11. Epsilon

CHAPTER 11

Epsilon

E psilon sank down into his office chair, rubbing at his temples and trying to ignore the delicious flare of pain as his body protested the pressure against his ass and the back of his thighs. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts, playing the scene over and over in his head until he could be sure he'd dream of it tonight.

Of Kyle, and the way he'd drawn Akira's submission so easily from him... no, not Akira. He was at work. He was Epsilon here, no matter how shitty it felt to keep that part of himself from Kyle.

Epsilon forced his back to straighten in the chair – another thing that made him wince in both pain and pleasure because Kyle was a hard man to forget you'd played with – and reached into his pocket for his runepad. He had silenced the notifications on the small tablet before returning to Kyle, and as expected, when he activated the screen there were nearly a dozen missed calls and messages waiting for him.

As Epsilon began to stubbornly delete them, another call came through from a different runepad dialcode. And as tempted as he was to ignore that one too, it wouldn't be enough to dissuade the man on the other end.

He pressed accept .

The screen immediately flooded with the image of an office five times the size of his, lavishly decked out with chrome and polished fake wood. Master Theta gave him a tight smile, flicking his long silver hair over one shoulder.

"Epsilon."

He waited a beat before offering the curtest reply he could muster. "Yes?"

"Mayor Mackenroth has been trying to contact you," said Theta.

"I can see that," Epsilon said, referring to the missed calls. "I've been busy."

Busy. That didn't even begin to describe how amazing the last hour had been, in surrendering to Kyle like he wanted to do every damn day. It had taken all of his composure to feign nonchalance as he walked away afterwards, instead of falling to his knees and begging – no, demanding , that Kyle claim him as his.

Theta sighed. "You need to explain yourself."

"Miles disobeyed the rules. Failed to honour a safe word. I'm not lifting the Coterie-wide ban."

"I already have," said Theta. "Unlike you, I – and the other Masters – know to pick up when the mayor calls. By the stars, Akira, what were you thinking? Banning his brother from our Houses?"

Epsilon swallowed down his fury. "Miles Mackenroth is still not welcome in my House, no matter who he's related to."

Another sigh, this one twice as long and exasperated. "Epsilon," Theta said after a long moment, his tone a familiar blend of patient and patronising. "I don't know why you must always make things harder for yourself. I taught you better than that: some things you just have to endure, and it's not like-"

"So I was supposed to just let him assault one of my staff?" he demanded.

Theta's expression spilled into one of weary resignation. "Ah. This is about your little pet Dominant, isn't it? That explains it."

"Explains what?"

Theta lifted an elegant shoulder in a shrug. "You always make the rashest decisions when it comes to him. Remember all the times I've had to talk you down because you'd decided to tell Randall your secret? "

Epsilon glowered at the screen, not willing to acknowledge quite how often that had happened, but thankful Theta had always helped him see sense before he'd done something he'd regret. "I know better than to get involved with one of my employees."

From the arched eyebrow that the other man gave him, the words hadn't been very convincing. And neither was Epsilon's conviction that if he and Kyle didn't kiss, they could avoid Catching Feelings.

Clearly that plan had failed.

"Your heart has no place in business," admonished Theta. "Put the boy aside and do whatever it takes to regain Mayor Mackenroth's favour."

He didn't respond.

"I say this as a friend, Epsilon," Theta urged, and now a dash of concern passed across his handsome face. "Do not make an enemy of him. A man like you has an awful lot to lose."

Including this call connection.

Epsilon terminated it with a careless finger, standing from his desk and leaving the runepad lying discarded on its surface.

He was practically vibrating with anger, but that was nothing new when it came to Mayor Benedict Mackenroth throwing his weight around. The man was a bully, albeit a rich and powerful one, and it meant he usually got what he wanted. When Xerxes was all that was left of the entire world, its mayor wasn't just a king, but a god .

And Theta was very much right: Epsilon did have a lot to lose. Starting with the man whose laugh now rang out from down the corridor; a genuine sound of mirth and good humour that was so uniquely Kyle with his incessant cheerfulness. Nothing got him down for long, unlike Epsilon and the way he sank into dark, pissed-off moods, which meant what they'd done earlier had probably been wholly unnecessary for restoring Kyle's spirits after Miles' abuse.

Epsilon had known that, and still he'd gone to his knees for him.

He'd mastered the art of justifying his impulses when it came to Kyle Randall, and while Epsilon had been able to limit his indulgences for much of the last five years to finding excuses to be in Kyle's company, to message him, to follow him unseen through the city to make sure he got home safely – Epsilon had known it was only a matter of time before he gave in fully. And letting Kyle fuck him without a strictly professional reason to do so had been...exquisite. Amazing.

Incredibly stupid.

At least he'd avoided the attempted kiss, Epsilon reminded himself, even as his heart wrenched painfully when he remembered the devastated look Kyle had tried to hide when he'd pulled away. If this had only been about Epsilon, he'd have swept the gorgeous blonde into his arms and kissed him until both of their mouths were swollen and numb, but he couldn't because of Sarah, and Robby, and…and Kyle himself. Kyle could not get drawn into Epsilon's fucking messes, no matter how sweet he was, or how fun, or how his presence filled Epsilon with a glowy kind of contentment that felt warm and fluffy and satisfying. No matter how competent he was with a paddle and a pair of handcuffs...

Epsilon pulled himself from the fantasy only to spy the object of them pass the doorway to the office, his arms draped loosely over the shoulders of the two men at his side. Kyle's voice raised in teasing affection before he laughed again, and this time Mish and Deacon's chuckles joined with his at whatever joke had been told.

Kyle fell so naturally into his role of mentor and friend to the rest of the staff, offering them a warmth that Epsilon could not. He had such a huge heart that always tried to see the good in people when there often wasn't even a sliver of it to be found. It gave him a kind of...precious innocence, one which Epsilon wished to preserve at all costs.

If there was ever a man who deserved far better than to be squished deep into the bowels of humanity's last refuge and treated as a second-class citizen for it, it was Kyle Randall.

Deacon glanced over his shoulder and spotted Epsilon lingering at the top of the stairs watching them. The trainee had good instincts. He gave him a half-shy, half-coy smile, and then must have said something to the others, for Misha immediately twisted around and gave Epsilon a broad wave.

"Night, Master!"

"Goodnight Misha," Epsilon said evenly, refusing to meet the man's impossible levels of exuberance.

"Deacon," he added, just so he could then say the name that plucked at his tongue. "Goodnight, Kyle."

Kyle didn't turn. He gave no acknowledgement that he'd heard him at all, other than a slight tension in his shoulders. Epsilon stared at the back of his head and tried to keep his expression from slipping into the despair he felt underneath.

He'd fucked up.