Saving Mr. Bell

Chapter Sixteen

Arlo

I was all too aware of the precipice I balanced on, that I risked making things worse when I had zero qualifications as a therapist, which was probably what Rudolf needed. Instead, I was relying on blind instinct, and so far today, that hadn’t served me well, my plan to get him to show me how it was done so heavy-handed that he’d seen through it in seconds. It wasn’t all bad, though. He had opened up and at least talked about it.

And instead of distracting him and doing something fun, I’d dragged him back to the piano. The stool was plenty big enough for two if we sat close. No hardship there. Rudolf sat, but kept his fingers on his lap. My heart thudded in my chest as I rested my fingers lightly on the keys. “Mrs. Shufflebottom liked duets.”

“Did she?”

There was no reading anything from Rudolf’s tone. “She did. And she loved Christmas.”

“I’m still not convinced you haven’t made her up.”

I laughed. “If we’re ever back in England at the same time, I’ll take you to meet her.”

“Is there a Mr. Shufflebottom?”

“Why? Are you thinking of having a crack at her? It was the mustache that did it for you, wasn’t it?”

A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of Rudolf’s lips. “I do like a good mustache.”

I ran a hand over my clean-shaven face. “If only I’d known I would have grown one for you. Maybe you would have fallen in with my dastardly plans quicker if I had.”

“Oh, undoubtedly. Lack of a mustache was the major flaw in your plan.”

I took Rudolf being able to laugh and joke as a good sign. Of course, that might change once I started playing. And there was no guarantee he’d feel any desire to join in. A lot hinged on me choosing the right song. With that in mind, I ran through my repertoire, wishing I’d had more time to add to it over the past few years.

Only when the silence had long since grown sharp edges did I play, launching into the first few notes of Fly me to the Moon . I could tell from the slight lift of Rudolf’s eyebrow that the choice of song had surprised him. He’d probably expected me to go for something classical, something more suited to him. But that was precisely why I hadn’t.

This time, I played to the best of my ability. Which wasn’t by any means expert, but was a damn sight better than I’d been playing while I’d waited to see whether Rudolf would leave the bedroom or choose to ignore me. When I reached the point where someone else would normally join in, I held my breath, telling myself that if he didn’t, it was no big deal. It would just mean I’d pushed him too far, too fast, and he wasn’t ready. He was only twenty-three. He had all the time in the world to get over whatever mental blocks had taken root.

When a tentative hand crept into view and started playing an accompaniment to my notes on the higher keys, there was no holding back my smile. By the time we reached the most energetic part, where we both needed two hands, Rudolf was smiling too, the sight bypassing my cock and going straight to my heart. When the song reached its end, I turned to him. “Was that so bad?”

“It was surprisingly good fun,” he admitted. “What else have you got?”

Over the next hour, we worked through several light-hearted songs, Rudolf easily able to improvise the second part, such was the depth of his talent. We’d tried it the other way round on a couple of songs, but I’d failed miserably, much to Rudolf’s amusement. I didn’t mind him laughing at me as long as he was laughing. Seeing him playing the piano and enjoying it was the only gift I needed this Christmas.

“How about something Christmassy?” Rudolf suggested. “I thought you said Mrs. Shufflebottom, who may or may not exist, taught you some Christmas duets.”

“She exists.” I thought for a moment, knowing I risked ruining everything by playing the song I wanted to when it strayed into classical territory. But how could I not when it was the perfect song? “Carol of the Bells,” I announced. “Or as I like to call it, The Carol of Rudolf Bell.”

“You smooth talker, you.”

“That’s me. I’m wasted making documentaries.”

“You are indeed.”

With it being a classical piece, I got the full Rudolf Bell experience, his fingers dancing over the keys to leave me feeling like I always lagged a step behind. The huge smile on his face as he played said he didn’t mind. Once we’d finished, I sat back with a contented sigh. “I can’t believe I just got to play a classical duet with the Rudolf Bell.”

He gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Shut up.”

“I’d ask for your autograph if I had something for you to write on.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I suppose you could sign my chest.”

“I’ll do something to your chest.”

“Promises, promises.”

Rudolf heaved out a sigh, and I gave him time to gather his thoughts. “So I guess I can still enjoy playing. Maybe I just need a break from my usual repertoire.”

“And to play less,” I insisted, determined to hammer the point home. No one could endure a schedule like Rudolf’s for the last few years and stay sane.

“And to play less,” Rudolf agreed. “Although my schedule is set for at least the next year, so that won’t go down well.”

“They work for you. Not the other way round.”

“They work for my father.”

“Then let him play the damn piano.” Something about that tickled Rudolf and he cracked up, tears streaming from his eyes when he eventually stopped laughing. “Care to share the joke?”

“Picture the packed auditorium. The lights go down. A hush falls over the crowd as Jeremiah Bell places his hands on the keys. And then… Twinkle twinkle little star rings out. I did not get my musical talent from my father. It was all from my mother, God rest her soul.” Rudolf stood. “Thank you.”

I squinted up at him. “For what?”

“For showing me that things aren’t as dire as I’d imagined. Even if your method of going about it was about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

“Would you expect anything less from me? You know, given I abducted you from outside a nightclub.”

Rudolf’s only response to that was a small smile before he left the room. I let him go, sensing he might need some time on his own to collect his thoughts. Once a few minutes had passed, I wandered into the adjoining room. It was empty, Rudolf either in the bedroom or bathroom. I picked one of the Christmas ornaments up, the box sitting next to the bare tree we still hadn’t decorated. Would Rudolf want to be involved in decorating it? The evidence of the past week said probably not. I hung the glittery snowman on a branch midway up the tree and picked up another.

“Arlo!”

“Yeah?”

“Come here! You’ll want to see this.”

See what? What could Rudolf possibly have stumbled across in the bedroom that he deemed that interesting? I placed the second snowman back in the box. “Coming.” The sight that met me when I poked my head in the door had me grinning from ear to ear. Rudolf had stripped off his sweatpants and positioned himself on his hands and knees so his arse faced the door. His look back over his shoulder was nothing short of provocative. “Doggie style,” he said with a leer.

“I can see that.”

“He held up a condom. Last one, so… no pressure, but make it worth it.”

I went over to my suitcase and pulled out a box. “Tada!”

“Remind me,” Rudolf said, “to take you to task later for denying you were bringing me here as a sex slave, despite making sure you had a shitload of condoms at your disposal.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Of course it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t!”

“You’re lucky I’m more relieved we’ve got some.” Rudolf jerked his chin at my clothed state. “Clothes off. Only one of us is naked here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rudolf made a sound of pleasure in his throat. “Sir! I could get used to that.”

I rid myself of my clothes in record time, Rudolf’s naked perfection a lure that demanded action. It was funny that I’d ever thought I stood a chance of resisting him. He’d sealed my fate as soon as he climbed into the back of the rental car. I ran a hand over his flank, Rudolf arching his back in response. “I was thinking,” he said, “that this would be a perfect pose for those porn shots of me on the piano. What do you think?”

“I think only I should get to see you like this.” I winced. That had come out sounding far more possessive than I’d intended. Of course, other men would get to see him like this. All his future boyfriends. A husband one day.

“Oh, really,” Rudolf virtually purred. “Want me to have your name tattooed on my arse?”

Yes. “That won’t be necessary.” I rolled the condom on, my cock already hard enough to drill wood.

“What do you want it to say?”

“I don’t want it to say anything because I said no.” I dribbled lube on my cock and gave it a couple of strokes to get my fingers lubed up.

“Arlo Thomas was here?”

“Classy.”

“Property of Arlo Thomas?”

“I don’t think that would stand up in a court of law.”

Rudolf laughed. It cut off abruptly as I slid my lubed fingers between those perfectly muscled cheeks of his and brushed the pad of my thumb over his hole. He relaxed forward, resting his forehead on his arms, the only sound his labored breathing. “So this is how I get you to shut up,” I teased as I pressed the tip of my thumb inside.

“Until I start squealing, yes.”

“You can squeal as loud as you want here and no one will hear you.”

Rudolf laughed silently, his body shaking. “On my first night here, I would have taken that as a threat.”

I pushed my thumb deeper to open him up. In this position, all bets were off to how long I’d last once I got inside him, so the least I could do was offer a measure of foreplay. I gave him a few strokes with my thumb before swapping it out for a finger, and then two, Rudolf gyrating beneath my ministrations. My other hand wasn’t idle, sliding over thigh, stomach, and nipples, before finally wrapping around Rudolf’s hard cock. I kept it still, just feeling the weight of it resting in my hand as I gave his arse my full focus, Rudolf’s moans coming at more regular intervals. And because it was him, they were almost musical. I might have joked about the music we’d been playing being the carol of Rudolf Bell. This, though. This was the carol of Rudolf Bell.

“Fuck me, Arlo. Fuck me like you mean it.”

How was I supposed to turn down a request like that? And I did mean it as I climbed on the bed, rested my hands on his lower back, and pushed slowly inside. This would be someone else soon. But today, it was me. And I was going to make him come so hard he’d see stars.

We found a rhythm quickly, Rudolf’s back muscles flexing as I drove into him and he pushed back. In this position, he personified topping from the bottom, Rudolf still managing to be the one in charge. I stroked his cock while I fucked him. Or at least I thought I did, but maybe it was more Rudolf fucking my fist. We filled the room with harsh pants and moans as we worked toward our common goal. My hands left indentations on his skin from how hard I gripped him as I thrust harder and deeper, straining to fuck him the way he wanted it. “I could fuck you forever,” I gasped out, barely aware of what I was saying as pleasure gathered at the base of my spine.

Rudolf shook beneath me with silent laughter. “Lovely sentiment, but I’d be way too sore.”

We let our bodies do the talking after that, coming so close together it was as near as damn it simultaneous. Certainly the closest I’d ever managed. I dealt with the condom immediately before joining Rudolf in the bed, my lover still breathing heavily. He turned his head toward me and I kissed him. Kissing was the one thing missing from the fuck I knew would prove the yardstick for sexual partners for years to come.

We lay together under the covers for some time, sometimes kissing, sometimes talking about meaningless stuff, sometimes tracing patterns on each other’s skin, but always touching. It was a moment in time I wished I could freeze. A moment that told me I’d been right to fear falling for Rudolf, but that it was too late because I already had.