Read Tarot's Touch Online

Authors: L.M. Somerton

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

Tarot's Touch (12 page)

Though Conor loved the feeling of Alex on top of him, it was getting hard to breathe. He shoved his arse up a little.

“My lungs are collapsing, love.”

Alex grunted and rolled to one side. “I like you under me.”

“Believe me. I like
being
under you. I also enjoy breathing.”

Alex chuckled. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

“On what scale are we talking here? Nicely chubby or hippopotamus enormous?” There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on Alex’s muscled frame, but it was fun to tease him.

“Why, you cheeky…”

Conor scrambled out of bed as Alex grabbed for him. He went to the en suite and ran the hot water over a soft flannel before returning to Alex with his peace offering. Alex narrowed his eyes but took the cloth.

“Turn around. I’ll clean you up.” Alex swiveled up and sat on the edge of the bed as Conor turned around.

“I made you nice and sticky.” Alex applied the flannel with gentle swipes. “Much as I’d like to plug my cum inside you for the day, it wouldn’t be comfortable for running and I think you need a good work out this morning.”

Conor groaned. “You’ve worn me out already.” He retrieved the flannel then returned it to the bathroom sink.

“If I had, you wouldn’t have the energy to cheek me. Now get on your knees.”

Conor took a couple of steps forward and dropped to his knees with a glare.

“You don’t have to be all Dommy now. You know that, don’t you?”

“Dommy? What kind of word is that? And being Dominant”—he pronounced the word with precision—“is not something I can turn off.”

As Alex unbuckled the collar around his neck, Conor looked up at him through his lashes. “Do you wish you could leave it on?”

Alex fingered the leather. “Sometimes. But I enjoy the look on your face when I strap it around your neck. A lot.”

“And how exactly do I look?”

“Resistant. Defiant. Fucking hot.”

Conor didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he didn’t say anything. He stood and crossed the room to the dresser. He pulled underwear and his running kit from the drawers then dressed after tossing a set of clothes to Alex. He avoided looking at his lover, though he could feel Alex’s smirk without having to see it.

Conor hopped around, pulling on his socks. Alex patted the bed next to where he was sitting.

“Come here.”

Conor sat next to him with a sigh and bent to tie his running shoes. Alex rubbed slow circles into the small of his back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Well… Oh I don’t know. Does it bother you that we don’t live the lifestyle twenty-four-seven?”

“I’ve never asked you for that, Conor.” Alex continued to rub in gentle motions.

Conor leaned against Alex’s solid frame. “Am I enough for you?”

Alex stilled. “Since we met… Since the first time I laid eyes on you, there has never been a doubt in my mind that you are all that I will ever want or need, love.”

“Oh… I…” Conor fumbled over his words.

“What we have between us is perfect. I’m not interested in turning you into a submissive slave and I don’t need you on your knees to feel in control. I can’t pretend that I don’t want you submissive in the bedroom, because I do, and it’s likely that I’ll be more than a little ‘Dommy’ with you when we’re alone.”

Conor sighed and rested his head on Alex’s shoulder.

“But if you ever decide that vanilla is your flavor, all you have to do is say so.”

“I think vanilla will always be a little bland for me.”

Alex chuckled. “Well I’ll be happy to bring plenty of spice into your life. Now are we through discussing feelings, because I think I’ve reached my sensitivity quota for the day… Well, the year?”

“Yes, we’re done.”

“Good. Now are we going to run or not? It’s going to have to be a couple of quick circuits around the park.”

Conor stood and stretched. “Sure. If I beat you round, can I spank
your
arse tonight?”

Alex snorted. “You never win, but even if you do, your prize is to be bent over my lap this evening.”

“And if I lose?”

“I’m pretty certain the consolation prize will be remarkably similar.”

Quickly, they both finished getting ready, donning caps to protect them from the weather then headed out. It was a gray, damp morning. The air was filled with the kind of thick drizzle that looked like nothing much but soaked through clothes tenaciously. Conor took the lead and trotted slowly along the quiet cul-de-sac. It was still early and though most houses had lights on, outside there were few people around. As his muscles warmed, Conor lengthened his stride and turned into the main road that went directly toward the park. It was less than half a mile to the edge of the park and there was a purpose built jogging track that followed its border. He and Alex ran there on the mornings that they could squeeze it in before work.

As the pavement widened, Alex pulled alongside him and matched his stride perfectly.

“I like the wet T-shirt look on you.”

“Oh you do? It doesn’t feel so good.” The wet fabric was cold and uncomfortable.

“You should have worn something thicker.”

“I didn’t even realize it was raining until we got outside. Still, I’d rather be wearing a clingy shirt than have my shorts stuck to me.”

Alex snorted. “Stop looking at my shorts and watch where you’re going.”

Conor slowed and checked the main road before jogging across into the park.

Two quick laps took about twenty minutes. It felt good to stretch and take in the fresh air, even if it was a bit soggy. Toward the end of the run, Alex surged past Conor and sprinted the final four hundred meters. Conor just rolled his eyes and maintained a steadier pace. When he caught up, Alex was bent over, hands on his thighs, taking deep gulps of air.

“You just have to be first, don’t you? Every time.” Conor did a few stretches then wandered over to the public fountain. They still had to jog the half-mile home so he took a few quick swallows. Alex nudged him out of the way and had a drink as well.

“You know me. I take great pleasure from beating your arse as often as possible.” He gave Conor a gentle smack on his behind.

“Of course, that doesn’t have much to do with running.”

“Comedian.”

“Stop talking and start running or we are going to be late to work.” Alex grinned then shot off down the road at full tilt.

Conor cursed and set off after him, thighs and calves burning with the effort. He spent a few happy minutes admiring Alex’s arse as he ran in front of him, then overtook, knowing that his lead wouldn’t last long. When they got to the turning into their road, Alex accelerated and took the front spot again, leaving Conor standing.

Alex’s house sat on a very quiet road and it was because of this that Conor noticed the car behind him as he took the final turn. It seemed to be idling, maybe looking for a particular house. He thought about stopping and offering to help, but they had to get to work. Alex was already waiting on the front path. Conor jogged toward him, smiling as Alex waved.

“What is he doing?” Conor muttered.

Alex’s waves were getting more frantic. He was gesturing down the road. Belatedly, Conor became aware of the sound of an engine revving behind him, far too close. Time seemed to slow. He caught sight of the car out of the corner of his eye, heard it accelerating. It headed straight for him. He saw Alex’s expression turn to horror. Conor threw himself sideways, knowing that there was no way he would be able to get far enough away from the speeding vehicle. There was an instant of blinding pain—the world turned upside down, then everything went black.

 

Alex was already running toward Conor’s prone form, pulling out his phone as he went. The car sped away with a screech. The stink of burning rubber hung in the air, his neighbor’s dog started barking, and the postman dropped his sack of mail and ran to join him. Heart hammering in his chest, Alex prayed out loud, “Please be okay. Please, God, let him be okay…”

 

* * * *

 

Alex was thinking inappropriate thoughts but he didn’t care, they were helping him ignore the sterile, overly disinfected smell of the private hospital room he was sitting in. His chair had not been designed for comfort, so he also needed his mind taken off the uncomfortable numb feeling in his arse cheeks. He wondered absently what pins and needles would feel like in that area and shifted uncomfortably.

Next to him, Conor was propped up in bed, cushioned by at least four large pillows, looking pale and incredibly beautiful. Alex glowered as yet another young nurse bustled into the room and felt his boyfriend’s pulse. So far there had been pillow plumping—twice. Blood pressure checks, a fresh water jug, blinds being opened then closed again, and drugs administered. Alex was fairly sure that all but the latter visit had been completely superfluous and if one more person laid so much as a finger on Conor, they were likely to end up in the next ward on life support.

“You should save that scowl for the bastard that hit me.”

Alex blinked and looked into sparkling green eyes. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m relieved that there’s no serious damage and I want to take you home. Do you think they’ll let us take one of those gowns with us? The kind that doesn’t do up properly at the back?”

Conor laughed then winced. “Stop! Laughing hurts! I want to go home too—as soon as the doc comes back, I’ll ask for a discharge.”

“If the doctor won’t let you out of here, I’ll kidnap you. There are far too many people pawing you.”

“They’re just doing their jobs, love.”

Alex grunted. “You are such an innocent. I want you home where I can keep an eye on you. It’s exactly the same as the last time you were in hospital. Hordes of nurses with nothing better to do than feel you up.” He leered. “And that’s
my
job.” He stood up and stretched. “I hate hospitals. I hate you being in hospital, which, I might add, happens far too often.”

“Twice, Alex. It’s happened twice. Well, since you’ve known me anyway.” Conor didn’t make eye contact.

“I don’t want to know about any previous injuries or battering experiences you’ve had. That will just make me want to lock you in a nice, safe padded cell.”

“You take over-protective to a whole new hemisphere.”

“And I make no apologies for it. Someone just attempted to kill you—someone who knew our routine. If you come home, you will not be left alone. No arguments.”

Conor gave a pained sigh. “There’s no need for you to babysit me. I’ll be quite happy and perfectly safe at home alone—you need to go into work anyway.”

Alex crossed his arms. “There is absolutely no way that I’m leaving you alone. Deal with it.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Don’t argue with me, Conor. It’s not going to happen.”

Conor rolled his eyes. “I have a few bruises. That’s all.”

“You have severe bruising, a possible concussion and your shoulder has just been shoved back into its socket.” Alex loomed menacingly over the bed before bending his head to give Conor a gentle kiss.

“Let me look after you.”

“How can you catch whoever did this if you are stuck at home with me? Post a uniform in the garden, stick a dog unit in the hall if you must. I don’t care. But please, don’t waste time on me when you could be leading the investigation to find this bastard.”

Conor’s voice shook just a little, giving Alex a clue to how vulnerable he was really feeling.

“There’s a lot of stubborn in you isn’t there?” He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “How about a compromise? I’ll come home with you—I have to change out of my running gear anyway—and get you settled. Then I’ll call Robbie and he can babysit you. And you get a uniform in the garden.”

It was a concession of sorts, and Conor looked smug.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Relief that Conor was okay could only temper Alex’s frustration for so long. The doctor arrived and he finally had an outlet for his irritation.

“Finally! Much longer and you’d be admitting me with an incurable case of disgruntlement.”

“Sounds uncomfortable. I think we have rubber cushions for that.” Unphased by Alex’s temper, the doctor checked Conor’s notes. “Hmm. Yes, I see…”

Behind the doctor’s back, Alex mimed hitting his head against the wall. Conor looked on in amusement.

“Your colleague has little patience, Mr. Trethuan. However, I think an examination is in order. I have your discharge forms ready, but I’m quite prepared to rip them up if I’m not satisfied with your condition.”

Alex groaned, but took a couple of paces away and let the doctor look Conor over. Once it was done, the doctor stood back. “I would prefer to keep you here for observation for another twenty-four hours, but I can’t force you to stay. You can go, Detective Trethuan, providing you have someone at home to keep a close eye on you. Any sign of deterioration in your condition and you’re to come straight back or call for an ambulance. I will give aftercare instructions to your Inspector. I trust he will pass them on.” The doctor threw a quick glance in Alex’s direction before leaning forward. “I don’t envy you working for him!” he muttered beneath his breath. “He’s bloody scary.”

“Try living with him.”

“Oh! Oh, I see….” The doctor laughed. “All becomes clear! In that case, just do as he tells you. That’s your safest option.” He was still chortling to himself as he strolled out of the door.

“I’m not scary,” Alex said, as he helped Conor out of bed. Conor exchanged the green hospital gown for scrub trousers. Alex helped him with his running shoes, going to his knees to tie the laces.

“You do err on the intimidating side, my love.”

“Still, the doc made sense. He said you have to do as I tell you.”

“Stop gloating and get me out of here,” Conor snapped.

Alex grunted. “Your shorts and shirt were ruined when the paramedics cut them off. I think it’s going to be too painful for you to get your arm into a top, so I’ve borrowed this.” Alex wrapped a soft blue blanket gently around Conor’s shoulders.

“There, are you warm enough? Are you in any pain?”

“Stop fussing and take me home. Please. I promise I’ll let you know if I need more pills.”

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