Page 6 of Aaron's Patience


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I cleared my throat.

“When will you be home?”

“My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. I should be home in time to make Mother’s family dinner.”

“Good. You know your mother lives for these dinners.”

I grunted.

“As do I. All my boys under one roof. Makes a man proud. You bringing anyone?”

I frowned. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Just asking. Your mother thought it might be time. Since Carter married, she thinks you’re next.”

I let out a sigh. “And you didn’t do anything to thwart her nonsense notions, did you?”

“Why would I do that?”

I laid my head back against the seat.

“I want to see all of my sons happy.”

Here it came. Yet another speech by my father on the importance of family.

“A man can’t survive this world alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

It was my father’s turn to grunt. “You’ve got us, but you deserve more. And those one-night stands or dates you keep on standby for work events aren’t cutting it.”

Rolling my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose again. Ever since my older brother, Carter, got married, both of my parents have been talking about relationships more frequently. It was getting redundant but I didn’t dare interrupt my father. I just zoned out, making a mental list of everything I needed to do for business that evening.

As I hung up the phone with my father and readied myself to exit the vehicle in front of my hotel, a thought came to mind. My father’s talk of relationships had stressed me out more than the day-long negotiations.

“I’ll need you back here at seven to pick me up,” I informed the driver as I exited the car door he held open.

“Seven this evening?”

I blinked. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, sir. Just checking to make sure I heard correctly.”

I nodded and then sauntered off, breezing through the door held open by the concierge. I deserved a night out and Chicago had just the right spot for such an occasion.

****

What the fuck am I doing here?That was probably the first common sense thing I’d asked myself since stepping out of the back of my town car. I glanced around the underground garage, and undid the button of my Tom Ford suit jacket.

“Would you like me to escort–” The chauffeur's question was cut off by the sharp slicing of my hand through the air.

“I got it from here.” I turned toward the metal doors of the elevator. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I told him, not even looking over my shoulder.

“I’ll be right here, Mr. Townsend.”

I didn’t waste time acknowledging his statement. Of course he’d be there waiting on me. That’s what he was paid for while I was in Chicago on business. But as I slid the shiny black keycard into the slot next to the elevator, it was obvious that this little venture was anything but business. I’d spent the entire past seventy-two hours in business meetings and beating any adversary over the head with my strategy. I needed this outlet like I needed my next breath. Not that a quick blow job or a frenzied fuck would ever be enough to ease all of the tension rolling through my body, but it would offer a short respite.

I turned to the opposite side of the elevators upon hearing the dinging of the bell, and the doors spread open, revealing the comforts of The Cage’s fourth floor. Just as I stepped off, a long-legged blonde dressed in only a pair of leather shorts and matching pasties, with a leash around her neck, passed. Holding onto the opposite end of the chain, leading her, was another woman, this one with dark chocolate skin, shaved head, and dressed head to toe in a pinstripe black suit. I watched the pair strut down the hall.The bondage room.That’s where they were headed.