With Or Without Him Part 39

"How come you're so...up?" Haris asked, licking his fingers.

How come you don't see beyond my smile? "Because I'm not dead."

Haris shuddered. "You might have been. It's all my fault."

f.u.c.k it, not again. "Don't talk rubbish."

"But it is. Your beautiful back."

Tyler put the pizza box down and turned to face him. "Look, my back will be fine and if it isn't, and it upsets me, then I'll have it tattooed. It's happened. I have to get over it. If I can, so can you. Christ, I have enough baggage without adding to it. So do you."

Haris groaned. "If I hadn't-"

"Just stop right there. Let it go. I know it's easy to say but you have to at least try. I should have had more sense than to get in Rashid's car. I should have called the police not Prescott. There's a lot of things I could have done differently but there's no point beating myself up about it. It's taken me long enough to get there, but I finally see there's no point looking back, your father was right. Only the future matters."

"But-"

"No buts. Christ, I'll have to get you one of those rubber bands to snap."

"What?"

"A distraction technique. After my family died, the local council paid for a therapist. By the time he saw me, I was angry at everyone and everything. A ball of fury. I had no friends. I didn't want them, didn't think I needed them. I sulked, broke things, didn't cooperate, didn't care. All I had was my anger and I fed it like a fire. The therapist said if I hung onto it, it would wreck my life because I'd never manage to sustain a relationship. I'd go off on one, hit out. He told me the first thing someone did to upset me would set me off and I thought-right, and I tipped a cup of tea in his lap."

"Ouch."

"It was lukewarm, but he looked like he'd wet his pants. I a.s.sumed I'd get someone else a.s.signed to me, but he was there again the next week and I thought, maybe this is someone who isn't pretending to care, that he really does give a s.h.i.t. He gave me a red rubber band to wear around my wrist and if I got angry, I was supposed to snap it. That first week, I snapped it so much my wrist bled, which made me throw up." He chuckled. "I kept the rubber band for a long time. It worked but not in the way he'd antic.i.p.ated. I just had to think about it making me bleed and I was too scared to be angry, or upset or whatever else I needed not to be."

"I've seen you flicking your wrist a few times."

"When I'm stressed. I forget there's nothing there."

Haris ruffled his fingers in his hair. "You're a mixed up kid."

"So are you." He gave a heavy sigh. "What do we tell the police tomorrow?"

"Whatever you like."

"About your brother?"

Haris pushed the remains of his pizza aside. "There's no proof Malik manipulated Rashid into doing anything. Nor that Malik pushed us into the path of that bus, though I'm sure he did. Even if the police want to interview him, there's no extradition treaty with Saudi. He won't voluntarily come back."

"So he'll just get away with it and he isn't even sorry. Because of him, Rashid stabbed Jeremy. He might have killed him."

"I thought earlier that you wanted me to let him go."

"I don't know what I want."

"How can we prove Malik had anything to do with the attack on Jeremy? My father's dying. Whatever else Malik has done, he's been a good son."

"But a bad brother."

"It's hard being the middle one."

Tyler glared. "Stop making excuses for him. He wanted you dead so he could have your money."

"He wants the business more than the money though the two are entwined. Even if he went to jail, under Sharia, he'd still inherit a third of my father's estate. But this is up to you. If you want to tell the police, go ahead. Do what you think is right."

Tyler chewed on his pizza.

"When I was looking for you, I went to see Jeremy," Haris said. "I thought he might know where you were. His parents were there. He's going to live with them for a while. He was adamant he wouldn't say anything about Prescott or Gerald. He didn't want to hurt his parents."

"I've already told the police all about that. I hope it doesn't f.u.c.k up his chances of flight school."

"Not if he doesn't accuse Gerald. The police probably won't be able to touch the b.a.s.t.a.r.d but if they raid the apartment, maybe they'll get Prescott. And I'll pay for Jeremy's flight school. It's the least I can do."

Someone else to throw money at? But Tyler was glad Haris was going to help Jeremy. "That's very good of you." He leaned into the couch, sucked in a breath at the pain in his back and sat forward again. "Why did you tell Stan to follow me?"

"I already told you. I was trying to protect you. Wilson had seen a car following us. A white Fiat to start with and then a black Peugeot. I know now it was Malik and Rashid but I had no idea at the time. I wanted you to be safe. That was all. It wasn't anything to do with not trusting you."

"Really?"

"I wanted to keep you safe. Except when Stan sent me a picture of you hugging a guy with dark hair outside your place, I didn't realize it was Jeremy. I thought...I thought you already had a boyfriend."

"I told you-"

"I know. I just...s.h.i.t. In trying to keep you safe, I almost wrecked what we have. I'm sorry. Not sure how many times I need to say that."

Tyler slid closer to him. "You're an idiot."

"Yep."

"You thought I'd cheat on you?"

Haris sagged. "Any point saying 'sorry' yet again?"

"I know you're sorry." Tyler sighed. "I'll tell the police everything Rashid told me, about him being the artistic director of the Cairo Symphony Orchestra, how he drugged me and took me to the club. You and Stan could have been following me because...you didn't trust me...and you arrived just in time."

"We were late."

"Being too late would have been worse. I can say Rashid had tried to chat me up before and that I thought he might have followed me home. Some random bloke who fancied me. Not able to be openly gay in Saudi so cruising in London would fit and explain how he came to attack Jeremy. I don't need to know anything about him. There doesn't have to be a link to you. The police won't be able to find that out, will they?"

"I don't know." Haris furrowed his brow. "Probably not. If Malik had any sense, he brought him here on a false pa.s.sport. Even if he didn't, Rashid was in prison for a long time. The link to me is...there, though distant. But I don't like lying."

"You want to explain to the police why you told your brother to get out of the country?"

Haris shook his head.

"We just need to make sure Stan's story matches ours."

"It will. He won't want it known he traced any cell phones." He exhaled. "I really don't like lying."

"It's not lying exactly, more like not revealing everything."

"Talking of revealing everything..." Haris's mouth twitched in a smile.

Is he going to tell me he loves me? "Yes?"

"Where did that Christmas tree come from? I thought I had the wrong house."

Tyler pushed back his disappointment. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. I'll have to cancel the delivery of the eight foot one I usually get."

"Oh s.h.i.t. Sorry."

Haris laughed. "I'm kidding. Do we need stuff to put on it?"

"Suppose so." Tyler quite liked it plain and honest.

"Maybe we can go shopping tomorrow."

"Don't you have to go to work?"

"I'm going to have the day off." He rose to his feet, held out his hand and pulled Tyler up.

Haris had the call from Stan as they were on their way upstairs and put it on speaker. The PI had told the police very little because he knew very little. He said he did occasional work for Haris, that the pair of them had followed Tyler to a cafe and then followed Tyler and an unknown man to the club. By the time they had access, Tyler had already been a.s.saulted. Stan had never spoken to the unknown man, or to Tyler and knew nothing more.

"Is that going to work?" Tyler asked as they went into Haris's bedroom.

"Rashid is dead. There's no one to contradict our story. The only question will be why he committed suicide."

"Maybe he was trying to get away. We drive on the left side of the road. He could have forgotten."

"You are devious."

Tyler laughed. He pushed Haris to sit on the bed, then crawled onto his lap and straddled him, a knee either side of Haris's thighs. Haris slipped his hands onto his b.u.t.t and then let him go.

"I'm not made of gla.s.s," Tyler said. I can make you love me.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll yelp if you do."

He flattened his hands on Haris's chest and laid his palm over his heart. The steady pulse beat through his hand and into his body. Tyler leaned until Haris dropped onto his back and then he feathered his mouth up his neck, over his rough chin and onto soft lips. His back was throbbing but Tyler didn't care. He just needed Haris to love him and everything would be all right.

"Sure you're okay?" Haris whispered.

"I'm fine."

Haris smiled. "How about if I lie here and let you ravage me?"

"Typical. I have to do all the work."

Tyler slid backward off the bed and undressed. The dressings tugged at his skin when he moved, but he felt sore rather than in pain. Even so, the thought of Haris being whipped fifty lashes at a time made his stomach churn. In a perverse way, he was glad Rashid had whipped him. At least he knew a little of what Haris had been through. Not that he needed anything else to bring him closer to the guy. He was too close already. And yet, not as close as he wanted to be.

I need you to love me. You could say it to your dad, why can't you say it to me?

Maybe s.e.x could make everything right.

Haris undressed and lay on the bed stroking his c.o.c.k. Tyler threw condoms and lube next to him, pulled open the bottom drawer of the dresser and tossed out a few other things.

"Been snooping?" Haris asked.

"I was looking for a sandwich, and boy, was I surprised. I threw away the ladies bra and panties."

"I didn't have-oh right. Very funny."

Tyler kissed his way from Haris's knee to his inner thigh. He wrapped his hand around the base of Haris's c.o.c.k and closed his lips on the head.

"Oh f.u.c.k, your mouth," Haris mumbled.

Tyler did everything that he liked having done to him, inch by inch engulfing the hot d.i.c.k he held in his hand, feeding it into his mouth. He fluttered his tongue over the crest, sucked hard, then sucked slow while Haris's breathing grew more and more ragged. When he took Haris's b.a.l.l.s into his mouth, the breathing stopped for a moment and a few seconds later, Haris inhaled with a gasp. Tyler loved the taste of him, the scent of him, the different textures of his body.

"You are so b.l.o.o.d.y good at that."

Tyler laughed and peppered his thighs with kisses. He snagged the lube and dragged it over together with a couple of other things, and dropped his mouth to the taint, rubbing his tongue over the strip of flesh behind his b.a.l.l.s until Haris's thighs trembled. Tyler shoved at his legs until he pulled them up and gave him more room to play. He ought to have put the c.o.c.k ring on Haris before he was hard, but it was adjustable so Tyler slipped it over the head of his c.o.c.k and tightened it at the base.

Haris released a loud groan.

Once his fingers were lubed, Tyler teased around Haris's puckered opening.

"Let me in," Tyler whispered.

"What's the magic word?"

"Let me in, a.s.shole."

Haris laughed and Tyler's finger slid in to caress hot, soft velvet and Haris's laugh turned into a groan. He kissed Haris's thigh as he thrust gently in and out and then added another finger. With the next shunt, he nailed his prostate.

"f.u.c.k." Haris bucked.

When Tyler did it again, he bucked again and released a deep groan.

"I still remember the day I found that place in my body," Tyler whispered. "I'd bought a rubber d.i.l.d.o in a s.e.x shop and I was petrified someone would grab my bag and find it before I had a chance to hide it in the care home. First time I tried to put it in, I had no lube. I thought I was going to die and I decided I wasn't gay after all."

Haris chuckled and slid his fingers into Tyler's hair, twisting the dark locks into spirals.

"I bought lube. Not that it made it much easier. I stood with a foot on the toilet and a finger up my b.u.m and thought, if this hurts, how the h.e.l.l can I get that thing up? I resigned myself to future s.e.x with guys who had two inch d.i.c.ks."