Page 12 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

Chapter Four

Alex

Elliot Dacre lived in a big house in Crystal Palace.

“Oh, thank God! I’ve been in a creative funk ever since that night!” he announced when Alex was delivered to his lounge. “I’ve been lying awake, thinking about all the beautiful art I could make with you as my muse.”

“I’m flattered.” Alex liked Dacre. The man was a fool, anyone could see that, but he was a charming one, and after living with Tyler’s changeable moods for months, it was a welcome relief to be with a less mercurial personality.

More importantly, there could be an opportunity here. Dacre’s house was unlikely to be as closely guarded as Tyler’s, and therefore, his movements not as monitored.

In that, he was disappointed. Tyler had sent a team of bodyguards with him, who accompanied him at all times – as much to ensure that Dacre didn’t sleep with him as anything else.

Dacre was a man of many enthusiasms, all of which he talked about at length.

“I love the ballet but hate the opera! All that posturing drives me nuts! I adore the human form, but when it stands there in all its portly glory with its mouth open, bombarding us with all that musical pomposity…!” He did a passable imitation, making Alex laugh, wh ich delighted him and caused him to show off even more.

It was so easy to flatter Elliot Dacre. He wasn’t a suspicious man, or prone to dark and jealous moods.

Alex’s arrival sent Dacre into a creative frenzy. Alex had never seen holoart being made before and had no idea about the process. It was similar to photography, but as it involved movement, Dacre wanted something choregraphed that created a specific mood.

“It’s a new art form. Once, people thought photographs weren’t as artistic as paintings, but they were wrong.

They’re wrong about holoart too, and I’ll prove it to them,” Dacre declared passionately, positioning Alex so that he was staring up at the holocam.

“No, don’t look at the holocam. Look away!

Pretend I’m not filming you. Oh God, yes, there it is. How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Alex asked, surprised.

“Look so elusive. The holocam loves it. I’m not surprised. It’s that same quality your mother had. You know who else had it? The Mona Lisa .”

Alex laughed. “I don’t think I’m in quite the same league as the Mona Lisa !”

“No, no, no… you misunderstand. It’s a certain something I’m looking for.

You said you liked that holopic I made of Hudson Brink.

Well, he’s a handsome man, and everyone loves the way he looks straight at you in that picture, promising sex.

He exudes it. You, on the other hand, are every bit as sexy as he is, and yet you’re withholding.

You offer something, but you also hold something back.

You can’t be known. It’s maddening, it’s fascinating, and so much more interesting than just gorgeous looks.

Beauty, sexiness, can be bland, banal. You make them into something deeper, something so much more . ”

“I’m flattered, of course, but you’re the one producing the art, not me. It’s your skill, not mine.”

All the same, Alex was taken aback when Dacre showed him the first holopic he made of him.

He was sitting in a chair, gazing out of a window, then he turned, startled, as if hearing a noise.

There was something haunting about the image, a sense of a private moment being intruded upon, of someone hiding, even from himself.

It was odd to see himself as others saw him, but he was delighted by how perfect his mask now was.

He thought Gideon would like the piece and wished he could send it to him.

Or Joe… but he tried not to think about Joe these days because he was sure he wouldn’t approve of what he was doing.

How could he explain to a man like Josiah Raine that he hated George Tyler with every fibre of his being but yearned for his touch at the same time?

He couldn’t even explain it to himself. He kept coming back to Stockholm syndrome, but that was a cop-out, and he was starting to loathe himself for enjoying sex with Tyler.

“That’s it! That’s the look I want to explore,” Dacre said, pointing his holocam at him again.

The holocam was as insatiable as Tyler’s obsessive interest in him.

They both wanted to own him, consume him, and make him theirs, yet found it impossible.

They could put him under their looking glass, like a fly in amber, but they were never able to truly capture him.

He remained forever unknowable and never quite theirs.

Alex knew that Dacre desired him. The fingers lingering on his skin, gently caressing him as he was positioned for his next picture made it all too obvious. Yet Tyler’s guards watched their every move, so Dacre was forced to resist temptation.

He wasn’t allowed to stay overnight at Dacre’s house.

He was driven there every morning and back to Vertex Tower every evening, but at least it was some respite from whatever it was he and Tyler were doing to each other.

He could never be relaxed or carefree, but thankfully, he didn’t have to police himself so tightly at Elliot’s.

It was only when he was away from Tyler that his shattered nerves had a chance to recover. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could walk the tightrope of Tyler’s emotions. Dacre was light and amusing after all the intensity, and he started to breathe again.

He was, therefore, disappointed when Tyler terminated the agreement abruptly a few weeks later, wrenching him out of a shoot that Dacre had spent days setting up.

“Did you miss me?” Tyler grabbed him the second Alex was returned to his suite. His hands were everywhere, his mouth warm and demanding on Alex’s mouth, and – oh, yes – the chemistry was still there, as hot and hungry as ever.

“Of course,” Alex replied fiercely, pressing up against him, longing for his touch. Yes, he’d missed this, whatever this was. He’d missed the wild passion of the sex, the insane hatred of the lust.

“I bet that old lech salivated over you every single fucking day,” Tyler breathed, the thought of someone else desiring his property clearly turning him on.

He ripped Alex’s clothes off, pushed him over the arm of the sofa, and entered him hard.

“I bet you dreamed about this when you were with that old fool. I bet you longed for it,” he growled, his hands making imprints on Alex’s thighs.

He came with a shout and leaned over Alex for several minutes, breathing heavily, still lodged deep inside him.

Alex lay there, wondering what had just happened. This man prided himself on being in control but now seemed dangerously close to losing it. Was he finally winning this battle of wits?

“Sorry,” Tyler muttered unexpectedly, stroking his back gently. He withdrew and stepped back, allowing Alex to get up.

“For what? I’m yours, you can enjoy me any way you wish,” Alex murmured, but he knew why Tyler was apologising. He was upset because he hadn’t demanded Alex’s consent and enthusiastic participation. Tyler hadn’t seduced him or bothered to arouse him – he’d simply taken him.

“I know that,” Tyler said irritably. He pulled Alex towards him and kissed him gently, as if trying to make up for it. Alex returned his kisses eagerly, and that seemed to mollify him. He sat down, pulling Alex onto the sofa next to him.

“It was passionate. Hot. I enjoyed it. I love that you want me so much,” Alex said, snuggling against him. He was still naked, Tyler fully dressed, as was so often the way with them, because his houder enjoyed the power imbalance that conveyed. Tyler wrapped an arm around him and kissed him.

“I missed you so much,” he said fiercely. “I tried not to. I hoped that when you were away, I’d be able to forget about you, but I couldn’t. It drove me nuts thinking of that silly old fool enjoying you. ”

“He didn’t lay a finger on me,” Alex assured him.

“Not enjoying you that way. Having the pleasure of your company, listening to you talk. I didn’t just miss the sex – I missed you , Alexander.” The desperation was back in Tyler’s eyes. “Oh, fuck, what have you done to me?” he asked in despair.

Was it possible that Tyler was falling in love with him?

If so, was it also possible that he might one day set him free?

If only to see if he came back to him? Was there a way out of this mess after all?

He’d hardly dared hope for so long, but now it flared inside him, a tiny kernel of light trying desperately to become a flame.

It was dangerous, and he knew that Gideon would chide him for it, but he couldn’t help himself.

His life had been so awful for so long that he needed to believe that one day it would get better.

“I only want to make you happy,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Happy? I’ve never been happy.” Tyler took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back.

“It’s not in my nature. I just wish I didn’t feel this…

obsession.” He spat out the word. “This is so similar to how it was with Isobel, but worse, much worse, and I don’t understand why because I have you.

I own you. You’re mine in a way she would never commit to being, and yet, I still don’t feel… safe.”

Alex could see, if Tyler could not, that he’d replicated the same problem with him that he’d had with his mother.

He wanted to own them, to trust them, to love them completely and have that returned – but he feared his feelings weren’t reciprocated, and there was no way of convincing him that they were.

Tyler couldn’t cope with love because he loathed being vulnerable. Now he was caught in a web of his own making. He didn’t trust Alex, but he was in love with a fantasy of what they could have together.

A few days later, as they sat in the dining room eating breakfast together, Tyler received a delivery: a small white box, tied with a red bow and a gift card saying Thank You!