by Lynda Aicher
Seth’s snort did a poor job of communicating his frustration. That was just fine. Deklan and Jake might be the closest thing he had to family, but they didn’t need to know everything.
“Not my thing.” Seth gave a faint smile in an effort to ease some of Deklan’s concern.
“How’s the kid doing?”
“He’s not a kid,” Seth corrected, his tone too sharp. Damn it. He rushed on before either of them could respond. “Okay. In a lot of pain, which he’s denying. Typical masochist, even though I doubt he is one.” He clasped his hands and rubbed a knuckle over his forehead.
“No?” Deklan challenged. “Why not?”
Seth pushed back and yanked open the desk draw. He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, shook a couple into his palm and downed them dry. The bottle rattled where it landed back in the drawer before he slammed it closed. His deep sigh was forced out in a long breath that helped about as much as the meds.
He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “You know he’s not. He might have a high pain tolerance, but he needs the pain like I need my dick cut off.”
Jake laughed, the gruff rumble hidden behind his hand. “Bad visual.”
“How’s his head?”
Seth understood that Deklan was referring to Tyler’s mental stability, not the concussion. “Solid. Or at least that’s what he’s showing. The guy’s good at presenting fronts.”
“You don’t believe it?”
Seth shrugged. Hell, who was he to judge another’s mental state? “Yes and no. You can’t be an escort without having some mental barriers in place.” He stared at the ceiling, contemplating his next move. There was no way around it. He had to get it out there. “He’s going to stay at my place until he’s healed more.”
“What?” Jake’s reaction was exactly as expected. As was Deklan’s silence. “Are you crazy?”
The chuckle that rose from Seth’s chest confirmed that he probably was. “Worried I’m taking after my mother?”
“No,” Jake scoffed. “But you’re asking for trouble. What if that guy’s using you to sue the club?” Part of the contract included a liability waiver, but there were always ways around that.
“Not the way of it. He says he’s not going to sue. I believe him.”
“Then why?” Dek’s low tone had as much impact as Jake’s harsher one.
It was a good question. One Seth expected but still didn’t want to answer. “Yeah, do you the savior really need to ask?”
“Coming from the man who berated me just months ago for that, yes.”
“And Deklan ended up with Kendra.” A sly smile curled over Jake’s lips as he sat back in the chair. “Now I get it.” Jake’s satisfied look of understanding rubbed against Seth’s tightly held emotions, leaving him too exposed.
“No. You don’t.” Seth nailed Jake with a glare that dared the man to challenge him.
Jake backed down, his palms lifted in retreat. “Hey, no beef. I don’t care who you top—you know that.”
Right. Seth scrubbed his face, ready for the interrogation to be done. The fact that he thought of the meeting as that was telling in itself. He looked to Deklan. “It would’ve been helpful if you’d told me his name was really Tyler, not Taylor.”
Deklan gave his patented half smile, the one that quirked up just enough to show a hint of the dimple that actually made him appear less military and more civilian. “Thought you would have searched that out when you dug through his file.”
With so many people using fake identities at the club to maintain their anonymity, Rock had created a database that mapped aliases to real names. It was separate from the other files, which were all stored by club names. It was Seth’s own dumb fault for not cross-checking the database.
He turned his chair and switched on his computer. “I need to get the paperwork going. I probably won’t be down much for the next few days. You two got the club covered?”
“Got it.” Deklan rose and waited for Seth to look at him. “What’d Allie say?”
Seth barely resisted the reflexive urge to hang his head and groan. He busied himself with logging into the network instead. “She’s willing to represent Tyler, but he refused her help. The club’s covering his medical costs, and that’s all he wanted.”
“Then why’s he still upstairs?”
The glare he shot Jake did not succeed in killing the man like he intended. Jake only smiled and strolled to the door. The man was entirely too happy since he’d hooked up with Cali.
The door closed behind Deklan, leaving Seth in merciful silence. The low whirl of the laptop fan was all that broke the quiet. He simply absorbed that stillness and let it sink into him. With any luck, it’d hold.
He glanced at the computer clock and got to work. Allie would be back in a few hours and he intended to be there. There was no way he was going to miss her grand reentry. The intrigue of if she’d arrive, luggage in tow or with only a drugstore bag, was too good to skip. And damn if he could figure out which way she was leaning.
Tyler had been sleeping when he’d left. He’d managed to get up and shuffle out to the couch to eat and click through the television channels.
This whole situation with the three of them was one Seth hadn’t seen coming, and he usually saw everything. It was his job to stay ahead of the game, to know the plays before they were needed. But with this, he was scrambling just to keep up.
He didn’t like it. And he couldn’t let it go, either.
The sense of awe when Tyler had calmly pulled Allie in for that kiss had been quickly overshadowed by desire. Seeing the two of them together had fired a burning need in Seth to control the outcome. To have them both.
He shouldn’t want that, but stopping was impossible. He’d set the events in motion, starting last night when he kissed Allie. Issuing the challenge for her stay was another maneuver he was doing as much for himself as Tyler. The other man was definitely interested in her. In both of them, if Seth wasn’t mistaken.
And Seth wasn’t mistaken.
Too many years in business, this one especially, had made him pretty damn good at reading people. Tyler might hook himself as a gay man, but he was definitely into Allie. But was she into both of them?
It was a cluster-fuck in the making. And Seth didn’t need any more of those. A fuck, yes. But he could skip the cluster. Like that was going to happen.
Chapter Nine
“Yeah. I know,” Tyler mumbled into his cell phone. “The client wanted it.”
“Did you resist?” The voice on the other end was the same firm timbre he’d been hearing since he’d started with the agency. “The client was mad as fuck when he called in.”
“I gave him what he paid for.” And he’d better get his money. Johns paid more for a guy who did the club shit, and that was Tyler’s main motivation. Most payments were done electronically, which left Tyler trusting the agency to pay him his share. So far they’d been honest. Carter had sworn to that when he’d recruited Tyler off the streets and into the hold of the escort service and the man on the phone.
“Where are you now?”
Tyler looked around the spacious, sophisticated loft and discarded his first thought—heaven. “Somewhere safe.”
“How long will you be out?”
On reflex, he clenched his glut muscles and winced at the sharp stab of pain that arrowed straight to his nuts, as if the two parts were directly connected. During sex, maybe. But otherwise, no. “Not sure. At least two weeks. Maybe more if sex is involved.”
“Right.” The snort of disgust was muffled over the hazy fuzz of the cell phone, but the meaning was still clear. Sex was always on the table. That was the business. It also meant no income for him or the agency until he was back in full commission. “You sure the club is covering the medical?”
“Yeah.”
The sniff came through the line loud and clear. A short slurp of air and snot that was always a tell. He gripped the phone tighter, eyes squeezed shut in preparation. “Master Rex wan
ts to book you as soon as you’re back in the rotation.”
His teeth protested as his jaw squeezed down to clamp back the instant revulsion that threatened to make him sick. He couldn’t do it. “No.”
Silence. It was the first time he’d ever said no to the agency. In general, he didn’t think that was something a person so low on the totem pole got to say. But he wouldn’t endure that again. Not for anyone or any price.
“He won’t be happy.”
“I don’t care.”
The chuckle that came over the line was not one of joy. “You get one pass. Think on it. I’ll be in touch.”
The call disconnected before Tyler could respond. The urge to hurl the phone across the room was restrained only because he couldn’t afford a new one. He dropped the object on the floor. The plush area rug cushioned the fall and denied him the satisfaction of hearing it clatter on the hardwood.
He rubbed his forehead into the pillow. Smooth velvet caressed his skin, followed by that soap-and-spice scent that was Master Seth. It was an evil repeat of last night, right down to his breath hitch and cock twitch. Fuck. The call was an abrupt reminder that as enticing as this little threesome might be, it was only an illusion. As soon as he was better, he’d be slammed back into the hard reality that was his life.
Almost made him wish he hadn’t found his stuff on the kitchen counter. It’d hurt like a son of a bitch to get up, even with the second dose of painkillers. But he knew he had to move. It was better to keep everything flexible, no matter how much it hurt. And he’d needed to piss like a race horse.
Along with his phone were the clothes he’d worn to the club and his wallet. The quick verification that his money was still there had been a compulsion he couldn’t suppress.
Seth had been in the shower then, the exit only feet away. Tyler had stared at the door, the freedom he’d desired last night within his reach, but he hadn’t left. He probably should have, should still do now, yet here he lay.
The click of locks being opened jerked Tyler out of his thoughts. He glanced down the length of the couch to see Seth stride into the loft, a laptop under one arm, a black duffle bag swung over his shoulder.
Seth looked to Tyler and smiled before moving to the kitchen counter to deposit his items. “Doing better?” His voice was buried under the gunfire coming from the random action flick Tyler had been absently watching.
He muted the show and glanced back to the kitchen. Seth had disappeared around the corner, but the clank of cupboards, followed by the fizz of a beverage being poured, could be heard through the now-quiet loft.
Tyler waited for Seth to return, using the time to get his bearings back in place. The fact that he was still there left his sanity in doubt.
The thump of boots on the wood floors announced Seth’s return before the man came around the corner, two glasses in his hands. The casual jeans and polo shirt didn’t take away from the authority he seemed to wear naturally. It only proved that the clothes did not make the Dom, something the john from last night needed to learn.
“Soda?” Seth’s easy smile looked casual but seemed forced. “No straws. Sorry.”
“Thanks.” Tyler took the offering, the glass cold against his palm. He pushed up, trying not to wince at the stinging bites that came with the movement. The soda fizzled over his tongue and down his throat in a refreshing way that had him sighing at the pleasure.
He set the glass on the ground and looked up, the appreciation for the drink still stretched across his face. He froze. “What?”
Seth was staring at him, a look of confusion mixed with lust on his face. His brows were lowered in concentration, but his mouth was open just a touch, as if he hadn’t realized it was even parted. He wet his lips, a flick of his tongue that had Tyler biting his own to keep from copying the motion.
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”
Tyler flashed a smile. “Neither was I.”
Seth puffed out an agreement, his smirk softening the action. “Why are you?”
The shrug tugged at the wounds on Tyler’s shoulder, the little knife bites slashing across his back. “Don’t know.”
A small chin lift of acknowledgement was Seth’s reply.
The muted action on the flat screen absorbed both of their attention for a while. Tyler didn’t reach for the remote to increase the volume; their conversation wasn’t over. The Dom was stewing on something. Probably the same thing Tyler had been grinding on all day.
What the hell was going on? And there was no denying that something was brewing between the three of them.
“Is Allie coming back?” he asked, his eyes trained on the military shootout taking place on the screen.
“Would you like that?”
The grin stretched his lips before he could stop it. He cut a quick glance at the other man. What did he want to hear? Tyler couldn’t tell, so he answered honestly. “Yes.”
Seth nodded and set his glass on the end table. The pure intent on the Dom’s face seemed to suck all of the saliva from Tyler’s mouth. He swallowed, the refreshing wetness from the soda long gone.
Three steps was all it took for the Dom to be standing before him. Anticipation tingled over his skin, pinpricks of sensation that had nothing to do with his injuries. He wasn’t afraid; there was no malice on Seth’s face or in his posture. Possessiveness, oh yeah. There was scores of that stamped all over every action.
Tyler held still, waited.
It was Master Seth who kneeled down, crossed his arms over his bent knee and leaned forward. It was impossible for Tyler to look away. The fabulous sunburst eyes held him as strong as chains or bonds. The Dom had the most amazing eyes he’d ever noticed. From a distance they appeared light brown, but this close it was impossible not to see the fine lines of gold that spread out from the pupil. “Me, too.”
Tyler fumbled for a moment, his brain scrambling for what Seth meant. Allie. The previous question rammed into his numb brain as he caught up with the conversation. He cleared his throat, willing his voice to remain steady. “Yeah?”
The Dom flicked a half smile, his eyes dancing. “Yeah.”
Tyler curled his fingers into a tight fist as Seth reached out to lay his palm on the back of Tyler’s neck. He couldn’t contain the sigh that breathed out. There was no other way to describe the slow unwinding of every muscle other than melting. Only with this man.
Just one touch, right there, and all of the tension dripped from him, leaving behind nothing but calm compliance. Right now, he would do whatever the Dom wanted. Anything.
“And do you want this?” Seth asked, the rumble of his voice as commanding as it was questioning.
The nerves in Tyler’s stomach spun into a tight corkscrew of need and fear. He knew everything would end badly. Nothing that felt this good ever ended well. That didn’t stop him from sliding off the couch, his bare chest sticking on the smooth leather as he slowly lowered his knees to the rug. Seth straightened, easing back to give Tyler room.
He grunted softly, the sound escaping around his clenched teeth. The fire intensified down his back and ass as he moved, but he didn’t care. He had to do this.
Bracing his hands on the edge of the cushions, he pushed up and met Seth’s eyes. He settled on his knees before deliberately clasping his hands behind his back. The action pinched at the skin between his shoulder blades, and he couldn’t rest his wrists against his lower back to make the position more comfortable. It was still fine. Better than.
The buzz that hummed within his head had nothing to do with the pain meds. The Dom had shifted to face him. Their eyes were almost level now, Seth being a few inches taller even on their knees. Tyler liked that, almost equal but not quite. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through the Dom’s long hair and see if the rusty-brown strands were as soft as Allie’s.
Shit. He shouldn’t do this. But he did.
In a move that showed only what he wanted the Dom to see, Tyler closed his eyes and lowered his head. �
��Yes, sir.”
The sharp suck of air hissed through the silence to slither around Tyler, anchoring him in place. His groin ached, his cock hardening enough to tent his loose, cotton pants. The rapid beat of his pulse ticked off in his head, chest and dick—a hat trick of desperation.
He wanted to look, to open his eyes and see what the Dom was doing, thinking. But he didn’t. It was Seth’s move and for once in his life, Tyler wanted to submit.
What would it be like to truly, honestly, surrender and trust this man before him?
It was risky, but he had to do it.
“Damn.” The whispered curse was exhaled next to Tyler’s ear, the word flowing down his spine ahead of the goose bumps that followed. The urge to turn toward the warmth, to open his eyes and see Seth’s expression was impossibly strong. But he held still. His need to please the Dom was stronger than his need for conformation.
Tyler flinched, a quick tensing of muscles, when Seth’s warm palms cradled his jaw. There it was again, that touch that took away his worries and smoothed over his anxieties.
Seth brushed his thumbs over Tyler’s cheekbones, the touch so light that Tyler gasped at what felt like a pledge of kindness. It only took a little pressure for him to lift his chin, but he couldn’t open his eyes.
“Look at me.” The order was low, firm, yet held a small thread of something else. It was that something that made Tyler comply more than anything.
He raised his eyelids and was held captive by the intensity in the Dom’s eyes. Tyler wanted to breathe, he really did, but his lungs were as frozen as the rest of him. No one had ever looked at him with that much...compassion.
“You’re sure?”
No. Absolutely fucking not. “Yes, sir.”
Seth frowned, his brows drawing together. “I don’t need that.”
Confused, Tyler struggled to figure out what he’d done wrong. Usually he didn’t care, but with this man it mattered. “What, sir?”
“That. The ‘sir.’ It’s not what I want.”
“Why?” The question was out before Tyler thought to stop it.
Now Seth smiled, the action easing the lines between his brows. “Because that doesn’t belong with this.”
