by Sabre Rose
The moment his father was out of earshot, Tyler turned to me. “What did he say?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know whether to tell Tyler or not. Telling would enrage him and only strain things further between him and Hamish and, no doubt, in Hamish’s eyes that would end up to be my fault. In the end, I plastered a smile on my face and decided dismissing the comments was the only action to take. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes,” Tyler said seriously. “I would.”
I shook my head, trying to downplay the effect his father’s words had. “It was nothing. Just the usual. Don’t hurt my boy and all that.”
Tyler’s eyes hardened. “He didn’t.”
I shrugged again and took a sip of the coffee he had brought me. “Good coffee.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
I sighed, letting him think I was impatient with his line of questioning. “It’s fine, Tyler. Go to your meeting. I will wait for you here.” Getting to my feet, I walked around the desk to sit in Tyler’s lap and wrap my arms around his neck. Hamish’s words floated through my head as I pressed my lips to his, draining away the pleasure that usually rippled through me. Just keep him happy until he tires of you. Pulling away from Tyler’s returned embrace, I adjusted the tilt of the image on his wall. “Why don’t I go get us some dinner while you’re at the meeting? Anything you feel like?”
Tyler fished into the top drawer of his desk and threw me some keys. “Here, take my car. I’ll meet you back at the loft as soon as I’m done. Get anything you feel like. I’m easy. And Lauren?” He waited until I looked at him. “I’m sorry. This is not how I intended our first weekend together to be. You are leaving tomorrow and I feel like I’ve only just got you. I don’t want to let go again just yet.”
I bent down to retrieve my underwear from under the desk, but Tyler, seeing what I was doing, plucked them from my fingers and shoved them into his pocket, smiling wickedly. “I don’t think you need those,” he said, coming closer. “I’m not done with you yet.” He turned back to his desk. “And remember we’ve got to attend that art gallery opening tonight.”
“What art gallery opening?”
Tyler shuffled through some papers on his desk. “Did I not tell you?” I shook my head. “I thought I told you. I’ve got to attend an art gallery opening. I only have to pop in and make an appearance. We don’t need to stay long. Sadie’s arranged a car to come and collect us at eight. That way we can have a few drinks without worrying about driving.” He stopped rifling through the papers and looked up at me. “That okay? If you’d prefer not to come, you could stay back at the loft, but I’ve promised a brief appearance.”
“I’ll come. What sort of art?”
Tyler smiled and winked. “Photography.”
* * *
I decided on Thai food, knowing Tyler had an affinity for it, and returned to the loft. I couldn’t get the television to work, well, I could get the picture or the sound, just not at the same time. I wandered around the loft, flicking through the shelf upon shelf of records, the names of Etta James, Nina Simone, Miles Davis, Ray Charles and Louis Armstrong repeating on the covers frequently. Pulling one of the records out of its cover, I toyed with the idea of placing it on the vintage turntable sitting in pride of place in the centre of the shelving, but I was too afraid of accidentally damaging it. I looked for something to read, but most of the books that were lined neatly in alphabetical order were non-fiction with only a few of the classics appearing sporadically. In the end, I gave up and flopped back onto the couch, plugging earphones into my phone and listening to the audio book I had started on the plane. It was over two hours before Tyler returned. The food had gone cold and we only had an hour before we were to be collected to attend the art gallery opening. Tyler reheated the food and we ate hurriedly before getting dressed for the occasion. Once again my lack of formal dress wear became evident as I donned on the black dress with the zipper down the full length of the back. I walked over to Tyler, swiping my hair over my shoulder and asking him to pull up the zipper. His eyes burned into my exposed skin.
“I still find it difficult thinking of the first time I did up this zipper,” he murmured into my ear. “It’s torture mixed with pleasure. Pleasure because of the way you felt under my fingers, pleasure because of the flash of skin I saw and those delightful dimples that grace your lower back. Torture because it was when you were with Gabe. Torture because I knew what he had done to you moments before.” His lips pressed against the flesh of my shoulder. “I want to devour you until there is nothing of him left. You’ve always been mine, I knew it from the moment I saw you. It just took you a little longer to realise it.”
Heat flamed between my thighs at his words, at the pressure of his mouth, but then his father’s words entered my head again. Just keep him happy until he tires of you. I tried to banish them, but they haunted me, dissolving the desire that had so quickly flamed.
“We’re going to be late,” I said, moving away from him and clasping a necklace around my neck.
Once I was done, Tyler caught my wrist between his fingers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I pulled my hand away and said those fateful words. “I’m fine.”
Sadie was waiting outside the entrance when we pulled up. Once again she was dressed from the pages of a magazine and part of me wanted to shrink back into the car and tell Tyler I would see him once he was done, but I pulled myself together and climbed out of the backseat to be greeted by her embrace.
“How was the office?” she asked.
I tossed answers around in my head and finally decided on, “Interesting.”
Sadie briefed Tyler on the artwork of the exhibitioner, showing him images and titbits from his portfolio. Tyler nodded, taking in the information and then offered one arm to me, the other to Sadie and we walked through the doors. The room was dimly lit, the only lighting coming from the spotlights on the images gracing the walls. Tyler knew almost everyone that approached him, only once having to bend to hear Sadie’s hushed explanation of the person approaching. He introduced me proudly, saying I was a talented, up-and-coming photographer. I blushed at his embellishments, but he looked at me with such pride, sliding his hand over the small of my back protectively, letting people know without words what I meant to him.
The ‘artwork’ was horrible. Each image was up-close and blurred, making the subject matter undetectable. I had no idea what half of them were, but I smiled and murmured words that I hoped sounded like approval, and prayed my lack of knowledge about the art world didn’t come across as too evident. My eyes followed the nibbles of food floating on trays around the room but I didn’t partake. My dress was already feeling too tight.
Tyler discussed the photography as though he had been a fan of the artist for years instead of only just being introduced to his work.
“It’s very subjective,” a man in a black and white suit with a protruding stomach said. He rested his hands on his belly protectively, reminding me of Billie.
Tyler nodded in agreement. “I’m sure to some it speaks to the obscurity of life, the ‘out of focus’ viewpoint of modern society.”
“Is that what you see?” the man asked.
Tyler shook his head and took a sip of his whiskey. “No. No, I do not see that at all.”
The suited man frowned. “Well, what do you see?”
Tyler stroked his chin as if pondering his words. I was momentarily distracted by the darkening stubble and the way his fingers brushed against it. The roughness of it against my cheek, my thighs. I tried to shake the thought from my mind as Tyler studied the image again. It was of stairs, or maybe a ladder, I wasn’t sure. He tilted his head to the side. “In that question lies the answer.”
The man’s brows furrowed further. “The answer?”
“Yes,” Tyler continued. “Only I can see what I can see, and that’s what this image is saying, don’t you think?”
The man nodded thoughtfully as Tyler excused him
self from the conversation, drawing me away to a secluded part of the gallery, tossing the remainder of his drink down his throat. “I can’t wait to get away from here.”
“I thought you were enjoying yourself?”
“Enjoying myself?” Tyler laughed. “All this is for show, nothing more. I can’t even understand how this can be called art. It’s nothing but out of focus, blurred photography. I’m not sure why Sadie insisted I attend.”
At the sound of her name, she appeared at his side. “At least pretend to look like you aren’t bored to death,” she hissed, smiling at a person as they walked by, nodding in Tyler’s direction.
“Do you like this?” Tyler waved his hand in the direction of the illuminated images.
Sadie scoffed. “Fuck no.”
“Why are we even here?”
“Because some of the people who do like the artwork have a lot of money lying around just waiting for someone to convince them of the next best thing to invest in. You—” Sadie stuck her finger in Tyler’s chest, “are that person.”
Tyler sighed and ran his hand through his hair, messing up the perfectly groomed style. “Lauren’s photography is much better than this.”
“It’s not like this,” I said, looking around the room. “This is art. My photography is more commercial.”
Sadie frowned, a small single line forming between her brows. “Yes and no. Your images have an art to them. You bring a humanity to your photos despite the lack of people.” Sadie ran her finger around the edge of her wine glass as she spoke. “I noticed it first with the images of the retirement home, and again now with the construction site. In most of the images, excluding maybe a few of the exterior, there is always something in them that speaks to the people responsible for the building. Whether it’s a footprint in the dust, a helmet lying discarded on the floor or, even when it was early on and there was only the steel framework, there was this one image that was black and white, lines and light, and lying on one of the beams was a glove, the tips of the fingers hanging over the edge. That image convinced me there was an art to your work. I’ve sent it to the printer actually. It’s getting enlarged to be placed on Tyler’s office wall.”
“I’ve told her she needs to go into business for herself. Stop mucking around at the coffee place,” Tyler told Sadie.
“Totally!” She gripped my arm. “You must do it. You would be a hit. People would be lining up to get you to take images for them. Actually…” She pondered for a moment. “I might know of a place that is looking—”
Tyler grabbed my hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing them gently over my knuckles. “You can’t take her away yet. She’s still working on the casino.”
“She can do both if she wants to.”
I listened as Tyler and Sadie bantered back and forth over the future of my imagined career until a woman approached, her hand resting gently on Sadie’s arm until Sadie stopped talking and excused herself, following the woman across the room to a group of people.
“You don’t like the idea of going into business for yourself?” Tyler asked.
“I think you have a lot more confidence in my abilities than I do,” I replied.
“You’ve barely said a word tonight. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded and smiled tightly before tipping my glass to my lips.
Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t I believe you?” He stepped closer, blocking me from the gathering of people. “Is it because Sadie is here?”
I shook my head, letting my eyes grow wide. “No! Not at all. I heard what you said the other night. I admit I find it a little difficult to see how a woman can be your best friend for all these years and not fall in love with you, but I believe you when you say you’re just friends.”
“So what is it then? Something has upset you ever since—” Tyler stopped, biting on his bottom lip. “Hamish,” he said bluntly. “Ever since you spoke with Hamish. What did he say?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant. “It was nothing.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
Tyler took another step forward and I took one back, bumping into the wall. “Don’t lie,” he repeated gruffly.
I swallowed the knot in the back of my throat. “It was nothing,” I said again. “Hamish just told me to keep you happy and stay away from Jake.”
Tyler’s brows shot skywards. “Jake? What’s he got to do with anything?”
I lowered my head, mumbling my words. “He said for all he knew, I could be working my way through the Thornton men. He said there was nothing to be done about Gabe, and I should just keep you happy until you tire of me.”
Tyler tilted my chin towards him, the beginning flashes of anger flickering through his steel-coloured eyes. “He said what?”
I repeated it again, this time more clearly and the tension rose through Tyler’s body. “That fucking bastard,” he hissed, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Wait here.”
I stepped after him, grabbing his arm. “Tyler, no.”
He pulled away, holding the phone to his ear. I could hear the ring tone in the background.
“Please, don’t make it worse.”
“Worse? He’s the one who—”
“Please?” I said again, gripping onto him. Words scrambled through my mind. “I think what upset me most was that’s exactly what I want to do.”
Tyler placed the phone back in his pocket. “What?”
“Make you happy. That’s why it annoyed me so much. I want to make you happy. Every part of me wants to make you happy, but somehow, by him saying it to me like an order, I’m left feeling like—”
Tyler’s hand hovered over my arm, his fingers like feathers. “In what way do you want to make me happy?” He looked down at me with such heat in his eyes, I felt myself melting into the floor as if I could dissolve right there and then.
“All the ways,” I whispered below my breath.
Tyler smiled slowly. “All the ways?”
“Yes.”
“And did he say anything about me making you happy?”
I shook my head, unable to look away. Trapped in his gaze, his fingers burned trails where they fluttered across the bare skin of my arm. His fingers slipped down until he threaded them through mine. “Come with me.”
I stumbled after him, still a little uncertain on the height of my heels. “Where are we going?” Tyler wove through the people stroking their chins and studying the fuzzy images, pulling me after him. “What are you doing?” I asked in a lowered voice.
Sadie looked over questioningly, but Tyler either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He pulled me into the bathroom and pushed me against the wall. Kissing me, he crushed his lips against mine, mumbling into my mouth, “I’m going to make you happy.”
“Tyler.” It started as a protest but ended in a moan as his mouth travelled across my skin, settling on the sensitive spot on the curve of my neck. My head fell to the side, allowing him better access.
“But,” I panted. “But what if someone…” Once again, my protest faded as he turned me around, pulling on the zipper and letting my dress fall to the white tiled floor. His hands cupped my backside before snaking around my waist and gripping onto my hips, drawing me back into him and grinding his hardness against my backside. I braced myself against the wall as his hands roamed over my body, clutching at my breasts which felt like they were straining against my bra, begging to be released. He turned me to face him and slipped his hand under the lace to rub his thumb over my now taut nipple.
“Lauren.” He breathed my name as a sigh, then, pulling my flesh from its confines, he dropped down my body, taking as much of my breast into his mouth as he could, while his hand slid over my belly and slipped past the lace until he brushed against my clit. He moaned and the sound vibrated across the flesh of my breast.
I was almost lost to desire when the door started to open. Tyler slammed it shut. “Busy,” he growled.
/> “Tyler,” I breathed, but he hushed me, his fingers sliding into my mouth where I sucked them hungrily as he dropped to his knees and let out the most delightful of sighs, his breath hot and warm against the apex of my thighs.
“Remove your underwear.”
“But what—”
The rumble that came from Tyler’s throat stopped my words. “Remove your underwear,” he said again, firmly, his voice like gravel.
For some reason, my fingers trembled as they took hold of the sides of lace and lowered them down my legs. They fell most of the way and I stepped out, Tyler collecting them from the ground and placing them in the inside pocket of his jacket, before shrugging it off his shoulders and hanging it over the hand-dryer.
“Open your legs.”
I moved them apart.
“Further,” he instructed. He applied pressure with his hands to the inside of my thighs, pushing until he was content with the distance that separated them. His eyes darkened as he dipped his head, looking up to watch my expression as he went down on me.
His tongue was like velvet. Hot velvet. Velvet fire. He teased at first, running over my flesh light as a feather, before flattening his tongue and diving between the folds. My head fell back to the wall, barely noticing when another person tried to enter. Tyler slammed his foot against the door, denying any further attempts. There was a soft exclamation of surprise as the door shut in the woman’s face.
With one knee on the floor, his foot jammed against the door, and his head buried between my thighs, I tilted my head to the side so I could see the bulge of his hardness.
“I want you inside me.”
Tyler’s hands wrapped around my legs and his fingers dug into my backside almost painfully, drawing me closer, giving him further access.
“Please,” I panted. It was an ache, a need I had been denied all day. The feel of him inside me. His steel-like hardness filling me, stretching me, ramming into me.
But Tyler shook his head, removing his tongue and replacing it with his finger. He pushed inside and I rose up the wall, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as his finger moved in and out.