Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago) (5 page)

Bryan crossed his arms over his chest. “That shit stings.”

Sighing, Hark set aside the bottle. “Peroxide does not
usually sting.”

Bryan stuck his lower lip out. “Yes it does. My mom used to put that shit on me every time I fell down. Swore I'd never let another person do it again.”

“Are you sure it was peroxide?”

“I don't know. It was in a brown bottle like that, but it had a rubber stopper in it. It came out orange and stung like no other.”

A chuckle escaped him. “Dude,that was iodine. My own mom used that crap until I finally bought her a bottle of peroxide and dumped the other shit. And yeah, it stings like a bitch. Let me show you something.” Pouring a small amount into the palm of his hand, he urged Bryan to look. “See clear. Not orange.”

Bryan looked at him skeptically. “So. Times have changed. Maybe they did away with the dye because of all the skin allergies.”

“You're grasping at straws.” Wiping his hand on the leg of his jeans, he used the same ploy on Bryan that he'd used on Alex when the boy had protested getting doctored up. “Look. If I don't clean this out, it's going to get infected. What will your Master say about that? He'd probably kick my ass before tossing me out on my ear.”

Bryan frowned. “No he won't. Master wouldn’t blame you. He’d probably warm my ass for giving you a hard time though.”

“Then let’s get this done, and I won't mention to him about you being a brat when I tried to clean this up.”

Finally, Bryan nodded. “But if it stings I'm gonna kick your ass.”

“If it does, I'll let you.” Hark reached for a cotton ball. Dousing it with the peroxide, he began to lightly dab at the area surrounding the wound.

“You make it sound like you don't think I can.” Bryan grumbled. “Shit, that's cold.”

“I'm an ex-ranger amongst other things. There are very few men who can kick my ass.”

“Really?” Bryan seemed to scrutinizing him. “I mean you've got the physique for it but...I thought Native Americans didn't do the military. Something about having to give up their dual citizenship.”

Cleaning out the wound, Hark chuckled. “Who told you that? We can still hold dual citizenship in the military.”

He frowned. “I didn’t know. I thought someone told me they knew a guy who did give it up when he entered the military.”

Hark looked up at him before setting aside the cotton ball. “Then the man didn't have honor in his people’s way.” Tearing open a large butterfly bandage, he pressed it against the skin. “All done.”

“Oh...” Surprised crossed Bryan’s face. “I didn't even notice.”

“Exactly.” Hark rose and gathered up the used supplies and snapped the first aid kit shut. “Shall we finish the tour of the house before you have to leave for work?”

“Ah sure.” Standing, Bryan straightened his robe. “No problem.”

Hark frowned. “Small problem - broken glass and bare feet.” Swinging Bryan into his arms, he carried him over to the open doorway. Setting him down, he nodded. “Now we can continue. Perhaps on this tour you’ll show me where the vacuum is, so I may clean up my mess.”

“There's one in the closet. We keep it down here for the maids. They come in one day a week, and Master doesn't want them lugging a heavy vacuum up and down the stairs. They clean everything but the playroom, but if you don't want them in your room, just let me know and I'll tell the service.”

“What man in his right mind would turn down free housekeeping?”

Bryan laughed. “Yeah, no shit. Well, thanks for doctoring me up. I just have enough time to show you the rest of the house and grab lunch before I have to head into the office.”

“Lead the way.”

* * * *

“And this is our playroom.” Bryan opened the door at the top of the stairs. Hark seemed like a quiet shadow as he'd followed him around the house, declining to enter the bedroom he shared with Diachi, but taking an interest in the formal Japanese garden behind the house. “It's normally locked on cleaning days, or when we have company.”

“Then why are you showing it to me?” Hark stood two steps below him, making Hark shorter than Bryan.

“Because Master asked me to. You’re more than just a guest. You're part of our lifestyle and won't speculate what these things are for, or assume the worst if you happen to stumble onto them.”

“True.” Hark moved up a step, putting him at eye level with Bryan. “But if you feel uncomfortable having me see this, I
won’t go in. A playroom, especially a private one, is a sacred place. It’s a place where Master and sub feel safest. I won’t violate that trust.”

Bryan tipped his head. “More of your balance stuff?”

“No. More of my ‘I'd be pissed if someone entered my playroom uninvited’ stuff.” Hark crossed his arms over his chest. “Those who would dare to enter without permission would find my foot up their asses.”

Bryan laughed and stepped through the doorway. “With that expression, I can see you as a Dom. But believe me, if Master trusts you to enter our playroom, I can do no other. Come in and see where Master drives me out of my mind with pleasure.”

Hark nodded and slowly crossed the threshold.

Hark held onto his control, barely, as he crossed the threshold of the playroom. It wasn't like other dungeons he'd been in during his time in the lifestyle. Instead of dark furnishings and shadows, this room was light and airy. It had beautiful white oak dungeon furniture. The pale wood had a lustrous shine that absorbed the light until it almost glowed. The floor to ceiling windows on the east wall gave a spectacular view of the lake. The artist in him assumed sometime in its varied past, the room had probably been an artist's studio. A sense of peace washed over him, unlike the nerves he'd felt when he'd entered the playroom he'd shared with George and Teresina after their deaths.
Perhaps it's the fact this playroom is totally different

“This is probably one of my favorite places in the entire house, aside from the master bedroom.” Bryan moved in front of the windows.

Hark swallowed hard as the light outlined his form under the kimono. His dick, which had been behaving since his run-in with Bryan’s knee, perked up.
Shit…not now!

“There's just something peaceful about being up here. Like you can touch a little bit of heaven. And you can't beat the view. It's spectacular...especially in
spring when thunderstorms stir up the lake.”

Coming to stand next to Bryan, Hark nodded. Even during the winter, Lake Michigan was a sight to see. “I can only imagine.”

“Of course, I love the silk shoji-like screens Master has up here. He got them on his last trip to Japan.” Bryan nodded toward a pair in the corner. “They’re beautiful but functional at the same time. Those two there cordon off the bath. There's a sink, a claw foot tub, and toilet behind them.”

Curious, Hark slipped over to the screens and used his height to his advantage. Peeking over the top of the Japanese screen, he spotted a very immaculate bathroom and a door. “Where's the door go?”

“Oh that? The balcony. Once upon a time this used to be a studio apartment, but Master converted it all into one house. There are steps leading down into the garden.”

“I can see this being an artist's studio. The light in here is great for painting.”

Bryan groaned. “Don't remind me. We had a helleva time covering the weird abstract thing the last owner had painted on the wall over there.” He nodded to the white wall behind the St. Andrew’s Cross and bondage bed.

“I take it you're not an art fan?” He couldn't help but stare at the bare expanse. It was like a blank canvas. It had Hark itching to create. The wall needed a mural. Not the same scene as the one that had been in Alex's room. The mesa, which had reminded Hark of his childhood home in Arizona, had belonged to his second-son only. But it still didn’t stop him from itching to paint. With the minimalistic feel to the room, he could easily envision a much different scene. There was the small temple he’d run across in Japan a few years ago. The worn stone and beautiful cherry blossom trees would remind Diachi of his youth spent in his grandparents’ home. It would be a wonderful way to thank the man who'd set their differences aside and opened his home to him.
That’s if I choose to stay.

“Depends on what you call art. Do I enjoy art deco or some of the more abstract artists? Not really. But give me a good Boris Vajello and I'm a happy man.”

Hark shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. He does some amazing paintings of women.” Hark kept it to himself that he thought it was odd a gay man would be attracted to the scantily clad and voluptuous women Boris was known to create. Something must have shown on his face because Bryan sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't admire a woman's body for its beauty. It's no different than my love of cheeseburgers. I may enjoy them, but I sure the hell won’t be inviting them into my bed.”

Hark couldn't help but laugh at the defiant pout on the other man's face. “Point taken. Sorry, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.”

Bryan wandered over to the bondage bed. “Then why did you?”

Hark leaned against the wall. “Unlike you and your master, I happen to enjoy men
and
women - both in bed and out of it. So when I look at a pretty woman, I occasionally wonder how she’d look spread under me. It's going to take me some time to get used to being around men who look at women with no physical desire.”

Understanding lit up Bryan's face. “Oh. Well, if you stick around, you’ll find neither Master nor I will raise a fuss if you want to bring a woman home.”

Old memories of the last argument he'd had with Diachi tried to surface, and Hark ruthlessly pushed them back down. Now wasn't the time to rip open old wounds, so he simply nodded.
Let Bryan keep his illusions. There’s no way Diachi will ever let me bring a woman into his home.
But like his Staff Sergeant had said many times, discretion was the better part of valor. “I'm not in a relationship at the moment, but thank you.”

“Well just remember the offer is open. A month is a long time to go without sex. And Lord knows Master and I’ll be indulging. It’d be cruel to ask you abstain when we won’t.”

Hark chose to let the comment slide. The last thing he wanted to think about was how hot it would be to watch the two men make love.
Another reason this is a bad idea.
Because sure as shit if I hear them, I’m going to want to do more than watch.
He drew a deep breath. Time to change the subject before he got himself into trouble. “If the tour is over, I'd like to return downstairs. I have a few phone calls to make and an e-mail to write before lunch. I can do that on my cellphone as long as you have Wi-Fi.”

“There’s no need. If you want, use the computer in my office. Although
I’ll admit I’m curious to what it is you do which would require emailing. Do you sell your whittling online?”

Hark shook his head. “No. Whittling is just for me. I consult on some of the more difficult cases for Larson Securities.”

Surprise showed on Bryan's face, but he quickly masked it. “You work for Jude?”

“Occasionally. At the moment, they’re working on a rather nasty stalking case.”

“Stalking. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Only for the person doing the stalking. The person should’ve taken no for an answer, instead of hounding a young woman and her child.”

“What bastard harasses a woman and child?” Bryan stiffened and scowled.

Hark moved toward the steps. “A man who’s living on borrowed time. He’ll never do it again once I catch him.” He reassured Bryan before pausing by the door. As he waited for Bryan to jump down from the bondage bed, the blank wall caught his attention again. “You really should reconsider the idea of having something painted on that wall. It'd be a perfect canvas for a mural. Just looking at it has me itching to hold a brush again. I haven’t painted one in quite some time, but Gabriel asked me to do one for Sophia’s nursery at their new home as a surprise for Zhenya. It’s almost finished except for the fine details. I’m supposed to go later this week and put the finishing touches on it.”

Bryan chuckled. “Sophia’s a sweetheart, but I think we’ll skip the cuddly stuffed animals and blocks, if you don’t mind. Doesn’t quite fit the theme of our playroom.” Bryan pulled the door shut and they headed back downstairs. Bryan cursed when they entered the living room and the small grandfather clock chimed eleven. “Crap. I need to get ready for work. I’m sorry, I was able to reschedule most of my morning things, but I have a luncheon meeting in less than an hour with my uncle I couldn’t get out of. Feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. Diachi always keeps plenty of fresh veggies and cold cuts around.”

Hark nodded as the man headed toward the master suite.

“Oh, and if you want, please use my computer.” Bryan paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not password protected since I keep all my business files on my other laptop. All you should have to do is power it on.” Then he disappeared into the room. Hark couldn’t help but feel suddenly abandoned. Scolding himself for being foolish, he headed back to the basement. First things first! He had some glass to clean up, even if he decided not to stay.

* * * *

"Afternoon, Mr. Sterling. Here are your messages." His executive assistant, Sharonda, handed Bryan a stack of pink slips. She’d been with him for nearly ten years and as usual she was dressed immaculately in a neat dove gray pencil straight skirt and white lace blouse. Her auburn hair was done up in an elaborate French twist, while a pair of thin framed glasses were perched on her nose, hiding her beautiful hazel eyes. "The most important ones are on top and your uncle is waiting inside – wearing a hole in your carpet."

He nodded, accepting the pink papers. "Thank you, Shar. I'll take a look at these in a bit. Today's conference with Corbin is important. I’m only taking calls from Diachi until the meeting with the investigator is over."

As CEO and a member of the Board of Directors for Sterling Foods, the responsibility had fallen on him, and his uncle – his only living relative, to meet with the private investigator they'd hired to find out who was not only leaking company secrets, but also attempting to sabotage their newest line. It made him sick knowing someone within the company would even think about selling out their trade secrets to a competitor - especially when he took really good care of all of his people.

"Of course, Mr. Sterling.” Shar nodded. “I also took the liberty of ordering a light lunch for you and your uncle. I also included a pot of your favorite tea as well, much to Mr. Reimal’s distain."

He smiled down at her. "Yeah, my uncle thinks only women drink tea.” He shrugged his shoulders. “One day, you, my dear Sharonda, are going to be a wonderful wife to some lucky man. But hopefully not too soon."

Shar pursed her lips, then mock-scolded him. "Enough flattery, young man...get your butt in there and deal with the old man."

He chuckled. "But I'm only a year younger than you..."

She reached for the top drawer on the desk. He held his hands up. "Whoa, no need to get the ruler out. I'm going. I'm going. Just let me know when the investigator shows up."

"Will do," she answered quickly before turning back to her computer. "Now go. I have several quality checks to schedule, along with the notes to prep for your meeting with Easton later this afternoon."

“You’re the best.” She harrumphed as he slipped past her huge mahogany desk guarding the portal to his inner sanctum.

Entering his office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see his uncle, Corbin, pacing back and forth between the window and the bookcase. As usual the older man was wearing a rumpled suit and crooked tie. Sometimes Bryan wondered if the man dressed in the dark, or simply didn’t care about his appearance. It was a good thing he was the head of research and development. Rarely did he meet with anyone outside his own department. Setting his briefcase on the desk, Bryan resisted the urge to inhale the fragrant Irish Breakfast Tea sitting on the serving cart. Dealing with his uncle was the last thing he wanted to do after his unsettling visit with his Master’s former submissive. “Good afternoon, Uncle Corbin.”

"So you finally decided to drag your sorry butt into the office? If your father was here…” Corbin crossed his arms over his chest. His displeasure was evident on every line of his face, along with the way he held his body.

“I had a private matter to take care of this morning.” Opening his briefcase, he began pulling out the files he’d brought home over the weekend. “Dad would’ve understood. He was a family man first and the CEO of Sterling Foods, second.”

Just as Corbin opened his mouth to toss out the normal insults on what he considered weaknesses in his brother-in-law, there was a rap on the door.

“Mr. Tierney is here.” Sharonda ushered in a rather attractive, dark haired man. Tall, the man looked to be nearly six foot four, if Bryan were to guess, and had to be at least three hundred pounds. He could only remember ever meeting one man larger than the investigator, and it was the man he’d left sitting at his kitchen table, munching on a bologna sandwich. His dick stirred, but he shoved the thought aside. He was here to focus on work. According to the Board, and his uncle in particular, Keefer Tierney came highly recommended and was remarkably effective at his job. Bryan could only hope the investigator had found something.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tierney. Sit, please. Would you like something to drink? We have refreshments.” Bryan moved over to the serving cart.

“A soda would be great.” Keefer settled down into the chair.

Bryan nodded, retrieving a cold can of pop. After exchanging it for the file Keefer offered, he propped his hip on the corner of his desk. Setting the folder on the desk, he turned to face the man. “I’m so happy you could reschedule our meeting for this afternoon. I had an unavoidable family emergency, but this is an important matter to me, and I’ve been looking forward to your update.”

Keefer took a sip of his drink before setting it aside. “I wish I had more to report. At the moment everyone seems to be happy with the way you run the company for the most part, and I haven’t seen anything or anyone who tips off my ‘spidey sense’. There’s the usual grumbling about hours and not enough pay, but nothing out of the ordinary to worry about. One thing humans always want…is more money for less work.”

Bryan chuckled. “True.” Picking up the file on his desk, he scanned it quickly. “So you couldn’t find anything out of place?”