"The damage starts the moment we walk through the door."

"But I mean really hurt? Beat up or..."

Tyler sighed. "I've seen guys get hurt when they didn't do as they were told. They learn to play Prescott's games or they don't come back. Don't take the risk. Don't go back."

The Adam's apple in Jeremy's throat went up and down. "I don't think I've ever been more turned on than when you were on your knees in front of me. Black hair, black wings and dark eyes-like a demon. You looked so s.e.xy."

You did too.

"No one's ever sucked me off before," Jeremy whispered. "Could you tell?"

"I wondered."

"I never seem to get a boyfriend who wants me to top."

Probably because you look and act like a bottom.

"If that's what you want, you're not going to find it at Prescott's parties. My b.l.o.w.j.o.b was to soften you up. Yeah, you might be asked to f.u.c.k someone or you might get another b.l.o.w.j.o.b, but Prescott wants you because you..." have sub written all over you, "...look sweet and innocent, as though you'd never seen another man's c.o.c.k. He's cunning. He knows how to pull in guys like us and guys like them." Tyler lowered his voice. "I bet no one but me and him touched you last night, did they?"

Jeremy shook his head. "He said I was special."

Tyler pretended to barf and Jeremy elbowed him. "Hey, I am special."

"Want to guess how many touched me?" Tyler asked.

Jeremy paled.

"I lost f.u.c.king count." Tyler stood up.

"This isn't the stop." He tugged on Tyler's jeans.

Tyler looked down at him.

"Don't get off." He dropped his hold. "Please."

It was a mistake to sit again but he did. He told himself it was because he wanted to make Jeremy see sense, but that wasn't entirely true. Sometimes he just needed to be with a guy who understood at least some of it. And he wanted to make Jeremy stay at home next Sat.u.r.day.

By the time they reached Jeremy's one room apartment Tyler had learned he had two older sisters who lived in York, both married, two kids each, and parents he didn't get on with who lived in Leeds. He wanted a dog, a miniature dachshund, but he wasn't allowed one by his landlord. He liked Chinese food, swimming and reading. Only two of those at the same time. He'd missed a lot of school because he'd had chronic fatigue syndrome. He'd been dumped five times. The first boyfriend had met someone else, the next he caught cheating, the one after disappeared with all his money and half of his clothes, the one after that said he was allergic to him and the last turned out to be married. Jeremy wanted to be a pilot, was saving up for flying school, but working at Starbucks and Harrods wasn't cutting it.

Tyler liked him. He didn't want to, but he did. Jeremy was cute and nave and not his type at all, but he still liked him. And that meant he couldn't let this go any further because he didn't want to be number six in the list of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who'd hurt him.

"Well, this is it," Jeremy said as he opened the door to his flat. "It's not much."

Tyler looked around the room. It was just like his except there was no guitar, no mold on the walls, or grimy curtains, plus Jeremy's was tidy and clean and smelled good. Actually, nothing like his.

"How many eggs?" Jeremy asked.

"Just one, thanks." Tyler ran his gaze over the bookshelves. Thrillers, horror, sci-fi. Tatty paperbacks all neatly shelved alphabetically by author. The only orderly part of Tyler was his mind where everything was neatly boxed, padlocked and chained.

His stomach rumbled as the scent of frying bacon filled the small room.

"So why do you need the money?" Jeremy asked.

"To pay back my student loans."

"Isn't the idea to do that once you're earning over a certain amount? Until then, you don't have to pay it off."

"Yeah, but I don't want it hanging around my neck. I don't like owing anything to anyone." It was a minor miracle he'd let himself be talked into applying to university, knowing he'd incur debts, but the desire to make something of his life burned strongly inside him, and he'd taken the risk. If he'd known what he'd end up doing to reduce his debt, would he still have applied to college? He couldn't answer that. Didn't want to answer that.

"When does your course finish?"

"Next summer."

"Is that how long you're going to go to Prescott's parties?"

"The moment I've earned enough, I'll stop." He wasn't going to work out how long that would take. Much too depressing.

"Prescott's okay," Jeremy said.

Tyler groaned. "No, he's not. Haven't you listened to a word I've said? The man's trouble. He's greedy, controlling and cunning, and you don't want to be his favorite. You don't want to be his anything."

Jeremy put two white plates on the countertop. "You're doing it because you need the money. Why shouldn't I? Like you said, I'll stop when I have enough."

"Right." I'm wasting my breath.

"You think you can stop but I can't?" Jeremy snapped. "That I'm weak?"

"No." Yes. You have weakness running through you like the f.u.c.king writing on a stick of rock.

"You've no right to tell me not to go back when you're not going to stop." There was no conviction in his voice.

"I know. Doesn't mean I shouldn't try."

If he'd been warned three months ago, would he have listened? Prescott had reeled him in like a greedy blowfish. He dangled a large amount of cash, hadn't asked him to go to a party every week, and he'd made him desperate for more money. In a way, he'd become obsessed with the envelopes of cash Prescott dropped in his lap and his dependency scared him.

"Thanks for worrying about me," Jeremy said quietly. "I can look after myself."

I don't think you can. Tyler opened his mouth and shut it again.

"Do the same ones go every week?" Jeremy asked. "I mean those like us."

"Why do you want to know? You don't want to make friends with them. They only care about themselves."

"You don't."

"Yeah I do. How do you know I don't want you to go back because I want your share of the money?"

"You care."

"I f.u.c.king don't."

Jeremy smiled and lifted the pan from the heat. "Like your bacon crispy?"

"Yeah."

"Want to come and make us coffee?"

Tyler joined him in the tiny kitchen and filled the kettle. Their hips b.u.mped and Tyler guessed that was the point. s.e.xual interest sparked low in his belly, coiled around his guts and squeezed. He didn't do boyfriends, didn't do involved, didn't do emotion. He knew this would be a mistake, but the look on Jeremy's face managed to reach a place inside that he usually kept secure. If he could persuade him not to go back to Prescott, would he have done his good deed in life?

"Milk? Sugar?" Tyler asked.

"Neither. Here you go." He pushed a plate of bacon, egg, half a tomato and two slices of toast across the counter. The food had been neatly arranged, unlike the mess Tyler served up. He carried his drink, plate, knife and fork to where the bed lay under the window and sat down.

"What instruments do you play?" Jeremy asked.

"Piano, guitar, sax." Tyler dipped the edge of his toast into the egg and mopped up the yolk. His mouth watered. He never managed to cook eggs with a runny yolk. They usually broke as he put them in the pan, often before he got them anywhere near the pan. He just scooped them off the floor and still used them.

"Would you play for me?"

Tyler ignored the question. "I'm serious about you not going back. It's not...healthy."

Jeremy laughed. "Christ, I know that, but I'm no different to the others."

"Yeah, you are. You're soft. You're kind. You're going to get hurt." He took a swallow of coffee. "Prescott offer you c.o.ke?"

"No."

"Well, he will and he doesn't like to take no for an answer."

"Has he given you drugs?"

"He tried. I made myself throw up after he blew c.o.ke up my nose. He hasn't bothered since. He won't accept any other sort of drug use amongst his boys. He only allows c.o.ke in moderation. There can be no risk to his clientele. He likes c.o.ke because the right dosage ramps up your s.e.x drive. Though too much kills it."

"I've never taken any illegal drug. I want to be a pilot. If I got caught..."

"A compelling reason never to go there again."

Jeremy set his empty plate aside with a deep sigh. "You know how much flight school costs? Eighty-three thousand pounds and rising. I have to pay up front. No one's going to lend it to me. I've saved fifteen so far. Most of it money my gran left me. The longer it takes to save, the more expensive the training will become."

Tyler stared at him then and saw the earnest desperation there had once been in his own face, when he'd imagined recording contracts, stardom, his music being part of people's lives. What right did he have to wreck Jeremy's dreams? Jeremy took the plate from his hand and laid it on top of his own on the floor.

"What happens on Wednesday for a thousand pounds?" Jeremy asked.

For a split second, Tyler wondered if that was what all this was about, that Jeremy wanted a chance to earn more money, but he was usually a good judge of character and this guy didn't have a deceptive bone in his body.

"He's never asked me to come any day but Sat.u.r.day. It's likely to be more of the same." Though at double the pay, what did he want? "He's probably catering for someone else's event. Or maybe it's something happening at his place."

"I thought that was his place."

"He doesn't live there."

Jeremy frowned. "Where does he live?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know. But he wouldn't c.r.a.p on his own doorstep. He might have even made it up to make you jealous. He likes playing games, setting us off against each other."

Jeremy gently laid his hand on Tyler's thigh and waited. To see if I'm going to kiss him or thump him? Tyler looked into his eyes and Jeremy's uncertainty undid him. When fingers slowly slid to his zipper, he sucked in a breath. Pointless denying his interest when his c.o.c.k clearly strained to get free.

"Has he ever forced you to do something for one of his guests?" Jeremy asked.

"Not exactly, but that doesn't mean he listens if you say no. Though there's stuff I won't do no matter how much money he offers."

"Like what?"

"No f.u.c.king without a condom. Fisting. Anything stuck down my d.i.c.k. Having two c.o.c.ks in my a.s.s. Scat play. Watersports."

Jeremy shuddered, as he'd hoped. Prescott's parties were mostly on the light side of kinky, but it didn't hurt to have Jeremy think otherwise.

"If I say no too often, he'll just tell me to f.u.c.k off. There's plenty of us out there." He looked straight into Jeremy's face. "Don't go back."

"He never uses kids, does he?"

"Kids? Christ. Not that I've seen, but then I thought you were a kid." He snorted. "No way are you twenty-four."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"I'm seventeen. You're an old man. s.h.i.t." Jeremy took his hand off his c.o.c.k.

Tyler growled. Jeremy laughed and put his hand back. But seventeen? Oh G.o.d.

Jeremy pushed open the b.u.t.ton on Tyler's jeans and eased the zipper over his aching c.o.c.k. Tyler's ability to stop him was slithering down the drain.

He sucked in a breath and looked straight into Jeremy's eyes. "You do know there are cameras everywhere in that apartment? Probably recording. You want to suddenly see your face on some dodgy website?" He groaned as Jeremy slipped his hand inside his boxers and grasped his d.i.c.k.

"I can always dye my hair."

"That's not..." One roll of Jeremy's thumb over the head of Tyler's c.o.c.k and he forgot why this wasn't a good idea.

In a flurry of b.u.t.tons and zippers, and colliding arms and legs, they stripped each other of their clothes, tussling and mock-wrestling until they lay panting on the bed. Jeremy was a lot stronger than he looked and that turned up Tyler's heat another notch.

"You're gorgeous," Jeremy whispered.

"You're not bad yourself."

Jeremy chewed his lip. "I wish I hadn't met you there. I wish-"

Tyler shut him up with a kiss. Wishing got you nowhere. Another of life's lessons he'd learned early on. They writhed together with lips locked, two hard c.o.c.ks slipping and sliding against skin and against the bed cover, and the friction ratcheted up the desire another couple of notches. Tyler pushed his hand between their bodies, wrapped his fingers around both of their d.i.c.ks and Jeremy groaned against his throat.