Screwing the System (13 page)

Well, he remembered why. Not only had Rizzo been the most talented guitarist he’d auditioned by a longshot, but the little shit had clearly been on his best behaviour back then. He’d even found them this house and had come up with the money for the rent deposit, which really wasn’t as impressive an achievement as he made out, seeing as how his parents were loaded. However, it was only once they’d all moved in together that Rizzo had shown his bitchy side, and by that point, he’d already gained the eternal fan-boy devotion of Brett and Nasher, who’d both somehow managed to mistake his sarcasm and constant digs for a good sense of humour.

Cosmo wasn’t so easily fooled.

Fortunately, the sound of a car horn outside saved him from any further brooding, and he whipped around to see Alasdair’s pimp-mobile sitting out there, looking all luxurious and out of place. “Gotta go. See you guys on Sunday, yeah?”

“You’ll be gone that long?” Nasher sounded crestfallen, but Rizzo just grinned.

“Yeah, but I’ll be back for practice. Don’t listen to anything
he
says”—he pointed at Rizzo—“while I’m gone, okay?”

Cosmo bounded outside, grabbing his rucksack on the way, but when he reached the car door, it was locked.
What the fuck?

The window rolled down a crack. “Did you manage to follow my orders?”

“Jesus. You sodding well meant it, didn’t you?” Cosmo peered in to catch a glimpse of Alasdair, sitting there looking unreasonably sexy for such a controlling bastard.

“Of course. If I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it.”

“No need to worry. I’ve been a good boy,
boss
.” That last word came out snarkier than he’d intended, but he was still seething over Rizzo’s barbs. Still, Alasdair didn’t seem to care as he clicked the door lock open and Cosmo hopped inside, flinging himself onto the seat with a curse.

Alasdair was smirking behind those sunglasses. “How are you feeling?”

“How the bloody hell do you think I’m feeling? Frustrated as a monk in a knocking shop.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Oh no.” Alasdair pulled away from the curb. “Just think how much better that orgasm’s going to be when I finally let you have it.”

Cosmo considered what Alasdair was saying. The man had a point. Both times he’d dragged out the foreplay till Cosmo had been desperate to come, it had totally been worth it. “It’d better be,” he muttered, turning to hide his smile.

“Just sit back, relax. Tell me what you’re hoping to get out of this weekend.”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.” Alasdair sounded wounded.

“Thought this was all about what you wanted.”

“That’s bullshit. It’s about finding a way for us both to meet our needs. My pleasure is mainly in giving you what you want. In driving you out of your mind with sensation.”

“Oh.” Cosmo shifted his jeans to give his dick room to fill. “Sounds kinda fun.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Cosmo wondered if the command to leave his dick alone still applied. He laid an experimental hand over his burgeoning erection.

“Don’t even think about it.” Alasdair’s voice rumbled through him, Cosmo’s every cell responding to that deep frisson of command with a “Yes, boss.” Fuck it. He dug his fingers into the leather of the seat instead, and while Alasdair pulled out onto busy Hughenden Road, he called up Alasdair’s question.

“What I’m hoping for? I want a shed-load of amazing orgasms, a chance to chill out and play your guitar, and a look at your dungeon.”

“My dungeon? What makes you think I have a dungeon? Sounds like something horribly medieval.”

“Okay, a
playroom
or whatever you want to call it. Somewhere you keep all the whips and chains and stuff. You must have a room kitted out with bits of equipment, right?”

“Nope. Never saw the need.”

Cosmo squinted at him. “Seriously?”

“You don’t need all that to have a great scene.”

“You mean you don’t actually want a dungeon?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I’m not. I just… I dunno. I expected there to be a soundproofed room full of scary stuff somewhere, that’s all. You must be able to afford one.”

“To be honest, I don’t find rooms full of scary stuff to be particularly sexy.”

“No?”

“No.” Alasdair kept his eyes on the road, but Cosmo could feel his full attention on him. “It’s not about the equipment for me. It’s about the headspace. It’s about being in control without all that other stuff to help out. For instance, when we get back, I’m going to drive you out of your mind using nothing more than a couple of lengths of rope and my skill. I prefer the challenge of that, of being resourceful.”

“Huh.” Cosmo could see that, sort of. Maybe Alasdair was a survivalist at heart, underneath the veneer of expensive clothing. He tried to imagine them both sitting around a campfire, eating squirrel like Bear Grylls. The thought brought a smile to his face.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alasdair continued. “I’ve got plenty of toys. Good ones too, but not enough to need a whole room for them.”

“So no mysterious door I’m forbidden to enter on pain of death?”

“Like Bluebeard? You love your fairy tales, don’t you?”

“Nan used to tell them to me. The proper old-style ones, with scary stuff happening and the villains getting punished by having to dance in red-hot shoes or being rolled down a hill in a barrelful of nails.”

“Ouch. Your nan sounds like fun.”

Although Alasdair’s tone was hard to read, Cosmo took it at face value. “Yeah, she is. I’m going to need to get back on Sunday afternoon so I can go round for tea. You could come too.”

Shit. Why had he said that? He didn’t want to lay out his whole sorry background for Alasdair’s condescension just yet, which was bound to come out in the open if the man met Sylvia. Even if she didn’t spill the beans herself—which was unlikely, given her penchant for gossip—Alasdair would be bound to piece together enough clues from the photos on display around her flat.

Cosmo looked up to find Alasdair staring in his direction while they waited at the traffic lights.

“Thanks, but I’ll be busy. Besides, I don’t do the family thing.”

“Okay. Probably for the best.” Shit, now Alasdair probably thought he was angling for a serious relationship. But then wasn’t that what Alasdair was after with his request for Cosmo to move in with him? No, he reminded himself. Alasdair just wanted a convenient arse to fuck when he got home from work. Cosmo had to remember that. Falling head over heels for the man would be a really dumb thing to do. He’d have to stay vigilant. Alasdair most definitely was not his knight in shining armour.

“Stay sharp,” he whispered to himself.

Chapter Ten

Again, when they arrived at Alasdair’s house, Cosmo was ordered to strip in the entrance hall. This time, however, it wasn’t such a shock, and he relaxed while waiting for Alasdair to return from wherever he disappeared off to. Well, he relaxed as much as he could while his body was thrumming with the thought of their impending activities. Being tied up with rope for real this time? Alasdair had better not take revenge on Cosmo’s attempted interview trickery with the rope burns. But no, he trusted Alasdair to look after him. The man hadn’t given him any reason not to so far.

After a long fifteen minutes, Alasdair walked down the stairs, and Cosmo’s breath caught in his throat. He’d changed his clothing too and now wore those leather trousers again, but this time with nothing on his top half other than the tattoos and a studded leather harness. Bloody hell, he looked like a Tom of Finland wet dream. Alasdair had clearly had a quick shower as his short hair lay in damp tufts, and as he walked closer, Cosmo’s body hummed like a giant tuning fork, vibrating to frequency: Alasdair. The man held something dark in his hand, but Cosmo couldn’t make out any details.

Alasdair walked around him again, and when Cosmo felt a fingertip land in the middle of his back, he straightened up as best he could. Alasdair’s grunt of approval was sweeter to his ears than a perfect seventh chord.

“Hands behind your back, boy.”
 

Cosmo complied and felt something supple but unyielding close around his wrists one by one. Leather cuffs? Alasdair fiddled around for a moment, and when Cosmo tried to move his hands, he found the cuffs were attached with something that made a faint clinking sound. Kinky. “I thought you were going to tie me up with rope.”

“Patience, boy, that’s coming. This is just a little preliminary to get you in the right headspace.”

Alasdair’s hands moved upwards, something soft wrapped around Cosmo’s eyes, and the world went dark.

“What are you doing?” Cosmo asked, his palms turning slippery with sweat as Alasdair fussed with the knot at the back of his head.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Blindfolding me.” That was too bloody obvious, wasn’t it, and when Alasdair didn’t reply, Cosmo filled the black void with more words. “You’re trying to scare me.”

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

“No.”

“Good, because I’m not trying to scare you.” Alasdair’s voice tickled against Cosmo’s neck. Every point where their bodies almost touched sang with sensation. The rhythm of their breath, Cosmo’s fast and shallow, Alasdair’s more measured but still excited, drowned out the slow ticking of the grandfather clock. The scent of their combined arousal filled Cosmo’s nostrils, almost choking him in hot musk.

Suddenly, Cosmo understood. “You’re trying to make me more aware of everything.”

“That’s definitely a part of it.” Alasdair moved away, and Cosmo wanted to reach out and bring him back as an anchor in the blinding dark, but the cuffs prevented that. Then Alasdair’s hand closed around his erection.

“Oh God.”

“This way.” Alasdair tugged firmly, and Cosmo realised it was a choice between follow or risk being pulled along by his foreskin. He took a few stumbling steps, acutely aware of his lack of bearings and of that large hand squeezing his dick so tightly it ached.

“Careful now, we’ve reached the stairs.”

It took an age to climb that staircase. The risers must have multiplied, and Cosmo had visions of them climbing the wrong way up an escalator, the steps rolling out above them in a never-ending reel. Every time he lifted a foot to the next step, he risked tumbling backwards, with only Alasdair’s grip on his dick holding him steady. His body drenched itself with sweat and his heart pounded, but the fear only seemed to heighten his arousal.

“You’re doing great. Just a few more,” Alasdair’s voice rumbled, burgundy in the blackness. Cosmo’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t speak. He tried nodding, but that turned out to be a mistake. His sense of balance faltered, and he swayed dangerously.

“Help!”

Strong hands gripped him around the shoulders. “Hush now, you’re fine. I’ve got you.”

Cosmo collapsed forwards and allowed himself to be lifted, cradled against Alasdair’s broad chest and supported by one arm behind his shoulders and another under his knees. The leather harness Alasdair wore dug into his side, and Cosmo’s sweat made them slip against each other, but it was still the most comfortable he’d ever been. He pressed a kiss to Alasdair’s chest, and when the man didn’t object, layered on more, wondering which of those many tattoos he was licking. When Alasdair began walking, Cosmo didn’t much care where they went. Right here, right now was just about perfect.

An increase in warmth and a softening of the way Alasdair’s footsteps echoed alerted Cosmo to the fact they had entered a room, but he couldn’t have said which of the many ones it was. Alasdair came to a standstill and lowered Cosmo until his flank met a soft texture. A towel, most likely. This was confirmed when Alasdair wrapped it around him and scrubbed the clammy sweat from his skin.

“How are you feeling?” Alasdair asked.

“Honestly?” Cosmo’s voice cracked, and the next thing he knew, a bottle of cool water pressed against his lips. He drank deeply. “Thanks.”

Alasdair helped lift him up to sitting. “Onto your knees. Spread them wide like before. No slouching.”

Cosmo did his best to comply despite the awkward position of his arms. Music started up, a classical piano piece at a low volume, the notes filling his head and hypnotising him.

“I asked you a question.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a reminder, and Cosmo tried to recall what it had been, but his brain seemed to have turned into porridge.

“How did that make you feel?” Alasdair prompted.

“Scared.”

“How scared?”

Cosmo gave it some thought. “Not terrified. More like exhilarated. Like being on a rollercoaster or something. I knew you were looking out for me, so it wasn’t really like I was going to fall.”

“Good. I’d never harm you. You know that, don’t you?”

Cosmo nodded fast, and this time the disorientation only made him sway a little. Damn it, he wanted to get a good eyeful of Alasdair. It’d been too long since the last time they’d been together. “Can I see you now, please?”

“Not yet. I want you to concentrate on the sensations. I want you to keep talking to me. Tell me exactly what you’re feeling.”