s.h.i.t. Am I that easy to read now?

"I wanted to do this." Haris ran his finger across Tyler's mouth. "I don't care that you can't do it back. When you're a famous rock star, I'll expect the latest Rolex and to be flown to Paris for the weekend."

Tyler smiled.

"There's one more present." Haris reached behind him and pulled out a flat rectangle.

Tyler sat up and took it. It felt like a picture frame. He ripped it open, a.s.suming it would be one of him or him and Haris, but the breath froze in his lungs as he looked at the photographs. Four in a line. His brother, his sister, his mother and then him. Tears sprang into his eyes. "How?" he choked out.

"I contacted your school to get the photos of your brother and sister and you. The one of your mother I had from the newspaper."

"I can't... It's... Thank you," Tyler whispered.

"You're welcome."

Tears welled as he looked at his family and he swallowed hard.

"Think we deserve some champagne?" Haris asked. "Bucks Fizz, at least."

"Bucks Fizz sounds good. We can use that bottle of Cristal. I'll go and open it."

Tyler fled laughing as Haris raced after him. "Touch that bottle and I'll shave off your eyebrows when you're asleep."

The day was almost perfect, Tyler thought. He wished Haris hadn't bought the watch. How would he ever dare wear it? It had to have cost thousands. That was the problem. Plus the skiing and the trip to New York. Tyler felt as if he was being bought all over again. Haris had already bought him for four months and while Tyler wouldn't take the money now even if it had been offered, he still wanted to give back the twenty thousand Haris had paid at auction, plus the ten he'd put in his bank account. The rock star dream was exactly that, a fantasy. The reality was it would take Tyler a lifetime working some crummy job to repay the money.

What he'd secretly hoped for this Christmas was the contract ripped in half. But that hadn't happened. He'd also hoped for the words 'I love you' wrapped in a parcel. But that hadn't happened either.

He'd wait until the contract was up. But what would he do if the words never came?

Later that afternoon, Haris lay slouched on the sofa next to Tyler who was fast asleep. He suspected Wilson was asleep downstairs. He'd produced a fantastic Christmas dinner and they'd all eaten too much, including Alcide who'd been fed bits of turkey under the table by all three of them. Tyler had insisted Wilson join them for the meal, and Haris felt bad about the times he'd disappeared with his plate into the living room without even thinking what Wilson might be doing.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. When he saw who was calling, his heart dropped into his stomach. Haris extricated himself from Tyler's legs and took the phone into his study.

"h.e.l.lo," he said. "As-salam 'alayk.u.m."

"Wa'alayk.u.m as-salam," said his brother, Adil.

Please don't tell me father is dead. Not today.

"Do you have Skype?" Adil asked.

"Yes. Under Haris Evans."

"I'll send you an invite to connect. Call me." He cut the connection.

Haris opened his laptop and waited for it to come out of its dormant state. His call was answered almost immediately and then his father's face filled the screen.

"Happy Christmas, Haris."

"You don't celebrate Christmas," Haris blurted.

"No, but when your mother was alive we did, and I saw your tree."

"How are you?"

"I have good days and bad days. This is a good day, especially since I've seen you."

"How..." Haris's voice trailed off.

"Your brothers are in the other room. They'll talk to you in a moment. Tell me what you've done today."

Haris saw his father's pleasure in hearing about the silly gifts they'd bought and he found himself telling him about the watch.

"I think I made a mistake. It was too expensive."

"But the pleasure is also in giving. I hope you made it clear you didn't expect the gift to be reciprocated."

"Of course." But he hadn't, had he? He'd made some joke about Tyler buying him a Rolex when he was a rock star.

When his father grew tired, Malik took his place.

"Can you talk freely?" Haris asked.

"They're in the other room so you can say what you like."

"If you'd wanted me dead, you should have done it yourself."

Malik gave a short laugh. "You're right, of course. You're always right, even though you've not even been here for half of my life. Imagine living with 'Your brother wouldn't have done that. Your brother would have seen that coming.' I thought you wouldn't see Rashid coming. This business is mine. I built it up. I won't-"

"Shut the f.u.c.k up, Malik. I'm a multimillionaire. I don't need more money. I have more than I can spend. But let father have this. The belief that he pa.s.ses his hard work to all his sons. Treat him with respect in his last days. Be there for him. Be there because I can't be."

Malik exhaled. "I'm sorry."

"So you said. Words are cheap. I wish I could believe you, but you tried to kill me and someone dear to me, and Tyler's friend might easily have died. The police in the UK are not looking for you. They don't know your name, not from me, nor from Tyler. But you cost a man his life, just as I cost him his freedom. I can only imagine what it was like to spend so long in a Saudi jail. If I'd been more careful to give you the slip that day, none of this would have happened."

"I worshipped you."

"I know you did," Haris said gently. "But I am what I am. Let this be over between us."

"Adil wants to talk to you."

Haris chewed his lip. He could never trust Malik, but then he'd thought that since the day he understood what the word trust truly meant. If his brother could betray him, he could trust no one.

"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 b.l.o.w.j.o.b?"

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 c.o.c.k 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 c.o.c.k, 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 G.o.d, oh G.o.d," 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 b.u.t.tons 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 c.o.c.k. A cry burst from Haris's mouth and his b.u.t.tocks clenched on the seat. That feels so good.

He drowned in l.u.s.t, 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 c.o.c.k inside his cheek. His b.a.l.l.s 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 f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k.

Tyler swallowed him. How the h.e.l.l could he get so much in his mouth? He flinched as Tyler's chin hit his b.a.l.l.s 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 b.l.o.w.j.o.b of all b.l.o.w.j.o.bs. 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 s.h.i.t.

Haris's c.o.c.k jolted once, his b.a.l.l.s 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 pa.s.sed, 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 cla.s.s, 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 b.u.t.ton 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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 a.r.s.e? 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 f.u.c.king do it."

"Haris-"

"I'm f.u.c.king paying you to do what I want, when I want. Lean over the f.u.c.king desk."

Tyler blinked, pushed open the b.u.t.ton 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 f.u.c.k up," Haris snapped.

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