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Authors: Fyn Alexander

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BOOK: Be Brave
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against the wall. Conran"s face grew red, and his breath came in short, hard bursts.

“Saunders, calm down, please.”

Kael looked down into terrified eyes. “Give me my job back.” He pushed his

knuckles into Conran"s throat, fully aware that he was making it difficult for the

man to breathe. He eased up on the pressure, waiting for him to answer.

Conran spoke with difficulty. “You are not suitable to be in a classroom with

ordinary students. You have absolutely no people skills.”

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

17

“I do! How dare you—a member of the tiny cock club—tell me I"m lacking in

any area!” He raised his hand with his fingers drawn toward the palm.

Conran spotted the gesture and screamed, “Don"t break my nose again. It took

weeks to heal last time you did it.”

The door opened, and Kael looked over his shoulder to see Conran"s stout,

dowdy secretary watching them. Kael was always charming to her, yet she did not

look in the slightest bit surprised at the scene. “Shall I call someone, Mr. Conran?”

she asked calmly.

“No, thank you.” His voice sounded strangled and strangely comic.

“Then I shall see you in the morning, sir.” She glanced at the shattered whisky

tumbler on the floor.

“Have a good evening, Mrs. Lane,” Kael said, smiling. The door closed, and he

looked again at Conran. The secretary"s intrusion had broken the tension. Kael took

a breath and released Conran who stood, straightening his tie and brushing down

his jacket.

“I"m sorry, but you are not going back into the classroom.”

Kael walked to the door. “I
have
got people skills. People like me.”

Conran headed for the whisky decanter and quickly poured himself another

large drink. “I find it ironic that you keep insisting you have interpersonal skills

when only a moment ago you had me by the throat up against a wall because I

delivered news you didn"t like.”

“Fuck off.” Kael grabbed the door handle.

“And for someone who is so good at languages, you use those two particular

words with tedious regularity.” Kael released the door handle and started back in

Conran"s direction at lightning speed. Conran downed the whisky, replaced the

tumbler, and raised both hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, his eyes

widening again, a sure mark of fear.

“I"m going.”

He was at the door again when Conran said quietly, “Saunders…Sir.” He

swallowed hard. “May I visit you again? Please.”

Kael looked at him. “How long is it since you were in my dungeon, on your

knees, begging me to paddle you and fuck your arse?”

Color flooded Conran"s cheeks.

“How long, Stephen?” He always used Conran"s first name when he wanted to

make it clear who was in charge. To make the man a slave again.

“Just that one time, Sir. Last September.” Conran spoke very quietly.

Kael snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. Glancing around as if a

crowd of onlookers were straining to watch their every move, Conran got slowly to

his hands and knees. “Let"s have you, Stephen. Don"t make me wait.” Kael was

suddenly calm and patient. A willing slave always brought out the best in him.

When he was in control of his environment, he felt tranquil.

18

Fyn Alexander

Tentatively Conran crawled toward him.

“Are you afraid someone will walk in and see you?” Kael teased.

“Yes, Sir.” At Kael"s feet, Conran dipped his head and kissed the toes of his

black leather shoes.

“What do you want me to do to you this time, boy?” Kael asked.

“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

“No, that"s not good enough. I want the details. Tell me what you want.” His

mouth stretched into a smile. God! He loved tormenting Conran, and after the blow

he had just delivered, the little shit deserved it.

“Sir, would you be so good as to paddle my arse? Would you put me in

restraints and fuck me? Please, Sir?”

“I"ll think about.” Kael walked out, leaving Conran on his knees.

Outside in the chill early evening, the sky was already darkening. Angry and

frustrated, all Kael could think about was getting home to see Angel. Despite his

boy"s youth, Angel was often wise beyond his years. Less than six months they had

been together, and he was unsure quite when he had known that going home to

Angel, sharing his day with him, listening to the boy talk about college, had become

the most important part of his day. Like the youth he was, Angel needed constant

reassurance and displays of affection, but he still managed so often to say exactly

what Kael needed to hear.

Then there were other times when Angel was so immature it drove Kael nuts.

On his way to Vauxhall Cross Underground, a group of young women, smartly

dressed office workers in their early twenties, headed toward him. From twenty feet

away, they began whispering to each other while looking at him. His imposing

height and lean, muscular frame set him apart, and with his granite jaw and

intense blue eyes, he was a magnet for young females. Looking straight ahead, he

avoided eye contact, thinking only of getting home to the peace and quiet of his flat

and the anticipation of sex with Angel.

The women passed and were a couple of feet behind him when they broke into

wild giggles. “Nice arse as well as the rest of you,” one of them called out. “Want to

keep us company?”

Enraged at being treated like a piece of meat, Kael turned on them. “Go to

hell. I"m queer!”

Startled and obviously intimidated by his size and booming voice, the women

fell silent, stared at him in alarm for a few seconds, and hurried off. Kael watched

them go, feeling like a bully. They weren"t much older than Angel, and despite his

boy"s intelligence, he could behave like a kid at a moment"s notice. He"d say the

same stupid things to a good-looking man if he was out with his school friends.

Turning on his heel, Kael strode after the young women. “Wait,” he called.

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

19

One of them saw him coming and screamed. In another second, they were all

screaming while attempting to run away, tottering on high stiletto heels, arms

waving like scarecrows.

“Stop right there please, sir.” Two uniformed constables began crossing the

road, darting through heavy evening traffic toward him.

“Christ!” He stood still while they approached.

“Do you have a problem with those ladies, or were they having a problem with

you?” The two young officers were both shorter than Kael. They stood about two feet

back and separated about three feet from each other. Kael knew the stance. They

were ready to take him down if he tried to run. They had no idea he could kill them

both and flee the scene without anyone seeing him.

“They were being stupid, so I told them off,” he said. “But I didn"t mean to

frighten them. I was trying to apologize.”

The slightly taller of the two constables, a good-looking blond man with rosy

pink cheeks and an arrogant attitude, said, “Do you do that sort of thing often, sir?”

Still hurt and insulted about losing his teaching position, Kael"s jaw clenched

as his anger flared again. “I"m reaching into my pocket for my identification.” From

the inside pocket of his leather jacket, he withdrew his SIS identification card. His

top security clearance had never been removed, meaning the police could not detain

him even momentarily without the permission of his superiors.

The young constables looked at it and stepped away. “Thank you, sir. Have a

good evening.”

Kael walked quickly into the Underground. All he wanted was to get home to

his beautiful flat on the Thames—and to Angel.

20

Fyn Alexander

Chapter Three

The minute Kael opened the front door, he heard two voices. Quietly he closed

it and listened. Angel"s distinct American accent rose up, along with the laughter

that always lifted Kael"s heart. An English accent responded, a young man whose

voice had broken no more than a couple of years ago and was still light and pure,

just like Angel"s. It must be Jack, Angel"s new friend.

In the living room, Angel"s laptop sat on the coffee table. And thrown on the

couch where anybody could sit on them were the expensive Irlen lenses Kael had

bought the boy to protect his sensitive eyes from the light. Angry at his

carelessness, Kael picked them up, folded in the arms, and placed them safely on

the coffee table. On silent feet, he followed the voices to the dungeon door. The

dungeon was a third bedroom Kael had converted five years ago when he had first

bought the flat.

Angel was still wearing the smart black trousers, white shirt, and red and

black striped tie he wore to the expensive sixth form college Kael had sent him to.

The other boy, as slender and pretty as Angel, in a matching school uniform,

wandered about admiring the leather sling, the flogging post, the torture table and

chair. They looked like a couple of yaoi boys. Kael had never heard of yaoi until he"d

spotted one of Angel"s graphic novels on the coffee table one day. It was full of

stories and pictures of pretty, androgynous boys making out. If they"d had that stuff

when he was a kid, he would probably have read it too.

Following Jack, Angel flicked his chin up to throw his soft, very light blond

hair away from his eyes. “It"s really the slave who"s in charge, you know.”

“The slave? How?” The other boy, with dark wavy hair falling past his collar,

stopped to stroke the smooth black leather of the tabletop.

Angel stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. “The master has to stop when

the slave tells him. It has to be consensual. Safe, sane, and consensual. I read that

on the Internet. But it means the slave is really in charge. The master just thinks

he is. It"s all about the slave. You really have to be an attention whore to be a

slave.”

“I wouldn"t mind being a whore of any kind for your man. That picture you

showed me of him is so fucking gorgeous.”

Fists clenching involuntarily, Kael just stopped himself from barging in. He

wasn"t ready just yet to let them know he was there, but Angel had no business

talking about their relationship to an outsider and he had been told numerous times

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

21

never to show a picture of Kael to anyone. The fact that they were living a civilian

life now was irrelevant. His training was ingrained. Never create unnecessary

evidence.

Angel sighed. “My daddy is so hot.”

“Don"t the neighbors complain about you screaming?” The dark-haired boy

laughed. “I"d scream my head off if I was getting whipped or even just fucked by a

man like him.”

Angel spread his arms. “No. This room is soundproofed.”

“Where did you meet him, your daddy?” Jack said
daddy
in a dreamy voice,

dragging out the vowels. He had that gay voice that Kael hated and had always

been careful never to pick up. If Angel started talking like that, he"d make him

sorry. He listened carefully. If Angel made any reference to how they met, he must

stop him immediately, but surely his boy would not be so stupid.

“Long story,” Angel said vaguely.

Kael released a breath.
Sensible boy
. But he was still revealing far too much,

and he had no right to bring some boy from school into Kael"s dungeon. He wasn"t

crazy about his bringing a friend to the flat at all, but Angel lived there now too and

he had to be allowed the freedom to have friends. Kael wanted him to have friends

his own age and feel like he belonged in England.

Jack pointed and asked, “What"s that? It looks like something from gym class

in primary school.”

Angel walked over to the leather-topped apparatus that looked like a vaulting

horse. “Daddy throws me over it and fucks me or spanks me.” Kael could hear the

grin in Angel"s voice. He loved Angel"s bright-eyed smile, but he was growing more

and more angry with him for talking about their private life. The boys had their

backs to him so, without a sound, he stepped inside the dungeon and came up

behind them.

“I wish he"d throw me over it and fuck me silly,” Jack said, and both of them

burst out laughing. “I"d have him begging me, not the other way around. Begging

for my arse.” The boy deepened his voice, supposedly imitating Kael, whom he had

never met. “Please let me fuck you, beautiful slave boy. My cock is bursting for you.”

Angel joined in. “My cock longs for you, and my belt wants your ass.”

Jack swatted Angel, and Angel swatted him back as they fell onto the horse,

their high-pitched laughter filling the dungeon. “Have you ever been fucked?” Angel

managed to ask, wiping tears from his eyes.

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