“I know. It’s good for us to want a little when we already know we can have whatever we desire. You will understand what I mean as the night goes on. It feels good.” Charles was speaking softly, and it felt intimate, those words only for him.
He nodded, caught like a fly in a web. All he could do was listen close.
“You’re used to things moving faster, I know. That can be sexy too. But first times aren’t something we ever get back, and I want it to be so good for you.”
“It’s been a little bit.” And he hadn’t done that a lot anyway. Blowjobs and handjobs were less intimate.
“That makes two of us. I haven’t since Tad.” Charles leaned back to look at him. “I apologize. I shouldn’t keep bringing him up. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You loved him. You can talk about him.” It wasn’t like Mister Charlie had left his husband for Ryder or something.
He got a slow nod. “I did. Thank you.” Charles took a breath and straightened up. “What time do we need to be where? Because I was promised another preshow milkshake.”
“Seven o’clock is when the show starts. So we can have a shake and wander, if you want. We have lots of options to explore, even the casino floor.”
“Do you gamble? I’ve played some poker, but I don’t enjoy the gambling part as much.”
“I don’t. Bull riding was enough, but I like to watch everyone else.”
“So let’s wander and drink.” Charles rummaged around in the shopping bag and pulled out the M&Ms. “Peanut. My favorite.”
“I know. You eat the yellow ones first, every time.” Every single time.
Mister Charlie got up off the couch and offered him a hand. “I do. I love that you pay attention to the things that matter to me, and even the little things that are unimportant.”
He got a quick kiss. “Come on. I’ll share the yellow ones with you.”
16
Charles led Ryder into the hotel bar by the hand. He liked holding the cowboy’s hand, but he also wanted to make it very clear to whoever this ad guy was that Ryder—well, that the cowboy belonged to someone, for lack of a better phrase.
Or perhaps there was no better phrase. He felt protective right now, and along with that came a certain level of possessiveness, because he didn’t intend to let anyone force Ryder into anything he didn’t want to do.
Not even a twin brother, who clearly made it difficult for Ryder to refuse him.
He didn’t feel as if Roper was mean or cruel, more careless, definitely reckless. Roper was the more extroverted of the two for sure and had probably gotten Ryder into many awkward situations like this one.
Hopefully not just like this one.
“Do you know who we’re looking for?” Roper had headed to his room to shower and planned to meet them. “Should we just sit at the bar?”
“I know him. He’ll recognize me. We can get a table, or otherwise I have to pretend to be Roper until he shows.”
“All right. Pick a table and let’s sit.” There was no way he was going to allow Ryder to pretend to be Roper.
He examined that thought a second. Did he have the right to do that? To prevent Ryder from doing…anything? He didn’t know, but then again, he supposed he could do whatever Ryder allowedhimto do.
If Ryder needed his support in this, then he would provide it.
They found a table and sat, and he ordered them each a beer. Beer seemed to be in keeping with the evening, even if he did choose a trendy IPA for himself.
Ryder could nurse the beer as long as he wanted to.
“I’m right here,” he said softly and settled his arm over the back of Ryder’s chair.
“Thank you. I know it’s going to be okay. I’m just going to kindly say no.”
He had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be that simple, but he’d said what he needed to. He had Ryder’s back.