With Or Without Him Part 10

The queasy feeling in his gut had to be anxiety and antic.i.p.ation. It was unlike him to be nervous. He'd been accused of having ice in his veins, but he liked the reckless nature of what he'd just entered into. For all his brash confidence earlier, he wasn't totally sure of Tyler, but all he risked was money and he had plenty of that.

"Wilson can take you to your place tomorrow to get your things."

Tyler turned to face him. "I can do it myself. Anyway, you might be sick of me by tomorrow."

Wilson dropped them off at the front door and then drove to the garage at the rear. Tyler stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the building.

"Which floor's your apartment?"

"All of it. It's a townhouse."

Tyler laughed. "f.u.c.k."

Haris unlocked the dark blue front door and stepped aside so Tyler could enter. When he'd closed and locked the door, he took off his coat and swallowed hard. He'd spent a fortune getting that grand piano delivered today and he couldn't wait to see Tyler's face when he saw it.

"Take a look around. But not down those stairs. That's where Wilson lives. There are two floors above this one. Two bedrooms on the first, one of them mine. You can have the other or choose one on the next floor. They all have their own bathroom."

"Sure you don't want me to share with you?"

"I figured you might need your own s.p.a.ce, at least some of the time."

Tyler smiled and Haris's happy c.o.c.k thrust hard against his zipper. Tyler took off his jacket and hung it on the banister. Haris followed him as he walked around the ground floor making appreciative noises about the huge TV, the spotless kitchen, more about the TV, the sound system, the TV again.

When Tyler finally pushed open the door to the room at the front, he took two steps and stopped short. Haris watched him stare at the piano, saw the Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat and guessed he'd found a way to Tyler's heart.

"I thought you said you didn't play an instrument?" Tyler ran his fingers along the curve of the piano's body.

"I don't."

"Who does? Wilson?"

"No."

"So...is this for show?"

"I don't buy things for show. I buy them to enjoy or as an investment. I bought this for you. I thought you could practice here instead of at college. If you last four months, it's yours to keep."

"f.u.c.king h.e.l.l."

Chapter Seven.

Tyler spun away from the piano and kissed him with such force that Haris staggered back in astonishment. He clamped his hand to the back of Haris's neck, pressed his tongue hard against his lips and Haris came to his senses, opened his mouth and began to kiss him back. His heart pounded as they ate at each other in a breath-stealing, pulse-racing, greedy binge that he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until now. He slammed Tyler against the wall and plastered himself against him. They were welded from their mouths to their feet and they rutted and writhed, rubbing themselves together as if they were trying to dissolve their clothes or catch fire. Probably both.

A loud cough from the other side of the open door made them spring apart.

"Excuse me, sir. Will that be all for tonight?" Wilson had the sense not to come into the room.

"Yes, thank you," Haris mumbled.

"Then I wish you both good night. If you should require my a.s.sistance don't hesitate to call. Despite battling with a severe headache for most of the day, which I suspect might be the beginnings of a brain tumor, I shall try my utmost to stay alert and of course I shall be only too delighted to rise from my bed to do whatever bidding you might require, at any time of the night, no matter how trivial the request might seem. It's my pleasure to serve in even the most humble of ways."

"Good night, Wilson." Haris smiled at the wide-eyed look on Tyler's face.

"Might I be so bold as to enquire about the breakfast requirements of your guest, sir?"

"He doesn't like liver."

"Unless I'm mistaken and my memory is not what it was, again maybe the fault of the possible brain tumor, you don't like liver either, sir. Nor do you like-"

"Good night, Wilson." Haris didn't want him reciting a list of his food preferences, not when he had only one particular dish in mind.

"Good night, sir."

Haris listened to Wilson walk away and at the same time, he watched Tyler staring at him. Tyler flinched as a door slammed shut. d.a.m.n, he's jumpy.

"So...you like the piano?" Haris asked.

Tyler exhaled. "Are you insane? It's fantastic. Oh G.o.d, buying me a piano? You are insane."

"Want to give me a lesson?"

"What about his headache?" He nodded toward the door.

"The resident hypochondriac won't be in bed for another hour. He watches Trueblood on Friday night. It'd take the house exploding to stop him missing that."

Tyler laughed. "Come on then."

He slid onto the stool and Haris sat next to him. Their thighs met and a flash of heat whipped down his spine.

"Is there enough light?" Haris asked. Only a lamp illuminated the room.

"Yeah, we can play in the dark. Know which key is middle C?"

Haris ran his gaze over the keyboard. "There isn't one in the middle. There are two."

Tyler pressed a key. "That's middle C. Two notes to the left and you have A and B." He played them. "A, B, then you follow the alphabet up, C, D, E, F, G and start again at A. So play any B."

Haris put his finger on a white key at the end of a run of three blacks.

"Yep. You got it."

"What are the black notes?"

"Sharps and flats. Don't worry about those. Put your thumb on middle C and play up one finger after the other to G and then go down again. Smoothly as you can."

Once Haris had done it twice, Tyler played an accompaniment.

"That sounded fantastic until you joined in," Haris said.

Tyler elbowed him. "Keep your hand where it is and hit the note E three times. Do it twice, not fast and leave little gap in between. Guess that tune."

Haris got it at once. "Jingle Bells."

"See if you can play it all. You only need to use those five notes for most of it."

He could hardly believe it when after a few fumbles he managed to play something that vaguely sounded right.

"Well done."

"There'll be no stopping me now. I'll book the Albert Hall for my first recital."

Tyler blew on his neck and Haris s.h.i.+vered. "Yeah, that might stop me. You play something."

Haris slid a little way along the seat to make more room and while Tyler played, he brushed his fingers across his lower back.

"Trying to distract me?" Tyler asked.

"Yes. Is it working?"

"Keep trying."

Haris tugged out Tyler's s.h.i.+rt and trailed his fingers along the line of bare flesh above the waistband of his pants. His reward, apart from the surge of blood to his c.o.c.k, was Tyler's sharp intake of breath and the flurry of goose b.u.mps erupting under his fingers. He slid his other hand onto Tyler's thigh and kneaded it.

"You made me play a wrong note then."

There was enough s.p.a.ce to get his hand in the back of Tyler's pants and when he did, Tyler groaned. Haris's heart pounded against his ribs as his fingers settled on the skin above the seam of Tyler's b.u.t.t.

"Don't stop playing," Haris whispered in his ear and stroked gently with both hands.

"Nor you," Tyler told him and Haris laughed.

He unfastened the b.u.t.ton on Tyler's pants and eased the zipper part way down to give his other hand room to caress the globes of Tyler's backside.

"Oh G.o.d," Tyler said with a long moan. "I've forgotten what I'm supposed to be playing." He launched into a loud Jingle Bells.

"If you interfere with Trueblood, Wilson will be up here complaining for as long as I'll let him rattle on. Play something soft and sweet." He slid a finger deeper into the crack of Tyler's backside while the fingers of his other hand slipped through the gap in the boxers and onto his c.o.c.k.

"I can't...concentrate." Tyler pushed to his feet, staggered away from the piano and Haris went with him, Tyler's pants slipping down as they stumbled across the room.

"And I can't wait." Haris spun Tyler round so his back was to the door and pressed himself up against him. Tyler's pants dropped the rest of the way to the floor and Haris yanked the boxers down too.

"I need you naked," Haris whispered.

"You too."

"Just you."

He unfastened the tie from Tyler's neck as he stared into his eyes. He pulled one end free, unraveled the knot and then worked on the b.u.t.tons of the s.h.i.+rt. His level of excitement had shot off the scale. His entire body hummed. When he finally had Tyler buck naked in front of him, he knew he'd struggle to keep himself from coming in his pants.

Haris let his gaze travel over every inch of Tyler's body, from his mussed dark hair, glazed black eyes, those kiss-bruised lips and down the slender column of his neck to his shoulders and the tribal tattoo circling his forearm. He ignored the bruises. He didn't like them, didn't want to think about how Tyler had got them. The guy's heaving chest was smooth, his pecs lightly defined and topped by beautiful, tight, brown nipples. His long, thick c.o.c.k, flushed dark pink with blood, rose straight up over a flat stomach. His b.a.l.l.s hung full and heavy and his legs were part-spread, his toes curling against the wooden floor. Haris wanted him so much, he hurt.

"Will I do?" Tyler asked.

"I was just thinking you looked good enough to eat." He stroked the tattoo. "Just as well I'm not Hannibal Lector."

How many times had men told Tyler he was beautiful, gorgeous, s.e.xy? He was all that, except Haris didn't want to be like the rest. "But I'm a bit disappointed you have one leg longer than the other."

"What?" Tyler looked down.

He sucked in a breath. "And that extra nipple is unfortunate. I'll have to pretend I can't see it."

Tyler laughed and reached to thread his fingers in Haris's hair. "Thank you for not mentioning my webbed feet."

Haris couldn't help but check and Tyler laughed again. Haris stared straight at him and saw something softer in his face, something he hadn't seen before. Maybe a glimpse of the real Tyler emerging.

"Going to let me see the battling dragons tattoo on your back?" Tyler asked. "I promise not to sn.i.g.g.e.r."

Haris tensed. "No tattoos, though I like yours." He wouldn't be letting Tyler see his back in full light. It would be hard enough in a darkened room. He dropped to his knees, ran his hands down Tyler's thighs and slipped his lips over the glistening tip of the uncut c.o.c.k bobbing in front of him.

Tyler sucked in a breath. "Oh G.o.d, I should be doing this for you."

A surge of disappointment almost stopped him in his tracks. It annoyed him that Tyler thought-thought what? He had to please him? He wasn't allowed to feel pleasure too? Then Haris's head fogged with the taste of him, the feel of the sensuous glide of hot, smooth flesh over his tongue. Steel against silk, and his mouth watered, saliva mixing with tangy pre-come.

"Christ," Tyler gasped.

Haris suckled at the tip and then let it slip from his lips. "What do you like? Hard and fast, slow and wet, hand and mouth, just mouth, lots of pressure?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Did I miss a yes?"

He smiled. "Anything you don't like?"

"Not that you can do with your tongue. Unless it can turn into some seven-foot forked monster with razor teeth."

"No, only six-foot, you'll be fine."

Haris wrapped his hand around Tyler's d.i.c.k and popped his mouth back over the head, pus.h.i.+ng down and down until he'd swallowed to his fingers. Tyler arched his pelvis and tugged at Haris's hair.

"f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k," he whispered. "That feels good."

Haris pulled back and let the flat of his tongue rove over the crest, gathering beads of pre-come before he pressed into the small slit to tease out more. He winced as Tyler tugged hard at his hair, though when he looked up, he could see he wasn't trying to stop him, merely lost on the path of impending o.r.g.a.s.m.

I'm not letting you come yet.