Chapter Ten
What the fuck is with this guy? Tyler stared after Haris’s departing back and scowled. Every time he made a step forward, Haris pushed him back. He looked down at the come dripping from his fist and grabbed his boxers. He wiped off most of the sticky mess, gathered his clothes and headed up the stairs. Haris’s door was closed. Yeah, well I suppose I am the resident fuckbuddy. What did I expect? Haris was paying him to share his bed, not his life. Tyler had made that clear to him and now it had come back to bite him.
Once he was in his top floor bedroom, Tyler extricated his phone and let his clothes drop to the carpet. Three missed calls and a voicemail from Henry which was how he’d stored Prescott’s number. Tyler had heard a party guest call him that once. He shouldn’t have let that number transfer his new phone. He could delete the number and block his calls. He ought to, but maybe it was better to have a record just in case anything bad happened. That fucking bus. He shuddered.
“Answer your phone, you fucker,” Prescott snapped on the voicemail. “Call me now.”
No, Tyler wouldn’t be doing that.
One missed call and a text from Jeremy. Prescott cld. Tld hm u wont b there. He’s psd. He interpreted Jeremy’s shorthand as—Prescott called. Told him you won’t be there. He’s pissed. Tyler knew Prescott hadn’t believed he’d refuse to attend any more parties. When he didn’t turn up tonight, maybe he’d get it. He had a momentary surge of worry about Jeremy dealing with Gerald on his own, but if he chose not to listen to his warnings, what could he do?
When his phone rang, Tyler almost dropped it. He looked at the screen and sagged. Bloody Prescott. He touched the screen to receive the call and said, “Stop calling me. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Listen to me, you little shit. I told you I’d arranged something special with Gerald. Be here inside thirty minutes or you’ll be sorry.”
Tyler thought of a number of sarcastic responses and restricted himself to, “No.”
“Look, I know you’re upset.” Prescott modified his tone. “I’ve spoken to Lu. Made it clear what he did was unacceptable. He lost his payment for that night. I’ll give it to you instead.”
Big deal. All that meant was Lu would make Tyler pay in another way next time he had anything to do with him. Not that there would be a next time.
“I’ve had enough,” Tyler said. “It’s over.”
He didn’t hear Prescott growl, but he felt it rumbling down an invisible phone line and invading his body.
“It’s not over until I say so. If you don’t come tonight, I’ll make sure your head of music—Dr Flowers, isn’t it?—knows exactly what one of his students does in his spare time.”
“Go ahead. I don’t care.” Well, he cared but he doubted Flowers could do anything about it unless it was written in college rules—no fucking for money.
“And when you need a reference for a job, you think your employer will care?”
Fuck. That was different. He clenched his jaw. “You’re not going to control my life.”
“Oh yes I am, Tyler. I most definitely am. You walk out on me and I’ll ruin your fucking life.”
Tyler ended the call. “Too late,” he muttered.
Bastard. He tossed his phone on the bed and headed for the bathroom. He thought about going downstairs and showering with Haris, but hadn’t the guy made it clear that wasn’t what he wanted? Tyler wouldn’t gain anything by turning this into more than the business deal it was. In the future, he’d keep his mouth shut along with his wallet and just cooperate.
Oh damn it. Like that was gonna happen. Awkward was his middle name.
He didn’t know if the butterflies in his belly fluttered due to anxiety over Prescott’s call or a need for more sex, but if he didn’t make Haris want to keep him, he’d be up shit creek without a canoe, let alone a paddle. He’d had it with Prescott. The ball gag had been the last straw. Haris was supposed to be the easy option.
Tyler turned and went downstairs. He didn’t knock but walked straight into Haris’s room. No sign of the guy, but the shower was running and he entered the bathroom. Haris stood with his back toward him, washing his hair. Tyler stared through the glass, mesmerized by the thick trail of suds running down his spine and along the length of his arse crack. The image was so sexy that goose bumps erupted over his skin and his cock stirred. Christ, I only just came.
Before he could think himself out of it, he moved around the curved glass wall of the shower and stepped under the flow.
“Jesus Christ in a bloody submarine,” Tyler yelped.
As he tried to escape the freezing water, Haris grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
“Could you turn the temperature down a bit?” Tyler’s teeth chattered. “I usually like it more arctic than this.”
He hoped Haris knew he was joking. When the water warmed up, he sighed with relief.
“Trying to close your pores?” Tyler asked.
Haris scowled but Tyler smiled. Something about Haris glaring when he didn’t really mean it flipped his switches. “You’re a big guy. You’ve probably missed washing a bit. Like me to check?”
Haris pulled him into his arms, scraped his lips across Tyler’s, and Tyler melted against him. He slid his tongue over Haris’s and at once lost control of the kiss. And of the situation. Haris pinned him against the tiles with the entire length of his body and ravaged his mouth; licking, biting and plunging his tongue as deep as he could. A shiver of uncertainty snaked down his spine at Haris’s roughness, though when Tyler closed his eyes and let Haris do what he wanted, it wasn’t because Prescott was the alternative but because he liked it.
He loved the raw strength of Haris, his edge of desperation, the need he couldn’t hide. Tyler might tell himself he wasn’t a bottom, but he suspected there was a submissive inside him in constant battle with his Dom, which was why the BDSM world was not for him.
When Haris grasped his ass in both hands and lifted him off his feet, Tyler clung onto his shoulders.
“Put your legs around me,” Haris said.
Tyler slid an arm around his neck and wrapped his legs around Haris’s waist. Haris pressed his lips against Tyler’s and with their bodies and cocks flush together, he walked out of the bathroom. They fell on the bed in a writhing mix of tangled arms and legs, and as their slick, wet bodies linked and unlinked in simple puzzles, Haris didn’t stop kissing him and Tyler’s worries ebbed away.
He didn’t think he’d ever been with anyone who kissed so much or so well. He didn’t encourage kissing if he didn’t fancy the guy. Hardly taking a moral stance considering what other body parts he was prepared to introduce his tongue to, but a kiss on the lips when he felt no deeper attraction than a quick fuck seemed like a betrayal of something deep inside him. Haris kissed as though he meant it, except Tyler didn’t know what it was. Getting his money’s worth? Affection? Just the way he was?
When the guy finally moved away, Tyler shivered. His damp, cooling skin craved the warmth it had lost.
“Open your eyes,” Haris said with a croaky voice.
Tyler looked up to see him wearing the Peruvian hat and nothing else. A lump erupted in his throat.
“I believe we had a deal,” Haris said.
“So we did.” Tyler slid down the bed to the ottoman at the foot, settled on it and lifted his feet to the seat, spreading his legs. He slowly fisted his cock from bottom to top and then bent his spine and lowered his head.
Haris moved closer, his breathing ragged. Tyler curled his spine even more and rolled the flat of his tongue over the spongy head of his shaft. The catch in Haris’s breathing was audible. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his exhalations hitting Tyler’s balls. Tyler wrapped his hand tighter around his cock and brought the head back to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick up a bead of pre-come and then he opened his mouth wide, enveloped the top couple of inches of his dick and sucked.
“Oh my God,” Haris muttered, his green, almost feline eyes sparkling in the dim light.
Saliva dripped from Tyler’s mouth onto his dick as he slid his cock back and forth over his tongue. He pumped faster, sucked harder and it wasn’t long before he felt the familiar tightening sensation crawling through his balls. He unfolded himself to straighten his spine and calm his heart, and stared at Haris.
“Impressed?” Tyler asked.
“Can you lick your arse?”
Tyler laughed. “No.”
“Going to stop if I take this damn hat off?”
“No.”
The offending article flew across the room.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter in my life,” Haris said.
“Apart from molten rock.”
Haris smiled.
“And the sun,” Tyler added.
“I think you’d give the sun a run for his money.” Haris leaned forward and licked up the length of Tyler’s cock.
He shuddered with pleasure.
“Make yourself come,” Haris said and wrapped his mouth around Tyler’s balls, tugging on one and then the other.
Tyler groaned. He bent again and squeezed his dick hard at the same time as he pinched his lips around the head. Did the same thing over and over. Rhythm was most of it. Haris’s mouth and eyes were the rest. His cock swelled and jerked, and he blocked the first spurt with his tongue, allowing the come to slide out of his mouth and trail down his shaft onto his hand and Haris’s lips. Tyler swallowed the next jet, and the rest he let drip onto his cock. He uncurled and sprawled, panting, his hand lazily playing with his come-smeared, softening dick.
When Haris licked him clean, his heart beat so hard he thought it would burst.
“Get up,” Haris said.
“I’ve put my back out.”
He laughed at Haris’s stricken expression, rolled to his feet, took a few steps and stretched. “S’okay. Back in again.” He dropped to his hands and knees, and arched his spine up and down.
Haris sat on the ottoman and beckoned.
Tyler crawled over and knelt between his outstretched legs. Haris’s cock was thick and dark with blood, rising over taut stomach muscles. Tyler ran the blunt edge of his nail inside the slit at the top and Haris let out a strangled gasp. A glossy pearl formed and Tyler scooped it up with his tongue, allowing it to sit there for a while before he pulled it into his mouth.
“I want to fuck you.” Haris’s voice sounded husky.
Tyler pushed to his feet and watched as Haris sheathed himself in a condom and rubbed lube down his length before tossing the tube aside. Tyler climbed onto the ottoman, crouched over Haris’s lap and brought the sheathed dick to rest under his anus. Haris stared into his eyes, grasped Tyler’s arse with both hands and gave the cheeks a hard squeeze. The rounded head of Haris’s cock nudged at the entrance to his channel, coaxing him into opening. His muscles gave way almost instantly and Tyler impaled himself an inch at a time. His body clenched and burned around the intrusion, but it was Haris who groaned, his low rumble filtering through Tyler.
“That feels so good,” Haris whispered.
He wrapped his hand around Tyler’s neck and pulled him forward, taking his mouth in a hard kiss and at the same time bucking his hips to drive his cock the rest of the way home. Haris swallowed Tyler’s gasp and kissed away the discomfort until only pleasure remained. He clung onto Haris’s shoulders and began to move, lifting himself off the shaft buried deep inside him and moaning as his muscles fought to keep Haris just where he was. Any idea that he was in control vanished when Haris drove into him, gripping him around the waist and rocking up, sending every nerve in his body into a state of frenzy.
Impossibly, his spent cock began to thicken. Tyler raised his head and his gaze locked on Haris whose attention was so focused on him that it felt like a caress against his skin. He could hear someone whimpering, hoped it wasn’t him but had to accept it probably was. He sank down on Haris’s cock, forcing it even deeper and then tilted his hips to bring it into contact with his prostate.
Sweet Jesus. They fucked each other, each fighting for control, Tyler driving himself down onto Haris’s cock as Haris jerked his hips at a fevered pace to power into his ass.
“Fuck, fuck,” Haris gasped.
The motion of his cock caught Tyler’s prostate again and he cried out as his muscles clenched. Haris stiffened and a moment later his body spasmed. As he slumped back with a soft moan, Tyler dropped forward, pressing his face to the junction of his neck, tasting the sharp salty tang of sweat.
As their breathing returned to normal, they crawled into bed, and Haris pulled the covers over them. Tyler registered his cock was still hard but he was too shattered to do anything about it. Oblivion beckoned. They both fell into sleep.
Tyler’s breathing quickened, his pulse raced and he fought to stay calm. Even though he was dimly aware in the deep recesses of his mind that this was a dream and not reality, the power of his memory was strong enough to make him feel trapped and afraid.
There had been no sign of trouble that day. But he was only seven years old, what did he know? His dad had come home from work and taken them all out for a meal at a local pub. Tyler had sausage and chips because his mum never cooked those. They weren’t healthy. Then his dad had told them they were going on a skiing holiday in January. Tyler had been so excited, he’d spilled his lemonade. His mum had tsked when his dad let him have a sip of his beer. It tasted horrible. Though he’d lied and said he liked it. He remembered his dad laughing. My dad laughed. The memory almost choked him.
They went home and when they reached the drive, his dad got out of the car to lock the gate behind them like he always did before he drove up to the house. His sister Claire and brother Noel had gone to their rooms to watch TV. His mum told him to go straight to sleep, but later he’d heard one of the dogs make a funny noise in the yard and he’d snuck downstairs in his pyjamas to see if he was all right.
Not all right.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God. Got to do something. Got to…
“Tyler, Tyler.”
He flailed awake and gasped. A loud groan came from his left side and he swallowed to bring moisture back to his throat.
“Watch what you’re doing with your feet,” Haris said.
“What?”
“You should try out for Manchester United with a kick like that.”
Maybe the expression on his face told Haris not to joke.
“You okay? Want to talk about it?” He put his hand on his arm and Tyler flinched.
“No.” He sat up. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep. You need me again tonight?”
Haris’s jaw tightened and Tyler knew he’d upset him, but he had to get out of there before he lost it.
“No,” Haris muttered.
Tyler threw back the cover and rolled out of bed. It was all he could do to walk across the carpet without collapsing. Once he’d closed the door, he leaned against the wall and took a shaky breath. He thought he’d buried those memories deep enough but he was wrong. He made his way upstairs and collapsed on the bed.
Why the hell had he dreamed of that tonight? Had something triggered the memory?
In an attempt at distraction, he picked up his mobile, wondering if there were any more vitriolic messages from Prescott. If the prick found out about Haris and threatened to tell him about the parties, what would Haris do?
Kick me out.
But he wouldn’t go back to Prescott. He’d have to think of another way to earn money. Whoring for someone else. Tyler gave a heavy sigh.
Nothing from Prescott but five missed calls and five voicemails from Jeremy. The last only a few minutes ago. At this time of night it could only be bad news. Guilt that he’d left the guy to face Gerald guided his finger to the button.
“Tyler, please pick up. Please. I need help.”
He sat up. All the messages said virtually the same thing but Jeremy grew more and more frantic. Tyler called him.
Jeremy spoke before he could. “Thank fuck, thank fuck. Christ, where are you? You have to help me.”
“What the hell’s wrong?”
“Gerald. The guy’s fucking crazy. He followed me home.”
“Shit.”
“I’m in a mess. I managed to get out of a window at my place and clamber down the drainpipe but I don’t have anywhere to go. Can I come to you? Please. Please.”
Tyler sighed and gave him the address of his bedsit. “I’m not there, but I’ll come. Should take me about forty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
As he pulled on his clothes, it occurred to him it could be a trick. Prescott pulling Jeremy’s strings? But what if he’d threatened to do something to Jeremy if he didn’t persuade him to come? The freaked out tone of Jeremy’s voice had alarmed him. Tyler would just have to be careful in case he was wrong and Jeremy was a brilliant actor.
He called a cab company and gave them Haris’s address. He begrudged paying a taxi fare but at this hour there were only night buses running and at such a low frequency it would take a couple of hours to get back to his place. If he got there sooner than he’d said, he might be able to work out whether or not it was a trap.
Tyler hesitated on the next floor down and then crept past Haris’s bedroom. Hopefully he was asleep and wouldn’t even know he’d left. He picked up the key in the hall and quietly exited the house.
He’d intended to make the cab driver go past his place without stopping so he could see if there was anyone suspicious hanging around, but when he spotted Jeremy hunched on the step, he told the man to pull up. Tyler had to pay him with his debit card. If this was some ruse of either Prescott or Jeremy, he was going to be fucking pissed. After the taxi drove away, Tyler approached Jeremy and when he saw the state of him, his doubts evaporated.
Jeremy pushed himself to his feet and tried to smile. “You came.”
Tyler spun round when he heard a vehicle slow. A white car but it kept moving. He breathed a sigh of relief and used his key to open the door. “Second floor.”
He followed Jeremy upstairs and unlocked his flat. Once they were inside and the light was on, Tyler sucked in a breath. One of Jeremy’s eyes was almost closed it was so swollen. His mouth was bruised, his cheek grazed and blood trickled from his nose. Tyler shuddered and looked away from the blood.
“What the hell happened?” he asked.
“Gerald.”
He tugged Jeremy to the bathroom, sat him on the edge of the tub, wet a cloth and pushed it into his hand.
“You’ll have to clean yourself up. I’m not good with blood. I might pass out. And if you ever tell anyone that, I’ll kill you.”
While he waited for Jeremy, he packed up some of his things. He might as well take them back to Haris’s when he left.
Jeremy emerged not looking a whole lot better but at least the blood was gone.
“You need to go to the hospital?”
“No. I’m okay.”
“What about a drink?” Tyler asked. “Tea or coffee or something. Well, there isn’t any something, only water and there’s no milk.”
He shook his head. “You were right. I’m an idiot.” He perched gingerly on the bed, balled his hands into fists and then sagged.
Tyler sat next to him. Not my fault, not my fault. So why did he feel it was? “Prescott didn’t stop him?”
“He didn’t do this at the party, though he was pretty rough there. He and Prescott took me to a different apartment a few floors down. There were cameras and…I didn’t agree to being tied up so they…persuaded me. Gerald wanted both of us and when he found out you weren’t coming, he was really pissed off.”
More worms of guilt nibbled at Tyler’s stomach. It wasn’t going to help reminding Jeremy that he’d warned him. But I fucking did.
“I would have been okay. Prescott gave me seven hundred quid and I got another three from Gerald.” He managed a little smile but it faded fast. “Except Gerald followed me home without me realizing. Didn’t listen to no. He r…” Jeremy sucked in a noisy breath. “The bastard.”
“He raped you?” Tyler whispered.
Jeremy nodded but wouldn’t look at him. “I mean, I wasn’t going to stop him fucking me once he was there because I didn’t want to get hurt and he’d already done it earlier that evening, but he wouldn’t slow down, wouldn’t wait. Hurting me was the whole point. That’s what he wanted to do.” He groaned. “And that’s what he did. The moron tried to cuddle afterwards and I told him I needed the bathroom. I snuck my clothes in with me and climbed out of the window. Bloody hell, I hate heights. I nearly broke my neck. I didn’t know where to go. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but how could he say otherwise.
“But it’s partly your fault,” Jeremy muttered.
Tyler stiffened. It was all very well blaming himself but he didn’t need Jeremy doing it too. “I warned you what he was like, I told you not to go back.”
“Prescott told Gerald he could do what he liked in the room downstairs because you hadn’t turned up.”
The fucking bastard. “You should have walked out.”
Jeremy glared at him. “I needed the money and I didn’t know he’d follow me home and rape me.” He flinched. “Christ, my arse.” He dropped back on the bed and curled up.
“You ought to go to the police.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, like that’s going to do any good.”
Tyler suspected he was right.
“I’m so confused and I bloody hurt.” Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Tyler squeezed his hand. “Well, at least it’s over now. Forget you ever met Prescott and Gerald.”
“I can’t,” he said with a low moan. “I need the money. A thousand quid. That’s huge.”
Worth getting raped for? Tyler felt mean that he wished Jeremy had used some of it to go to a hotel.
“I don’t want anything else to do with Gerald.” He pinned Tyler with his lopsided teary gaze. “I need a rich boyfriend like yours.”
Tyler sucked in his cheeks. “Did you say anything about me to Prescott?”
“No, just that you weren’t coming. He asked if I knew where you were and I said I didn’t.”
Do I believe him? He knew better than to trust anyone, particularly someone so desperate for money. Was Prescott waiting outside? He’d been an idiot to come back here. But he looked at Jeremy’s battered face and sighed.
“Can I stay here?”
Tyler nodded.
Jeremy sat up and wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, his fingers shaking. “I can pay rent.”
Tyler winced. “I thought you meant just tonight?”
“I can’t go back. The bastard knows where I live. I…I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to remember what… I won’t be a nuisance. I can sleep on the floor. I’ll buy a blow-up mattress. You won’t know I’m here.”
Tyler smothered a groan. “There’s barely enough room for one bed, let alone two. Have mine. I might not be here much.” Unless Haris kicked him out. “I need to go.”
“Don’t leave me on my own tonight. Please.”
Jeremy sounded so desperate that Tyler sighed, toed off his shoes and lay down on the other side of the bed. “I can’t stay long.”
Jeremy took off his boots and curled up facing Tyler, quickly falling into an exhausted sleep. Tyler pulled the covers over him and left his spare set of keys on the counter. He wasn’t happy about letting Jeremy stay but what choice did he have? Tyler knew what it was like to feel lonely and afraid.
He called a cab, arranged a pick up for a street away and spent several minutes staring out of the window before he left. Not that he was paranoid—much—but it didn’t seem wise to just waltz outside without checking to see if anyone was watching. He didn’t know that Prescott knew where he lived, but he suspected he did. He hoped the guy had enough sense not to tell Gerald. Tyler exited through the back door and used the wheelie bin to climb onto the wall. He dropped his bag on the other side and then jumped, holding his acoustic guitar.
By the time he reached Holland Park, it was nearly seven. He left everything in the hall and took off his shoes and jacket before he crept up the stairs. As he tiptoed past Haris’s door, it opened. Haris stood there in a black dressing gown, fury written all over his face. Shit.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“A friend needed my help.”
“What friend? What help?”
Tyler bristled at Haris’s sharp tone. “It has nothing to do with you. You’re not buying my life. I told you that.”
“I’m buying your exclusivity which means you don’t fuck off in the middle of the night without telling me.”
Tyler stuck his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You mean you thought you’d get back without me having realized you’d gone.”
“That was the plan.”
“Then it’s not wrong to conclude I wouldn’t be happy if you’d told me what you were up to.”
No matter how Tyler played this, it wouldn’t look good. “No, but I told you a friend needed my help.”
“What friend?”
“Just a friend.”
“Did you fuck him? Did he fuck you?”
“No and no.” Tyler stared straight at him, and then started to chew his lip. He was simultaneously pissed off that Haris was jealous and also a little flattered, but he didn’t need this sort of aggravation. “I’ve told you the truth. I’ve brought my stuff with me. Want me to take it back?”
“Do what you like.” He slammed the door in Tyler’s face.