Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harmon
“I’ve never done this before,” Cassius says as he eyes the small jet.
“It’s fun. You’ll love it.”
His eyes widen as we get closer. “I don’t know. Maybe this was a bad idea.”
I stop, grabbing his arm gently to stop him and turn him to look at me.
“Don’t let your fears get in the way of this opportunity. You have the means to travel whenever you want now, but why spend your money when you can spend mine?” I step closer. “It’s going to be a fun weekend, Cassius. I promise it won’t be all work. I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
I shrug. “Consider it a bonus.”
“I thought an all expenses paid trip was the bonus.”
“Who said that?” I ask. “You’re still working for me.” I lower my voice and add, “So don’t forget that, slave.”
He sucks in a sharp breath and nods. We continue toward the jet and climb up the steps and into the cabin.
“Wow. It looks like an apartment in here.”
“I like to be comfortable when I fly.”
“This is crazy.”
I look around the space, trying to see what he sees.
I don’t. I don’t think anything about this is crazy or shocking. It’s just a plane. Just a jet. Just what I’m used to.
“Sometimes I wish I could see things through your eyes,” I say, taking a seat in my chair and patting the one beside me. I gave him the window so he can look out of it if he wants.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything is so exciting to you. I envy that.”
“Nothing excites you?”
I look him up and down. “Some things do.”
His cheeks turn pink. I smile to myself and close my eyes.
The attendant announces we can move about the cabin as we please now that we’re in the air. I take my seatbelt off and get to my feet.
“Remind me how long this flight is?” he says.
“Ninety minutes.”
He nods, tense in his seat. I glance at his hands that are holding onto the armrests, his knuckles white. I feel awful for not noticing how nervous he is until this moment.
“Hey,” I say, kneeling in front of him. “Cassius, look at me,” I say more firmly. He opens his eyes. “Breathe. Big deep breaths. Let it out slowly. You’re safe, okay? I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
“We’re really high in the sky,” he says, his words merging together.
I smile. “Yeah, we are. And honestly, it’s kind of cool.”
“Flying is meant for birds.”
“And planes.”
“Birds.”
I huff a laugh, but nothing is funny.
“What can I do to help you relax?” I ask. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes. Alcohol. Please. Lots of it. Now—all of it.”
“Okay,” I say, holding back my chuckle.
I go to the small kitchen in the back of the plane. As my fingers wrap around the refrigerator handle, I wonder why I’m doing this.
Not taking him with me but handling his anxiety. Making him feel better. Getting him a drink. I hired him to be my slave, yet… this has somehow evolved into something so much different. And it’s more than what I should typically do.
When did that happen?
How?
It wasn’t the kiss. Either of them. It started before that.
Small changes over the weeks. Small allowances that I gave him.
Allowing him to speak when he shouldn’t.
Not correcting him when he did something wrong.
At some point, I started to prefer his company over his obedience, and it’s only right now that I’m admitting it to myself—even though he is the one who brought it up the other day.
He’s noticed it… why have I ignored it? Well, not ignored it.
I’m aware, I’ve just… not thought about it much.
I tug open the fridge and grab an iced tea—the same one he thoroughly enjoyed that first day in my office— a handful of shooters.
I sit beside him, putting the iced tea in his cup holder and cracking open one of the tiny bottles.
“Here.” I hand it over. He doesn’t open his eyes while trying to grab it, so I gently take his wrist and guide it to the bottle.
He brings it to his mouth, and I watch as his beautiful lips part.
Lips that I can’t stop thinking about. Not only kissing but many other things that I shouldn’t be thinking about.
He pours all the contents into his mouth then swallows hard, hissing afterward.
“God that’s gross,” he mutters.
“Do you want another?”
“Hell yes.”
I huff a laugh and hand him another. As he drinks that one, I twist off the cap of the iced tea and give him that next. He takes a few swigs, then settles it into the cup holder.
“I should get you a snack so there is something in your stomach.”
“Nothing to soak up the alcohol,” he complains.
I look through the cabinets and choose a bag of chips and pretzels. I offer them both and he takes the chips.
“Thank you,” he says.
He devours them like he hasn’t eaten a thing in his entire life. I take one of the shooters for myself and snack on the pretzels.
“What sort of movies do you like to watch?”
“Dunno,” he says, settling his head against the rest and closing his eyes again. His grasp on the chair has lessened and his breathing is slower.
The remote is in a slot on the small console table between us. I turn the TV on. It’s mounted on the wall ahead of us.
“Do you like sports?”
“Never followed them.”
“You didn’t play?”
“No money for uniforms.”
I nod to myself, passing all the sports channels to look for something lighthearted or even funny.
“Ah, here’s a good one.” I click on The Grand Budapest Hotel. “I haven’t seen it in years.”
I chuckle quietly at the movie and eventually feel eyes on me. Cassius is watching me with a curious expression.
“What?”
“I’ve never heard you laugh before.”
“Oh, please. Don’t be absurd. We’re together all the time.”
And that we are. We’re together all the time. I spend more time with him than I do with anyone else.
“That’s exactly my point. We’re together all the time, and I’ve never heard you laugh.”
“Impossible.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not.”
I hold his gaze a second longer, then go back to the TV but I can’t focus on it now. How has he never heard me laugh? I think back to our interactions, and I can’t pinpoint any one time when laughing would be involved, but surely…
“Do you think I’m boring?” I ask.
He huffs a laugh. “No, definitely not boring.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
“I know you’re not.”
“I’m very exciting.”
“Sure you are,” he says with a smirk.
“I am,” I say firmly.
His eyes shine with humor, maybe a little glossy from the alcohol. He brings his attention back to the TV, and I do the same a moment later.
We get the announcement that we’ll be starting the descent and should put our seat belts on. Cassius’s breathing starts to quicken again, so I offer him the last shooter that isn’t quite cold anymore.
He guzzles it, like he did the others, hissing after he swallows. He chases it with the iced tea, then closes his eyes and grips the armrests.
I reach over to take his hand, linking our fingers. He squeezes it tightly, holding on for dear life. I tell myself I’m only doing it to help him stay calm, but I can’t help but notice how well our hands fit together.
“It feels good to have two feet on the ground,” Cassius says as we walk across the tarmac. “So, do you have a fancy driver waiting for you?”
“I rented. Hope you’re okay with me chauffeuring you around all weekend.”
“Oh? Do you plan on going out often?”
“I told you… I have a surprise for you.”
“Yeah, a surprise. Not multiple.”
“Harmon Stone?”
I look around at my name being called and find a well-dressed man walking my way.
“That’s me.”
“Stephen Hughes. I have the keys for your rental and your hotel.” He offers me a key fob and an envelope. “Your luggage will be brought straight to the hotel for you, sir.”
“Thank you very much,” I say as I take the things from him.
“Enjoy your stay.”
We keep walking, entering the building and then following the signs to the garage.
“I feel like I’m on an alien planet,” Cassius mutters.
“For what reason?” I ask, pushing through the doors to step into the garage. I push the button on the fob and listen for the car, then turn that way.
“It’s weird how people talk to you. Treat you. Flying on a plane. Being in an airport. A rental car? They’re bringing your luggage to the hotel for you.”
“I’m not sure what to say to that,” I admit.
We make our way to the car.
I smirk at Cassius, unlock the car, and open his door. “After you,” I say.
He gets in, and I close the door to round the sleek black Porsche 911. I get in and start her up.
“I’m surprised you don’t own ten of these,” he comments.
“Why would I do that? What would I do with them?”
“I don’t know. What do you rich people do with all those fancy cars?”
“I may be a rich person, as you love to point out, but as you can see, I do not fit in with all the others.” The words come out harsher than I mean for them too.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, then pull out of the spot and speed through the garage. “Hope you’re not afraid of driving fast.”
I speed down the highway… until we hit traffic and it’s no longer possible. That’s when I put the GPS on and navigate to the hotel. The valet takes it. I tip him nicely. We make our way to the elevator.
“So, do we have those rooms that share a door or something?” he asks.
I can’t help the smile that crosses my face.
“Your naivety is quite endearing,” I say.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re cute when you don’t know things.”
His smile is crooked. “You think I’m cute?”
“That alcohol is kicking in, isn’t it?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Don’t forget you’re still my slave. That’s why I brought you here.”
“Mm, yeah, to follow you around like a puppy out in public? I don’t think so.”
“Oh?”
“That’s not why you brought me…”
“Then why did you agree?”
He turns to face me, leaning against the wall of the elevator and smirking.
“Because I wanted to be spoiled by you for a weekend.”
Something about the line has me feral, and it takes every ounce of my control to hold back and not tackle him to the corner to kiss him. Thankfully we reach our floor, and the doors open up before I lose control.
“Come on,” I say, stepping off and into our suite.
“Holy shit… and I thought the airplane was nice.”
I pull him to me, so our bodies are flush. I brush his hair away from his forehead, looking him in the eye.
“You’re with me now. You should get used to seeing nice things. Seeing them, having them, experiencing them. I have no problem spoiling you. Had you said it sooner, I’d have done more.”
He licks his lips, his breath coming out in sharp pants.
“Tell me what you want, Cassius. I’ll give it to you.”
“Why?” he whispers.
“Because you’re mine. I’m responsible for you. If you want something, tell me. I’ll do it. No matter what.”
“No matter what?”
“Yes. All you have to do is ask.”