Tarot's Touch

by L. M. Somerton

  “A small mercy. At least he didn’t feel the killing blow.”

  Alex scanned over the detailed medical terminology. “Pre-meditated then. Started off calm then lost control.” He muttered the words as he kept reading, his brain running through endless scenarios and possibilities. Abruptly he shoved his chair back, dropped the report on his desk and headed downstairs.

  When he got to the main office, he pulled Higgs and Conor to one side.

  “I want you to take another look at the guest list for the opening of Leather and Lace. I want to know everything there is to know about the people on that list. I want all their alibis for the night of the fire rechecked and I want to know where they all were when the murder took place. The only reason I can think of for Conor’s name being on that envelope is his association with the fire investigation.”

  “He did do most of the interviews,” Higgs said, looking thoughtful. “What’s on your mind, boss?”

  “You mean apart from the two of you conspiring to keep things from me?”

  Alex glared at Conor as he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. At least Higgs had the grace to cringe.

  “I give up,” he said with a pained sigh. “Scotland was interesting. Amanda Teller was not too upset by her ex-husband’s death. She’d already taken him to the cleaners in the divorce settlement and wanted no more to do with him. It was clearly an acrimonious break-up but she seemed most angry about the fact that he had left her for another man—almost as if had he dumped her for another woman it wouldn’t have been an issue. She said some pretty vitriolic things about gay men in general and I think it ran deeper than just her personal experience—probably the way she’d been brought up or the influence of her family and friends. She had cast-iron alibis for the fire and the time of the murder. Multiple witnesses to where she was on both dates—a few too many, in fact. Two large social occasions on those specific dates seems a little too convenient to me. She didn’t commit the crimes herself but I have a nagging suspicion that she knows something.”

  Higgs frowned. “Well your gut instinct is usually pretty sound, boss. We can check into her background and connections as well. See if there’s any overlap.”

  “Good. Get on with it. Conor doesn’t go out of this building unless there’s someone else with him.”

  For a moment it looked like Conor would protest. Alex raised one eyebrow a fraction, daring Conor to challenge him. Conor’s slightly parted lips compressed into a tight line.

  “Good decision. You’re in enough trouble.”

  Higgs sniggered.

  As Conor escaped back to his desk, Alex hoped that he was the only person to spot the bulge in his boyfriend’s trousers. He smirked. It would do the misbehaving brat good to sit and suffer for a while.

  Conor shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. Alex’s stern looks and implied promise of retribution left him hard and aching. That smirk on his lover’s face didn’t help either. He sighed and got back to work.

  He had a long, slow day ahead of him. Conor had a set of fifty people from the guest list that he had to get in touch with, most of whom were proving to be remarkably elusive. He left message after message, then had to juggle more outbound calls with a constantly ringing phone. The call waiting light flashed continuously. The whole process was an exercise in frustration and would have driven Alex to distraction, but Conor was calmer. He rarely let work get to him in that way. The monotony of routine detective work could be therapeutic.

  By six o’clock he had managed to get twenty witness interviews set up for the next day—all the people involved were coming into the station. The next two days after that, he would be going out to see those whose work and family commitments made it difficult to travel in. Eric and Pete had offered to spend some time double-checking the alibis that they already had on record and would then process any new ones for the time of the murder. Conor was grateful for their help. He knew they were both already busy. There always seemed to be too much to do and he got more than his fair share of drudge work. He looked forward to the day that they took on a new recruit and he would no longer be the newest member of the unit.

  It felt like they had new direction as a team and the atmosphere at the evening wash-up was optimistic as they gave their reports.

  “So, everyone knows what they need to do tomorrow. I have a good feeling about this. We’re making progress,” Alex said.

  “I don’t mind staying on a bit,” Pete chimed in, and Eric nodded his agreement.

  “Come on, guys. It’s time you went home. Your enthusiasm is admirable but you know as well as I do that getting proper rest is important or your productivity tomorrow will be a bunch of crap. A twelve-hour shift is long enough. I don’t want fatigue causing mistakes or complacency.”

  Higgs nodded his agreement. “The boss is right. Let’s get out of here. I’m sure your assorted wives and kids will be happy to see your ugly mugs around the dinner table for once.”

  There was a bit of mumbling and grumbling, but they all started gathering their coats. Alex shook his head. “Anyone would think you actually got paid for overtime.”

  That comment got a range of snorts and sarcastic retorts in return.

  “That’s more like the team I know and love.” He turned to Conor. “I’ll get my stuff from upstairs and meet you at the car.”

  Conor jangled the keys. “You want to drive?”

  Alex shook his head. “No, I like the idea of chauffeur service this evening. It’s been a long day.”

  * * * *

  The drive home was quiet. That wasn’t unusual—it was a time to wind down after a day filled with too much unpleasant information. Alex was only too aware of how easy it was to let work affect their home lives, especially with him and Conor being in the same job. He looked across to his lover who was driving with more concentration than was strictly necessary. The flicker of a smile crossed Alex’s lips. Conor was nervous and so he should be. Deliberate disobedience couldn’t go unpunished, even if it was excusable. After a whole day of calming down, Alex had gotten used to the idea Conor had been protecting him but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “It will be nice to have a quiet evening at home together, won’t it?” Alex was pleased at how innocent he managed to sound.

  “Define ‘quiet’.” Conor kept his eyes on the road. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re talking about parking on the sofa in front of a film.”

  Alex chuckled and didn’t answer straight away. He let the silence stretch out a little. Conor’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles went white.

  “I’ve had a very long day. I may be too tired for anything else.”

  “You’re never too tired for anything else.” Alex glanced at Conor’s lap and wasn’t disappointed. Even in his innocuous work trousers, the evidence of his erection was there, plain to see.

  Conor turned the car into their road, and Alex decided it was safe enough to touch. He stroked Conor’s thigh gently, letting his fingers wander close to the bulge at Conor’s groin.

  “True. I’m pleased that the anticipation is…exciting you.”

  The car swerved into the middle of the quiet road.

  “Fuck, Alex! Stop that!”

  Conor managed to park the car without hitting anything. At the front door, Alex pressed close, crowding him, letting their bodies touch. Conor froze, one hand braced on the door.

  “You seem to be having a little trouble with your coordination, love. Here. Let me.” Alex used his keys and hustled Conor into the hall.

  Inside, the house was cool and quiet. Alex immediately relaxed, mentally and physically. As soon as the door had closed, he turned and trapped Conor against it. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from Conor’s eyes and drank in every detail of his face. Emerald glittered from beneath thick, sooty lashes as Conor blinked at him. Alex melded their bodies together, holding Conor close.

  “Am I forgiven yet?” The brush of warm lips on Alex’s neck accom
panied the softly spoken words.

  Alex’s cock responded with enthusiasm and he moaned as Conor nibbled, then licked his earlobe. “There’s nothing to forgive. You were right.”

  Conor’s body went instantly stiff. “Fuck, Alex, did you just admit to being wrong about something?”

  Alex responded with a kiss that left Conor gasping for air. “You need your hearing tested. I said you were right. I didn’t say anything about me being wrong. That’s a completely different concept.” He stroked Conor’s cheek. “I wouldn’t want you under the misapprehension that I was turning into a wuss.”

  Alex let his touch roam across Conor’s chest. Through the thin cotton of his shirt he could feel how hard Conor’s nipples were. He flicked one of the stiff buds then pinched it. Conor moaned and squirmed.

  “And just to make sure you don’t think I’ve gone soft, I want you to go upstairs and prepare yourself for me. Wear something I’ll like.”

  Conor’s shy smile almost drove Alex to take him there and then, up against the door. In his mind, he twisted Conor around, tore his trousers down then slammed into him. He could hear the sweet whimpers—feel the pressure of firm flesh as Conor thrust back. He groaned.

  “You need to go…now.”

  Conor ducked under his arm with a laugh then ran for the stairs. Seconds later, Alex heard the shower running. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass in the front door and took a few steadying breaths. His cock was rock hard, his balls painfully tight. He forced images of Conor, naked in the shower, out of his head. Instead, he limped into the kitchen and distracted himself with mundane household chores until he heard the click of the bathroom door from upstairs. Alex didn’t dare see Conor until he had showered as well and had his rebellious dick under control. He didn’t want the evening to be over too quickly and that meant exercising a little self-denial.

  As soon as he judged it was safe, Alex went upstairs and used the bathroom. Freshly showered and shaved, he then went to the spare bedroom to get dressed. He kept some of his clothing there—things that he didn’t often wear. It felt like a special evening and that demanded a special outfit. He pulled on dark brown leather trousers that molded to his body and displayed the ridge of his now semi-hard cock to perfection. Next he buckled on thick-soled boots, designed to look intimidating. He picked out a shirt of chocolate brown silk, leaving it unbuttoned and loose. Alex smiled at the thought of Conor’s reaction when he saw him. He wondered what Conor had chosen to wear and licked his lips in anticipation. Conor knew what he liked—it was just a question of how brave his lover was feeling.

  Alex strolled across the landing and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the dim light made by a few flickering candles, and he had to stop himself from drooling all over the carpet. Conor knelt in front of him, head bowed, hair falling over his eyes. He was shirtless, clothed only in a pair of shiny, black PVC trousers that were pulled tight across his thighs. His knees were widely parted and his bare feet crossed at the ankles behind him. The pose was one of absolute submission and it made Alex’s cock ache for release. Conor’s hands were resting on his thighs and heavy, black leather cuffs were buckled tightly around his slim wrists. On the carpet in front of him, placed like an offering, were a set of vicious nipple clamps, joined by a sturdy chain and a thick leather collar.

  Alex had to look away for a while in order to get his body under control. He didn’t want to come until he was buried in Conor’s beautiful arse, preferably when he was tied down and helpless. He cursed his own thoughts silently—they weren’t helping his self-control at all. He stared hard at Conor’s bent head and allowed his hand to stray forward and stroke the glossy, dark hair.

  “That you trust me like this means so much, my love.”

  Then Conor released his fly. Alex’s aching cock sprang free and was immediately surrounded by wet warmth and gentle suction. Every muscle in Alex’s body tensed. He wrapped his hands in Conor’s hair, holding him in place. All his willpower dissolved and he thrust into Conor’s welcoming mouth. It was too much, too soon, but he couldn’t stop and it was just a few, scant seconds before his seed spurted into Conor’s throat.

  Alex loosened his grip on Conor’s hair and allowed his dick to slip free. He looked down into green eyes filled with mischief and scowled.

  “I don’t think I gave you permission to do that.”

  Conor attempted to look innocent and almost pulled it off. “I’m sorry, Sir. You look so delicious in those trousers. I couldn’t wait…and I didn’t think you could either.”

  Alex gave him a light cuff. “As you were. I’m not done with you yet.”

  Conor ducked his head again, just the hint of a smile turning the corners of his lips.

  Once his thighs had stopped trembling, Alex leaned down and picked up the collar. He circled his lover, stroking Conor’s neck, gentling him, before sliding the heavy leather around it and fastening the buckle.

  “Fuck, you look stunning.” He could already feel the heat building in his cock. “Stand up. Hands behind your back.”

  Head still bowed, Conor got to his feet. Alex planted soft kisses on his shoulder and stroked his back. Then he rasped his tongue across tender nipples and Conor jerked away with a gasp.

  “Keep fucking still. I didn’t say you could move.”

  Alex kissed and nibbled one sweet, pink nub then the other, teasing them into hard peaks. He grabbed the chain from the floor and squeezed open the first clamp. With his other hand he found the bulge at Conor’s groin and began a deft massage.

  “Look at me.”

  Conor didn’t flinch as the clamp sprang closed on his nipple. He moaned, the sound a seductive mix of pleasure and pain.

  “Come before I say you can, and I’ll take a cane to your arse.”

  Conor’s eyes widened but he didn’t protest. The second clamp pinched shut and he shuddered. Alex continued to massage his balls with one hand and tug on the chain joining the clamps with the other.

  “Alex, please…”

  Alex ignored the plea and continued the torture. He knew that Conor was seconds away from coming, but that was something he would not allow to happen. He stepped back and fondled himself instead, stroking his sensitive flesh until his flaccid dick perked back into life. Conor followed every movement. His face was flushed, his breathing fast and shallow.

  “Please, Sir. I have to come!”

  “No.” Alex continued to stroke himself, holding Conor’s rapt attention. He was soon fully erect again, cock jutting proudly forward. He adjusted his leathers, giving silent thanks for the button fly that allowed him to stay exposed without risk of a zip attack on his most delicate parts.

  “Strip.”

  As Conor was only wearing trousers, following Alex’s order didn’t take him long. He wriggled out of the skin-tight PVC and stood steady, clad only in a black, leather collar and cuffs. His cheeks were flushed with what Alex hoped was excitement rather than embarrassment. Alex was still dressed, even if he did present something of a lewd picture with his cock sticking out of his leathers. He loved the feeling of power that Conor’s vulnerability gave him.

  “You look good in leather, Sir. You should wear it more often.” Conor’s voice was soft and a little hesitant, as if he were uncertain as to whether speaking uninvited was permitted.

  “Thank you, love. You look better. If I had my way, I’d keep you clamped and collared all the time. Clothes are overrated.” Alex admired the lean lines of Conor’s body and wondered how he managed to look so graceful, even when he was standing still. He pulled a leather cock ring from his pocket and fingered it, letting Conor see it, then he took a step forward, lifted Conor’s dick and fastened the ring tightly around its base. It was tempting to keep his hands wrapped around the heat of Conor’s erection but he had other plans.

  “Lie down on the bed, on your back. Spread yourself for me.”

  Conor crawled onto the bed, giving Alex a perfect—if momentary—view of his arse.
He flipped over and positioned himself, reaching for the corner posts with his arms and widening his legs slowly.

  “Wider.”

  Conor’s legs inched farther apart.

  “You find it hard to display yourself for me, don’t you? You’re blushing beautifully.” Alex didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one.

  “How does it feel to have leather gripping your neck? Are your nipples throbbing under the pressure of those clamps?” Alex tweaked the chain that linked Conor’s swollen buds and was rewarded with a gasp. He trailed his fingers the length of Conor’s body, avoiding his iron cock, even though Conor jerked his hips hopefully.

  Alex fetched four short lengths of rope. He threaded each piece through the metal rings on Conor’s cuffs and secured his wrists and ankles to the bedposts.

  “Alex, please…” Conor squirmed and tugged on his bonds.

  “Hush, my love. Trust me. You have a safe word and there’s no shame in using it.”

  Conor relaxed in his bonds, becoming still and calm.

  “You know I would never hurt you.” Alex tested the ties and ran his finger beneath each cuff, checking that they weren’t too tight. When he was satisfied that the bondage would have no detrimental effect on Conor’s circulation, he took a step back, looked at the picture he had created and sighed.

  Conor—naked and beautiful—was spread for Alex’s pleasure. His eyes were wide open, inviting, even as his body trembled. Alex reached out and slid a hand around one bound ankle, and that slight touch was enough to elicit a whimper.

  “You are stunning. The things I want to do to you…”

  “Please stop talking and start doing, Sir.”

  “Bossy brat. Haven’t you heard that patience is a virtue?”

  Alex climbed onto the bed and knelt between Conor’s legs. He leaned forward to cup Conor’s balls and massaged their weight.

  “Sir! Please… I need… I have to… I can’t…”

  “You’re not making a lot of sense, sweetheart.”