Found at the Bookstore

by Christi Snow

  Before he could consider it more, Mac and Tommy stepped out the front doors of the hotel just as Ryder rejoined them.

  “Come on,” Mac called. “I know the temperatures are nice, but let’s go check out our rooms and get this day going. We have a wedding to get prepared for.”

  They headed inside.

  Their rooms were a series of suites all attached with doors in between. There were three suites in total, but all of them had two bedrooms each. Mac had truly gone all out for this trip. Each suite was larger than most people’s apartments, and each one had a slightly different layout.

  The suite Ryder and Stig claimed was the end one and had the bedrooms on the second floor. A small loft above looked out over the living room—a lavish affair with large gas fireplace and a view of downtown Las Vegas that would be phenomenal after dark. All the suites had balconies that opened to a Jacuzzi and infinity swimming pool that were private to only these three rooms.

  “Wow.” Ryder opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

  Stig followed him.

  “I think I need to see if I can pick up a tripod so I can do some night photography from up here tonight.”

  While Ryder took in the views, Stig looked around at the other balconies. “Son of a bitch.”

  Ryder turned to him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, good god. Nothing you want to see.” He quickly grabbed Ryder’s arm and ushered him back into their suite before he got the full view of Mac getting rammed by Ryder’s brother up against the glass of the French doors in their room.

  Ryder groaned as if in pain when he glanced back at Stig. “They’re at it again, aren’t they? Think we can move the wedding up a day just to put the rest of us out of the misery of possibly catching them going at it like rabbits every time we turn around?”

  “Sure,” Stig said. “But you can explain the reason why to Mac’s mom.”

  “Um, no thanks. Thank goodness, Emily is the one next door to them, though. Surely they’ll run out of steam soon. Seriously. It’s not like they’ve been celibate up to this point. How much sex can two men have in a twenty-four hour period?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Stig mumbled.

  Ryder stilled, looking intrigued. “Really?”

  That heat in that look went straight to Stig’s cock and arousal shot through his groin. “No, we are not having that discussion.” He shook his head. “How about you take a quick nap instead? This is liable to end up being a long day.”

  Ryder rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I’m not a toddler. You can take a nap, old man. I’m going downstairs to explore. Text me when they’re all ready to head out.” He grabbed his camera bag and the keycard to the room and stormed out of the room.

  “Nice,” Stig muttered. Nothing like torqueing off his roommate to start the trip. Fucking fantastic.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ryder

  Ryder stepped out of his dressing room at the tailor’s wearing the unhemmed pants for his tuxedo and stumbled to a halt.

  Stig stood in front of the mirror in the same style pants Ryder wore, but his chest was bare. This wasn’t the first time Ryder had seen Stig’s bare torso, but this was the first time he’d been truly hit by his extremely fit and gorgeous physique. Hell, Stig had a true eight pack and tattoos, several gorgeous tattoos.

  Am I drooling?

  He surreptitiously wiped at the edge of his lips. With all the extra saliva in his mouth, he should be.

  A woman crouched in front of Stig, working on pinning the hems. Ryder wanted to shove her out of the way, kneel down there, and slowly unfasten those trousers. What lay beneath the fabric? He wanted to know that more than he wanted his next breath.

  His dick swelled with the idea. The longer this feeling persisted, the less he was worried about it.

  So, he was gay or maybe bi. That was fine by him if it meant Stig would be in his bed.

  But he couldn’t fantasize about that here and now. Hell, his brother would walk in at any moment, and the fitting girl wouldn’t be able to miss the plank distorting the front of his trousers.

  This erection was not going to make this fitting comfortable. Right now, he had a T-shirt on to hide his chubbie, but there would be no hiding it from anyone checking out his inseam. He had to get it under control.

  Think about something else.

  Stig’s gaze met his in the mirror, and another zing of arousal flowed straight across his balls, making them impossibly tighter. Oh, hell.

  “Someday, you’re going to have to take me to the gym and share your workout routine.” His voice sounded wrong even to his ears...deep and gravely.

  “Anytime.” Stig’s gaze dropped to Ryder’s fabric covered abs, heating the flesh as if he’d drawn a finger over his skin. Damn, was it hot in here? “You have a great form already. My trainer could bulk you up.”

  Ryder couldn’t respond. He just nodded mutely, like an idiot. Why was he so awkward? Hell, he’d been friends with Stig for weeks and had managed to converse like a real person. Now that he wanted to seduce the guy, any semblance of smooth charm had fled...like always. God, he was going to die a virgin.

  Stig tilted his head, his gaze narrow as it roamed lower. What did he see? Hopefully not the erection that still pulsed in time with his heart rate Say something.

  But before he could speak, the lady who’d been helping Mac and Tommy in the next room, popped her head into the fitting room. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Sally, you have a phone call from your babysitter. She says it’s urgent.”

  Sally rushed to stand and left the room with a mumbled apology, leaving the two of them alone.

  “Are you okay?” Stig asked.

  Ryder barely bit back the sigh. “You know what? You are no longer allowed to ask me that question. Any time you do, I’m going to beat your ass for it.”

  Stig tensed and his eyes darkened. “You should know enough about me by now to know that isn’t much of a threat.”

  Stig’s eyes turned predatory, and he stepped off the pedestal, approaching Ryder with deliberate intent. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with that question. I’m checking in to make sure you’re okay. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want you to overdo.”

  “And that’s the issue.” Ryder flung a hand at Stig. “That’s not your job. I’m twenty-six years old. I take care of myself. If I choose to overdo, there’s not a damn thing you can say about it. That’s my choice. I’m going to enjoy this trip—every single part of it—and I’m not going to let you hold me back for my own good. I plan to have fun—the fun I choose. If you choose not to participate with me, then that’s your fucking loss.”

  Stig stopped his approach and squinted at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about more than playing the roulette wheel?”

  Ryder stepped up to him, putting them chest to chest, making sure that Stig felt every inch of his hard erection so he knew exactly what he meant.

  Stig’s eyes flared with awareness and lust.

  “Because I am,” he spat out. Then he grabbed the back of Stig’s head and pulled him into a kiss. It was hard, brutal, filled with all the want and need Ryder felt. Stig hadn’t shaved that morning, and the stubble rubbed across Ryder’s lips. He moaned as Stig’s cock hardened behind the placket of his pants. Ryder’s hips flexed automatically, seeking that sinful heat. He wanted more, to feel more of that delicious friction.

  Stig pulled away on a gasp and stumbled a few steps back. His eyes were wild as he glanced around the dressing room, making sure they were still alone.

  “I want you.” Ryder didn’t care who knew that at this point. He was tired of hiding it, fighting Stig on what he wanted. “And I know you want me, too.”

  “Dammit, Ry, we can’t.”

  “Who says? You?”

  “Me, your brother, and society. You’re twelve years younger than me in real years, decades younger in experience. There’s just no way. It’s not fair to you. You need to experiment mor
e, but not with me.”

  Pain scored Ryder’s chest. He wasn’t sure what was worse—Stig condemning him as a partner because of his lack of experience or that he didn’t think Ryder knew his own mind enough to know who he was attracted to and who he wasn’t. Yes, this was an old argument, but every time they had it, the barb struck deeper. No, he may not be as savvy intellectually as he once was, but that didn’t make him an idiot. Did Stig really think he was?

  His lips tingled from the leftover effect of Stig’s kiss, but frustration rolled over him. “You know what, you’re right, Stig. Maybe you’re not the guy for me.”

  Stig flinched.

  That small gesture gave Ryder a modicum of salve on his wounded ego. “But as for my virginity, it’s time for it to go. We fly out Friday, and I am not leaving here the same way I came. Think that through, because after the wedding, all bets are off. Be sure of your decision. I’d hate for you to do something—or in this case, not do something—you’d regret.”

  “Ry—”

  The seamstresses came into the room. “So sorry for the delay.” Sally glanced between the two men and smiled. “I’ll finish with Mr. Minton.” She waved her hand at the other girl. “Mr. Garrett, Tara can take care of you in the other dressing room where the grooms have just finished.”

  Ryder nodded, and with a final glare thrown back at Stig, he followed the other girl. The only good thing about that exchange was that he no longer had to worry about an erection. No, now he had to figure out how to find another guy to hook up with. Vegas had to have gay clubs, right?

  ***

  Stig

  That evening, the group went to a gay jazz nightclub. Unlike a go-go bar or dance club, this place didn’t have strobe lights and pounding music that might mess with Ryder’s brain. Their group had claimed a small table in the corner just to the side of the piano. Emily chatted up the bearded, tattooed piano player. He was probably the only straight—or he might be bi—guy in the place if the way he kept eyeing her long legs was any indication.

  Stig laughed at some inane joke Mac had told, although he had no idea what the man had said. No, he was too busy watching Ryder look their bartender up and down like he planned to go behind the bar and test out the guy’s “shaker” technique...with Ryder’s dick...in the guy’s ass. The hipster asshole with his sexy little bowtie, suspenders that ran across his thick pecs, and his shirt cuffs rolled up to show his veiny, tattooed forearms. Stig could practically see Ryder’s drool from here.

  Originally, the bartender had been wearing a fedora, but about fifteen minutes ago, he’d placed it on top of Ryder’s head as he laughed and knocked the bartender’s hand away playfully. But regardless of his reluctance to put it on, it had stayed on his head, looking too damn good on him.

  In fact, both the guys looked too damn good together, smiling and joking around. Ryder leaned over and took the bartender’s phone, keying something into it. Were they exchanging phone numbers so they could hook up later tonight?

  Stig clenched his jaw, his temper boiling.

  The rest of the day had passed with Ryder ignoring Stig. He sure hadn’t been smiling and laughing. After their fitting and lunch, they’d gone back to the hotel to nap so they could party half the night tonight. At least Stig had thought they’d planned to nap, but instead Ryder, had mapped out a stag night for the grooms...one filled with gay bars filled with gay guys just waiting for an opportunity to tap Ryder’s virgin ass.

  Virgin.

  While Stig had his suspicions about that before today, conjecture had been one thing. It was nothing like the factual knowledge that there wasn’t another single soul in this world that knew what Ryder looked like during an orgasm, but he knew. And he could keep that knowledge to himself if he chose, but if he didn’t, then Ryder had vowed that someone else would. That idea was slowly killing him inside, especially as Ryder once again exchanged a heated glance with the bartender.

  Mac tapped Stig on the shoulder. “What’s going on with you? You don’t normally play the part of wallflower, no matter where we are.” He swung his hand to display the room filled with sexy men. “And man, we’re in Vegas surrounded by gorgeous guys.”

  “Hey, what am I?” Tommy complained. “We’re getting married tomorrow. You don’t need to be looking at all the eye-candy around us.”

  “There’s no harm in looking, not when I’m about to marry the most breathtaking man in the place.” Mac kissed him. “I meant they were gorgeous for Stig, not me. I only have eyes for you.”

  They exchanged another kiss, and Stig barely resisted rolling his eyes. Even Ryder glanced over with annoyance, which meant he was paying more attention to Stig and the rest of their group than he acted like.

  Mac finally let Tommy’s lips go and refocused on Stig. “So, why aren’t you surfing for some company?”

  “This is your night. What kind of friend would I be if I went out trolling when I’m supposed to be celebrating your upcoming nuptials?” And yeah, sue him, but he said that loud enough so maybe Ryder would hear and feel a little bit guilty.

  But instead of focusing on their tiny group, Ryder reached up to stroke the bartender’s bicep. Fucking hell. Ryder was lucky that his big brother was too wrapped up in his groom to notice the manhandling going on behind his very back.

  Ryder and the bartender were close, but still too far away for Stig to hear their exchange, especially since they’d begun cozily whispering into one another’s ears. But they weren’t so far away that he missed the bartender open his wallet, slide out a card, and tuck it into the front pocket of Ryder’s tight jeans with a very lingering touch.

  Stig clenched his jaw and looked away, meeting Emily’s judgmental smirk from her seat on the piano bench. He could almost hear her unspoken taunt. You know you want to tap that.

  And he did. God help him, he really, really wanted to. The more Ryder ignored him and flirted with other guys, the more he realized he was being a dumbass, missing his opportunity.

  The bartender stepped away to take care of someone else’s order, and Ryder turned back toward their group, his gaze colliding with Stig’s. He expected to see a look of exhilaration in Ryder’s eyes after an obviously successful attempt at connecting, but instead he saw longing and sadness.

  It was the kick in the gut he needed. “Excuse me,” he said and got up from the table to go stand beside Ryder.

  “Will you dance with me?” he asked.

  Ryder’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yeah...yes, I’d like that.”

  Stig pulled Ryder to the dance floor by the hand, his fingers tingling at that small, minor touch that felt so much bigger. Just as they hit the edge of the dance floor, the song transitioned from a fast, swing-style song to something slower and more sultry. Stig wrapped his arms around Ryder and pulled him close, taking in the distinctive smell of Ryder’s aftershave mixed with his manly musk. The combination made him light-headed.

  The two of them swayed in time to the music, their bodies joined from their hips to chests. The sensation was exhilarating. He wanted more of this. More of the two of them together. Intimate. But he still wasn’t sure. He would hate himself for the rest of his sorry life if Ryder regretted anything between them the next day.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered in Ryder’s ear.

  Ryder pulled him closer. “More than I want my next breath.”

  Ryder’s erection pressed into his stomach, making him light-headed as all the blood in his body rushed south.

  They stayed like that, their bodies swaying as one in time to the music for three songs. Then a faster, jazzier song began and they pulled apart. Stig frowned up at the fedora shading Ryder’s eyes, keeping Ryder’s full expression hidden from him.

  “What’s wrong?” Ryder asked.

  “It looks good on you, but I kind of hate that hat.” Stig shook his head. “No, that’s wrong. I hate what that hat represents. You were flirting with him.”

  “Yep, I was.” Ryder grinned at him. �
�But it served its purpose. In the nature of full honesty, I have to tell you that I was doing it just to make you jealous. Jacob has been happily married to his husband for six years. He doesn’t wear his wedding ring to work because it affects his tips. They have a cute little girl named Olivia. That’s what he was showing me on his phone.”

  Stig should probably be annoyed or angry for being manipulated like that, but in this case, he’d agree... the outcome justified the means. “Well, I guess I’m okay with the hat then.” He winked at Ryder. “It does look damn good on you.”

  “I’m happy you approve.” Ryder leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Stig’s nose. He wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised by the action, but after a few stunned seconds, Ryder gave him an easy smile. “Let’s go back and rejoin the party.”

  As they approached the table, Ryder sighed. “Uh oh.”

  “What?” Stig looked at their table.

  Mac and Tommy both frowned at the two of them. Emily and the piano player had disappeared.

  “What do you want to tell them?” Stig asked.

  He wasn’t sure how honest Ryder wanted to be with his brother at this point. This was the equivalent to coming out. They were in a Vegas nightclub, even if it was a more sedate one. This wasn’t the best venue for that type of discussion. Tommy shouldn’t have an issue with it, but it was hard to predict how friends and family would react.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Ryder let out a gusty sigh and squeezed Stig’s hand.

  When they got to the table, Ryder took the offensive and pointed at the two men sitting there. “No, you are not allowed to be unhappy or get all bent out of shape the night before your wedding.” He waved a hand between Stig and him. “This is nothing that either of you need to worry about or even concern yourselves with. Frankly, it’s none of your business.”

  “Ry—” Tommy began with a side-eyed scowl at Stig.

  “No,” Ryder cut him off with a swipe of his hand in the air. “I don’t want to hear it and he sure doesn’t need to.” Ryder nodded at him. “I’ve been working on him for weeks trying to get him to give us a chance. I finally have his cooperation, and I’m not going to let the two of you ruin this for me.”