Chapter Five
Tyler held it together until he was safe in his room with the door locked. The adrenaline burst that had empowered him to go back into the gallery and demand money from Prescott had been sucked to oblivion as he’d rerun the evening on his way home. He could still taste the ball gag, still remember the moment he thought he might die.
OhGodohGodohGodohGod. Tyler staggered to his bed and flung himself face down. He shook so violently he accidentally bit his tongue and his mouth filled with the coppery tang of blood.
“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” he whispered.
A full blown panic attack fought for control of his brain. If he gave in and allowed the scream out he might not be able to stop. He shifted only enough to yank off his boots and jacket, and then curled up with his face buried in his hands. His world was falling apart. His already rapid breathing turned noisy and erratic as though his lungs had forgotten how to work. Like a detonated building crumbling floor by floor, he folded in on himself.
When the lights had gone out in the gallery he’d been scared, but not as terrified as when he heard the fire alarm. Lu hadn’t released him and he’d thought his heart would burst. If Haris hadn’t… Tyler screwed the bedcover in his fists. The danger had gone but his heart kept skipping, the sound echoing louder and faster in his head, pounding the back of his skull.
Fucking breathe slowly.
He tugged the quilt over his head and lay wrapped in his arms, hiding as he’d done when he was a child. His mum had told him if he kept still and silent then nothing would harm him. But she didn’t trust him. She knew he couldn’t keep quiet so she’d gagged him and told him everything would be all right. No one would hurt him. Well, she’d been right and wrong. He’d been hurt, though not in the way she feared. Sometimes he’d wished he’d moved that night, pulled off the gag and spoken out when he heard his name called. But he hadn’t. He’d wanted to show her she could trust him to keep quiet.
Breathe. Slowly.
Oh Christ. Oh fuck. This was why he’d never gotten into BDSM. He might have liked the idea of being looked after, but he didn’t like being tied, helpless, not able to do anything. He didn’t want to put someone else in that position either.
That terrible morning, when the gag had been taken from the mouth of a seven year old, it had been too late. Everything dear to him had gone. No more gentle arms to cradle him when he was hurt. No more stories snuggled next to his mum in bed. No scent of her. No making her laugh so hard she cried. No photo. Nothing. It was as though she’d never existed, as though he’d never been part of a family. He’d lost everything that night, including himself. He’d have done anything it took to make things right, but there was no way back.
Tyler’s head swam. He made himself inhale and exhale against his arm until his breathing slowed and gradually he pushed his fear back into its cage. Then he curled up even tighter.
He’d told himself he wouldn’t go back to Prescott, the ball gag was the last straw, but he was already rethinking that. Though there’d be conditions. No more bondage of any sort. Just sex. The money currently sitting in his pocket made turning away very difficult because whatever else happened in his life, one aim shone like a beacon. Tyler was determined he would not be like his father. No family should ever have to go through that.
He thought again about Haris, how he’d looked into his eyes and understood. No one else had seen his distress. Even if they had, they hadn’t been prepared to help. Not even Jeremy. Haris had saved him and he didn’t even know him. Christ. I wanted to fuck him in his car, or him to fuck me, I didn’t care.
Then again, was he even thinking straight? Maybe he didn’t want Haris at all and it was simply gratitude that fired up his libido. Didn’t matter. The moment was gone, finished, over. He’d screwed up by being impulsive and scared the guy off. He felt embarrassed thinking about it. At least he’d never have to see him again.
So why did that leave him with an empty feeling in his gut?
Haris lay in bed rethinking Wilson’s description of what he’d seen and heard in the warehouse and told himself to let this go. Tyler was a mess and Haris didn’t need that sort of complication in his life. Not again.
But I want him.
He rolled over and scrunched up the pillow under his head. He needed to stick to the plan he’d settled on after Karl; when the need for sex grew too much—find a guy, rent a hotel room and fuck the malaise out of his system.
Except he hadn’t. Not for four months because his so-called plan hadn’t cured the depression in his soul.
Haris shook when he thought of Karl, the last man he’d been involved with, and how it had been so right and then so wrong. He’d promised himself then, he’d never let anyone get that close again, never fall in love.
He rolled the other way and watched the digital display of his alarm ticking seconds off he’d never get back. This is the life we’re given. One life. One opportunity to be happy, to make others happy, and I’m letting it slip through my fingers because I’m afraid. He released a strangled laugh. He was successful in a business where risk was everything and yet he couldn’t extend that to his private life?
Forget Tyler.
Not a good idea to be with someone who took such chances with his life, no matter what the reward. A thousand pounds to be tied up and gagged? The ticket price suggested more had been required of Tyler than that. The guy had been willing to have the ball gag strapped to his mouth even though it freaked him out. Yet Haris understood the taste of desperation. Who was he to criticize Tyler for taking that risk?
Forget him.
It wasn’t that easy. His cock tented his shorts and the ache in his balls had reached painful proportions. Haris slid his hand down and freed his erection, taking it firmly in his grasp. Not difficult to imagine Tyler’s long fingers wrapped around him, pumping his cock. A rush of pleasure slid along his veins as he began to stroke himself.
A single thought about the beauty of Tyler’s dick, and pre-come soaked his fingers. Haris kicked off the bed cover and worked his cock with both hands. He bit his lip as his breathing hitched. In his mind, he had Tyler’s mouth around him, Tyler’s arse to bury himself in, Tyler’s moans filling his ears. Haris bent his knees, spread his legs and pressed his heels into the bed as he jerked himself off, lifting his hips in the same rhythm as if he were thrusting into Tyler.
Tell-tale tingles pricked the back of his skull, his balls drew up tight to his body and launched him straight into meltdown. Haris gasped as he came, his cock spurting warm silky jets over his belly.
As his heart rate calmed and his breathing eased, he knew that hadn’t helped at all.
Haris woke in the morning thinking about Tyler, jacked off in the shower thinking about him, and instead of a morning wank putting him in a good mood, it set him on edge. He brushed his teeth so hard he made his gums bleed and he nicked his cheek twice with his razor. When he walked into the kitchen, Wilson gave him a long look. For once, a single glare was enough to silence his garrulous valet.
Wilson put a large mug of coffee with hot milk in front of him, poured him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and handed over the paper. Haris read it without taking in a word and ate two slices of toast and marmalade without tasting a mouthful.
“Could we fit a grand piano in the library?” he asked.
Wilson showed no surprise at the sudden question. “Yes, if I could find a home for everything else you have in there. But if I might be so bold as to suggest you start with something a little smaller. Perhaps the triangle. Not that I have any doubt that as soon as you begin piano lessons, your natural talent will ensure you’ll make astounding progress. I’ve been privileged to occasionally hear you sing in the shower and thought—what a voice. With a reasonable amount of training, it might actually be a voice I could listen to for more than a few minutes without getting a migraine. And now an instrument. It will be a delight to listen to you practice as I lie in bed directly underneath that room. Oh the joy.”
Haris smothered his smile. “Would a grand fit through the door?”
Wilson didn’t bother hiding his. “Probably not, sir. What a shame.”
“Find one that will and get it delivered today. Budget of five thousand.”
“Yes, sir.” Then came the long suffering sigh that Haris knew so well.
As Haris had anticipated, Kevin Flowers’s hopes for a big cheque for the music college ensured whatever else he’d been doing that morning could wait.
“I very much enjoyed the concert last night,” Haris said, hoping he wasn’t quizzed on who’d played after Tyler.
Flowers beamed. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk after at the reception.”
“I had another engagement.” Haris put the cheque on the desk. “I don’t wish my name to be linked to the donation. Anon is fine.”
Flowers’s jaw dropped when he looked at the amount. “Most generous.”
“I like the sound of your plans to involve the community with the college and the way you encourage your students to go into local schools. You should be able to buy a few instruments with that.”
“Absolutely.”
“Any chance of showing me round the college while it’s in operation? I don’t want to disturb anyone, but…”
“No problem at all.” Flowers pushed to his feet.
Haris picked his moment as they headed out into the corridor. “I thought the young man who played the Liszt was very good.”
“Tyler Bellamy. Hmm. He likes to be different. The students know full well they have to wear tuxes.”
“Is this his final year?”
“Yes, thank goodness.”
The hairs bristled on Haris’s arms. “What’s he done?”
“He’s difficult.” Flowers sighed. “A bright young man but… He’ll probably go far in the music world. Well, he would if he could settle on one instrument.”
Haris wanted to hear more about Tyler but knew it was unwise to look too interested. “How many hours are students expected to practice?”
“As many as they can fit in. Some of the practice rooms are along this corridor.”
As if Haris hadn’t been able to tell from the jumble of sounds coming from more instruments than he could identify. It would be too much to hope he’d bump into Tyler, and it made him wonder what the hell he was doing. If he did see him, he’d probably freak him out. Haris hurried Flowers through the rest of the tour, stopped asking questions and didn’t hide his impatience to get out of there.
When they turned a corner and Haris saw Tyler strolling toward them, he felt old and pathetic. He could have engineered a more convincing chance encounter than this. Tyler’s eyes widened when he spotted him. Haris’s feet appeared to be lodged in treacle. The guy was even more appealing in daylight.
“Talk of the devil,” Flowers said.
An appealing devil.
“Tyler, this is Haris Evans. He was at the concert last night and just telling me he enjoyed your performance.”
Tyler tightened his mouth into a scowl and his beautiful dark eyes went even blacker.
“Though you played La Campanella prestissimo rather than allegro,” Flowers said. “It wasn’t a race.”
“I like to play it fast,” Tyler muttered.
“Could I hear you play it again?” Stupid, stupid. Haris wanted the words back. Blood roared in his ears and he felt nauseous. His voice didn’t even sound like his. What the hell am I doing? Think of something fast. “I’m arranging a corporate event and trying to come up with some entertainment.” That might have fooled Flowers, but not Tyler whose raised eyebrows almost made Haris laugh.
“Find an empty room and prove you can play La Campanella at the right speed,” Flowers said.
“What? Now?” Tyler asked.
“If you’re not busy.” Haris turned to Flowers and held out his hand. “Thank you for showing me round. I’m sure Tyler can point the way out.” He couldn’t be clearer than that.
Flowers shook his hand. “Thank you so much for the…yes, well. Thank you. If you decide you don’t want Tyler, I can suggest some other…more suitable students.”
Haris’s gut clenched. Flowers headed left and Tyler stalked off in the other direction, checking the rooms he passed. Haris followed, his breathing ragged. He wondered if he’d ever felt more nervous about making a move. But that was largely because he only ever made a move in a place where men were after the same thing as him. A fast fuck.
When they were inside a practice room and the door was shut, Tyler turned to face him with his arms crossed, defiance written all over him. “What the fuck do you want?”
Haris opened his mouth and nothing came out.
“You really were at the concert, weren’t you? Flowers bloody knows you. Fucking hell. Did you follow me from here last night?” He started to pace. “Of course you did. Thinking of blackmailing me into being your sub? Going to threaten to tell Flowers what I do in my spare time? Well, it’s got nothing to do with anyone but me.”
Oh shit.
Tyler came right up into his space, so close his breath hit Haris’s lips. “Changed your mind about fucking me? Want to see my latest test for STDs? I’m clean as a whistle. That make it okay? Want to go to some cheap hotel for an hour? Collect the thanks you refused last night?”
“No.” Although his cock thought that was a bloody fantastic idea.
Tyler backed away. “What are you doing here?”
“Play for me.”
“I’m not some performing monkey.”
“I want to hear you play.”
I want to fuck you.
“I want to see you play.”
I want my cock in your mouth.
“I want to get to know you.”
I want to suck your cock.
Shit. Haris hoped Tyler couldn’t read minds or have x-ray vision and see the state of his dick under his coat.
Tyler stared at him for a long while before he sat at the piano. His fingers flew over the keys and Haris didn’t hear a thing. All he could think about was the curve of Tyler’s chin, his tight-lipped anger, the dark stubble on cheeks he longed to touch, physically ached to feel rubbing against him. Everything about the guy fascinated him. How he dipped his head toward the keys, the way he made love to the instrument, the changing expression on his face as he played.
I am so fucking lost.
He didn’t even register Tyler had finished, he just stared, submerged in thoughts of him. Only when Tyler stood and the stool scraped across the floor did Haris react. He started and let out a shaky laugh.
“Thought you’d fallen asleep.” Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets.
Haris didn’t know what to say. How could a guy have such an effect on him?
“I don’t usually render anyone speechless,” Tyler muttered.
Walk away now before you drown. You’re freaking him out, for Christ’s sake.
“I kind of like it.” Tyler smiled and Haris couldn’t have moved to save his life.
I need to kiss him.
“Want to get a coffee?” Tyler asked.
He managed a nod.
Tyler ran his fingers through his hair. “Then you can tell me what you’re really doing here.”
They walked out of the college and into Greenwich. Tyler led him to a café near the Cutty Sark, the newly opened reconstructed clipper that had been badly damaged in a fire several years ago.
“Don’t you think it looks like it’s parked on some massive greenhouse?” Tyler asked.
“Yes.” The ship sat frozen in a glass sea, unable to sail away, just like him.
Tyler chose a table at the back.
“What can I get you?” asked a red-haired waiter.
“Black coffee and a chocolate brownie,” Tyler said.
Haris swallowed to bring moisture back into his mouth. “The same.” Christ, I don’t even like black coffee or chocolate brownies. Not that it mattered. He doubted he could eat or drink a thing.
“So…” Tyler said. “Are you stalking me?”
Haris barked out a laugh. “No. Yes. No. Oh Christ.” His breath seared his throat.
“As long as you’re not the Grim Reaper…” Tyler smiled again, his face suddenly open, and a weight lifted from Haris’s stomach.
The coffees and brownies arrived and he regained some control. “Could I have some hot milk, please?”
He turned from the waiter to Tyler and saw he was staring at him. Tyler’s pupils had dilated and his lips were parted. Oh fuck, it isn’t just me. Whatever this is, he feels it too.
Once he’d added milk to his coffee and taken a sip, Haris felt able to speak again. “The first time I saw you was last night at the concert.” He didn’t think he needed to tell him about listening to him throw up in the bathroom.
Tyler’s lip quirked. “You think I played La Campanella too fast?”
“I suspect only Liszt can answer that and he’d probably have told you to play it as fast as you fucking well like. Probably without the word fucking.”
Tyler smiled.
Haris took a deep breath. He wasn’t comfortable exposing himself like this. It was so much easier to have sex with some anonymous guy and walk away. But that wasn’t what he wanted. Not this time.
“So…” Tyler muttered.
“You have me mesmerized. I feel like I’ve been overwhelmed by something I don’t understand. You, your music… When you left last night, I followed. I thought you’d notice me on the train, but you were in too much of a hurry. I didn’t get into the warehouse straight away. I had to wait and buy a ticket.”
Tyler stared straight at him. “Was it you who turned off the lights and started the fire alarm?”
“Yes.”
“Ha! I knew it.”
“I couldn’t get anywhere with your rigger. Talking wouldn’t have persuaded him. I needed a diversion.”
“How did you know I wanted out?”
“Your eyes.”
Tyler closed them a moment and then raised his head to look at him again. “I’m not a bottom,” he said quietly. “I don’t have a rigger. I’m not into getting hurt for other people’s entertainment or my own. If that’s what you’re into and you’re looking for a sub, then you might as well get up and walk away because I’m not going to call you sir and ask you to hit me. You should probably walk away anyway.”
Haris watched him break off chunks of brownie, slip them between his lips and lick his fingers, and knew walking away was not an option. And not just because of the steel pole in his trousers.
“I’m not into that scene either,” Haris said. “I was only there because I’d followed you. Are you involved with anyone?” He clenched his fingers under the table.
“No.”
He let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’d like you to be involved with me.”
Tyler didn’t say anything. He pressed brown crumbs together on his plate and then flicked the lump aside. “What changed from last night? I offered. You turned me down. You acted like I repulsed you.”
“I know, I’m sorry. You didn’t. You have no idea how much I wanted you. But if I’d let it happen, we’d have fucked in my car and that would have been it. I want…I need something more with you. You…fascinate me. It’s a long time since I’ve felt so intrigued by anyone.”
Tyler stayed silent.
“But if we’re going to take this further, there have to be conditions,” Haris said. His racing heart scared him. Lust swamped his common sense. He couldn’t let his emotions run unchecked. If he treated this as if it was a business deal, he could stay in control and Tyler would be no threat.
Tyler shifted on his seat. “What sort of conditions?”
“You’d be mine exclusively. Which means while you’re with me, you don’t fuck anyone else.”
He scowled. “I know what exclusively means. That apply to you too?”
Haris nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“What else?”
“You live with me, eat with me, spend your evenings with me. You can have your own room. Unless you have college commitments, I expect you to be available to accompany me to business events and take occasional trips abroad. We’ll spend Christmas and New Year together.”
Tyler leaned back in his chair and laughed. “You want to skip the going out on dates, getting to know you bit and move straight into living together?”
“Yes.” Because I have to have you now and one night won’t be enough.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Not as crazy as I feel about you. I can’t let you go. I have to tie you to me.
Tyler’s lips curved in a smile and Haris understood he couldn’t keep a guy like him. Tyler was wild and beautiful, and he’d get bored and want to leave, unless Haris made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
“I’m prepared to pay you twenty thousand pounds to be mine for four months.”
Tyler’s chair banged on the floor and his hand clattered onto the edge of his plate almost knocking it off the table. “That’s a business deal, not a relationship.”
Haris wet his lips. He was glad Tyler had grasped that. “Exactly. I’ll provide another ten to buy clothes and shoes. You’ll need a few smart suits, a tux, ski gear.”
He could have sworn Tyler’s eyes darkened.
“You want to pay me to have sex with you.”
Yes. No. Oh God. “I want to pay you to live with me for four months.”
“And have sex.”
“Yes.” His cock was about to break his zip.
“What sort of sex?” Tyler furrowed his brow.
“You want me to detail it?” Haris swallowed hard.
“I won’t do anything I don’t want to,” Tyler said.
“Okay.”
“You haven’t even asked me what that is?”
“I don’t need to. I don’t want to do anything to you that you don’t want. That’s not my thing.”
“But complete control is?”
I’m paying you so that I can trust you. “I want someone to come home to, someone to have fun with, someone who likes me back. I thought that might be you.”
“You want to pay to fuck me.”
“If that was true, why would I ask you to live with me? I could just arrange to meet you and pay you to stick your arse in the air.”
“If I live with you, I’m conveniently available when you’re horny. Saves you having to leave the house.”
This wasn’t going right but Tyler had neither stormed out, nor refused, only argued. Haris took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “It’s a simple arrangement from which we both benefit. My lawyer can draw up a contract. It’s better like that so we both know exactly where we stand.”
Tyler snapped his finger against his wrist. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
Haris pulled out a business card and set it on the table. “You don’t need to be either.” Yet it was true. He was both insulting and flattering Tyler. This was the worst idea in the world.
“I don’t expect you to answer now.” Because I can’t sit here and listen to you say no. “Think about it. I’ll be at the OXO Tower restaurant tomorrow night. Seven thirty.”
“What makes you think I’m the sort of guy who’d fuck someone for money?” Tyler’s jaw twitched.
“That’s not the way I see you.” Liar. “That’s not what I want.” More lies?
“But you’re offering to pay me. What do you get out of it?”
“I’m paying for your time, your exclusivity, your undivided attention. I’m a busy guy. I know what I want and I want you. Though I’m prepared to share you with your music.”
His attempt at a joke fell flat.
“Four months.” Tyler chewed his lip and Haris longed to soothe it with his tongue.
“Then we walk away from each other.” By then, he’d have worked Tyler out of his system. By then, he’d know whether he could sustain a relationship. By then, he’d know if something was permanently broken inside him.
“You don’t even know me,” Tyler whispered. “I don’t understand. Why so much money? Why four months? Why me?”
Haris could only answer the last. “Because you make me feel…” Oh God, add a word other than desperate or protective, “…irresponsible. If you want to earn twenty thousand, meet me tomorrow.”
He tossed a twenty-pound note on the table and left before Tyler could turn him down or he kept talking and made matters worse. He didn’t think about which direction he was heading, he just didn’t want to stop walking because if he did, his brain might catch up with his mouth and he’d wonder what the hell he’d just done.
Too late. Christ.
He knew what he’d done and why he’d done it. He wanted to make Tyler an offer he couldn’t afford to turn down. He wanted to save Tyler because he hadn’t saved Karl. It didn’t matter that Tyler wasn’t into the BDSM scene. Last night, he had been and if he was desperate for money, he’d get sucked in. But he didn’t just want to save Tyler, he wanted him in his bed.
When he took in the glazed dome that sat above the foot tunnel running under the Thames, Haris ignored the lift and walked down the hundred or so steps that led him fifty feet beneath the river. He made his way along the tiled tunnel, up the stairs on the other side, and emerged into the Isle of Dogs. Ten minutes later he was in his office with a list of calls he needed to make, a list of people he needed to see and enough work to stop him thinking about what a fool he’d just made of himself.
Almost, but not quite. Not so easy to get Tyler out of his head. But the more he thought about what he’d done, the more sense it made. They’d both get exactly what they needed.
Tyler wasn’t easily shocked but fucking hell. He stared at the door of the café and watched Haris walk away. Thirty thousand pounds? Minus the cost of a few items of clothing. He didn’t need to spend ten thousand on clothes. He picked up the brownie Haris hadn’t touched and bit into it. Tyler had a vague feeling he ought to be pissed off by the offer, but since he was already accepting money for guys to do more or less what they wanted to his body, acting annoyed would be a touch hypocritical. What he found insulting was Haris thinking him that sort of guy, someone who could be bought.
Though…I am. Maybe Haris could see that, maybe it was written all over him. Was it really a straight forward business deal or something else? Tyler sagged. What else could it be? Haris had offered to pay him to be his fuck buddy and in doing so, had solved most of his problems. The thirty thousand would eat up a huge chunk of his debt and leave a manageable amount by the time he graduated. There was no need to go anywhere near Prescott ever again. A thought that made him feel happier than he had in a long time. No more sucking off guys he didn’t know. No more threesomes, foursomes. No more Gerald.
But he knew nothing about Haris. At least he knew Prescott was a bastard and Gerald was a sadist. What if Haris was worse? What if he had some weird kink and was into penis plugs or sounds or fisting? One ray of light was that Haris had only been at the BDSM event because he’d followed him, unless he’d lied, and he might have. Although, if he hadn’t been there and Lu had left that ball gag in place… The brownie stuck in his throat and he took the final mouthful of coffee to wash it down.
What was the risk? Haris was offering a business deal, not undying love. A contract for four months and he could walk away with almost all the money he needed. One man to please. A man who already pleased him. How could he turn it down? Tyler twisted Haris’s card in his fingers all the way back to college.