by Christi Snow
He didn’t think it was a good idea for the two of them to even be friends. His attraction was too strong to ignore, and Ryder sure as hell wouldn’t be open to exploring it.
He put the car in park and sat in the dim light, quiet for a moment to still his nerves. This was no big deal. He came over and had dinner with his friends all the time. He was making this into a much bigger scenario than it should be.
Exiting the car, he shrugged on his jacket, a new one to replace the one he’d given the taxi driver the week before. It still didn’t feel right like his other one had. But being uncomfortable in his own skin had been the norm since that night with Ryder. Ever since then, everything had been off.
Stig rang the doorbell on the huge, black steel doors of Mac’s home. The bell echoed inside, and he shook his head. This place was so over the top. Mac had bought it when he got his second big publishing contract. But even though the place was massive, it suited the author, especially the library that Mac guarded like it was Fort Knox. That was his private sanctuary. Well, probably his and Tommy’s now that Tommy had moved in.
That brought mental visuals of the two of them having sex in the room surrounded by books. Stig swiped at his face. While both men were gorgeous, the idea of them going at it like a porn reel in his head made him feel slightly sick. Once upon a time, he’d been completely and totally in love with Mac. When it came to sex, he still didn’t like the idea of Mac with anyone else, even someone as great as Tommy.
Mac swung open the door with a welcoming grin on his face that quickly transformed into a frown. The man had gone prematurely gray and now that gray gave him true silver fox status, because Mac was truly gorgeous, even scowling with those hypnotic blue eyes like he was now.
“What?” Stig threw up his hands. “You invited me. I still have the message on my voicemail if you want proof.”
“I know that.” Mac rolled his eyes.
“Then why do you look angry that I’m standing here like I was instructed?”
Mac shook his head, but opened the door so Stig could come into the house. “Because you had that same look on your face that you had every time you were around Tommy the first three months we dated. I thought you were over that jealousy shit.”
Stig sighed. “Oh, get over yourself, Mac. I sure as hell have. For fuck’s sake, you’re engaged to the man, and anyone can see how perfect the two of you are together. I don’t know what you think you saw, but it was your imagination.” He thrust a nice bottle of wine into Mac’s hand. “Here. Thanks for inviting me.”
Mac examined the label. “Thanks,” he muttered before squinting at Stig. “So, you’re cool with everything?”
“Of course I am. Have you already forgotten that I was the one who was instrumental to you winning Tommy’s heart last year? That never would have happened if I wasn’t okay with it. In fact, I’ll even go a step further and say I’m happy for the both of you. You’re a perfect match.”
The suspicious look on Mac’s face melted away with a grin. “We really are, aren’t we?”
“Aww, there’s my lovesick fool.” Stig shook his head and patted Mac on the back. “So, I know you miss seeing me, but Wednesday night is an odd choice for a dinner party. What’s the occasion?”
Mac tilted his head. “Come on in and join everyone else. It will all be revealed soon enough.”
Stig snorted out a laugh. “I thought you were an author not a magician.”
“Didn’t you know? I’m a man of many, many talents.”
They entered the kitchen, although in Mac’s house, that was an understatement. This was no mere kitchen.
On one end of the large room was a cooking area complete with indoor grill and a brick oven for pizza making that utilized the original, hand-formed bricks used to build the entire house.
At the other end was a small sitting area that was bigger than most people had for the full-sized living rooms in their homes. Two couches and several club chairs clustered in front of the huge fireplace. A massive, built-in banquet table separated the two spaces. This room was where most of Mac’s casual gatherings were held.
Tonight Tommy, Emily, and Ryder all sat in front of the fireplace end of the room. Across the space, he met Ryder’s gaze, and his breath caught in his chest. It had only been a few days since he’d seen him, but it felt far longer. His heart rate sped up.
He seriously had to get a grip on this infatuation.
He turned his back on the group, taking Ryder out of his line of sight. Instead, strode over to the table where a tray of snacks sat. He grabbed a cracker and stuffed it into his mouth, not even thinking about what he’d grabbed.
Mac frowned at him.
“What?” Stig asked.
“Didn’t you eat today?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Because you just shoved a cracker full of crab meat into your mouth, and the last time I checked, the taste of crab made you violently ill.”
At those words, Stig could suddenly taste the remnants of the foul seafood in his mouth. His stomach heaved, but he swallowed and forced down the nausea by pure will.
“Water?” he choked out, but he was already focused on the refrigerator. He opened it, snatched one out, cracked the top, and then chugged down half the bottle.
Mac had followed him into the kitchen, and Tommy joined them, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “What’s going on?” he asked in a low voice.
“That’s what I’m wondering.” Mac nodded at Stig. “This one is acting weirder than normal.”
Stig rolled his eyes at the two of them, not liking their intense focus. Would they be able to see his lust for Ryder? If so, Tommy would cut off his balls while Mac held him down.
“You two love to create drama where there is none. Come on. Let’s go join the rest. I want to hear your news.”
He ignored their curious looks and tried to appear nonchalant as he strode toward the sofas where Ryder and Emily sat, chatting. The conversation between them ceased as Stig joined them, and then they all looked at the newly engaged couple expectantly.
Stig stole a glance at Ryder out of the corner of his eye. He must be having a good day. There was no sign of the wheelchair anywhere, and he had a cane propped up against his leg. And damn, he looked good. He wore a plaid, flannel, button-down shirt over his fitted T-shirt. The plaid had a shade of blue in it that matched the exact shade of his eyes. Stig desperately wanted to see the effect, but couldn’t be so blatant in his regard. He had to stay away from Ryder.
Tommy cleared his throat, and Stig gave the couple his attention. Mac and Tommy walked around and stood between the sitting area and the fireplace. Their hands remained interlocked. Connected. They exchanged a single look between them that said so much, it made Stig’s throat tighten.
Why did he always fall for the unattainable guy? He wanted what they had so much it hurt. It wasn’t something he’d ever consciously focused on before this past weekend. Maybe that was why he was so caught up in the idea of Ryder.
After sleeping with Ryder twice now, he was conscious of just how much comfort there came from having another human in bed with him. He’d never had that. Even when he dated Mac, they rarely slept together because Mac had a hard time shutting off his brain. It was easier just to have sex and part ways. That way, Mac could get in and out of bed to jot down book ideas as much as he needed.
“We’ll have dinner in just a little bit, but first, we wanted to tell you why we asked you here,” Tommy said with a small secret smile at Mac. “As you all know, next week is Thanksgiving. We already planned to spend it together. Well, we’ve decided to change exactly where we’ll be doing that celebration. Instead of having it here, we’re going to take a private jet Wednesday. It’s already booked, and the flight plan is plotted.” Tommy stopped talking and lifted Mac’s hand, squeezing it.
Mac pulled him forward and kissed him.
Emily—Mac’s agent and best friend—squawked in outrage. She was high maintenance, high-strung, sm
arter than a whip, and a fun addition to their testosterone-filled group. “Mac, stop mauling your fiancé. Tell us the rest. Where are we going and why?”
Mac grinned at her. “You know my mom is in Vegas for the month.”
Emily screamed. “You’re getting married.” She jumped off the couch, and Mac caught her as she flew at him.
Ryder looked at Tommy, an odd expression on his face that Stig couldn’t read. “Is she right?” He stood as he asked. Stig followed.
Tommy’s grin couldn’t get any wider. “Yes, and we want you all to come with us. It’s already arranged. We’re all going to Vegas so Mac and I can get married. The hotel rooms, the flight plan, the itinerary, and the chapel...it’s all booked. All we lack is verification from our closest friends that they’ll be there with us. What does everyone say?”
There was no doubt about Emily’s answer since she continued to squeal and bounce around.
“Count me in,” Stig said. “You know me...I’m always up for a good time, and Vegas boasts the best.”
“Ry, you’ll come, right?” Tommy studied his brother who was being suspiciously quiet.
Instead of answering, Ryder glanced at Stig. Stig could suddenly see what bothered Ryder. The other night at the bookstore had been too much. There would be no way he would be able to handle the mental stimulation of Vegas with the crowds, noise, and flashing lights.
“Don’t worry, Ryder,” Stig said. “I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with the old married folks. You and me...we’ll do Vegas like it’s supposed to be done.”
Relief shone in Ryder’s eyes. He understood what Stig was trying to tell him. Stig would have his back in a sea of strangers. Ryder would not be left vulnerable.
Ryder cleared his throat. “Well, I can’t pass up an offer like that. Partying with Stig and watching my brother get married sounds like the perfect weekend. Count me in.”
Tommy nodded and wrapped an arm around Ryder in a quick hug. “Excellent, but I think I should be worried about Stig corrupting you.” He gave Stig the stink eye.
If only Tommy realized all the different ways Stig wanted to corrupt Ryder. Instead he played the innocent act.
“Who me?” He shook his head and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Tommy snorted. “You forget I’ve heard the stories from Mac. I’m not sure I trust my little brother’s innocence in your way too-experienced hands.”
“Tom, seriously, stop.” Ryder had flushed beet red, and he ducked his head.
Considering Tommy had just called him a manwhore, he really should be the one who protested this line of discussion. “Yeah,” Stig agreed. “I think that’s enough of that conversation. I think my reputation got slightly overblown somewhere along the way.” He squinted at Mac.
Mac had been deep in discussion with Emily, so he’d missed what they’d been talking about. But he must have sensed Stig’s glare. He leaned over. “Why do I feel like my ears are burning? What are we talking about?”
Tommy wrapped his hand around Mac’s waist in one of those subconscious moves that left Stig aching. “We were just discussing Stig’s...” Tommy cleared his throat. “Um...predilections and whether he would corrupt Ryder with them.”
“Why?” Mac looked confused. “Is Ryder planning to whip his ass?”
“Oh my god. Mac!” Nobody was supposed to know that shit about him. Mac had discovered it accidentally shortly after they broke up and now Ryder and everyone else in their small group knew. Embarrassment and shame swamped him. His reasons for needing BDSM weren’t normal. It wasn’t about a kink fetish, although there was nothing wrong with that. But shouldn’t normal people be able to feel the emotional connection he sought without pain? What did that say about him?
Tommy’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Emily snorted out a laugh. “Why did I always picture you as the Dom rather than the sub?” She tilted a questioning glance at him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Stig ran his hand over his face.
A light touch grazed the edge of his lower back, and he stiffened both at the tinge of pain and surprise. Ryder. Offering his quiet support. Stig wanted to sink into that touch. Melt into the comfort it offered. But he couldn’t. He stepped away. It was time to regain control of his life.
***
The rest of the evening settled into the relaxed rhythm of a small group of friends planning a trip for the next week. They ate. They discussed the wedding. They drank. The entire time, Stig studiously tried to avoid getting too close to Ryder or engaging him in discussion. He just couldn’t.
But that didn’t last as Ryder cornered him by the bathroom at the end of the night. “Did I do something wrong?” Ryder asked, his brow furrowed.
“No, of course not.”
“Then why are you treating me like I have the plague?” Ryder’s expression radiated hurt.
“I’m not. Really. Everything’s fine.”
“Whatever.” Ryder rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously not believing that load of bullshit. “Listen, it doesn’t matter much anymore, except it’s bugging me, not knowing what happened to my phone. Do you know what happened to it last week after the bookstore? Did you put it somewhere in my house?”
“Why would Stig have had your phone or been in your house?” Tommy asked from behind them, and they froze.
Stig could read the exact same thought in Ryder’s suddenly wide gaze. Fuck.
Neither one of them had realized Tommy had joined them in the hall, and he really wouldn’t understand their new friendship. All joking aside, Ryder was too innocent to run in Stig’s circles.
Stig turned to look at Tommy.
Suspicion blanketed Tommy’s expression as he scowled at Stig.
“Oh, come on, Tommy,” Ryder said. “Chill. I had a headache the other night at your engagement. Stig helped me get home, that’s all. It’s no big deal.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me? Mac and I could have taken you home.”
“Exactly why I didn’t say anything to you.” Ryder nodded. “If I’d told you, you would have cut your celebration short to coddle me. It was your night, and Stig was there. I was fine with him.”
Tommy gave Stig a look that should have shrunk his balls. It was a look that said Stig was Jack the Ripper and the worst pedophile combined.
Ryder saw the same expression and took offense. He shoved at Tommy. “Hey, I told you to cool it. Stig is supposed to be your friend. You need to get off whatever is going through your head right now. I am not a teenager you need to protect, and even if I was, there is no fucking way you’d need to protect me from Stig. He’s a good guy.”
Tommy stopped short of laughing out loud at that assertion, and even Stig could see the effort it cost him. “I have no problem with Stig. But Ry, no, I don’t see him as someone you need to hang out with. Stig’s crowd is very different from yours.”
Stig couldn’t just let the insult against Ryder slide. “Fuck you, Tommy. From what I’ve seen, Ryder is an adult, fully capable of making his own choices. Regardless of that...” He turned to Ryder, whose eyes blazed with temper. “No, I don’t know where your phone went, Ry. I never saw it after the bookstore. Now, I think it’s about time for me to head out. I’ll see you both when we fly out for Vegas.”
And wasn’t that shaping up to be a fan-fucking-tastic trip? Fuck.
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder: I’m sorry my brother was such an asshole last night.
Stig: Don’t worry about it. He’s protective. Nothing wrong with that.
Ryder: Pfft. When he’s offensive, there’s something wrong with it.
Ryder: You’re still planning to come to Vegas, right?
Stig: Yeah. Someone has to keep an eye on you.
Ryder: I don’t need a babysitter.
Stig: No, but didn’t you hear your brother...I might need one. Someone to keep me on the straight and narrow.
Ryder: Ha, I think I’d rather you pr
ove Tommy right and corrupt me.
Ryder
No answer. Ryder looked at his phone for what seemed to be the millionth time in the last thirty minutes and blew out a frustrated sigh. He’d gone too far, hadn’t he? No one wanted to be friends with a guy who didn’t even know how to let loose and have fun in Vegas. Or really anywhere. He’d already proven how inept he was at the basic social interactions in plain old, boring Denver and with Stig specifically.
But he wanted more, to explore more.
A tingling sensation rolled through his groin, reminding him just how horny he had been since the morning he’d cum with Stig laying right beside him. There had been something wholly erotic about that moment. He’d jerked off daily to the memory of when he’d woken up and seen Stig’s eyes dark and predatory, watching him as he came.
Would it be like that with anyone? With a woman? Ryder had tried, but as he jacked off, the only person he’d been able to see in his mind was Stig. But Ryder wasn’t gay, was he? Or was he just fooling himself?
With zero experience to fall back on, he’d tried watching porn just to see what the differences were and how his reactions differed between men vs. women. The problem was...women in porn were annoying...really vocal and generally bad actresses. It distracted him from being able to enjoy the scenes playing out on the vids. Men though were more physical—get to the deed and get it done.
That worked for him, but was he more attracted to men or was it simply the difference in the believability of the scenes? And it could also be attributed to his lack of experience. He knew what it felt like for a guy to orgasm, knew the euphoria that swept through a guy in that moment, so it was easy to imagine himself in a scene with guys. But he couldn’t even imagine how it felt for a woman, with a woman. In the end, he’d ended up more confused than ever.
And frustrated over the fact that the analytical part of his mind wouldn’t shut up, giving him valid excuses for one reaction over another.
The only thing he knew for sure...he wanted to spend more time with Stig to see if he could figure it all out. And that would never happen if he scared Stig away, so he needed to chill the fuck out and not text him again like a needy bitch. No matter how much he really wanted to.
