by K. C. Wells
“The group is ready to approach all the property owners with an offer, and it’s generous enough that we expect them all to sign within a few weeks. That would be your first task—to put a team together to visit each owner. Then once everyone has signed, it’s full speed ahead.”
Xavier peered at the artist’s impression on the screen. He had to admit, it looked amazing. Then he looked again. There was something familiar about the buildings at the far end of one of the streets. “You said Soho. Where, exactly?”
Mr. Church’s gray eyes gleamed. “Donovan Street and Prater Court. They run parallel, so we’d be talking the block they encompass. If this goes well, there are plans to rejuvenate more of the area.” He snorted. “It’s not as if Soho isn’t crying out to be rejuvenated.”
Xav’s heart leaped into his throat. Heath’s bookshop was on Donovan Street. Oh fuck.
Church narrowed his gaze. “I’m not detecting a great deal of enthusiasm here. Is there a problem, Xavier? If you’re not up to handling this, then we can turn it over to a more senior person.”
Rock—meet hard place.
Ever since he’d started working for the company, Xavier had done his best to get noticed. He wanted Church’s office, the staff under him, the power he wielded. For fuck sake, Xav was a Dom, and for him it was all about power and control in every aspect of his life. This is what I wanted. What I’ve worked for. Because if he brought this off, his future with the company was looking even better.
But what about Heath?
Xav took a sharp breath. Whoever said never mix business and pleasure had nailed it.
“No, sir. I can handle it. When do we start?”
Heath would understand. He had to.
BY LUNCHTIME, Xavier had accomplished nothing. He’d sat at his desk, staring at the files Mr. Church had sent him, his mind going over and over the situation. His earlier resolution had withered away, leaving him with doubts.
I can’t do this. That shop is Heath’s life. He’s poured everything into it.
But what was the alternative? Tell Church he was going to pass on the project? That wouldn’t change a thing. Someone else would step into Xav’s shoes in a heartbeat and get the job done. And Xavier would be lucky to ever be given such an opportunity again.
That was Plan A out of the question, then. As of the moment, Xav couldn’t think of a Plan B. Because he was pretty sure going to the development group and saying “Please don’t do this, because you’re going to break my boyfriend’s heart and ruin his life” wasn’t a viable option.
The only way he could see this working was if Heath wanted to move, and Xavier couldn’t see that scenario taking place. Besides, Church was expecting him to assemble a team and send them out to share the good news. Xavier could maybe stall for a week while he came up with a plan.
Could I persuade Heath that the grass might be greener somewhere else? He’d need to come up with some pretty serious reasons for doing so.
And time definitely was not on Xav’s side.
When his phone pinged, he peered at the screen and his heart sank. It was from Heath.
Thinking of me?
Xavier’s chest constricted. If you only knew. He was on the point of ignoring it but realized Heath didn’t deserve that. Of course. When am I not thinking of you?
Heath’s reply was a GIF of a blushing skunk.
And then there was the matter of those three little words. Heath hadn’t mentioned them over the weekend, and that brought Xav to the conclusion that maybe Heath had said it when he wasn’t fully conscious. Maybe it really had been a sleep-induced slip of the tongue.
Maybe.
If Xavier couldn’t do something about this project, then he could kiss goodbye to any chance of him and Heath being together. Because nothing said I love you like a compulsory purchase order to knock down your premises and build swanky new apartments in their place.
Yeah, he’d nailed it. Whichever way he looked at it, Xavier was fucked.
What he needed was a way to do his job and keep his man.
What I really need is some advice, from someone who understands these things. And that meant only one person. Xav scrolled through his contacts and composed a quick text. Got a minute?
Apparently Vic was on his lunch break too. “Hey, why isn’t your nose to the grindstone? You should be too busy to talk to me.” In the background, Xavier could hear the drone of traffic.
“Where are you?”
“Assessing a park in need of a little TLC. What’s up? I only saw you last night at the club.”
Xavier sighed. “Have you got time after work to meet up? Not the club. A pub, maybe.”
There was a pause. “Okay, now I’m worried. Since when do we ever do that?”
“Since I need to bend someone’s ear, and I don’t want to be overheard.” Who knew who might be listening at the club? Xavier didn’t want to chance this getting back to Heath.
“Can you be at the South Bank for seven o’clock? I can meet you there for maybe half an hour, but that’ll be all. Rob’s cooking tonight, and I don’t want to give him an excuse to bitch at me because I was late home for dinner.”
Xavier couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Just who’s the Dom in this relationship?”
Vic snorted. “We’ve both been around long enough to know they have us wrapped around their little fingers. So…. Giraffe at seven—that work for you? I picked it because I’m working near there today.”
“I can do that. See you then. And, Vic? Thanks.”
Vic huffed. “Don’t thank me. Now you’ve got me intrigued, and I want answers.” He disconnected.
Xavier stared at the screen. There were several hours to go until then, and he had to look like he was busy in case Mr. Church decided to drop in on him.
Busy doing nothing.
XAVIER SAT outside the restaurant in the patio area, shutting out the noise and bustle of people as they walked past. They were probably going home after a long day’s sightseeing, or on their way to a theater, or meeting friends for drinks on a lovely summer’s evening.
Inside Xavier’s heart, it certainly didn’t feel like summer.
“Well, that was a heavy sigh.”
Xav looked up to find Vic standing next to him, a denim jacket slung over one shoulder, his bald head gleaming in the evening light. Xav gestured to the empty seat facing him, and when the waiter arrived all of one nanosecond later, Vic ordered a lime and soda.
He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded. “Okay. What have you done?”
Xav regarded him with mild surprise. “Who says I’ve done anything?”
Vic rolled his eyes. “Just now, you sounded like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. So something’s going on.” The waiter reappeared with his drink, and Vic drained about a third of it.
Xavier took a deep breath. “Before I tell you, I need your promise that you will not share this with Rob. Or anyone at the club, for that matter.”
Vic stilled. “You got it. Now talk.”
Xavier told him everything, including how important the project would be for his career.
Vic listened, occasionally sipping his lime soda. When Xav finished, he shook his head. “So basically, you’re screwed.”
Xavier glared at him. “Yeah. That’s really helpful.”
Vic held up his hands. “Hey, that was my instant reaction. If you want helpful, you’re going to have to give me some time. Sarcastic, I can do in a heartbeat. Miracles? Yeah, they take time.”
“There has to be a way where everyone ends up happy,” Xav murmured. Of course, he couldn’t see what that could be right at that moment, but there had to be.
“Well, at least I can see why you’d want me to keep this quiet. You don’t want Heath getting to hear about this.”
“He’s going to have to, eventually,” Xavier said. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t see a way around it. Heath was going to lose his beautiful shop, his dream.
And Xavier was going to lose Heath.
“Let me have a think,” Vic said at last. “There has to be something we can do, at least to stop the erection of more unwanted apartment blocks. How much time do you have before you need to get going on this?”
Xavier snorted. “You don’t want to know.”
Vic winced. “That bad, huh? Then we need to get our skates on.” He drained the rest of his glass, got up, and flung a fiver onto the table. “I’ll get these. You’re already too traumatized to be digging into your wallet as well.” He leaned across and squeezed Xavier’s shoulder. “Try not to worry too much. We’ll come up with something, you’ll see.” And with that, Vic strode out of the patio area and along the bank of the river.
Xavier finished his own drink, made sure there was enough for a tip, and got up from the table. As he started walking toward the bridge, his phone pinged. He peered at the screen and inwardly groaned.
Want to come round here tonight?
Stupid question. And any other night, he’d have replied in a heartbeat. But right then he couldn’t face Heath.
Sorry. A lot of work on this evening. Another night?
There was a pause before Heath’s response appeared. Okay. Wednesday night. I have a plan. (Evil cackle)
Xavier sighed heavily. “I wish I did,” he muttered.
Chapter Eighteen
“SO HOW was your day?” Heath quipped as he placed two mugs of coffee on the table. The lighthearted question didn’t get quite the reaction he’d hoped for—Xavier stared at his hands clasped in his lap, as though he hadn’t heard a word.
Heath sighed inwardly. Xavier’s introspection was only adding to his disquiet, which hadn’t dissipated since their weekend together. He’d tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that Xavier didn’t have to say the words, that it was still early days, but he couldn’t rid himself of the hurt.
I told him I loved him, and he didn’t respond.
Heath had kicked himself the next morning for blurting it out, but it was too late—the words were out there now, a drowsily uttered declaration that either Xavier had not heard, which seemed unlikely, or had ignored, which was worse. And Heath didn’t know what to do about it. Confronting Xavier felt a little… extreme, but at the same time, just waiting to see what—if anything—happened next was excruciating.
Is it me? Did I say it too soon? Is that what he’s thinking?
“Hmm? Did you say something?”
Heath shook his head. “About five minutes ago. Where is your head tonight? Wait—I think I know. Still back at your office, or wherever it is you work.” He grinned. “You’re very secretive about that. Makes me think that one day I’m going to find a briefcase with several false passports, various disguises, and a gun in a secret compartment.”
Xavier made a vague attempt at a smile, and Heath’s heart sank. Whatever was going on in Xavier’s head, it wasn’t good if Heath couldn’t break through with humor.
“Actually, what’s been on my mind is you,” Xavier announced suddenly.
“I thought you said you think about me all the time,” Heath joked. Inside, he was glad of the change.
“I’ve been thinking about your business.” Xavier reached for his mug of coffee. “Have you ever considered setting up a shop in a different area? One with the opportunity for greater footfall?”
Heath shrugged. “Sure, but let me develop this one before I get started on building my business empire.” He chuckled. “One shop at a time makes more sense, don’t you think?”
“I wasn’t talking about buying another property. I was thinking more along the lines of selling up, getting what you can for your shop, and then relocating to a far more profitable postcode. You know, one where you actually get people walking past your door?”
For a moment Heath was stunned into silence. “I do okay,” he said slowly. “In fact, I’m doing better than ever.”
“I’m sure you are. I was just thinking that if we put you in the right location, with your drive and creativity, you could have a huge success on your hands.”
Heath had no idea where this was all coming from, but he didn’t like it.
“There are lots of things I can do right where I am if I want to see more profit. I could organize more book signings, to really put the shop on the map. I could look into better advertising.” He cocked his head to one side. “And I get plenty of people walking past my door.”
“I’m sure you do.” Xavier took another drink of his coffee. “But there are some areas of London where you’d get a constant stream of people walking through your door, never mind past it.”
“What’s got you thinking like this?” Heath demanded, his stomach churning.
“You know what? Never mind. Just me ruminating on stuff.” Xavier gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Now, when you texted me about this evening, you said you had a plan.”
“Hmm? Oh. That.” It was the last thing on Heath’s mind, after Xavier’s unexpected suggestions.
“Well, it can’t have been that important if you’ve forgotten about it already.” There was a familiar twinkle in Xavier’s eyes that lifted some of Heath’s present anxiety.
“It was just an idea I had for a scene, that’s all.”
Xavier widened his eyes. “Just an idea? Don’t make it sound like it’s unimportant.” He put down his mug and twisted to face Heath. “Tell me.”
“It was just… of all the scenes we’ve done so far—the Byerley and Malcolm ones—they’ve been scenarios where Byerley has put Malcolm in new situations, like the stable.”
Xavier nodded. “With you so far.”
“Well, let’s assume… that Malcolm has fucked up. He’s forgotten to do something. Or he’s embarrassed Byerley. Something major enough that Byerley feels the need to… punish him.” Heath swallowed.
Xavier regarded him steadily. “Have you thought about ways Byerley might punish him?”
Heath nodded, his heartbeat racing a little as he tried not to focus on the images in his head. “I was thinking he might… tie him up. Or tie him down. Either would be good.”
Okay, he’d gone there. He’d finally given voice to a fantasy that had occupied a good many of his nights. Now all Xavier had to do was bring it to life.
INSIDE, XAVIER was thrilled to see Heath push his boundaries. It was up to Xavier to focus them on the specifics and see just how far out of his comfort zone Heath was willing to step.
“We can do that,” he said slowly, an image forming in his head. “Maybe not handcuffs, but something more… improvised on Byerley’s part.”
Heath bit his lip. “You have an idea, don’t you?”
Xavier smiled. “I do. Something that’s easy to set up too.” He had the perfect thing at home. “But tying Malcolm up… is that the extent of the punishment?” He waited with interest to see Heath’s reaction, his instincts kicking in. Heath knows exactly what he wants. What remained was to see if he had the courage to share it.
“That depends. Where might Byerley tie him up?”
Xavier stroked his chin. “I was thinking he might surprise Malcolm in his bedroom. Late at night.”
Heath’s breathing quickened. “What if he… takes something to Malcolm’s arse?”
“Did you have something in mind?” The idea of marking Heath’s round, firm arsecheeks sent a ripple of anticipation through Xavier.
“It would have to be something in keeping with his bedroom. I mean, I don’t think Byerley would turn up with a whip or a riding crop,” Heath added quickly.
Xavier caught the unspoken message and removed those items from his mental checklist. “Something capable of inflicting a limited amount of pain and discomfort, perhaps? Maybe a little humiliation? And something that would leave a temporary mark?”
Heath gaped at him. “How did you do that? It was like you read my mind.”
Xavier chuckled. “I’m getting to know how you think, that’s all. It isn’t difficult—we read the same books,
remember? Which leads me to my last question. Do you want the scene to finish there? Or does Malcolm get the fucking of his life?” He hoped it was the latter.
There was no missing the multiple shivers that coursed through Heath.
Xavier bit back his smile. “I think that answers my question. Okay. When do we do this? And where?”
“Could you organize a room at the club, like last time?”
“Consider it done. How about Sunday evening?” Hopefully by then he would have had some kind of epiphany to prevent Heath’s shop from being reduced to rubble.
God, he hoped so.
“That sounds perfect.” A contented sigh escaped Heath. He licked his lower lip, and Xavier suddenly had an image of Heath’s mouth stretched wide as he took Xavier’s cock to the root. “And now that we’ve got that out of the way….”
Xavier knew what was coming, could see it hurtling toward him with all the speed and impact of a freight train, and his mind balked. Much as he loved the idea of spending the night, the prospect of being intimate filled him with unexpected disquiet. Making love to Heath, when there was so much going on in Xavier’s head, felt wrong. And right then, Xavier didn’t think he was capable of hiding his emotions.
That left only one solution.
“You know what? I think I need to go.”
Heath blinked. “Oh. I see.”
Xavier sighed. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“That’s original.” Heath’s words had an unaccustomed hard edge to them, not that Xavier blamed him for his reaction.
This is totally my fault.
Xavier got to his feet. “I’m sorry. My mind had been all over the place tonight, and I don’t think I’d be very good company.” That much was true.
“Is your mind likely to be in a better place by Sunday?” Heath asked quietly.
Oh fuck, I hope so.
“Probably. There are some things I need to take care of first, and then I can relax. But don’t worry. I’ll have everything ready for us at the club, including your costume.”