Save Me (Savior Series): Contemporary Gay Romance

by Kensie King

  Fuck! I knew something was wrong. They’d found someone so quickly because I was out. I didn’t have a job anymore.

  I squeezed the strap of my satchel. “I know I was late, but it wasn’t my fault. There was this lady and—”

  “Mr. Crane’s expecting us,” the security guard said, reaching out for me. “We don’t want to be late.”

  I glanced at Ryan, my eyes wide. I probably looked like an animal caught in the headlights. He only gave me a gentle smile and turned to the counter.

  No, no, no…I know I’d said I’d quit work yesterday, but it had been a whim. A stupid whim at that. I needed this job.

  “This way,” the guard said.

  Heart racing, I followed him out of the gallery and across the wide lobby, my shoes squeaking on the tiled floor again. One mistake—one, and I was out. Then it occurred to me I hadn’t just made one mistake.

  “Did you give Mr. Crane my message yesterday?” I asked.

  He nodded as we reached the elevators. “I did.”

  “Shit,” I said under my breath.

  The guard’s lips quirked, but I didn’t find it funny. I’d insulted Mr. Crane and I was late. Insubordination and tardiness. So maybe I did have a reason to be fired. But just a small one. And today wasn’t my fault.

  We stepped inside, and the guard slid a card into the panel before pressing the button on top. The penthouse suite.

  My mouth dropped open. What the hell was this? Why were we meeting him up there? As far as I knew it was just one large suite. Maybe there was a meeting room instead. Maybe—

  I stopped my train of thought. Who cared? After this, I’d probably never be in this hotel again. Mr. Crane might have a reputation for being the surliest, most egotistical businessman in the whole city, but his hotels were divine.

  So divine, that was part of their slogan. You’ll never want to leave…

  It sounded just like Mr. Crane. Supposedly he’d gone through some major tragedy and hadn’t left his home in years. But rumors were a dime a dozen, and I’d heard most of them from Monica when she’d been drunk.

  The elevator dinged softly, and my stomach jumped. When the doors opened and revealed a large foyer, white tiles that surrounded a dominating table topped with a gigantic vase of lilies under a crystal chandelier, I blinked. It still looked like a suite, not a meeting room.

  The guard gestured. “This way.”

  I followed him inside, feeling like I was intruding on someone’s home, until we reached the living room. I scanned the entire area, awe overcoming me. So, this was how the other half lived.

  The other half meaning Mr. Crane.

  I turned to ask the guard if Mr. Crane was staying here, but he was gone. He’d vanished swiftly and silently.

  Damn. Now what?

  I ventured further into the room, drawn by the view. The glass was clear and showed me the entire city of Seattle. Damn. I needed my camera. I needed—

  “Like the view?”

  I whipped around, nearly slipping on the tiles, trying to find the source of the voice.

  He stood halfway across the living room, arms folded over a charcoal suit that fit his body like a second skin.

  Preston Crane.

  #

  I had to remind myself to breathe. To remember that I’d invited Eric up here, and I certainly had nothing to fear from him. I’d seen him day in and day out for months on those cameras set up all over the hotel. If there was anyone less harmless in this world, I’d have to search far and wide to find him.

  But the cameras didn’t do him justice. In person, he was lean, nearly as tall as me and lightly muscular. His simple suit was not doing him any favors, but even so, I could still see the strength in his thighs. Across his chest. My short-circuited with the thought of him naked. Of his body stretched across my sheets, legs opening for me…

  All the blood in my body traveled to my dick, making it throb.

  “Mr. Crane,” Eric said.

  I gritted my teeth. “I expected you fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I—it’s—” His cheeks flushed. I couldn’t tell whether he was embarrassed or just trying to hold back from calling me an asshole. “I know I was late, but my alarm clock broke and then—”

  “That’s not why you’re here.”

  “Wait, what? I thought…”

  I gestured to one of the white leather couches. “Have a seat.” I spoke while he moved, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time. “I’m aware of the incident in the lobby. Helping an old lady isn’t grounds for being fired—even if you should pencil more time into your morning to account for instances that might arise—including the alarm clock.”

  His eyes flashed first with shock, then anger. He stopped next to the couch. “How do you know I was helping an old lady?”

  “Have a seat,” I insisted.

  It wasn’t for him. It was for me. I felt more in control when he was seated and not wandering around my home. That was one thing I desperately needed in my home. Control.

  He sank to the cushions, eyes locked on mine. Waiting.

  “There are cameras all over the hotel, which I’m sure you’re aware. I saw you helping that old lady.”

  He licked his lips, preparing to say something else. My gaze dropped, and for a moment, all I could think of was how badly I wanted that tongue on me. Those lips against mine before they wrapped around my dick…

  Focus. “It also captured your old boss in a compromising position.”

  Eric’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “I got your message yesterday, and it seemed you needed an explanation.”

  Of course, that wasn’t the only reason why I’d wanted him up here. I needed to see him up close. I’d forced myself to grasp at that one last hope that humanity wasn’t completely worthless.

  And now he was sitting here looking completely lost and completely vulnerable. And a little pissed off, too.

  I walked to the coffee table and picked up the laptop I’d set there earlier. I gestured to the space on the couch next to Eric. “May I?”

  I swore his gaze dropped to my mouth this time. Maybe lower. “Of course.”

  His scent hit me hard. Something subtle, something soft and earthly. Like he’d just strolled through the woods. My gut clenched, my dick going hard before I could help it. I opened the laptop, pulled up the video, and turned the screen to face him.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Just watch.”

  Eric was on the screen first, walking a guest through the store. Then Monica appeared. She glanced around, turned her back to the camera—at least, one of the cameras, and the only visible one from inside the store—and reached into the cash register.

  Truly, she wasn’t even being that discreet when she pulled out the cash and folded several bills before placing them in her purse.

  Eric’s mouth dropped open, a sound of surprise escaping.

  I snapped the laptop shut and returned it to the table. “I hope this explains yesterday’s situation.”

  “Oh my God…” His eyes flashed to mine. “I didn’t know. I—”

  “I trust you don’t have any more messages for me regarding this matter.”

  His cheeks flushed, and he shook his head. “No.”

  “Good.”

  I stood because I couldn’t take it anymore. It was hard being so close to him, being this far out of my comfort zone. My heart started beating faster. Anxiety maybe?

  When he stood as well, I walked him to the elevator and pushed the button. “I handpicked your new boss myself. There shouldn’t be any more problems.”

  His wide doe eyes locked on mine, nearly bringing me to my knees. He was so innocent. Too innocent. The world would chew him up and spit him out before he even had a chance to live. Part of me said that wasn’t my problem, but the other part—the part that remembered what it was like to be young, naïve, and full of hope—wanted to shelter him from all of it.

  The door opened, and he stepped in
side. Stone appeared out of nowhere to join him.

  “Mr. Tanner.” I set my hand on the door, stopping it from closing. He met my eyes again, pools of confusion. “This is the real world,” I told him. “People lie, people cheat. They steal from each other and murder each other. You’d do well to remember that.”

  He didn’t answer, only kept his eyes trained on mine until the doors shut.

  Once he was gone, I released a tense breath and then yanked off my jacket because I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  I’d done it. I’d put my toe in the real world, the one I’d just warned Eric against. That still didn’t mean I wanted anything to do with the rest of those fuckers out there. The ones who walked the streets. Cocky, abusive, vile people. That’s all most of them were.

  I ran a hand through my hair and realized it was shaking. “Fuck.”

  Tossing my jacket aside, I walked to the kitchen, yanked out a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and downed the entire thing. Once my hand stopped shaking, I stared at the elevator.

  I’d faced part of the real world and I had no doubt it’d stick with me. Forever.

  I’d seen Eric up close and that wasn’t enough.

  Somehow, I had to figure out how to get him into my life. Permanently.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Asshole! I rode down the elevator with my arms crossed and mind whirling. What had just happened? Mr. Crane had invited me up to his penthouse to—what? To rub it in my face that he had a reason to fire Monica?

  And what was that warning about there at the end? He wasn’t threatening me, was he? Because, damn, he wasn’t doing himself any favors. Preston Crane already looked dangerous enough without that. Dark hair, a chiseled jaw, strong nose. Lips that were firm, most of the time stretched into a line that said he didn’t take shit from anyone.

  But even with that, I’d barely been able to stay still when he’d sat next to me. He’d smelled like the ocean and every part of him radiated sex. But he also looked just like the rumors said. Like he didn’t leave the hotel. Like he only cared about himself. But, God, it turned me on. In that small corner, way back in my mind, I found him sexy enough to dream about. To get myself off to the memory of his strong hands, the cocky arch of his brow...

  Those penetrating eyes. His lips forming two words in the darkness. Mr. Tanner…

  I swallowed back a moan and looked over at the security guard. “I didn’t know Monica was stealing.”

  “It happens.”

  I tried again. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have made you take that message to Mr. Crane.”

  He glanced over. “It all worked out in the end, right?”

  “Yes. I—it did. Thanks, Mr.—”

  “Stone.” He stood to the side to let me out when the elevator dinged. “You can call me Stone.”

  “Right. Thank you.”

  “I’ll make sure you get back to the store.”

  I shook my head and started walking. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Mr. Crane would insist.”

  I shut my mouth and let him walk me back to the store. Mr. Crane would insist? What did he think? I was going to get mugged on the way? Maybe get hurt rescuing more old ladies from the perils of purse dropping?

  Once I was in the store and Stone had vanished, I leaned against the wall and blew out a breath. Work. That was what I needed to focus on. I hadn’t lost my job, which meant I needed to do what I could to keep my job. I’d already stuck my foot in my mouth. It didn’t need to happen again.

  When I got home from work that night, it felt like I’d been gone for days instead of hours. I dropped my purse on the kitchen table and swiveled to the refrigerator. Yeah, my place wasn’t much. Literally. The entire thing could probably fit into Mr. Crane’s foyer. But it was enough for me. For now.

  And ugh…why was I thinking about Mr. Crane? Preston?

  Because of those tortured eyes. Because his hands and arms looked strong enough to lift me without any effort.

  “Wine,” I murmured, pouring myself a glass instead of the water I planned on having.

  I took it to my bedroom, my dick aching. Hell, who was I kidding? Preston Crane was hot. So damned sexy if I didn’t have dreams about him for the rest of the week, I’d wonder if I was even alive.

  I shimmied out of my slacks and lay back on the bed to rest my feet. I couldn’t help myself. I’d been thinking about the man all day, my cock tenting my slacks more than once and leaving me full of need.

  After another sip of wine, I tugged down my boxers and gripped myself in one hand. Damn Preston Crane. He’d managed to shock me and get me all worked up in a matter of minutes.

  A drop of pre-cum leaked from the head of my cock, dripping down the side of my shaft. I gave a low moan and pictured the man, sans suit and dress shirt, crawling his way up the bed. Lowering his head to my dick and—

  The sound of a knock at the door made me gasp. I jerked to an upright position.

  “Shit.” With another grumble, I yanked on my pants and stumbled to the front door.

  I yanked it open and angled my head when I saw a delivery man with a box. Not just a box, a present? It was black, tied with a red bow. Simple. Mysterious.

  “Mr. Tanner?” the man asked.

  I nodded and accepted the package. “Thanks.”

  There wasn’t a card, so I undid the bow and took off the top of the box. Inside, amidst a pile of tissue paper, was another box. An alarm clock.

  It was top of the line, one that probably cost more than my cab fare for the entire week.

  My lips parted. “What the…?”

  And if I had any doubt who it was from, there was a short card with his slanted handwriting.

  Set this before you go to bed. It should work. –Preston Crane

  I choked on a laugh. Seriously? If I wasn’t so confused by his behavior this morning, I would have found it funny. I pulled the alarm clock out and brought it to my room.

  Damn it. Was the man trying to flirt with me or just making sure his employees were happy? He sure as hell wasn’t making any sense to me.

  I got the alarm clock set up and sipped my wine again. Fine. He’d made his point. Be on time. People are all bad. Blah, blah, blah…

  But it did make me curious. What made Preston Crane the way he was? Why did we have to meet in his suite instead of down in the store where it made sense? Or at the very least in a neutral spot?

  And why, when I felt like screaming at him, did I also want him to fuck me until I couldn’t stand anymore?

  #

  It still happened once in a while. I’d wake up with my hands shaking, sweat on my brow, heart racing so fast I thought I might pass out.

  I’d see their eyes in the darkness, hear the horrible laughter. But this morning, when I shot out of bed at the crack of dawn, I said the wrong name when I shouted out.

  It wasn’t my dead fiancé’s name that slipped from my lips. It was Eric’s.

  I nearly summoned Stone up here to tell him to head straight to Eric’s apartment to make sure he was okay.

  But then my heart rate slowed and a hint of rationality showed up, and I was able to calm down.

  Then I worked out. Hard. Enough to have my heart racing again. Enough to chase away the lingering fear.

  After a shower and an omelet, Stone appeared in the foyer. By then, I already had a plan.

  “Did you get the information?” I asked.

  He passed over a folder, and I sat at the island in the kitchen and shuffled through it. There were pictures of Eric, documents, social media links, and so on. I picked up a printed page of photographs.

  “What’s this?”

  “He posts these on social media, sir. He’s a photographer—or aspiring to be one.”

  They were good. Better than good. Art. And they gave me another idea. Another excuse to see him again.

  Probably the better excuse. After all, admitting to Eric I needed him to model for a painting wasn’t going to make the best first—or second�
��impression. I’d need to build up to it.

  “Please escort Mr. Tanner up here once he arrives at work.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I glanced up before he could leave. “How’s Ryan doing?”

  “Not bad. He says you owe him, though.”

  “Mmm hmm. That’s all Stone.”

  Stone entered the elevator, then vanished. Ryan was right. I did owe him. Bringing him in to man the store at the last minute had meant he had to take a break from his own job. And, unfortunately, he was going to have to be doing it a bit longer because I needed Eric up here with me.

  I’d call him later. Or send him a basket filled with his favorite wine and cheese.

  I walked to the bedroom to search for clothes. I dressed in slacks and a cashmere sweater, choosing comfort and style over something more professional.

  On the counter in the bathroom were the anxiety meds the psychiatrist had prescribed me. I’d almost taken one this morning. Or two. Damn, the nightmares were the worst part. I could function throughout the day, but when the night came…

  I heard the ding of the elevator and shoved the meds in the cabinet before walking from the room.

  The sight of Eric, looking as confused as ever, actually calmed me. How did he do that? Maybe because he was so nervous, and I was in control. It helped me focus on making the situation better for him instead of thinking about how fucked up I was.

  “Thank you, Stone,” I said. “This might take a while.”

  Eric’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything as Stone stepped into the elevator again.

  “Mr. Tanner,” I said.

  “I wasn’t late.” He gave me a pointed look. “New alarm clock and all.”

  I almost smirked, but instead only nodded. So, he’d gotten it. It wasn’t exactly a gift, more a way to ensure he made it to work on time. But it was the first thing I’d given any man—besides Ryan—in the last three years.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It works really well.”

  “Glad to hear it. Would you like something to drink?”

  He blinked, glancing to the kitchen, looking like he’d expected something else. “I…orange juice?”

  This time, I couldn’t help the smile. “Strange request, but I can handle that.”