Open Sesame

by Mia Watts

  “I said he was out of here. I didn’t say how.” Cain motioned that they should leave. Jeret strutted out of the room, tucking the gun at his spine. Reed followed, shooting glances over his shoulder.

  “When I agreed to help you in getting our company back, you never mentioned murder.” Oz faced off with his older brother. “You never mentioned ransom, either.”

  “If I had, would you have been on board?” Cain asked.

  “No,” Oz said colorlessly.

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m not letting you kill him to get at his uncle.” Oz slid his hands casually into his pants pockets. He cocked his head to one side.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Cain snapped. A buzzer sounded from somewhere in the apartment. Cain’s name carried to them. He rolled his eyes and sighed sharply. He pulled several more zip-ties from his pocket and tossed them on the coffee table. “Tie him up somewhere and get information out of him.” Cain smirked at Alister. “Have fun.”

  The door slammed behind him.

  “Have fun?” Alister asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  He struggled to his feet. Oz dropped a hand on his shoulder and shoved him down. “I may not have a gun or condone murder for greed, but you won’t find succor here.”

  Oz was tempted to explore the contours of Alister’s shoulder beneath his fingertips. Strong, warm, and thick with muscle, it was clear Alister cared for his fitness, and Oz truly wanted to care for it, too. The errant thought brought a smile to his lips. So did the four-poster bed in the guest suite they were occupying.

  Alister was tall, but stretched out, could Oz bind him to the four corners? He glanced at the man. Oh yes. No problem there. But not zip-ties. Something softer, so that when Alister came, he wouldn’t get cuts on his wrists.

  Because if Alister Baban was straight, Oz had every intention of seducing the gay into him.

  Alister watched Oz as he strolled around collecting things.

  “My brother keeps this room stocked in case we spontaneously have guests.” He held up silk ties. “Considering you are to be kept tied indefinitely, I assume you’d prefer silk to unforgiving plastic?”

  Alister nodded. If Oz had any idea how turned on Alister was at the prospect of the other man tying him up and extracting information from him, he didn’t show it. Oz’s classic features hinted at mischief that could have easily been interpreted as taking pleasure in binding Alister for torture. Right now, libido demanded Oz’s hands on him in any method possible. Unfortunately, libido had taken the share majority over rational thought.

  Stupid cock.

  Oz stayed within range of him. Not once had he turned his back so that Alister was out of his sight, yet his movements were fluid and not contrived. And not once had the man given him a clear view of groin to gauge Oz’s sexual compass.

  Silently, Alister berated himself. Four guys had abducted him at gunpoint, bound him, were sending a ransom note, and if Cain had his way, would dump his body somewhere. Sex-on-a-stick over there had been relegated to obtaining information by whatever means, it seemed. So why couldn’t he get past the idea that Oz had something erotic in mind for his methodology, and why didn’t Alister’s body recognize the overall threat to its well-being?

  Because Oz, for all his strength, grace, and dark good looks, didn’t threaten him.

  Cain looked like a man of action who, once set in a direction, couldn’t be swayed. Jeret was an insecure bully who’d do what Cain told him. Reed seemed about as terrified of getting in trouble with the law as getting in trouble with one of his brothers.

  But Oz moved in his own circle. He didn’t defer to Cain, overlooked Jeret as inconsequential, and smiled fondly at Reed. He was one of them, but separate. Alister thought Oz made his own decisions, and it had been clear Oz had no intention of letting Cain murder Alister.

  The abduction? Why had Oz gone along with it if he hadn’t wanted to take Alister? What, in Oz’s mind, had made it an acceptable risk? Alister continued to watch Oz as he gathered the last of the items and laid them on the large bed.

  “I’d let you go to the bathroom alone, but you seem like a resourceful man and you might try to escape,” Oz said quietly. He moved to stand behind Alister. “Still, I recommend you go before I secure you to this bed.” Sliding his hands under Alister’s arms, Oz helped him to his feet.

  “How do you propose I do that with my hands behind my back?”

  “It won’t be a problem in a minute,” Oz told him cryptically.

  Oz dragged Alister around the chair. His mouth nearly watered. Stripping Alister Baban down to the skin had been on his mind since he’d laid eyes on him. The serious-faced businessman needed to loosen up, and Oz was the man to do it.

  Alister’s stockier build with wider bones and shorter stature spoke of a hardy heritage. The top of his head just passed the tip of Oz’s nose. Oz worked out and had the physique to prove it. What Alister Baban had was the solid, unrelenting musculature of a laborer. Yet the report from Cain, and the profile piece, indicated Alister spent his time behind a desk, not building them.

  Oz reached into his pocket, pulling out a pocketknife. Alister eyed him warily but didn’t flinch. Oz suspected the other man would rather bite his tongue off than show fear or lack of composure. It was going to make the conquest so much sweeter.

  “Stay still,” Oz said when Alister prepared to turn and present his bound wrists.

  The frown his captive wore deepened. “From our discussion on going to the bathroom to a knife, I’m not sure where you’re taking this.”

  Oz applied the tip of the two-inch blade beneath Alister’s top shirt button. It popped off, easily. “You’ll keep your appendages, but your clothes are unnecessary. If you did manage to get free, I want to be certain others will remember which way you went.”

  “Because a naked man, running, would be remembered,” Alister said. Three more buttons followed the first.

  “You understand.” Oz pushed Alister’s shirt off his shoulders to his bound wrists. He’d take care of the scraps later. Now he had a snug white undershirt to slice through on his quest for the two intriguing, tight buds pushing at the fabric.

  He took more time than he needed slicing through the thin cotton. The revelation of firmly packed chest with black curls generously sprinkled across the pecks and tapering to a “v” above his bellybutton became even more fascinating when the knife continued to descend. Alister sucked in sharply, hollowing his gut when the tip slid past.

  Alister’s belt sagged, revealing the gray waistband of underwear. “Think you could keep that knife away from my dick?”

  Oz’s head jerked up to meet Alister’s strained, steady gaze. “Is that what you believe I’d do?”

  “I don’t know you. What the hell else am I going to think when you have a knife an inch from my cock head?”

  He’d been keeping his eyes off Alister’s cock to prolong the suspense, but he nearly lost his resolve. He pushed the undershirt from Alister’s shoulders, appreciating the honeyed cast to his natural color and the healthy glow of polished male skin.

  “You’re enjoying this,” Alister said, his cool blue eyes assessing Oz.

  A smile lifted Oz’s lips, unchecked. No use denying it. If Alister looked down, he’d see more than substantial proof of Oz’s enjoyment. Oz leaned in, pleased when Alister’s eyes widened slightly, when his pupils expanded to darken the pale blue irises, and still Alister didn’t step away.

  Even if Alister didn’t bat for his team, Oz was pretty sure he could make the stolid man beg like a gay slut to be allowed to come. He was counting on it.

  Oz stroked the dull top fuller of the blade against Alister’s bottom lip, a lip Oz hoped to taste soon. “I’m enjoying this a great deal,” he agreed.

  Chapter Three

  Alister suppressed the urge to swallow. Or weep with joy. Or close the distance and kiss the man whose primary method of information retrieval seemed to be seduction. All definite displays of wea
kness on Alister’s part. Knowing what technique Oz would use to get information meant Alister knew which ways to counteract them.

  Fuck if he wanted to counteract them, but abduction wasn’t misdemeanor stuff, and Oz had participated. Which meant Oz and the other Adamos would break the law to get whatever they thought Alister had.

  “Can you move the knife?” Alister asked calmly.

  It wasn’t common knowledge that Alister was gay. Either the Adamos had amazing investigative measures, or Oz was also gay—and interested. Alister listened for any clue that would give the man away. Did Oz’s breath catch? Did his eyes linger on Alister’s mouth?

  Cool metal slipped from his lip. A guarded curiosity entered the mahogany depths of Oz’s eyes. Good, Oz didn’t know what to make of him. Keep him guessing. The knife flipped closed and must have been returned to its owner’s pocket.

  His abduction irritated Alister’s stubbornness like a burr. He was fairly certain Oz wouldn’t kill him or let him be killed. Call it gut instinct. His safety secured, Alister could see just how far Oscar Adamo would go.

  Hopefully, down. On Alister. Several times.

  Fuck. Alister was shit for brains with the man standing this close. All he could think about was hot sex. Why wouldn’t Oz look away? Play for dominance?

  The sudden tug and release on Alister’s pants dragged his attention reluctantly from his abductor’s expression and dropped it on the immediate reality of the hard-on Oz wasn’t likely to miss. Alister’s pants hit the ground.

  Oz’s gaze flicked to Alister’s neck. He felt the heat of his own blush. The elastic band of his underwear stretched outward, and Oz smoothed his long fingers and warm palms over Alister’s hips beneath the cotton.

  Alister nearly groaned.

  Oz changed his grip and the short quick tug following should have caused Alister’s drawers to drop like his pants had. Except they didn’t, because they were hung up on his straining cock. Oz tugged again. Sudden understanding dawned like sunrise over his handsome features as a chuckle-become-laugh parted his lips and filled the room.

  “Alister Baban, is there anything you would care to disclose?” Oz asked, still chuckling.

  “Knives turn me on,” he said, hearing the roughness in his own voice.

  Oz jerked the underwear off and had Alister step out of the fallen clothing and his shoes. “You’re a man of control. I would think nakedness and bondage makes you cringe. Yet here you are.”

  “How about that pee you promised?”

  Alister didn’t wait for an escort, he trudged his way to the open door of the bathroom, trying to think of anything that would make his dick soften so he could take a leak. By the time he reached the toilet, he had a new problem. The lid was down. No way in hell he was going to ask Oz for help.

  Irritation softened him further. Noting the bidet, Alister changed positions to straddle the bowl. Shaking off wasn’t an option and jigging in front of Oz didn’t appeal to him either. So Alister stood stock still for another minute before turning to walk back to the suite. He brushed past Oz waiting beside the bathroom exit.

  And fuck if Alister wasn’t thickening from the negligible contact. He swore under his breath.

  “On the bed,” Oz commanded.

  “The Great and Powerful Oz has spoken,” Alister muttered, kneeing up onto the mattress. He already had an idea what was in store, so he sat in the center of the bed. He stared straight ahead, unsmiling.

  This isn’t how Oz wanted him. Sullen, angry, silent were exact opposites of energetic, eager, and loud. He wanted Alister Baban to beg. Instead, the stony expression and curt movements made Oz feel like a spoiled child demanding his way.

  He climbed up behind Alister with the first tie and bound his wrist before cutting the plastic zip. Alister stiffened, his muscles bunched, and Oz reached around the man’s lean waist to point the tip of his blade to Alister’s balls. “Don’t.” An empty threat, but Baban didn’t know that.

  Alister stilled, reluctantly allowing his arm to be tied to the first post. Once all his limbs were secured, Oz put away the blade again.

  “Now what?” Alister challenged.

  Alister stared at the ceiling, his beautiful erection gone almost completely flaccid. Oz’s chest tightened as he looked over the feast laid out before him. Alister’s sculpted body, stretched, hard and lean, had to be enjoyed.

  He circled the bed to stand at the foot where he discovered that despite the crisp, dark hairs Alister wore on his chest, so different from Oz’s cleanly waxed body, Alister’s balls and ass were clean of hair. Oz’s gaze found the contrasting groomed thatch around the base of Alister’s cock that much more enticing.

  “You groom. How considerate for your lover.”

  Alister snorted, but his cock twitched from the praise.

  What did Alister think of his circumstances? Tied to a bed, naked with another man, discussing his genitalia? From this angle, he could see the tucked rosette flex. Arousal or anger?

  When Cain had first brought the plan to coerce Cassimer into confessing, Oz had agreed to help. Anything that would force the thief to return his spoils so the stolen funds could be returned. The pension plans would be restored to all those who lost their jobs when the company went under due to insider trading.

  Cassimer paying back the pension from his thieving had carried a purity of justice. Oz still wanted that. Unfortunately, it seemed he also wanted Alister. He’d been against the abduction until the moment Cain had passed around a photograph and put Jeret out to tail him. Then Oz not only wanted the abduction, he wanted Alister to want it, too.

  Would Alister succumb to a man?

  Oz walked back around to the side of the bed, dropping his fingertips on the other man’s ankle and dragging upward as he moved. Alister’s leg rolled outward, his thigh hardened, as though steeling for the anticipated tickle. But Oz stopped at the knee crevice, dragged his thumb back and forth on the sensitive spot.

  Alister’s inhale stuttered sharply, catching twice before he exhaled again.

  “One of my favorite places to taste. Sadly, it often gets overlooked.”

  The tie-binds creaked as Alister unconsciously pulled on them. “I thought you were supposed to be getting information from me, not tickling me like a foolish schoolgirl,” he said, speaking to the ceiling.

  Oz frowned. He would have been completely disheartened at his own lack of appeal if Alister’s cock were not currently striving for the same ceiling with which Alister shared his conversation.

  It filled, rising with jerky determination. Girth and length swelled to impressive proportions while the dusky head deepened to plum. Recessed veins now stood out in relief, making Alister’s cock a thing of ribbed, thickened beauty.

  Oz slid his fingertips to mid-thigh, scoring the skin with his nails. He mouth watered to feel the man’s shaft on his tongue.

  Alister rewarded him with a groan stripped from the depths of his throat.

  “I concede that you have every right to know what I’m planning. So I’ll tell you,” Oz said, pretending he made no notice of Alister’s heightened sexual state. But he did notice. He noticed the nipples that had shrunk and lifted to points, the rapid rise and fall of Alister’s belly, the way he fought his own body with squeezed eyes and flared nostrils.

  And Oz’s own cock moistened with victorious pre-cum when he saw that his prize lay within reach. Alister fought it, but his body wanted Oz’s with matched need.

  “I’m going to suck your cock,” Oz said. His quiet voice and warm tone dangled the husky promise like a carrot. “I’m going to swallow it, but I’m not going to let you come.”

  “Fuck,” Alister panted. The word too garbled and quiet to be heard.

  Alister’s control slipped another notch when Oz’s blunted fingertips inched from upper thigh to the crease where Alister’s ass met the back of his leg. Every nerve had been lit. Every fiber of thought knew where his negligent fingers had and had not gone while preparing for the next caress.


  “I’ll lick your balls and twist your pretty nipples.”

  He should be telling Oz to remove his hands, but he was afraid if he opened his mouth, it would be to ask Oz to move his hands to his shaft or cup his gathered balls, which had already begun to ache. He rolled his lips inward to keep from speaking.

  “If you ask nicely, I may kneel over you and let you see my cock. And if I find myself so inclined, I’ll fuck my fist for you. But you may not come until you ask me to take your very fine ass and use it.”

  “Fuck,” Alister growled.

  “Is that a request?”

  “No, dammit. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Speech had become difficult as lust clouded Alister’s brain. He wanted all those things, and from the tone of voice Oz used, he knew it.

  “I’m listening.”

  “You’re supposed to be getting information from me. So unless your goal is knowing how tight my hole is or how spunky my cum, maybe you should try asking first,” Alister said.

  He glared at Oz, but it was a mistake. Mahogany eyes watched him with hunger, spilled desire like the hand of a lover as they roamed his body. Alister’s thighs tingled. Pre-cum trickled off his tip to drip in the hairs at his root.

  With words and no more than the stroke of three fingers up his leg, Alister was on the verge of shooting his wad. How the hell would he hold out when Oz actually applied his threats?

  A wicked smile flashed along Oz’s lips. He brought his gaze back to Alister’s. “Oh that’s definitely part of my goal, but if I ask you for answers and you give them before I mete out your punishment, the fun would be over. I couldn’t take advantage of you if you gave me what I asked of you. It would be unethical.”

  “You’re all about ethics. Abduction, forcible restraint, rape…”

  Oz suddenly leaned over him to within six inches of his face. His eyes blazed with hunger and tenderness Alister hadn’t noticed before.

  “Never rape,” Oz whispered. “You’ll ask me to take you before we’re done here. You’ll ask because you want my cock buried inside your ass as badly as I want to give it to you.”