Bound to Liberty

by Kiru Taye

  “I accept your condition.” His stomach knotted as he said the words and saw the smirk on Jibril’s face.

  Worse than not ever visiting the palace again was the thought that he had probably just given Jibril the biggest ammunition over him, the impending proof that he was not a member of the Danladi clan.

  Chapter Nine

  The soft hiss of the opening door triggered James into alertness. He shifted his bum on the sofa, and his grip on the remote control tightened briefly.

  In his left peripheral vision, Ethan strode into the living area of the stylish hotel suite, their residence for the next ten days.

  Aware of the strength of the heart pounding in his chest, he made a conscious decision not to stare at the man whose presence made his skin flush with heat. A reaction that was getting old fast since it started when they first met weeks ago.

  “What’s your plan for the week?” Ethan’s voice was rich and mellow. He stopped beside the sofa.

  “Why do you ask?” James swallowed, and he jabbed his thumb on the arrow button of the device in his hand. The widescreen TV mounted on the opposite wall flicked through channels rapidly.

  Apprehensive, his skin grew cold, and he shifted again, unable to get comfortable.

  How could he explain his real purpose to Ethan?

  He was in London to forget the nightmare that was his life—his broken relationship with Kezie, the looming investigation into his paternity, and the nasty stalker he’d recently acquired.

  He wanted to spend the week knee-deep in the glorious Soho nightlife—partying, getting wasted and getting laid, in any order he could have them.

  He wanted the freedom of walking into bars and clubs where other men like him existed, where he didn't have to worry about the consequences or be condemned for his actions.

  Revealing any of his plans to Ethan would be outing himself as a gay man, and James wasn’t ready.

  Ethan was a stranger, raised to acquaintance status because of his existing connection to Kamali. Henry had recruited him to investigate James’s stalker and to act as his security in the interim. James hated having a minder, but he went along with the arrangements to keep members of his family happy.

  However, he had to think of a way to get rid of the bodyguard.

  After all, he’d travelled previously without security and had come to no harm. The psycho who had sent him those horrible messages was in Nigeria and couldn’t harm him while he visited London.

  “I want to make sure our plans are aligned.” Ethan came into view as he crossed the room.

  He wore a long-sleeved grey T-shirt with three buttons upfront, black denim trousers and black Chelsea boots.

  Big, buff, badass, and so goddamned sexy, Ethan had to be the hottest man alive, mainly because of his resemblance to Omari Hardwick.

  James must be paying for sins committed in another life, now burdened with a doppelgänger of his guilty pleasure screen crush for the next two weeks, who hovered like a shadow.

  Lips parted, hands moistened, James’s gaze hooked on the sex-on-legs. He tracked the man’s fluid catlike movements.

  For a tall, muscled person, Ethan’s steps were light and his stride graceful. The sofa depressed as he settled on it.

  Shit.

  Hairs rose on James’s arms and nape. His breath quickened.

  Why did the man sit beside James? There were other choices; a matching upholstered armchair, or one of the seats around the dining table.

  Instead, Ethan had deposited his tight buns right next to him.

  As if he hadn’t enough temptation when he had to deal with sharing the same air with the man, now said man was within touching distance.

  James’s fingers tingled with the need to squeeze the bodyguard’s bulging biceps, and to stroke the trimmed hair along his chin and jawline. His mouth watered with the urge to taste the man’s skin.

  Such a lousy idea.

  Because like Mr. Hardwick, Ethan had a wife, kids, the whole kit and caboodle, which proved he was hetero.

  There was no way James would tangle with another man who would treat him like a side dish rather than the main course, even if the person were the stuff of his fantasies.

  After Kezie turned coat, got engaged to a woman, and broke James’s heart in the process, he’d vowed not to even look at another bloke who was remotely into women.

  However, after his last session with his psychotherapist he’d realised his fear was about being betrayed again. Whether the person was gay or bi didn’t matter. He just couldn’t go through the devastating heartache again.

  He needed a man who would love him and only him. Forever.

  This led back to why he now sat on a settee right next to a guy who made his pulse pound in his ears and his body throb with need. A man he couldn’t have.

  “James? Hello?”

  He blinked rapidly until he realised, he’d been staring at Ethan since he sat down without responding to his comment. His face and ears burned.

  Only a few hours into the vacation and he seemed unable to control himself. How would he cope for the rest of the time?

  He coughed and cleared his throat as he turned to face the TV, trying to collect his thoughts and return to their conversation.

  “I’m meeting up with some friends tomorrow. Aside from that, I have no concrete plans,” he said in a casual tone, trying not to shift in his seat. His grip on the arm of the sofa tightened.

  “Okay. What about tonight?” Ethan’s voice lacked suspicion.

  Perhaps he hadn’t noticed the way James had been gawping at him.

  “Oh. It’s dinner and an early night for me.” James rubbed his nose and kept his gaze averted so Ethan wouldn’t detect the untruth. “But if you want to go out, you should. I’ll be alright in the hotel by myself.”

  If his minder went out, James wouldn’t have to worry about the man monitoring him all night.

  “No, I’m fine. It was a long flight. It makes sense for us to have some rest,” Ethan replied.

  “Okay,” James said, hiding his disappointment.

  He would have to revert to plan B to escape Ethan.

  ***

  Four hours later, James sat on the mattress in his hotel room, listening out for sounds from the living area.

  Over an hour ago, he’d said goodnight to Ethan. Then he’d come into the bedroom, used the shower, and changed into a fitted long-sleeved black silk shirt, matching trousers, and black leather shoes with red soles.

  Ready to go partying, all he needed was for Ethan to go to bed.

  No sounds came through.

  He sucked in a deep breath, puffed it out and held the next one as he opened the door a crack.

  Silence and darkness encouraged him to pull the slab wide and step out. The door leading to Ethan’s room stayed shut.

  Pulse racing, James crept through the lounge towards the main exit as quickly and quietly as he could and tried not to bump into any furniture. Light filtered through the window, aiding his escape.

  Creak.

  Horrified at the likelihood Ethan would catch him acting like a thief breaking into a house and, worse, reprimand him like a child for trying to sneak out in the middle of the night, he froze and held his breath.

  Adrenaline spiked through him, and his hands trembled. Cocking his ear, he listened and hoped Ethan wouldn’t come out of his room.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d snuck around like this, probably back in boarding school. The torment of those days hadn’t been good for his peace of mind.

  Since then, he’d managed to find equilibrium between maintaining a relationship with the man he loved and hiding his sexuality from the family he adored.

  Until Kezie ruined everything.

  Damn him.

  A surge of anger went through James and propelled him forward, making him reckless. He reached the exit, undid the latch and pulled it open.

  A rush of breath came out of him when the door shut behind him, and Ethan hadn’t
apprehended him.

  He hurried down the corridor and pressed the button for the lift. A grin spread on his face after he entered the shiny metal box without interruption.

  Minutes later, he strode across the lobby of the hotel and exited onto the wide pavement. Orange glows illuminated Hyde Park on the other side of Park Lane.

  He turned left into a side street and followed the instructions of the navigation app on his phone that would take him through Mayfair, across Regent Street and into Soho.

  The first establishment he entered was a busy music lounge on a narrow strip. It wasn’t huge, but the place looked packed with a young and fashionable crowd. It had maroon leather seats and wooden tables, exposed brick walls and multi-coloured lighting, loud conversations and lively entertainment.

  James’s mouth dried out, and his senses heightened.

  The place was full of men—white, black, brown, mixed, you name it.

  For the first time in weeks, James didn’t feel under siege.

  Here, no one would judge him for his sexuality. No one would condemn him.

  He wasn’t a freak or an abnormality.

  He was simply a man out to party the night away.

  Every person he passed on the way to the bar smiled at him. One winked at him. Another said, “Hello, handsome.”

  James couldn’t help the wide grin as he approached the busy counter, and his hands shook a little. He sucked in a breath and steadied himself.

  Then he raised his hand, waited until one of the barmen reached him, ordered a double vodka and Cola and paid.

  He shifted to allow someone else to get to the bar and recognised the smiling charming stranger who had called him ‘handsome’, a white man with black hair brushed to the side and back.

  “Double vodka and Coke.” The server placed a cocktail glass filled with ice and dark caramel liquid on the counter.

  “Thank you.” James grabbed the drink and turned to walk away.

  Charming Stranger leaned close, his mouth close to James’s left ear.

  “My name is Declan. What’s yours?” He spoke with a brogue, not that James was an expert on accents.

  “I’m James,” he replied, keeping his tone high enough to have a conversation while loud R&B music played in the background.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” Declan said, leaning back to look at him.

  “It’s my first time,” James said. “We’re going to have to move from here so others can reach the bar.”

  “Of course, this way.” Declan moved, squeezing through the crowd.

  James followed him until they reached a corner close to the dance floor. There were no free seats so they stood, backs to the wall. For a few minutes, they watched the other revellers and sipped their drinks.

  James wondered at his luck for meeting someone so quickly after arriving at the bar.

  Dating was new to him.

  Usually, when he went to a party or nightclub, Kezie would be with him. Even in Kezie’s absence, he’d never gone out with the sole purpose of bedding a stranger.

  His time in London was limited. His life was in Nigeria, and he didn’t believe in long-distance relationships. The shit with Kezie had taught him that ‘out of sight’ was ‘out of mind.’

  So, anyone he met here would have to be a hook-up and, at best, a holiday fling.

  “Your accent, I can’t place it,” Declan said, leaning in again.

  The music must be set so high to encourage partygoers to invade each other’s personal spaces and have intimate conversations. It was a little overwhelming for someone like James who wasn’t used to partying with unknown persons.

  “I’m Nigerian,” James replied, trying to keep some distance.

  “I thought you could be West African, but I wanted to be sure. I’m Irish. I got a new job and came to London about six months ago. What about you?”

  “I’m only here for a visit. Arrived—” he glanced at his wristwatch and noted it was past midnight, “—yesterday morning.”

  “Would you like to dance?” Declan asked, their bodies almost making contact.

  James stiffened, suddenly aware that the man could be his first sexual encounter since Kezie. The whole scene was moving along at a fast pace. He hadn’t thought he would meet someone within minutes of arriving at the bar, on his first night in London. Was he ready?

  He gulped down his drink and deposited the glass on the nearest table.

  Dancing with a man in a nightclub was on his bucket list, and he wouldn’t miss the opportunity.

  “Of course,” he replied before following Declan onto the busy space.

  The track was upbeat and soulful. The double shot of vodka relaxed James, and he swayed his body in rhythm without a care of who could see him with another man.

  Declan faced him, trying to match his movements.

  The music changed to a slow number. Declan stepped into his space and pressed their bodies together. He was muscular and hard, and he smelled of musk and cologne.

  James hadn’t been this close to a man in weeks since his break-up with Kezie. He missed the familiarity and intimacy, the hardness and scent of a man.

  Sighing, he relaxed in the man’s arms, and they ground against each other. Arousal flowed through him, aided by the buzz of alcohol.

  Declan brushed his palm against James’s hardening bulge and whispered in his ear, “I can help you with this. Would you like that?”

  James suppressed a groan and breathed out, “Yes.”

  Declan took his hand and dragged him through the crowd, down a corridor and into the gents. Then he pushed the door of an empty stall and turned to pull James inside.

  Stomach tensed, James resisted. This wasn’t exactly what he’d planned. He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I thought we were going to your place or something.”

  “Or something.” Declan chuckled. “There’s no time to get to my flat. I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

  He tugged James’s hand again, who didn’t budge, still unsure.

  Was this how the club scene worked out here? He’d read about people having sex in the toilets, but he’d never done it before.

  He wasn’t looking for a romantic liaison, but this place wasn’t sanitary.

  He opened his mouth to mention the unhygienic location. The squeak of the door leading back to the club indicated someone was entering.

  Not wanting to get caught in flagrante, he rushed into the cubicle with Declan and shut the door.

  Declan took it as a green light and pressed his lips against James’s while his hand reached for the zipper of his trousers and tugged down.

  James opened his mouth to tell the man he didn’t want to have sex in here.

  “James!” A voice called out from beyond the cubicle door.

  He froze as his heart nearly exploded in his chest.

  Shit! He recognised the voice.

  Ethan was here.

  How did the man know he'd left the hotel? How had the man found him?

  Frowning, Declan pulled back.

  James pressed his hand against Declan’s mouth and shook his head, indicating for the man to remain silent. He didn’t want Ethan to know he was in the toilet with someone.

  If he didn’t say anything, perhaps his bodyguard would assume he wasn’t here.

  “James, I know you’re in there. You might as well talk to me,” Ethan’s loud voice echoed off the tiled walls.

  James covered his hot face with his palm and prayed for a sinkhole.

  Chapter Ten

  James stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do. This wasn’t how he’d planned for the evening to go—sandwiched between the door of a toilet cubicle and a mere acquaintance, his fly open, while his bodyguard stood just a few feet on the other side of the flimsy barrier.

  He couldn’t stay in here forever. Not with the confused way Declan looked at him.

  If Ethan kept calling his name, then how many more people who entered the gents would g
et curious about what was going on and try to investigate?

  Shit. Where was that giant sinkhole when he needed it?

  Declan moved James’s palm and mouthed, “What’s going on?”

  “Just wait,” James replied silently, using hand gestures as well as his lips. He pulled his zipper up and indicated again. “Stay.”

  Declan leaned forward and whispered in James’s ear. “You can ignore him, you know.”

  James shook his head. “I can’t. Wait until I leave the gents before you come out.”

  The little he knew about Ethan proved he was a determined and persistent man. He wouldn’t go away without James in tow.

  James had to think about how to explain his situation quickly with as little embarrassment as possible, although his cheeks were already aflame and heat flushed through his body.

  He turned, tugged the bolt securing the enclosure, opened it and stepped out.

  From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ethan standing at the right end of the long row of wash basins. He didn’t look directly at the man as he strode to one of the sinks, ran the tap and washed his hands.

  “What are you doing here?” James asked in a nonchalant voice, trying to project a calm exterior while his stomach did the Macarena.

  “I should ask you that question.” Ethan’s voice had a crisp, stern quality, reminding James of the day he’d walked into James’s room and found him arguing with Kezie.

  And just like that day, James’s temper flared. “I don’t owe you any explanations about my movements. I’m an adult capable of deciding when and where to go.”

  “Lying about your plans for the evening is not an adult thing,” Ethan retorted, bulging arms crossed over his chest and feet wide apart in an intimidating pose. “Sneaking out of the hotel like a naughty teenager to go to a nightclub is not an adult thing.”

  James’s face heated up again. He opened his mouth to tell Ethan to piss off when the cubicle opened and Declan stepped out.

  “What’s going on?” Declan asked.

  “I’m sorry, Declan.” James sighed with resignation. This was not his night.