With or Without Him (8 page)

Haris did it for him. He pulled the coat from Tyler’s shoulders and freed his arms.

“Do you have any water?” Tyler asked.

Haris unscrewed a bottle and put it in his hand. Tyler shook as he lifted it but he drank the whole lot. Haris watched it glug down his throat, imagining himself licking his neck, sucking his Adam’s apple, sucking his—
Stop thinking about sex.
But it was impossible. The guy sprawled naked on the seat, a broken wing draped across his crotch that didn’t hide his erection and Haris’s cock was diamond hard.

“Take my boots off?” Tyler asked.

Haris lifted his leg and levered off the footwear.

Tyler let out a strangled laugh. “I can’t believe you even managed to get those on.” He tried to free a clamp on his nipple and yelped. “Fucking bloody hell. My fingers.”

“You want me to do it?”

“Please.”

Haris started at the top of his chest and worked down. Every time Tyler moaned, it excited him, which alarmed him beyond belief. Haris had turned his back on this a long while ago. He’d promised himself he’d never go there or do this again.

“Oh fuck.” Tyler rubbed his palm over the red lines on his ribs. “That bloody hurts. Fucking Lu.”

“You need the bathroom?”

Tyler snorted. “That’s the bastard’s name—Lu.”

Haris made a mental note. He took the final clip off Tyler’s torso and hesitated.

Tyler lifted his wing to uncover his crotch. “You missed a few. Think you could get those as well? If I try, I’ll probably rip my balls off.”

Haris began to unfasten the remaining clamps and found it hard to resist the urge to pet the nipped skin.

Tyler inhaled noisily. “Thanks. Having them taken off feels so much better than having them attached, though not enough to make me want them on in the first place. Well, not this many and not so fucking tight.” He shuddered. “By the way, I’m Tyler.”

“Haris.”

Tyler sucked in a long breath when Haris removed the last clamp. He wondered if Tyler had seen how much his fingers had shaken. Tyler’s cock was a work of art. Long, thick and uncut, it jutted out from his belly under the strain of its weight, forced to stay erect by the tight ring. No wreath of curls, Tyler was shaved smooth apart from a dark treasure trail running from his navel. A path Haris was desperate to explore. His intrepid cock pushed insistently against his zipper. Thank God it was dark.

Tyler pawed at his groin. “Christ, I want this thing gone.”

“Think it needs cutting off?” Haris asked.

Tyler snapped his eyes open and stared at him a moment before his lips quirked in a grin. “Ah right. Not my dick. Don’t suppose…you’ve got a bottle of oil or…?”

“No.”

Tyler sighed and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock.

I could do that.
The words stayed in his head as did the idea of making a move on Tyler. Haris wasn’t indecisive. He knew what he wanted and he usually took it. He was as alpha male as they come. He worked in a profession that required him to be quick thinking and authoritative. Falter in the world of venture capitalism and someone else stepped in but…but…
I have him in my car and I have no idea what to do, what to say, how to stop him slipping away.

The prominent blue veins that mapped Tyler’s cock made Haris’s mouth water. He thought about what they’d feel like under his tongue, imagined suctioning those firm balls into his mouth and—
Stop fucking staring at him.

Tyler gave a loud groan as the ring slipped free. “Jesus. That was about ten sizes too small. Not that I’m saying…yeah well, you know what I mean or maybe you don’t. Shut up now, Tyler.”

Haris hid his smile.

“At least tell me you’re not straight so I don’t think I’ve warped some innocent het,” Tyler said.

“I’m not straight.”

Tyler’s smile dragged a burst of pre-come from Haris’s cock. Hopefully, it would be absorbed by his boxers. He didn’t want Wilson speculating on a stain in his crotch.

“Pass my pants, would you?”

Their fingers touched as Haris handed them over and the dam inside him broke to let lust flood free. Like a river bursting its banks, desire splashed along his veins, robbing him of air, forcing him to ride the flow. But on the point of throwing himself on Tyler, he flung himself back against the door. Tyler was too busy struggling out of the wings to notice. Feathers flew everywhere.

“Thanks for…well, fuck, thanks for saving my life.” Tyler turned to look at him as he pulled on the rest of his clothes. “When the lights went out and I heard the alarm, I thought I’d had it.”

“Was he your usual rigger? You shouldn’t work with him again. He’s irresponsible.”

“Good thing you were there.” Tyler reached out and rubbed his thumb over Haris’s knuckles.

Haris yanked his hand away and Tyler pulled back, a puzzled look on his face.

What the fuck am I playing at?

“Sorry,” Tyler mumbled. “Didn’t mean anything. Just wanted to thank you.”

“No,” Haris blurted.

“No what? No—fuck off or no—come here?”

Haris let out some inarticulate sound. He didn’t know what he wanted. Well, he did but he couldn’t
say
it.

Tyler laughed and the next moment he was straddling Haris’s lap, pressing his mouth against his, and Haris forgot why this wasn’t a good idea, forgot what he’d promised himself. Tyler had his hand stuffed between them, reaching for Haris’s cock as he rocked against him.

The car braked suddenly and the jolt punched sense back into Haris’s head. If he let this continue, it would go the way of all but one of his encounters and he’d never see the guy again. He pushed Tyler back and slid away from him.

“No.”

His broken angel was out of the car before he could say another word. Tyler slammed the door and Haris flinched.

He opened the privacy screen. “Wilson, find a place to park and when he’s turned the corner, get out and follow him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Haris watched Tyler hurry along the pavement, head down, hands in his pockets.

Let him go.

I can’t.

Tyler bubbled with fury as he stomped down the street. He was angry with Prescott, Lu, Haris and also himself for thinking a man like Haris would be interested in him. Even as he suffocated behind that ball gag, Tyler had fallen hard when he’d caught sight of him watching—a tall, dark-haired guy wearing a bowtie. Haris had the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen—a deep green, the pupils outlined with a thin dark line as if they’d been drawn with a pencil. Tyler’s stomach had lurched as painfully as if the cross had hit the floor.

Haris was a little taller, broader, and a hell of a lot richer than him. Tyler didn’t care about the money but a swanky car with a chauffeur? His coat was expensive and so was the Rolex on his wrist, assuming it was real. He had well cut dark hair and olive skin. He’d either been on a winter holiday or he was foreign, though he sounded more English than Tyler with that cut glass accent. He was so far out of Tyler’s league that he might as well have been on the moon. No wonder he’d reared away when Tyler had thrown himself at him.
I’m an idiot.

In any case, why was he even wasting energy thinking about him? Haris had been at the BDSM event which showed which way he leaned and that wasn’t a world Tyler wanted to know any more about than he already did. But thank fuck Haris had looked at him and understood about the ball gag. He’d even tried to persuade Lu to take it out. Tyler stumbled. Then what? Haris hadn’t persisted. He’d given up and walked off. And the lights had gone out. The alarm had gone off. And Haris had come back.

Tyler turned the corner to find he’d returned to the warehouse. Two fire engines stood on the street but there was no sign of fire, no smoke, no panic. As he approached the building, the fire tenders pulled away and a group of people made their way inside.

Had Haris turned off the lights, activated the alarm? Tyler’s gut told him he had. So was he an experienced Dom? Someone who knew Lu had gone too far? Someone who wanted to show Tyler how a Dom/sub relationship should work? But he’d recoiled from him which was hardly Dom behavior. Maybe he already had a sub.
No way am I a sub.

Fuck it.
What did it matter?

No Mex on the door, so he made his way up the stairs. Inside the gallery, people were packing up. Prescott wouldn’t be happy his event had been spoiled. Tyler spotted him with Jeremy and headed straight over.

Prescott frowned. “Where have you been?”

“Burning to death in a fire.”

“What fire? It was a false alarm.” Prescott clenched his jaw. “Some wanker has cost me a lot of money. We hadn’t even got to the main event.”

“Aren’t you insured?” Jeremy asked.

“Only if there’d
been
a fire. Pity there wasn’t.”

A red haze filled Tyler’s vision. “Good thing for me there wasn’t. You didn’t tell me this was what you wanted me to do.”

Prescott laughed. “You’ll do anything for money. You’re like me.”

Tyler glared. “You like having fucking clamps biting into your tackle? Having a ball gag strapped to your head? Not being able to give a safe word? It was fucking awful. And Lu left me. If there’d been a fire, I’d have died.”

“What are you talking about?” Prescott glanced toward where Lu was packing up his things.

“As soon as the lights and the alarm went off, Lu disappeared. He left me tied up and gagged. My safety was his responsibility and he fucked off. I hung there in the dark with the bloody alarm blaring and thought I was going to die.”

Jeremy gasped.

“Then how the hell did you get free?” Prescott asked.

“I was untied by someone who didn’t freak out like everyone else.” Tyler stepped right into Prescott’s personal space. “Lu is a fucking moron.”

“I’ll have words.”

Tyler laughed. “Yeah, right. What are you going to say? ‘Don’t do it again?’ I want my money. And don’t try and tell me I didn’t do what you wanted. I did.”

Prescott pushed him back and pulled out his wallet. “You were supposed to be here all night. There. Five hundred. Half. That’s all you’re getting.”

Tyler shoved the notes into his pocket. He’d worried Prescott wouldn’t give him anything.

Prescott sighed as he looked around the room. “Now clear off, both of you. I’m no longer in the mood.”

Tyler stalked across the floor, Jeremy on his heels.

“Hey, wait up,” Jeremy called.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

Tyler slammed to a halt at the entrance to the gallery and turned to face him. “You left me too.”

“I had no choice. Prescott dragged me outside.”

Tyler shook his head. “There’s always a choice.” He hurried down the stairs.

“There was no fucking fire,” Jeremy called.

Tyler emerged onto the street and took a deep breath of cold air. There
was
a fire and he’d just walked out of it. He never wanted to see Prescott again.

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.

O
hGodohGodohGodohGod.
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.