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 f.u.c.king 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 c.o.c.k 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 c.o.c.k pushed insistently against his zipper. Thank G.o.d 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 d.i.c.k. Don't suppose...you've got a bottle of oil or...?"

"No."

Tyler sighed and wrapped his hand around the base of his c.o.c.k.

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 c.o.c.k made Haris's mouth water. He thought about what they'd feel like under his tongue, imagined suctioning those firm b.a.l.l.s into his mouth and-Stop f.u.c.king 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 c.o.c.k. Hopefully, it would be absorbed by his boxers. He didn't want Wilson speculating on a stain in his crotch.

"Pa.s.s my pants, would you?"

Their fingers touched as Haris handed them over and the dam inside him broke to let l.u.s.t 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, f.u.c.k, 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 f.u.c.k am I playing at?

"Sorry," Tyler mumbled. "Didn't mean anything. Just wanted to thank you."

"No," Haris blurted.

"No what? No-f.u.c.k 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 c.o.c.k 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 h.e.l.l of a lot richer than him. Tyler didn't care about the money but a sw.a.n.ky car with a chauffeur? His coat was expensive and so was the Rolex on his wrist, a.s.suming 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 gla.s.s 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 f.u.c.k 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.

f.u.c.k 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 w.a.n.ker 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 f.u.c.king clamps biting into your tackle? Having a ball gag strapped to your head? Not being able to give a safe word? It was f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.ked off. I hung there in the dark with the b.l.o.o.d.y alarm blaring and thought I was going to die."

Jeremy gasped.

"Then how the h.e.l.l 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 s.p.a.ce. "Lu is a f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.king 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.

OhG.o.dohG.o.dohG.o.dohG.o.d. 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.

f.u.c.king 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 f.u.c.k. 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.

That terrible morning, when the gag had been taken from the mouth of a seven year old, it had been too late. Everything dear to him had gone. No more gentle arms to cradle him when he was hurt. No more stories snuggled next to his mum in bed. No scent of her. No making her laugh so hard she cried. No photo. Nothing. It was as though she'd never existed, as though he'd never been part of a family. He'd lost everything that night, including himself. He'd have done anything it took to make things right, but there was no way back.

Tyler's head swam. He made himself inhale and exhale against his arm until his breathing slowed and gradually he pushed his fear back into its cage. Then he curled up even tighter.

He'd told himself he wouldn't go back to Prescott, the ball gag was the last straw, but he was already rethinking that. Though there'd be conditions. No more bondage of any sort. Just s.e.x. The money currently sitting in his pocket made turning away very difficult because whatever else happened in his life, one aim shone like a beacon. Tyler was determined he would not be like his father. No family should ever have to go through that.

He thought again about Haris, how he'd looked into his eyes and understood. No one else had seen his distress. Even if they had, they hadn't been prepared to help. Not even Jeremy. Haris had saved him and he didn't even know him. Christ. I wanted to f.u.c.k him in his car, or him to f.u.c.k me, I didn't care.

Then again, was he even thinking straight? Maybe he didn't want Haris at all and it was simply grat.i.tude that fired up his libido. Didn't matter. The moment was gone, finished, over. He'd screwed up by being impulsive and scared the guy off. He felt embarra.s.sed thinking about it. At least he'd never have to see him again.

So why did that leave him with an empty feeling in his gut?

Haris lay in bed rethinking Wilson's description of what he'd seen and heard in the warehouse and told himself to let this go. Tyler was a mess and Haris didn't need that sort of complication in his life. Not again.

But I want him.

He rolled over and scrunched up the pillow under his head. He needed to stick to the plan he'd settled on after Karl; when the need for s.e.x grew too much-find a guy, rent a hotel room and f.u.c.k the malaise out of his system.

Except he hadn't. Not for four months because his so-called plan hadn't cured the depression in his soul.

Haris shook when he thought of Karl, the last man he'd been involved with, and how it had been so right and then so wrong. He'd promised himself then, he'd never let anyone get that close again, never fall in love.

He rolled the other way and watched the digital display of his alarm ticking seconds off he'd never get back. This is the life we're given. One life. One opportunity to be happy, to make others happy, and I'm letting it slip through my fingers because I'm afraid. He released a strangled laugh. He was successful in a business where risk was everything and yet he couldn't extend that to his private life?

Forget Tyler.

Not a good idea to be with someone who took such chances with his life, no matter what the reward. A thousand pounds to be tied up and gagged? The ticket price suggested more had been required of Tyler than that. The guy had been willing to have the ball gag strapped to his mouth even though it freaked him out. Yet Haris understood the taste of desperation. Who was he to criticize Tyler for taking that risk?

Forget him.

It wasn't that easy. His c.o.c.k tented his shorts and the ache in his b.a.l.l.s had reached painful proportions. Haris slid his hand down and freed his erection, taking it firmly in his grasp. Not difficult to imagine Tyler's long fingers wrapped around him, pumping his c.o.c.k. A rush of pleasure slid along his veins as he began to stroke himself.

A single thought about the beauty of Tyler's d.i.c.k, and pre-come soaked his fingers. Haris kicked off the bed cover and worked his c.o.c.k with both hands. He bit his lip as his breathing hitched. In his mind, he had Tyler's mouth around him, Tyler's a.s.s to bury himself in, Tyler's moans filling his ears. Haris bent his knees, spread his legs and pressed his heels into the bed as he jerked himself off, lifting his hips in the same rhythm as if he were thrusting into Tyler.