Chapter Twenty-four
Tyler’s body healed faster than his mind. Cuts sealed up and bruises faded but the memory of what Lu, Mex and Prescott planned to do to him had sunk deep into his soul. The police had assured him that even though the three men were out on bail, they wouldn’t dare come near him. When Haris told Tyler he’d asked Stan to keep an eye on him, he pretended to be annoyed but actually, he was grateful.
Lu had cooperated and blamed Prescott for everything. Mex said nothing. By accessing Prescott’s phone records, the police had managed to trace the others like Tyler who’d been paid to have sex and the older men who’d paid Prescott. A few had admitted it, enough that there was a case against him. Tyler was relieved he wasn’t on his own.
Haris told him he felt guilty that he’d pushed Jeremy to tell the truth about Prescott and Gerald. One call to the police and the undercover operation had unravelled. The senior policeman who was one of Prescott’s paying guests had caught wind of what another force was up to and he’d sent the warning. Tyler just wanted to forget the whole thing, forget he’d ever been to a single party.
Tyler finished his dissertation, bar the appendices and as Christmas fast approached, for the first time that he could remember, he looked forward to the holiday. While Haris was at work, he and Wilson shopped and cooked. The house came alive with lights and music and the scent of Christmas. They had a party for Haris’s friends and though he asked Tyler to invite his too, there was no one around to come. Jeremy was on holiday in Wales with his parents. The band had all left London. When he’d seen how Haris shone, how much people liked and respected him, Tyler fell in love with him even more, even though he hadn’t thought it possible. He still couldn’t believe a successful, polished guy like Haris would want him.
The words might have remained unsaid but Tyler wanted to believe they were in love. It wasn’t just fucking. They knew each other’s body better than their own. Tyler was aware of every dip and rise of his lover’s body, every muscle, every scar, every place to drive him wild.
He loved to drive him wild.
He loved to make him laugh.
He loved him.
When Christmas Day came, Tyler woke at three, woke at four, woke at five, his heart pounding.
Haris laughed as they fucked—again. “Is this the only way I can get you to go back to sleep?”
Tyler hadn’t felt this excitement since he’d had a family. He couldn’t wait to see Haris’s face when he opened his gifts. He wanted to help cook the dinner. He wanted to sit and watch the Queen’s speech. He wanted to fall asleep halfway through the feature film with his stomach stuffed and his hand buried in a tin of Quality Street. He wanted the Christmas he’d longed for with the man he loved.
He insisted that Wilson and Alcide join them when they opened presents.
“Go and call him,” Tyler said.
“He doesn’t usually—”
“We’re a family, aren’t we?”
Wilson came in wearing his old dressing gown and carrying presents he hadn’t put under the tree with theirs. He looked so overwhelmed that Tyler wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. An action that stunned the garrulous Wilson into silence.
Hard to tell who was more excited as they unwrapped the gifts. Haris’s eyes shone a brilliant green, his lovely lips curved in a continual smile. He laughed at the things Tyler had bought him. A bowtie that lit up, the game Monopoly he’d bought second-hand, a lottery ticket, an electric pencil sharpener and a five-pound voucher for a tattoo parlour. Haris didn’t laugh at the song Tyler had written especially for him, called “Our World” but a look passed between them that said everything.
“I don’t think I’d even get a single feather tattooed for a fiver,” Haris said.
“You could have my name on your arse. Well, maybe just the T.”
“Mine now,” Wilson said. “I’ve bought you identical gifts so you have to open them at the same time.”
Mugs with their names on, a blue and a grey scarf, and flashing clips to wear when they went running. Haris had persuaded him into a daily get fit routine and Tyler wouldn’t have got out of bed at that time in the morning for anyone else. Tyler was thrilled with everything.
Between them, he and Haris had bought Wilson a pedometer because he always complained how far he walked around the house, a Santa Claus apron, a set of vampire movies Tyler had found in the same charity shop as the Monopoly, a set of plastic food boxes because Wilson hated them, cherries in dark chocolate because he loved them and a book about Hawaii because he really wanted to go there.
Alcide was given a new lead, doggie chocolate, a set of soft toys to play with and a bone that he immediately took behind the couch and started to eat.
Then it was Tyler’s turn. Haris had bought him a set of pencils covered in musical notes, a box of tissues smothered in stars that lit up when you pulled a tissue out, a trivia book about New York, a packet of hand warmers which made him laugh because he was always complaining Haris’s fingers were cold, and a mysterious object in a small box that could apparently float in mid-air.
There were still a lot of presents under the tree and Tyler started to chew the inside of his cheeks. He was going to kill Haris if he’d bought proper gifts because he didn’t have anything left to give him.
Haris handed several more parcels to Wilson who sighed over a new dressing gown, a cookbook and a small television for the kitchen. The last gift was an envelope. Wilson’s fingers trembled as he took out the card.
“It’s…too much, sir.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Tyler shuffled back through the piles of wrapping paper to read what it said. A holiday in Hawaii. Wow.
“I’ll just go and prepare breakfast,” Wilson rose to his feet. “Thank you so much. Both of you. I’ll work out how to use the pedometer and I’ll be able to check how many miles I’ve walked today. I’m estimating at least thirty-three and a third. Come on, Alcide. Bacon.”
The dog dragged the bone out with him.
“That was really nice of you,” Tyler said. “What do you usually give him? Tea towels and aftershave?”
Haris laughed. “I usually pay for him to go on vacation in Europe.”
“What are all those things still under the tree?”
“They’re for you.”
Tyler sighed. “We said five pound presents. I—”
“You said that. I didn’t.” He picked out a package from under the tree and handed it to Tyler.
“I hope you’ve not bought me a laptop.”
“Shit.” Haris pulled the parcel back. Then he laughed. “No, I got the message there. No laptop.”
“Oh damn. Why do you listen to me?” Tyler opened the box to find another inside and then another until finally he gasped. “Fucking hell.”
“Do you like it?”
“How can I not like a Breitling watch?” And he did like it, but… “Thanks seems a bit weak.”
“I’ll take a blowjob later.”
Tyler laughed but his heart clenched.
“I hope these fit,” Haris said and handed over a large package.
Inside was ski gear. Expensive ski gear.
“I’ve booked us a trip to Aspen. We fly the day after tomorrow. We come back via New York. That’s why I bought the trivia book. You can memorize it and keep me entertained.”
Oh God. Tyler looked across into Haris’s face and he couldn’t be mad with him though a little bit of him was. He threw himself across the floor, knocked Haris onto his back and kissed him.
Haris kissed him back and then pulled away. “You’re pissed off with me.”
Shit. Am I that easy to read now?
“I wanted to do this.” Haris ran his finger across Tyler’s mouth. “I don’t care that you can’t do it back. When you’re a famous rock star, I’ll expect the latest Rolex and to be flown to Paris for the weekend.”
Tyler smiled.
“There’s one more present.” Haris reached behind him and pulled out a flat rectangle.
Tyler sat up and took it. It felt like a picture frame. He ripped it open, assuming it would be one of him or him and Haris, but the breath froze in his lungs as he looked at the photographs. Four in a line. His brother, his sister, his mother and then him. Tears sprang into his eyes. “How?” he choked out.
“I contacted your school to get the photos of your brother and sister and you. The one of your mother I had from the newspaper.”
“I can’t… It’s… Thank you,” Tyler whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
Tears welled as he looked at his family and he swallowed hard.
“Think we deserve some champagne?” Haris asked. “Bucks Fizz, at least.”
“Bucks Fizz sounds good. We can use that bottle of Cristal. I’ll go and open it.”
Tyler fled laughing as Haris raced after him. “Touch that bottle and I’ll shave off your eyebrows when you’re asleep.”
The day was almost perfect, Tyler thought. He wished Haris hadn’t bought the watch. How would he ever dare wear it? It had to have cost thousands. That was the problem. Plus the skiing and the trip to New York. Tyler felt as if he was being bought all over again. Haris had already bought him for four months and while Tyler wouldn’t take the money now even if had been offered, he still wanted to give back the twenty thousand Haris had paid at auction, plus the ten he’d put in his bank account. The rock star dream was exactly that, a fantasy. The reality was it would take Tyler a lifetime working some crummy job to repay the money.
What he’d secretly hoped for this Christmas was the contract ripped in half. But that hadn’t happened. He’d also hoped for the words ‘I love you’ wrapped in a parcel. But that hadn’t happened either.
He’d wait until the contract was up. But what would he do if the words never came?
Later that afternoon, Haris lay slouched on the sofa next to Tyler who was fast asleep. He suspected Wilson was asleep downstairs. He’d produced a fantastic Christmas dinner and they’d all eaten too much, including Alcide who’d been fed bits of turkey under the table by all three of them. Tyler had insisted Wilson join them for the meal, and Haris felt bad about the times he’d disappeared with his plate into the living room without even thinking what Wilson might be doing.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. When he saw who was calling, his heart dropped into his stomach. Haris extricated himself from Tyler’s legs and took the phone into his study.
“Hello,” he said. “As-salam ‘alaykum.”
“Wa’alaykum as-salam,” said his brother, Adil.
Please don’t tell me father is dead. Not today.
“Do you have Skype?” Adil asked.
“Yes. Under Haris Evans.”
“I’ll send you an invite to connect. Call me.” He cut the connection.
Haris opened his laptop and waited for it to come out of its dormant state. His call was answered almost immediately and then his father’s face filled the screen.
“Happy Christmas, Haris.”
“You don’t celebrate Christmas,” Haris blurted.
“No, but when your mother was alive we did, and I saw your tree.”
“How are you?”
“I have good days and bad days. This is a good day, especially since I’ve seen you.”
“How…” Haris’s voice trailed off.
“Your brothers are in the other room. They’ll talk to you in a moment. Tell me what you’ve done today.”
Haris saw his father’s pleasure in hearing about the silly gifts they’d bought and he found himself telling him about the watch.
“I think I made a mistake. It was too expensive.”
“But the pleasure is also in giving. I hope you made it clear you didn’t expect the gift to be reciprocated.”
“Of course.” But he hadn’t, had he? He’d made some joke about Tyler buying him a Rolex when he was a rock star.
When his father grew tired, Malik took his place.
“Can you talk freely?” Haris asked.
“They’re in the other room so you can say what you like.”
“If you’d wanted me dead, you should have done it yourself.”
Malik gave a short laugh. “You’re right, of course. You’re always right, even though you’ve not even been here for half of my life. Imagine living with ‘Your brother wouldn’t have done that. Your brother would have seen that coming.’ I thought you wouldn’t see Rashid coming. This business is mine. I built it up. I won’t—”
“Shut the fuck up, Malik. I’m a multimillionaire. I don’t need more money. I have more than I can spend. But let father have this. The belief that he passes his hard work to all his sons. Treat him with respect in his last days. Be there for him. Be there because I can’t be.”
Malik exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
“So you said. Words are cheap. I wish I could believe you, but you tried to kill me and someone dear to me, and Tyler’s friend might easily have died. The police in the UK are not looking for you. They don’t know your name, not from me, nor from Tyler. But you cost a man his life, just as I cost him his freedom. I can only imagine what it was like to spend so long in a Saudi jail. If I’d been more careful to give you the slip that day, none of this would have happened.”
“I worshipped you.”
“I know you did,” Haris said gently. “But I am what I am. Let this be over between us.”
“Adil wants to talk to you.”
Haris chewed his lip. He could never trust Malik, but then he’d thought that since the day he understood what the word trust truly meant. If his brother could betray him, he could trust no one.
“Haris?”
Haris’s eyes opened wide. It was like looking into his mother’s face—her eyes.
“You’ve grown up,” Haris said and then laughed.
“You too.” Adil smiled. “Father told me everything. He’s made Malik promise to invest in a project related to the care and reform of prisoners and commit to using them in one of our factories.”
“And after father dies?”
“I think it’s a good idea. It will continue.”
Haris sighed. “Would you like to come and stay with me in London? After…”
“I’d like that very much. Perhaps in the summer. Your winters are too cold for me.”
By the time Haris closed the laptop, he felt a deep peace in his heart. The day had been almost perfect.
Tyler appeared at the study door, scratching his chest through his shirt, his hair tousled, his trousers hanging low on his hips and he grinned. “Fancy a blowjob?”
Completely perfect.
Haris smiled and Tyler pushed the door shut with his foot.
By the time he’d reached the desk, Tyler had lost his clothes. His cock rose straight up and he’d fastened the Breitling around it. Haris broke out into fits of laughter.
Tyler carefully lifted it off. “Christ, it’s heavy.”
He put it on the desk and Haris pushed his chair back. He already had a tent in his trousers. Tyler sat astride his lap and pulled him forward, plastering his mouth to his own. Haris melted. He could taste the chocolates Tyler had kept eating, even after he’d pleaded with Haris to hide the tin, and he could taste Tyler. Nothing could mask that.
Tyler licked Haris’s mouth, sucked his upper lip, tugged his lower lip between his teeth and Haris slid his arms around him and held him close. Within moments, they were eating at each other with hard and wet open-mouthed kisses that thickened the air in the room. Tyler unfastened Haris’s trousers and pulled out his cock, rubbing it against his as he pressed his mouth against Haris’s. Tyler’s fingers threaded his hair as their kisses grew wilder and deeper.
“Oh God, oh God,” Tyler moaned as he pulled back for air. “Want…want…want.”
“Tyler,” Haris gasped his name.
“More.”
The kissing began again, noisy and rough, and continued as if it were their only means of survival. Haris slid a hand between them to squeeze Tyler’s nipple as Tyler fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Tyler arched back and sucked in air through his nose. Before Haris could tug him back, he’d slid to the floor and wrapped his lips around the head of Haris’s cock. A cry burst from Haris’s mouth and his buttocks clenched on the seat. That feels so good.
He drowned in lust, ached with it, dripped with it. And Tyler consumed him. He licked and sucked and kissed and nipped until Haris’s head swam and every cell of his body overflowed with pleasure. Haris laid his palm on Tyler’s face and felt the outline of his cock inside his cheek. His balls caught fire. His breathing faltered. But Tyler didn’t. His tongue skated over the slippery crest, swirled round and round, and then fluttered fast over the tip before he sucked hard and fast at the top couple of inches.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.
Tyler swallowed him. How the hell could he get so much in his mouth? He flinched as Tyler’s chin hit his balls and Haris jerked, pushing the last inch between his lips. When the muscles of Tyler’s throat contracted, Haris cried out. It was as if he was giving him the blowjobs of blowjobs. But then didn’t he think that every time? Haris looked down at Tyler who must have sensed his attention because he glanced up, his eyes bright and clear and full of—oh shit.
Haris’s cock jolted once, his balls drew up tight and Tyler dropped his mouth to cover them, gently teasing with his tongue and Haris came, his fingers digging in Tyler’s shoulders, as he spurted thick jets of come over his chest. Every spasm made him feel as though his whole body had powered each ejection.
Tyler let his nuts out of his mouth with a soft plop and reared up to lick him clean.
“I’m in awe,” Haris whispered. “How come I’m so lucky?”
“You think you’re the one who’s lucky? You taste so good,” Tyler said with a moan.
“Better than the purple sweet in the Quality Street?”
He sat back on his heels and pouted. “Not fair. Don’t make me choose.”
Days passed, the fantastic holiday in Aspen and New York came and went, and they settled deeper into life together. Haris was still thinking about getting his back tattooed. Tyler was still dreaming of being signed to a record company. The band had a couple of agents interested in them.
Tyler’s acceptance of the way things were between them grew easier. Haris couldn’t help being rich. Tyler couldn’t help worrying this was all going to end. Haris had never said the words he seemed to demonstrate in his actions but then neither had Tyler. Tyler loved him but he still didn’t know if Haris loved him back.