29. Kyle

CHAPTER 29

Kyle

I t had been two days since Kyle had brought Akira back to House Epsilon, only to have the man disappear on him again. At least he'd responded to Kyle's follow-up messages that time, albeit with curt single-word responses.

Akira's body didn't look to have suffered any permanent damage and it seemed to be healing well, but the darkness under the man's eyes remained, as did the visible exhaustion in his posture. He was seemingly going home each morning when the House's nocturnal business closed for the day, but whatever sleep he was getting, it wasn't enough.

Kyle longed to fix that. To take care of his man and help him rest, to hold him and soothe him and banish whatever nightmares or worries were keeping him awake.

Yet he couldn't even talk to him. By either design or accident, Akira was never alone when Kyle came across him around the House, and in the two days they'd shared little more than stiff greetings. Whatever Master Theta had done or said to Akira that night, it was making him keep his distance from Kyle.

Or had Theta's snide comment held truth? Had Kyle been the one to hurt him? Was that why Akira had left when things had seemed to be going so...well?

"Kyle."

Kyle looked up from where he'd been absently tracing old scratches on the staffroom table to find Master Epsilon staring at him. He was holding his hand out, palm facing upwards.

Kyle's heart flickered with unreasonable excitement at the realisation Akira was finally speaking to him. He'd said his name even, in that inherently sultry way of his that sounded like a plea and a promise all in one.

Please come back to me. Whatever you want from me, it's yours.

Before he could speak the words, he remembered they weren't alone. The House employees who had gathered in the staffroom for the daily meeting were all looking at him.

"Kyle," Akira repeated.

"Um, yeah?"

"Not appropriate attire for the workplace. Off." Akira flicked his fingers impatiently and Kyle looked down at his Livin' on a Prayer shirt, widening his eyes in horrified dismay. He hoped the expression hid how delighted he was that Akira was taking an interest in him again.

Stars, he was pathetic.

He also didn't care.

He was going to bask in the attention like a preening cat, utterly undone the moment those chocolate brown eyes had turned his way.

"It's perfectly appropriate, Master," Kyle argued, trying not to grin.

"Not unless one of your clients has a fetish for 80s rock," said Epsilon. "And if there's two of you on this damn city, I expect it may just implode."

Casey sniggered.

Kyle fake-scowled at both of them. "A fetish for decent music, maybe."

" Kyle ."

Oh, there he was. Ruthless and uncompromising and impeccably dressed for the first time in two days: his Akira was back.

Reaching a careless arm up over his head, Kyle yanked his t-shirt off to expose the leather Dom harness strapped across his bare chest. But he ignored Master Epsilon's outstretched hand and clutched the shirt to his stomach.

"I'm not giving it to you," he said with open suspicion. "You'll probably try to burn it."

"Probably," Akira agreed, deadpan. "But you'll give it to me anyway, because I'm telling you to."

When Kyle hesitated, Misha whistled.

"Oh do share, bi-atch!" he called out, sidling closer and planting his lace-clad ass on the table in front of him. Kyle reached out and playfully twanged the thin slip of elastic resting at his hip, so the pink thong snapped back against his flesh. "Who gave it to you?"

Akira didn't react, but Kyle did. An involuntary and entirely incriminating wince. "What?"

"I haven't seen you this possessive since that client tried to get sticky-fingered with your favourite flogger and you went postal on his ass," Mish mused, kicking his legs where they hung over the edge of the table. His voice lilted into a sing-song pitch. "Must be someone spesh-ial ."

Kyle tossed the shirt at Epsilon without another word. For a balled-up piece of fabric that had no elegance to its movement whatsoever, Akira somehow seemed to give it some, plucking it from the air and delicately draping it across his forearm.

"Eric," he scolded a half-second later, holding out his other hand without looking. "Don't think I didn't notice."

Eric scowled, leaned forward, and spat his mouthful of chewing gum into the tissue the Master held.

Akira caught Kyle's eye. "Just be thankful I didn't use this," he said as he scrunched the tissue around the ball of gum and spit, and then patted the shirt with false friendliness. "Might have improved it somewhat."

More than one person chortled at that.

"You're all heathens," Kyle told the room indignantly.

"Aww, did we hurt your feelings, baby?" Mish teased, spinning to face him and lifting his foot to drag it across Kyle's chest with impressive control. His hot pink toenails, glittering under the harsh overhead light, matched tonight's lacy outfit perfectly. "Shall I kiss it all better?"

Kyle gave him a pleasant, indulgent smile, waited until his foot began to drop, and then leapt at him. Misha let out a surprised yelp as he was dragged from his precarious perch on the table.

Kyle caught the smaller man before he could hit the floor. "No, but you can lick it all better," he purred and Adam howled with laughter as Mish immediately mimed doing exactly that, his tongue pushing up against the inside of his cheek in crude implication.

"Settle, children," admonished Akira, but his brown eyes were bright and amused.

"You couldn't afford me anyway," Misha told Kyle haughtily. "I cost three hundred an hour."

"Then get your cheap ass off my lap," Kyle retorted, despite being the one to have put him there. "I'm twice that."

"And worth every credit I haven't paid." Mish fluttered his eyelashes at Kyle before turning the seductive expression on the rest of the men gathered around them. Kyle chuckled.

"You're such a shameless flirt."

"You love it, slut."

Kyle dumped him on the floor...or tried to, but Misha's skinny arms clung obstinately around his neck. And then his legs wrapped around his hips, and Kyle found himself consumed by a human limpet that talked too much and looked ridiculously good in lingerie.

"Master," Kyle grunted out from beneath his friend's weight. "I may need some assistance."

"Nonsense," Epsilon said. " That attire seems perfectly appropriate for work. Very sexy."

"I'd rather just have my shirt back," said Kyle. Mish and Akira both laughed at him.

The grin Kyle shot back in return was quickly smothered when first Adam, and then Deacon, threw themselves onto what was left of his lap, and soon he found himself at the bottom of a very enthusiastic pile-on when the rest of House Epsilon joined in.

They ignored his pretend protests, shrieking with delight as a couple of them took the opportunity to get handsy with each other.

"Come on, Master," he heard Misha mumble through the tangle of male bodies. "We have to dress Kyle properly. Or else squish him until he stops talking. I vote for the squishing."

"I vote for an orgy," Adam said breathlessly from his position with someone's elbow pressed against his cheek.

"Excellent idea," Sanjay rumbled in his deep voice from somewhere among the pile. Thankfully it had spilled sideways onto the floor so Kyle wasn't underneath them all, because by the stars these beautiful men were heavy. "Let's line the subbies up and bend them over so we can fuck them one by one."

Adam's face instantly lit up.

"Or," Kyle wheezed, slapping Mish's ass to get him to let go so they could both slither free of the mess, "we could save ourselves for paying clients."

" Boring ," complained Eric, nuzzling his bearded chin into Deacon's neck and making the man giggle. "We deserve a day off."

Distantly, Kyle heard Master Epsilon's dry dismissal of that particular idea. He caught Misha's eye and they nodded at each other wordlessly before lunging for their boss where he stood behind them.

Got you.

Yet after watching him fight outside the city the other morning, Kyle should have known Akira wouldn't go down easily.

He fended off Mish with ease, catching him around the middle and using his momentum to divert him away, and so Kyle pivoted and dived for Akira's legs instead. He sacrificed his own balance but it was worth it to take the clever bastard down. Akira collapsed on top of him with a soft grunt and was immediately grabbed by half a dozen eager hands.

The loyalties of the room shifted in an instant as the men of House Epsilon fought to pin their Master to the floor.

It wasn't quick. A few ended up with pinched nerves or twisted arms for their efforts, all of them covered in a light sheen of sweat by the end, yet Akira had no hope of fending off so many assailants. Eventually, he fell still in reluctant surrender, lying on his back with Kyle straddling his hips.

Akira's lips parted slightly as he stared up at him from the floor, looking simultaneously vulnerable and fierce with his chest heaving and his splayed wrists and legs secured firmly by several men. What Kyle would give to be able to take it further, to order him to be held down and spread while he…

"Alright," Kyle said reluctantly, knowing that with their boss at their mercy, he had to be the responsible one. "Up. We really do have clients waiting for us."

He shooed the others away.

"Have a good night, gentlemen," Akira said in that contradictorily soft yet stern tone of his, and a dozen yes, Master Epsilon s chorused back at him.

Kyle deliberately waited until the staff had begun to drag themselves up off the floor before offering his own response.

"Yes," he murmured, brushing the back of his fingers across the soft skin of Akira's cheek as he got to his feet. He revelled in the stolen touch and how it made Akira's pupils flare. "You too, Master."