With or Without Him (4 page)

“No fucking without a condom. Fisting. Anything stuck down my dick. Having two cocks in my ass. Scat play. Watersports.”

Jeremy shuddered, as he’d hoped. Prescott’s parties were mostly on the light side of kinky, but it didn’t hurt to have Jeremy think otherwise.

“If I say no too often, he’ll just tell me to fuck off. There’s plenty of us out there.” He looked straight into Jeremy’s face. “Don’t go back.”

“He never uses kids, does he?”

“Kids? Christ. Not that I’ve seen, but then I thought you were a kid.” He snorted. “No way are you twenty-four.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“I’m seventeen. You’re an old man. Shit.” Jeremy took his hand off his cock.

Tyler growled. Jeremy laughed and put his hand back.
But seventeen? Oh God.

Jeremy pushed open the button on Tyler’s jeans and eased the zipper over his aching cock. Tyler’s ability to stop him was slithering down the drain.

He sucked in a breath and looked straight into Jeremy’s eyes. “You do know there are cameras everywhere in that apartment? Probably recording. You want to suddenly see your face on some dodgy website?” He groaned as Jeremy slipped his hand inside his boxers and grasped his dick.

“I can always dye my hair.”

“That’s not…” One roll of Jeremy’s thumb over the head of Tyler’s cock and he forgot why this wasn’t a good idea.

In a flurry of buttons and zippers, and colliding arms and legs, they stripped each other of their clothes, tussling and mock-wrestling until they lay panting on the bed. Jeremy was a lot stronger than he looked and that turned up Tyler’s heat another notch.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jeremy whispered.

“You’re not bad yourself.”

Jeremy chewed his lip. “I wish I hadn’t met you there. I wish—”

Tyler shut him up with a kiss. Wishing got you nowhere. Another of life’s lessons he’d learned early on. They writhed together with lips locked, two hard cocks slipping and sliding against skin and against the bed cover, and the friction ratcheted up the desire another couple of notches. Tyler pushed his hand between their bodies, wrapped his fingers around both of their dicks and Jeremy groaned against his throat.

“I want to fuck you,” Jeremy gasped.

Tyler clamped his other hand on the guy’s tight butt, dragging him closer, needing more, needing…

“Want you. Please. Be my first.” Jeremy nipped his shoulder. “You can do me after.”

Oh shit.
He didn’t want to be his first, he didn’t want to be his anything, but when Jeremy twisted them both and lay face down on Tyler’s back, he didn’t buck him off. The weight and heat of him made Tyler moan with pleasure, and the feel of a cock digging into the crease of his butt made him long to feel it inside him. He shivered as Jeremy pulled back and rested his weight on his thighs.

“I can’t believe I’m…fuck, you’re so gorgeous. I’m glad I waited. I’m glad you’re my first.”

Tyler didn’t deserve to be his first, he didn’t deserve to be his anything, but when Jeremy shifted his weight, Tyler raised his hips and spread his legs wider. He heard the squelch of lube and slick fingers slid into the seam of his ass, zeroed in on his asshole and he gasped as Jeremy sank a finger into him.

“Oh God, you are so fucking tight,” Jeremy said with a groan. “And hot.”

Goose bumps erupted on his skin as Jeremy eased two fingers into his hole. The burn was a mix of pain and pleasure but Tyler wanted more. Jeremy leaned over and licked from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck, and as he trailed his tongue up Tyler’s back, he finger-fucked his ass.

“Tell me you want me,” Jeremy whispered.

What? Me lying here groaning isn’t enough?

“Tell me.”

Tyler wasn’t sure he could still speak but he heard the desperation in Jeremy’s voice and mumbled, “Uh-huh.”

Jeremy’s fingers slipped from his body and Tyler found himself hoisted onto all fours. He pressed his face into a pillow and reached for his cock. There was a loud snap of latex, an “ouch, fuck that hurt,” from Jeremy and Tyler let out a short laugh. He shivered as Jeremy knocked his hand from his cock and replaced it with his.

“That’s mine.”

Tyler’s breathing quickened as Jeremy pumped and squeezed his dick and at the same time pressed his own cock against the pucker of Tyler’s ass. Tyler sucked in a breath and waited for the bite of discomfort.

“Oh Christ,” Jeremy groaned. “I wanted to do this all fucking night, but every time I looked at you…”

Yeah, well, just as well he didn’t finish the sentence because Tyler had spent the entire night with a cock in his mouth or up his butt or in his hand or all three at the same time.

Jeremy tightened his hold on Tyler’s hip, his fingers strengthening their grip on his cock, and at the same time he increased the pressure on his anus. The moment the thick crest popped through, Tyler gasped but Jeremy’s gasp was louder. Muscles burned, stretched and spasmed as Jeremy pushed deeper inside him, their groans increasing in intensity. Tyler arched his backside, the angle of penetration changed and Jeremy’s cock glanced off his prostate.
That’s goooood.

More, harder, faster.
But the words remained in his head. Didn’t matter anyway because his hips were moving of their own accord, thrusting back into Jeremy’s frantic forward drives. He could feel Jeremy’s balls banging against his butt, and he slid his hand back to his cock and settled it over Jeremy’s forgetful one to help bring himself off. The cock inside him swelled and Jeremy’s breathing grew choppier. His thrusts turned shorter and faster until he was pounding into Tyler, driving him up the bed.

“This feels fucking great,” Jeremy gasped in his ear. “I’ve wanted to do this so much, but I’m glad I waited.”

Fuck no. Not for me.
A hot, tight sensation rolled through Tyler’s gut and coalesced at the base of his dick. Pressure in the back of his head burst like a balloon and fire shot down his spine to ignite his balls. His cock danced in his and Jeremy’s fists, and ribbons of come spurted onto the bed beneath him. He clenched his muscles around Jeremy’s cock, and Jeremy cried out as he exploded inside him.

Aftershocks vibrated through them as they tried to catch their breath and then Tyler dropped onto the wet bed and Jeremy sank on top of him. When Tyler turned his head, Jeremy gave him a long lingering kiss and all Tyler could think was—
mistake, mistake, mistake
. The last thing he wanted was a needy guy.

Tyler refused requests to spend the rest of the day with Jeremy. He said he had work to do and he did, but that wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to stay. It was a mistake to get close to anyone, particularly a guy he’d have to watch being fucked and fucking others because he knew Jeremy would go back. It was too much money to turn down. No matter how much Jeremy pushed, Tyler didn’t want a relationship, especially while he was working for Prescott, especially
with
someone working for Prescott. And if Jeremy had an ounce of sense, he’d feel the same.

This had been a one off, though he was too much of a coward to tell Jeremy that. But he did give him a final warning about getting entrained into anything more than Saturday night parties. At least with others around, it was—well, not safe, but safer. Tyler’s stomach clenched when he thought about Wednesday. He wasn’t even taking his own advice. What would Prescott want him to do? Was anything a step too far if the price was right?
A thousand quid?

When Jeremy pressed about meeting up again, Tyler was deliberately vague. He could still hear Jeremy’s “fuck off” and the slam of the door echoing in his head.

They’d exchanged numbers while they were still thick-headed with lust, but when Jeremy texted
IMS
meaning
I am sorry
, before Tyler even reached the Tube, he ignored it. As he did the next three messages, two of which were so abbreviated he didn’t understand them.

He didn’t go back to his room. No point wallowing in misery and guilt. Instead, he decided to go to college and caught the Tube to Cutty Sark Station in Greenwich. If no practice room was free, he’d wait.

Why did I go back to his place?
Tyler had known it would end with them both feeling bad. It just wasn’t right to get involved while they were being paid for sex. And he really wasn’t Tyler’s type—though he had been this morning. No money involved, no doing anything he didn’t want to, another like him to wipe away the touches of the men who’d gone before. He and Jeremy had used each other.

Tyler signed his name on the board to reserve the next two hours with a piano and collected his music folder from his locker.

Music was the most important thing in his life. Music kept him sane, stopped him from feeling lonely. Any music. Tyler was as comfortable with classical as he was with hard rock. Even stuff he wouldn’t have chosen to listen to, if others liked it that was all that mattered. In his opinion, being scornful about Justin Bieber was no different to gagging at Beethoven. Everyone’s tastes were different, but the effect of music was universal. Music had saved him when nothing else could. It had let him escape into a different world and it still did.

He needed to practice two pieces by Liszt that he was performing in a concert on…
Oh fuck, fuck, no. Wednesday night. How could I fucking forget?
He groaned and reversed direction, heading for the notice board to see if the order of play had been posted. It hadn’t.
Shit.
He’d just have to hope he was scheduled in the first half and if not, beg Dr. Flowers, the head of the music department, to let him swap with someone.

Not going to Prescott’s thing wasn’t an option. He needed that thousand pounds. Plus Tyler had the uncomfortable feeling Prescott would contact Jeremy if he called to say he couldn’t make it. It annoyed him that he felt protective. He wished like fuck he hadn’t gone back to his place. He shouldn’t have been Jeremy’s first for anything because despite telling himself not to, now Tyler felt involved.

He climbed the stairs to the practice room with heavy steps. Hopefully, playing would put him in a better mood. Dr. Flowers had arranged the midterm concert with the aim of enticing guests to sponsor the school. Tyler wasn’t the best pianist of his year. He’d been told by Boris, his piano tutor, to make the guitar his second instrument and by his guitar tutor, Marc, to put the guitar above the piano. He refused to choose one over the other which annoyed his tutors, but Boris said he had the most heart of anyone in his year and it was a compliment he cherished because Tyler never shared his heart. It was too fragile to risk breaking.

He warmed up with a Chopin etude and then launched into Liszt’s
La Campanella
, a fast moving study with large jumps over the keys, great for demonstrating dexterity and accuracy, and bloody easy to cock up. He followed that with one of his favorite pieces, Liszt’s
Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2
. He messed up the trills, swore and repeated the section over and over until it was perfect, and then lost himself in the fun of the fast part, his playing so frantic he wondered for a while if he or the piano was in charge.

Whether his fingers danced in a violent explosion of motion or soothed the keys in gentle meditation, whatever and whenever he played, it was just him and the music in mostly perfect harmony. It made him feel safe and secure when nothing else could, and the pleasure in creating something so beautiful made his pulse race as fast as if he was having sex.

He ended the piece with a flourish and then gulped.
Shit. Remember to breathe.
Tyler let out a snort of laughter. Playing almost always made him feel better, more hopeful. Music wiped away the grime of his life, for a while at least. That something pure could make his soul sing proved he still had one, and that music could make him smile without reason gave him hope. Music had the ability to calm his frazzled nerves or excite him until his heart pounded. He liked loud, fast and strong the best. He could be emotional in playing in a way he couldn’t risk in real life. He trusted music with his heart because it would never let him down.

Tyler switched to Rachmaninoff’s
Prelude in g major
. He felt an affinity with Rachmaninoff because the composer had for a long period been depressed and cash-strapped. Rachmaninoff wanted those who played his pieces to put themselves into the performance, to instill their own perspectives into the music rather than merely follow instructions. So no two performances were ever the same. Not even by Tyler. He became caught up in the Russian cadences of the piece he was playing, the strong bass line appealing to his rock instincts, and he played and played until he’d wiped last night and this morning from his mind.

Almost.

Chapter Three

Haris held out his arms as his valet brushed his tux jacket with strong sweeping motions, first against the nap of the material and then in the opposite direction. He hadn’t thought the jacket needed attention but as usual, Wilson knew better.

“You’re tsking under your breath,” Haris said.

Wilson harrumphed. “After collecting your tuxedo from the dry cleaner, I carefully hung the lint-free garment in the closet. The specks I’m endeavoring to remove have come from your carpet and I find this extremely puzzling since
I
didn’t drop it.”

“My fault then.” It was.

“I would never presume to say so, sir.”