With or Without Him (14 page)

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Authors: Barbara Elsborg

BOOK: With or Without Him
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Tyler took a risk and said, “You should have let me suck you off.”

Haris smiled. “Yeah, I should. I just…”

“We need condoms and lube,” Tyler blurted, not wanting to hear anymore.

Haris reached for a bedside drawer.

“Don’t get pissy when I ask, but you want me face up or face down?” Tyler asked.

“I want you every which way we can come up with, but let’s start on our sides.”

“You’re a big guy. Use lots of lube. Er…the whole tube would be about right.”

Haris groaned. “I have half a tube that’s past its use-by date.”

“Much past? Pre-September 1992 I’d worry. That’s when I was born.”

Haris shook with laughter. “Are you always such a wiseass?”

“Only when I’m nervous. Oh and when I’m not nervous. If it annoys you I’ll try and zip it.”

Tyler trembled as Haris kissed down his spine. “I like you just as you are.”

He writhed on the bed.
Oh that feels good.
“Smooth, spunky and smart?”

“One ‘s’ will do. Sexy.”

Haris nipped his hip and far from hurting him, the sharp bite sent him soaring. Tyler lay on his side while Haris nibbled his way to his neck. There was a place that most very rarely found…
oh yeah…
he released a loud groan. Haris fluttered his tongue over the same spot and Tyler quivered. “Yeahyeahyeahyeahyessss.”

“Noting that for future reference,” Haris said.

“There’s a few more places like that. You can take as long as you like looking for them.”

Haris pressed up behind him and ran his hand over his chest, exploring every indentation and then suddenly pinched his nipple, twisting it into a point. Tyler moaned and shuddered.

“That another one?”

“Uhhh. Not too hard, not too soft. Just right, Goldilocks.”

Haris nipped the shell of his ear. “Maybe this too.”

“Aaaahhh.”

“What about this?” He lifted Tyler’s leg and slid a lubed finger down the seam of his butt.

“Arrrgggh.”

Haris circled his finger around his pucker which launched into a frantic twitch.

“Shi…ahh…shooooot.”

“Is that a new language?” Haris asked.

“Yeah. My very own. Put your fingers in my mouth and shut me up before I whimper like a wuss.”

An arm slipped under his neck, two long fingers slid into Tyler’s mouth and his already about-to-burst cock swelled even more. He sucked at Haris’s hand and Haris’s other fingers pushed harder at his anus, coaxing his muscles into opening. As he exhaled against his ear, Tyler zoomed into sensory overload and relaxed enough to allow Haris entry into his body.

“Damn,” Haris gasped.

A short, sweet burn before Tyler’s body sucked Haris’s finger deeper.
That’s good.

“More,” Tyler mumbled past the fingers in his mouth.

He sucked harder as Haris pressed another digit inside his ass, and then finally, finally the guy started to move them. Tyler flexed back as Haris speared his fingers into him, his balls tingling with pleasure. When the fingers in his ass scissored, his teeth clamped down on those in his mouth and Haris hissed in his ear. The guy found his prostate and stroked it until Tyler vibrated with the need to come. The fingers slipped from his mouth to his chin to stroke the line of his jaw.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tyler moaned.

“Take it easy,” Haris whispered.

“I need you in me now. Please. Don’t make me beg. Please. I’m not gonna beg. Please. Please. Please.”

He sighed when Haris withdrew his fingers from his butt, sighed again when he heard a packet rip and the snap of latex that followed. Haris lifted his leg higher and Tyler was still open enough to allow him to push straight in. He gasped out a groan of pure delight and Haris matched it.

“Oh fuck,” Haris muttered.

Tyler’s cock swelled, his balls drew up tight against his body and he bit his lip as he tried to rein himself in.
Don’t come yet.
Haris shifted into a punishing rhythm, driving into him so forcefully that Tyler could barely breathe. Haris clenched his fingers around his jaw and shoved him up the bed with each thrust, and the feel of him holding his face was as much a turn on as the sensation of his cock powering into him. Control but not domination. As Tyler reached for his cock, unable to resist the temptation to take himself the rest of the way to oblivion, Haris’s hand got there first.

One touch and Tyler’s entire body spasmed. His rectal muscles clamped down on Haris, and he swore he could feel the signal zipping from his brain to his balls, telling them it was okay to let go. Haris fucked him harder, touched his sweet spot and sent him spinning into space. Come spurted over Haris’s hand, the bed, it even felt like it had hit the back of his neck because it was wet, only that wasn’t possible. A thought started to form and slipped away as Haris came too, his hot, sweaty body pressed so tight to his that Tyler could feel every muscle in his chest. Then Haris arched, his body bending like a bow and he shuddered against Tyler as he exhaled.

They lay panting and trembling, and before Tyler could move a muscle, even to blink, Haris pulled out of his butt with a groan and then slipped off the bed and stood. Tyler wasn’t into cuddling but… He didn’t need affection but… If he was going to spend four months with this man it would have been nice to have a touch of kindness after. Haris headed for his bathroom.

“Shall I leave?” Tyler called.

“Yes. See you in the morning.”

He was pissed he felt disappointed but left the room and climbed the stairs to where he’d dumped his stuff. Too shattered to shower, he crawled into bed and found a perverse satisfaction knowing Haris was going to lie in his wet spot.
Serves him bloody right.

 

 

Why didn’t I tell him to stay?
Haris stood in the shower with his hands pressed to the tiles and his eyes closed. He knew why. Because Tyler had asked. He hadn’t curled up in his bed looking as though the idea of moving hadn’t come into his head. Tyler hadn’t reached for him. It was a reminder of the arrangement between them. Haris was getting what he’d paid for. Four months of uncomplicated sex. That would be enough, wouldn’t it?

Chapter Eight

Haris pushed open the kitchen door into a scene of absolute chaos. It looked as though every pot and pan was in use. The dark granite countertops were dusted with flour, as was the floor, and also Wilson who stood staring in open-mouthed disbelief at the spatula-wielding Tyler whose clothes were spotless. How had he managed that?

“Good morning.” Tyler beamed at him which was another surprise after the curt dismissal Haris had given him last night. “You’re just in time.”

For what?

“I tried to explain that your breakfast requirements are very particular, sir.” Wilson glared Tyler. “Coffee with hot milk, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and two slices of whole wheat toast spread with butter and a special thick cut Old English marmalade that I have to order months in advance from the supplier.”

“Time to live dangerously. We’re having pancakes.” Tyler poured more mixture into the pan, and by accident onto the halogen hob, filling the kitchen with the smell of burning. He flipped the pan and Wilson ducked.

“Oh well done. One that didn’t hit me or go onto the floor,” Wilson said.

“The floor’s clean. If you’re worried, I’ll eat those.” He tipped another pancake onto a plate, popped it in the oven and poured in more mixture.

Haris smiled and took his usual seat at the table.

“Coffee, sir.” Wilson put the cup in front of him. “I apologize if the taste is not quite up to standard. Your guest insisted on
helping.

The emphasis Wilson placed on the last word made it clear what he thought about that. Tyler dropped a handful of cutlery onto the table and Wilson shuddered.

“Draw up a chair, Wilson,” Tyler said. “There’s plenty.”

“That would be most inappropriate. I always have my breakfast after—”

“Sit,” Haris said.

Tyler carried over three plates, balancing one on his forearm, and Wilson gave a quiet whimper as he sat down. The plates had cost a fortune but Haris liked their clean simplicity. Haris looked from Wilson’s unhappy face to Tyler’s happy one, now with flour smudging his cheeks, and sighed. They were just going to have to get used to each other. It was only four months after all.

Haris poured a tablespoon of maple syrup onto his pancakes and handed the bottle to Wilson who took about the same. Tyler upended the bottle over his plate and let the liquid ooze out until his three pancakes almost floated in a light brown viscous sea.

“Sure you have enough?” Haris asked.

“I can always add more.” Tyler grinned.

The pancakes weren’t bad and Haris was touched Tyler had bothered. He hid his smile when he saw how quickly Wilson ate his.

“Want some more?” Tyler asked. “There’s plenty of flour and eggs.”

“Really? I’m most surprised.” Wilson stared pointedly at the floor.

“I’ll clean up.”

“No, no, no. It will be my absolute delight to return the kitchen to its usual pristine state. It should only take me about five hours, assuming my back doesn’t seize up which it is prone to do, but every moment spent cleaning I’ll be remembering the wonder of these most excellent pancakes and the taste of the…er…coffee, and making a note that I need to buy more eggs, flour and maple syrup at the supermarket. Perhaps two bottles of the syrup.”

Tyler laughed. “Sorry I made a mess. I’ll sort it out.”

“Really I must insist I be allowed to do it on my own.”

“But I’d feel terrible leaving you to do it all.”

Wilson cast Haris a despairing look.

“Wilson will enjoy doing it, Tyler. Let it go.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you,” Tyler said. “Can you both shut your eyes a minute?”

“Why?” Haris asked.

“I want to lick my plate. I’ve never had real maple syrup. I don’t want to waste a drop.”

Wilson’s mouth fell open again.

Haris smiled. “If you want to lick your plate, lick your plate.”

Tyler stared straight at him as he put out his tongue and lapped up the smears of syrup. Haris’s cock decided it needed to watch too and pressed against his zipper.
Oh Christ.

Wilson began to clear the table. “May I enquire about your plans for the day, sir?”

I’m going to take Tyler straight back to bed.
“We’re going shopping. We’ll travel by Tube and you can collect us later.”

“As you wish, sir. Umm, there’s something I need to bring to your attention. The unusual situation we seem to have recently found ourselves in on a number of occasions whilst out in the car, even though you and I are not of the same mind about the veracity of the incidents, occurred again last night.”

Sometimes he didn’t understand Wilson at all.

“I’ll need more detail,” Haris said. “Alternatively, go for a maximum of five words.” Not that he thought that possible.

Wilson glanced at Tyler.

“Tyler, you want to go and wash the flour off your face?”

“Sure.” He pushed back from the table and left the kitchen.

Wilson fidgeted. “I didn’t want to say in front of the young man, sir, but I believe we were followed again last night. The white Fiat.”

Haris frowned.
Curious.
Wilson’s clear concern made him wonder if he should have taken this more seriously.

“Do we need to inform the authorities?” Wilson asked.

And have them laugh in his face? “We have no proof, no license plate, no motive.”

Although coming up with a motive wouldn’t be difficult. An investor who’d lost money and blamed him, someone sent by his father or one of his brothers to check up on him, some random guy he’d pissed off without realizing. Though it was crazy to be going for the unlikely when there were at least two people who hated him. Haris swallowed hard. Or it could be no one at all. Just Wilson’s James Bond complex.

“Tell me if you spot the car again.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Tyler will be moving in.”

Wilson didn’t blink.

“I’ll ask him not to cook,” Haris added.

“Thank you, sir. As always, you are a paragon of wisdom.”

No, he wasn’t. If he had been, he’d have stayed as far away from Tyler as he could. As it was, the guy lay naked on the bed when he got upstairs and their shopping trip was a little delayed.

 

 

Shopping for clothes for Tyler was supposed to have been a pleasurable experience but it quickly became clear Tyler was not enjoying himself. Haris sat in a comfortable chair in the men’s department of Harrods, trying not to drool at a man who looked drop-dead gorgeous in everything he tried on, particularly the tux. The fantasy of dragging Tyler into the changing room and fucking him kept his cock entertained for quite a while. The assistant had fallen into lust with Tyler as well and asked him if he was a model. Tyler had rolled his eyes, but why not? Tall and slender with a bad-boy sultry look on his face, he’d grace the pages of any fashion magazine.

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