Page 22 of The Companion Love Trap

Giving up playing, I spun around on the piano bench and pulled off the white button-down shirt that suddenly felt too tight. I leaned my elbows on my knees and ran my fingers through my hair. This upcoming trip had my stress levels higher than usual. I needed the investors to believe in me. The board was counting on me to seal the deal for my latest products and launch us to a new level. Everyone seemed to have forgotten there was a reason I wasn’t the face of J&K Cairdeas Solutions—Jace was.

I hid in my office and lab on purpose. I didn’t like people. They were too complicated and messy. But technology made sense. It didn’t let me down. I could make it do what I wanted; well, most of the time, one strand of code was still causing errors. But even so, I still preferred it to socializing with others.

Standing barefoot, I crossed the expansive room and stopped at the floor-to-ceiling window. I looked out onto the cityscape, taking in all the buildings around me. In the dark, I could make out families and couples going about their routines in the windows below. I often watched them, trying to understand how families worked.

Families were a mystery to me. Growing up in an orphanage in Ireland, I’d never had one to start with. I’d been dumped there as a baby, and it had been all I’d known until I came to America. If an old piano hadn’t been gifted to the orphanage one year, I might’ve never made it out of there.

I’d been transfixed by the black and white keys and the sounds they made. I taught myself to play after chores and dinner, listening to the songs on the radio and then playing them by ear. When the headmistress discovered my talent, she signed me up for competitions and recitals, saving all the money I had won for my future. I even got asked to play at Carnegie Hall at the age of ten after winning my age group in Ireland.

I didn’t win the cash prize there, but I did get on the radar of a generous benefactor who sponsored me to attend boarding school in the States. From eleven until eighteen, when I graduated, I stayed at Oakland Academy year-round. It became my home, offering me a future I never could’ve dreamed of in Ireland.

College. Graduate school. My own company.

But somewhere along the way, I lost my love for playing. It became the thing I had to be good at in order to achieve my goals—to be worthwhile—and that much pressure on anything always ends with it breaking.

I could no longer play as Kieran Byrne, whether anyone was listening or not. I inevitably stumbled, never able to finish a song. But as the Phantom… music never sounded as sweet as it did then.

Leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I wondered not for the first time what it would’ve been like to grow up with parents. Would I still have been this successful? Would I feel worthy of it? Or would the cracks in my foundation, threatening to expose me for the fraud I was, always be there? No matter how much success I achieved, it never felt enough. I was one failed product away from having it all crash around me.

It didn’t matter how sometimes I wished it would. The relief of failing was something I dreamed about and feared all the same.

But no matter how much success I earned, it never felt as good as the first time I played the piano. Or now when I played with Mo Chuisle. There was nothing that could beat that pure freedom.

I might no longer be that poor orphan, dirty and in rags, but it didn’t matter. No amount of money allowed me to outrun my past.

The door opened, and Jace’s footsteps neared as he entered our penthouse apartment. We’d been placed together our first year. I hadn’t known what to think of the outgoing boy who shined so bright I worried my dirt would smudge him. While most of the other boys made fun of me for my accent and jeered at me for playing the piano, Jace never did. Despite being smaller than most other boys, it never stopped him from getting into fights to protect my honor.

He was the first person to stand up for me and not ask for anything in return except my friendship. It encouraged me to trust him and cemented our lifelong friendship. Jace allowed me to be vulnerable and lean on him, casting away the shackles I wore day-to-day. He became the comfort I’d always wanted and the safe place for me to be exactly who I was. There was no pretense between us, allowing me one person I didn’t have to perform for.

Our friendship was the most precious thing in my life.

“Kieran, I know you were skeptical about my plan, but you’re going to be thanking me tomorrow,” he said as he walked into the room. I didn’t have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice. He was pleased with himself. I honestly didn’t care who he found as long as they performed the role well. There wasn’t a woman I was interested in outside of Mo Chuisle.

I watched him near the window, his face morphing to the darker version of himself he only showed a few people. His eyes darkened as he rubbed his jaw, thoughts whirring in his mind. My shoulders dropped in relief, knowing what was coming next. The piano hadn’t helped, but Jace would.

He pressed his body flat against mine, his hands coming to my hips. Jace was shorter than I was by a good five inches, but it didn’t matter. He was the dominant one in our dynamic, and I willingly submitted to him. Our relationship wasn’t always sexual, our friendship was the core between us, but when either of us needed something, it transitioned there. Jace and I didn’t work without one another.

Jace was convinced there was a perfect woman for us to share, making our relationship complete. I didn’t know if she existed for us both, but I was willing to let him believe in the dream. But I knew my heart, and it already loved two people—Jace and Mo Chuisle.

“You’re too tense, Kier. Do you need me? Do you want me to help you relax?”

I nodded, my body sagging further into his touch. His fingers gripped tighter, and I knew he wanted more. He wanted my consent, my words.

“Yes,” I grunted, the words hoarse and dry.

I didn’t talk to many people to begin with unless necessary, finding most people filled the space with annoying drivel. But there were some days I got so pulled into my own head I couldn’t get out. Words and thoughts meshed together, and I couldn’t tell thought from fact. I replayed past conversations to the point I didn’t know which version happened. I looped over and over until I either passed out from exhaustion, escaped to the Howler, or let Jace take it from me.

“I have a present for you, Kier.” His hands moved around, cupping my cock as he talked. “One part I’ll give you tonight if you’re good and do exactly as I say. The other you’ll get tomorrow on the plane. Understand?”

“Yes, Jace. I’m yours to command.”

“Good boy.”

My body shivered at his praise, needing his reassurance that I wasn’t a total screwup. He unhooked my belt and shoved his hand down my boxers, gripping my erection in his hand and giving me a few pumps as he squeezed. I could feel his hardened length behind me, rubbing against my ass as he tortured me. His other hand ran over my abs, his fingers trailing through my soft blond hair.

“Strip and kneel in front of the couch,” he said, stepping back and letting go of me. I didn’t hesitate, shucking the rest of my clothes as I spun and kneeled on the floor before him. He rested against the black leather couch, his legs wide open as he watched me. I bowed my head and took a deep breath. I already felt better and lighter, but I needed more before I’d be ready to leave on this trip.

“Take me out and suck, but don’t let me come.”

---