protégé, Cal.” He grinned. “Cal, this is Spencer. My partner.”

  “Very nice to meet you.” Spencer extended his hand.

  “Likewise,” Cal said as he shook it. “And this is a beautiful place, by the way.”

  Spencer smiled warmly. “Thanks. We’re rather fond of it.”

  God, but they looked happy together. There was just something about some couples that made them glow when they were together, and as big as the contrast was between tall, dark, soft-spoken Spencer and pale, blunt Nick, they fit. They fit perfectly. Cal had never had that and didn’t know if anything similar was in store for him, but he hoped there was.

  “Care for a cuppa?” Spencer asked.

  They both nodded, and Spencer excused himself into the kitchen, which Nick led him through to a very comfortable-looking living room. Certainly nothing cheap about the house, but unlike James’s, it felt cosy. Less like a picture from a designer homes magazine and more like a place where two people actually lived.

  They sat in the living room, Cal in one of the armchairs and Nick opposite him on the couch.