Page 107 of Forgotten Promise

Instead, John dropped both towels.

Benjamin’s stomach muscles tightened at the sight of all that pretty flesh.

John’s face was unreadable as he picked up the pair of black socks and black silk briefs, sliding the latter on.

Benjamin said nothing, watching the way the silky fabric hugged the curves of John’s ass.

He’d been right about the suit and shoe size, and while the break of the pants wasn’t perfect, John looked delicious in his simple tux. Benjamin finally pushed away from the doorway when it was time for the bow tie.

He took it from John’s hand. “May I?”

John hesitated, then nodded.

Benjamin slid it under John’s collar, brushing the corner of his jaw and neck as he did. “I would offer to teach you to tie a bow tie,” Benjamin said softly.

“Except…you know I don’t need to know? Since I’m not exactly a tuxedo person.”

“Except, if you knew how to do it, you wouldn’t need me to do it for you.”

John closed his eyes, his jaw muscle working. “Benjamin,” he warned.

The fact that John seemed affected by his presence, his touch, was hopefully a good sign.

“Come on.” They were in dangerous territory and the faster they got out of this hotel room, the better.

In a matter of minutes, they were downstairs, and as Benjamin walked out the front doors, the valet hopped out of the silver Aston Martin, passing Benjamin the fob.

John’s expression made it all worth it as he slid into the passenger seat.

“Want to drive around the block first?” Benjamin asked.

“How far are we going?”

Benjamin pointed across the square. “There.”

“First, is that a castle? And second, it’s literally next door. Why are we driving?”

“That’s the Monte Carlo Casino. And we’re driving because the car makes this fun noise.” Benjamin revved the engine.

“Around the block,” John breathed, the stiffness in his shoulders relaxing. Benjamin hoped that was an indication that his anger was fading.

Traffic prevented them from doing anything to really appreciate the speed the car was capable of, and after ten minutes, they pulled up in front of the casino, joining the line of high-performance luxury vehicles waiting for the casino valet.

“Did you rent an Aston Martin just so we could drive it for ten minutes?” John asked as they pulled up to the doors.

“Of course not.” Benjamin put the car in park. “I bought it.”

“You mean you already owned it.”

“Nope.” They climbed out of the car, Benjamin tipping the valet quietly and handsomely. “I bought it.” Benjamin didn’t think right now was a good time to say that he’d bought the car for John.

“When?”

“This morning.”

They mounted the steps into the casino, passing through the atrium, which was filled with elegant and rich people, though often they were one or the other, not both. At the doorway of the Salle Europe room, a porter approached Benjamin.

“Monsieur Dara, your plaques.”

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