With or Without Him (44 page)

“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 pants 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 pants. 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 his pants 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 blowjob of all 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.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Haris leaned against his front door, inhaled the scent of roast chicken and sage and onion stuffing, and his stomach rumbled. Wilson was out tonight with Alcide at a dog training class, though Haris wasn’t sure the animal was trainable, and had left the meal cooking. He kicked off his shoes, hung his coat in the closet and paused to listen to Tyler playing the piano at supersonic speed. He wondered how he’d ever enjoyed coming home to less than this, life with Tyler. He’d left the office an hour early because he had a surprise to share and he thought they could… The music stopped abruptly and he heard Tyler speaking.

“Hey, how’s it going?… Oh, you can’t? Yeah, course I understand… Yeah, he is. More money than sense… Hey, find your own rich guy… No way… I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Looking forward to seeing who?
Haris knew he shouldn’t listen in but he didn’t move.

“Yeah, the bloody contract’s done, finished, over. Good thing too. Talk about sucking up my time and energy. I feel like a huge weight’s been lifted from my shoulders and now I can get on with my life.”

He wished he’d made himself move because the weight had shifted from Tyler’s shoulders to his—a suffocating blanket of disappointment. He slipped into his study and slumped at his desk.
How could I have been such a fool?
He pulled off his tie and undid the top button of his shirt but his throat still felt choked.

So much for surprising Tyler with a week’s sailing in the Virgin Islands later this year. Maybe if he cancelled it the same day, he wouldn’t get charged. Haris pulled up the lid of his laptop and realized Tyler had left a line of windows open. He clicked on one and the sharp pain in his chest made him gasp.

More confirmation of Tyler’s intentions hadn’t been needed, Haris had heard enough. But if there’d been any doubt, it had gone. Single bedroom flats in London. A whole line of them. Haris put his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. Four months since he’d offered Tyler the deal. Four months in his bed for twenty thousand pounds. The four months were up and Tyler had just told someone the contract was finished and he was looking forward to getting on with his life. When was the bastard going to tell
him
? When he’d found a place to live? If he hadn’t come home early today would Tyler have just relocated without saying anything?

Haris shifted from hurt to furious in a nanosecond.
He’d
set this up.
He
was the one who’d end it. He picked up his phone and sent a text, his fingers trembling.

Tyler walked in a moment or two later. “Hey, you’re home early. Texting me, you lazy arse? Why did…? What’s wrong?” His smile flat-lined.

Haris stood up. “Pull your pants down and lean over the desk.”

“I’m not in the mood to have my backside paddled, not when you’re in a temper.”

“Just fucking do it.”

“Haris—”

“I’m fucking paying you to do what I want, when I want. Lean over the fucking desk.”

Tyler blinked, pushed open the button on his jeans and yanked them and his boxers down together. Haris shifted the laptop out of the way and Tyler dropped face down in its place.

“Do you have any—?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haris snapped.

He unfastened his pants and moved behind him.
Why am I fucking hard?
He spat on his fingers and rubbed his cock, then relented, leaned to open the top drawer on his desk and pulled out a tube of lube and a condom.

“What are we—?”

“I said be quiet.” Haris’s heart battered his ribs, ripping itself to bloody shreds.

He pushed his cock against Tyler’s anus and kept pushing. He pushed and pressed and pushed and pressed until Tyler groaned and his muscles gave way. Haris wrapped his hands around Tyler’s hips, pulled back and then drove into him so hard that he yelped.

“What the—?”

“Don’t say a fucking word,” Haris growled.

There was a voice inside him telling him to stop but he ignored it. He dug his fingers harder into Tyler’s skin and rammed himself into him.

Feel me.

Take me.

Keep me.

He repeated the words in his head over and over and over until the orgasm he didn’t deserve started to build in his gut. Tyler clung to the other side of the desk and kept his face down. He neither moved nor spoke and that made Haris even more furious. He drove into him harder and faster and then he was coming, his cock swelling, his balls tingling and as he jetted into Tyler’s ass, he dropped his head down onto his treacherous back and pressed his wet face against his treacherous neck.

The last time I’ll do this.

He was instantly ashamed he’d been so rough, even though he knew it turned Tyler on sometimes. It hadn’t this time and Haris hadn’t wanted it to. The moment he’d finished, he withdrew, whipped off the condom and wiped himself down. He rubbed his face dry on his shirt sleeve and zipped up.

Tyler struggled upright and yanked up his pants. The smile on his face was tentative. “What was that about? Bad day at the office?”

“Fuck off.”

Tyler glared. “Hey, you don’t need to take out your bad mood on me.”

Haris stared at him. “You’re exactly who I need to take it out on. That was our last fuck. We’re done. Make sure you choose a place big enough for the piano. I did promise you could have it if you stayed the distance.” He dropped into his chair.

Tyler’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

You fucking know.
“We had a four-month arrangement and it’s finished. I’ll transfer the twenty thousand into your bank account.”

“I don’t understand. I thought—”

“It’s quite simple.” Haris couldn’t believe he sounded so calm because a fire raged out of control in his gut. “You knew how long this would last right from the start.”

There was a long silence before Tyler spoke. “So I did.”

Haris didn’t look up as Tyler left the room. He expected him to slam the door, but he didn’t. If Tyler didn’t need him anymore, Haris sure as fuck didn’t need him either.

Tyler went straight upstairs to the room he’d long stopped using. He showered quickly and dressed in his own clothes. He packed but left everything Haris had bought him, except for the phone and the photos of his family. He threw the watch he loved on the bed. Maybe he should have expected this, but he hadn’t and he didn’t fucking understand. He thought they meant something to each other.
What the hell had happened?

Okay, so the four months were more or less up but since Christmas, Tyler had stopped thinking about the fucking contract, stopped worrying that Haris couldn’t utter those three words. He
knew
the man loved him. He showed it in everything he said and did. Tyler had been sure that eventually Haris would say what he longed to hear. He’d been certain of it.

I am a fucking idiot.

Nothing had happened other than the contract ending. Haris had to be a commitment-phobe or maybe Tyler simply wasn’t good enough.
My heart.
It hurt so much he wondered if he was having some sort of medical issue.

Tyler wished he felt able to wait to say goodbye to Wilson and Alcide, though in a way he was glad they were out because he felt too humiliated to face them, even the bloody dog. He’d miss the little mutt. He wasn’t feeling too humiliated to have a final word with Haris. Yesterday everything had been fine and today it wasn’t. Nothing had happened apart from the four months being up but—
oh fuck it,
what was the point going over and over the same thing? Haris had made his feelings clear.

Tyler dropped his bag in the hall and stared at the study door. He hadn’t done anything wrong so there was nothing he could say to put things right.
Though Tyler wanted to smash his fist into Haris’s chest and check there was actually a heart there.

He stepped away and then stepped back. Maybe he should try and talk to him. But why make this any worse than it already was? Whether Tyler liked it or not, to Haris these four months had been about sex more than anything else. He’d made himself clear enough at the start and now again at the end. The joy of being with someone he thought needed him, wanted him, loved him—turned to bitter ashes in his mouth.