Triumph and adrenaline spiked through James’s body. Blood heating, he holstered his gun and headed for the stairs.
His date was waiting for him, and it was time to celebrate.
8
Every bad idea only excited him more.
Kit splashed water in his face. Rubbed his cheeks dry with his sleeves, avoiding his own red gaze in the mirror—until he heard women’s voices down the hall.
Heart in his throat, Kit pressed against the door. He recognized Holly the hostess saying, “There’s a spare in the downstairs garage. I’ll be right back up.”
Kit froze. The garage was where James was. James said he would be back in fifteen minutes, but it had only been ten. If Holly went down there now, what would she run across?
What would show in the hallway security footage?
Would James hurt her?
Would she turn James in?
Kit didn’t stop to think about either option. Between James’s heated touch and the cold pain in his eyes, Kit had already decided he wasn’t turning James in. He was already complicit, and this next step was far easier than Kit would ever have thought.
He couldn’t allow Holly to get to the garage.
Kit paused just long enough to ruffle his hair, until he looked even more disheveled. Leaving the bathroom, he didn’t have to fake his breathless, uncomfortable nerves.
Sure enough, Holly was rounding the corner, almost in range of the cameras James had looped. She seemed surprised to see Kit.
“Excuse me, this is a staff only area,” Holly said with a frown.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Kit twisted his hands together. He looked around and saw nobody else. “I’ll tell Mr. Zhou that immediately.”
She straightened up. “Is Mr. Zhou with you?”
“He’s, um. In the bathroom. Listen, could you do me a huge favor?” This was a stupid plan. A phenomenally stupid plan. But at least Kit didn’t have to fake his utter humiliation. Kit pushed his hair back from his forehead, feeling her note his messy hair, his damp face, his rumpled clothes. “Mr. Zhou asked me to see if there was any, um. Vaseline, or like, olive oil or something I could borrow from the kitchen?”
“What? Why would you—” Holly’s eyes widened.
Kit ducked his head, face heating. “Please, this is so embarrassing.”
“Right, um. Well, this is very, um. But it’s for Mr. Zhou, so. Wait here, and I’ll be back in a minute.” Her heels clicked away on the tile floor
Kit slumped against the wall in relief. Face still burning, he sent James a rapid-fire text message.
Kit:wait until i tell you to come back up. also YOU OWE ME
James immediately replied with a kiss emoji.
Somehow, that settled Kit’s nerves. All the pain and panic and embarrassment coalesced into something warmer. Kit was the only one in this empty, echoing hall, but he wasn’t alone.
Thankfully, Holly didn’t say anything when she returned with a bottle of olive oil. She didn’t even make eye contact, just handed Kit the bottle and retreated towards the kitchen. Kit made his own retreat to the bathroom, set the bottle on the counter, and texted James the all-clear.
Moments later, the door swung open. James looked the same as when he left—his clothes perfectly neat, his hair perfectly tousled—except for the hunger in his eyes, their dark flame stoked to ravenous heat. His presence filled the room, and suddenly there was no space between them at all.
James’s hand slid behind Kit’s neck, pulling him in. The full strength of James’s body pressed against Kit. James’s cock was hard against Kit’s stomach, as clear as if there weren’t layers of clothing between them. Warm breath stirred through Kit’s hair. Ghosted past his lips.
But it was Kit who buried his hands in James’s hair and dragged him into a kiss.
James took his offering and ignited the embers into an inferno. He was everywhere, awakening Kit’s every nerve. His touch claimed Kit’s neck, his hips, sliding up and down Kit’s arms. Heartbeat accelerating, it was all Kit could do to hold on through the flames.
