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Page 18

by Christi Snow


  He lifted up on his knees, pulled Ryder’s cock up off his belly, and notched it right at his hole. “Are you okay with me riding you?”

  Ryder’s gaze focused down to where the two of them were about to become one. His tongue darted out as he wet his lips. “Yes, please...”

  Stig lowered down. He met some slight resistance at first, but he pressed into the deliciously sweet intrusion, and the head of Ryder’s cock burst through that first ring of muscles, causing them both to still and groan.

  As Stig adjusted to Ryder’s size, he gently rocked up and down, each time taking the man deeper inside him.

  Ryder clutched at Stig’s thighs, spread on each side of his torso. “You’re so tight, hot...you feel so good. Stig!”

  Listening to Ryder come apart while they were joined jacked Stig’s arousal even higher. He rode Ryder up and down, faster and faster until Ryder’s shaft sank balls deep inside him, rubbing across his prostrate with every thrust. His orgasm boiled in his balls, but he kept pushing it back, not wanting this amazing moment to end.

  Ryder flexed his hips in time to Stig’s gyrations. Without any warning, his balls tightened, and he shot white cum all over Ryder’s torso, painting him with his essence.

  At the same time, Ryder’s rhythm faltered and he curled up into Stig, slamming home as he yelled out his release. Deep inside his ass, heat flooded the condom as Ryder orgasmed.

  Stig wasn’t sure if he managed a second orgasm or if he just continued to jerk and spasm at least three times longer than his usual load. Completely drained, he collapsed into the mess on Ryder’s chest. His heartbeat roared in his ears, and he panted, trying to find the energy to move.

  He was so blissed out, he wasn’t sure if Ryder was alive or dead. He really should check that...when he found his muscles again.

  Slowly, the world came back into focus. Beneath him, Ryder heaved panting breaths, his sweat coating Stig’s palms. He really should move, give the guy some space to breath.

  Ryder brushed a kiss across the damp hair stuck to Stig’s temple. “That was amazing.” His voice was low and slurring a bit as he wrapped his arms around Stig and slowly slid his fingers up and down Stig’s spine in a soothing caress. “I hope that worked for you, because I’m going to want to do that again.”

  Stig lifted his head and kissed the scruff on Ryder’s jaw. “It definitely did. How about we go take a shower, and then we can start all over again?”

  “Count me in.”

  ***

  Stig

  They hadn’t left their suite since returning from the wedding. Between the two of them, they’d had more orgasms than two men should be able to have in a twenty-four hour period.

  That’s probably why Stig’s face kept breaking out into a smile. He caught himself doing it again—smiling like a loon—when Ryder opened the door to let room service bring their late lunch into the suite. They both desperately needed to replace the diminished nutrients in their bloodstream before they checked out to catch their charter flight.

  “It would be great if you could take that out to the terrace,” Ryder instructed the server as he followed slowly behind, leaning heavily on his cane.

  Stig went to follow, but his phone buzzed with an incoming text. He glanced down at it.

  Emily: I won’t make the flight. Something has come up. You all go without me.

  Stig frowned at his phone. She hadn’t come back to the hotel last night. What the hell was going on that could cause her to miss their charter flight back to Denver? It wasn’t like it was a normal airline ticket that she could just exchange for a later plane.

  He hit her number to call her.

  “Hey, Stig. I’m sorry, did you get my message?” She sounded breathless and distracted.

  “I did. Are you okay?”

  “Um...yeah. Sure.” Her voice cracked a little and she hesitated. “Just fine. Everything’s just peachy.”

  Stig lifted the phone from his ear to look at it in confusion. She sounded teary, and “peachy” was never a word that Emily would use. “Where are you? We can delay the flight. Let me come get you.”

  “No, no, don’t do that. I’m good. Just, um, I kind of did something last night, and I have to take care of it today.”

  A cold chill spread through him. “Emily, you’re scaring me. Where are you? We’re not leaving Las Vegas without you.”

  Ryder re-entered the room, the server trailing behind him from the veranda. Ryder glanced at Stig with concern.

  Emily half-laughed, half-sobbed before blowing out a harsh breath. “You’re going to make me admit this, aren’t you? I was hoping to escape without anyone ever knowing. I got married last night.”

  “Married? Emily!”

  Ryder’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer.

  He knew how Ryder felt. While he didn’t know her that well, after three failed marriages, Emily was extremely vocal about how she would never do that again, no matter who asked.

  “I know. How cliché of me, right?” This time her laugh was much more of a hysterical sob. “But I’m not leaving here until I sort it all out, and my new husband appears to have disappeared in the middle of the night. I can’t leave until I find him to sign the annulment papers. But Stig, I don’t need anyone else around to witness this humiliation.”

  “How about a friend?” Stig asked. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have some support here with you?”

  “No, I really, really don’t want that. Go back to Denver. Pretend I never told you any of this and don’t you dare mention it to Mac. I’ll be home tomorrow, and the whole thing will just be a bad memory.”

  “Em, I don’t like this.”

  “You have no choice in the matter. You’re not my keeper. I’m a big girl. I can handle this all by my lonesome. I promise. Really, I’d rather do this alone.”

  Stig ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t like it, but she was right. She was an adult, and he couldn’t force her to accept his help. What was it with no one around him letting him help?

  “At least tell me who the guy is in case you disappear. I’ll at least have a place for the police to start.”

  “Stig, it’s not like that. He’s not someone evil.” Her voice softened and there was a note of something he’d never heard from her before...something more emotion-filled that really didn’t sound like her.

  Was it possible she cared for this guy? She had married him, and no matter how drunk she was, Emily wasn’t the type to lose her head...ever.

  He lowered his voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to see if this marriage can work?”

  “Yeah, no. That ship sailed when he ducked out of our complimentary honeymoon suite in the middle of the night. I just have to find him again and get the marriage dissolved. It will be okay.” Her voice cracked again.

  Stig wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince...herself or him? He got the feeling she was barely hanging onto her composure.

  “Okay, I’ll trust your judgment on this, but I still would like a name, just in case.” He grabbed the hotel pen and paper by the phone.

  “Brady Gresham.”

  “Wait a minute.” He knew that name. “Brady? That was the name of the piano player at the jazz club, right?”

  “Yes, which is why it shouldn’t be hard for me to locate him. I know where he works. He won’t be able to duck me for long.” Her voice hardened. For the first time since they’d started this call, she sounded more like the confident and in-charge Emily he had always known.

  “Okay, but if you need anything, I want you to call me. I also need to know when you’re home and how things are progressing. I expect text check-ins every couple of hours until you get this all settled.”

  “Yes, Dad. Wow, who knew you were such a worrier?”

  He never had been before, but in the last year, this group had gotten under his skin. “We’re friends. That means I care about what happens to you. Believe me, I didn’t see it coming, either.”

  Strong arms wrapped around
his waist from behind, and the tension that had been developing down Stig’s spine dissipated.

  “Thanks, Stig. I’ll be in touch. You guys have a good flight home, okay?”

  “Okay. But, Em...I’m serious. Call me. We’re here for you if you need us. You’re not alone, no matter what.”

  “M’kay. Bye.” The line went dead.

  He set his phone on the counter and threaded his fingers through Ryder’s, still wrapped around his waist, and leaned back against his wide chest. This felt right, like coming home.

  “She got married?” Ryder asked.

  “Yeah, it sounds that way.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, she’s trying to locate her missing groom now to take care of it.”

  Ryder stiffened. “Wait a minute. He ditched her?”

  “Sounds like it.” Stig blew out a breath. “She told us to go ahead and leave. In fact, she insisted on it, but it doesn’t feel right to leave her here to handle this alone.”

  “Have you met Emily? If she doesn’t want our help, she sure as hell isn’t going to accept it.”

  “I know. Maybe I should call Mac’s mom.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sometimes you just have to step back and let people handle their own shit.”

  Stig blew out a gusty sigh. “I really would rather they’d let me help. This being friends thing is hard.”

  Ryder chuckled low and turned Stig in his arms, dropping a kiss on his lips. “Yeah, but you’re doing an amazing job at it. Come on. It’s time to eat. Let me take care of you for a little while.”

  Stig brushed his thumb across Ryder’s chin. “I like the sound of that.”

  Hell, he liked the sound of that an awful lot. Maybe this relationship thing wasn’t such a bad idea. He could envision the two of them, relying on one another for a hell of a lot more than just companionship at meals. Suddenly, he could envision a hell of a lot more. Maybe Emily had the right idea. Marriage....

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ryder

  As the limo got closer to Stig’s house, Ryder tensed more and more. He glanced over at Stig, who looked out the window, a frown between his brows, an impatient tapping of his finger on his knee while he listened to someone from the gallery on his cell phone.

  What would happen between the two of them now? While they’d been in Vegas, everything had been amazing and romantic, but would they revert back to being just friends in Denver? There hadn’t been any discussion that led him to believe anything else.

  He thought about the first time he’d been at Stig’s house, when he had been beaten, caught in some sort of bad BDSM scene. That also hadn’t come up since they’d become lovers. How much did Stig need that in his sex life? So far, nothing they’d done had led Ryder to believe Stig was kinky like that, but Ryder knew for a fact he was. Would Stig call someone tonight to beat him and then fuck him? The thought made Ryder feel sick.

  He wanted the two of them to be more—exclusive—but he was pretty sure Stig wasn’t on the same page.

  Ever since they’d gotten off the plane, Stig had been dealing with some issue with the security system at the gallery. He’d been on and off his phone constantly since they’d disembarked. They hadn’t even touched since the plane landed on the tarmac. And as they turned into Stig’s driveway, that hadn’t changed. In fact, Stig barely seemed to notice him sitting there as he glanced out the window toward his house.

  “Okay, Lola,” he said into his cell phone. “I’m home. Let me drop off my stuff, and then I’ll be into the gallery. Fifteen minutes, max.”

  He opened the door, pocketed his phone, and then at the last moment turned back to Ryder. “I had fun, but I have to get to work. There’s been an issue.” He glanced around the car to make sure he had everything and then got out. “I’ll call you.” A firm shoulder squeeze and then he shut the door behind him.

  “Bye,” Ryder said to the closed door, feeling like his heart might just shatter inside his chest. Stig had said he’d call, but that felt like nothing but a brush off. Basically like an, I’ll see you later. So there was his answer. It was just a weekend fling. He knew that had been a distinct possibility going into it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  He watched through the window as the limo driver carried bags up the walkway. Stig unlocked and opened the door without glancing inside, turning to the driver to take the bag. The limo driver stiffened and stepped back from the doorway as if surprised. Stig slowly turned his head to follow the driver’s gaze into the interior of the house.

  Something was wrong. Ryder opened the limo door, grabbed his cane, and hobbled up the sidewalk to help.

  As he walked up, he could see through the doorway. Someone had destroyed Stig’s home. Stunned fright overwhelmed him as he stumbled to a halt at the sight. Thank god Stig had been out of town when this happened.

  Stig had his phone out and dialed the police.

  Ryder reached for him. Stig was so pale he looked like he was about to pass out, but he shook Ryder's hand off his arm and paced away.

  Ryder tried not to let the rebuff hurt. He approached the door.

  “Ryder,” Stig growled. “Go back to the limo. This is none of your business.” His tone was harsh and hard.

  Stig turned to the limo driver. “Take him home. He doesn’t need to be here for this. I’ve got it handled.”

  “Stig, I can help.”

  Stig shook his head. “No, I don’t want your help. Go home, Ryder.”

  Ryder stood still for a moment, lost in debate about what to do. It didn’t seem right leaving Stig here alone to deal with this, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t want him.

  “Are you ready?” the limo driver asked, touching Ryder’s sleeve lightly.

  With a final glance at Stig’s stiff back, Ryder reluctantly nodded and went back to the waiting car.

  He settled into the seat and took a final glance at Stig. He looked so alone standing outside his doorway with his jaw and fists clenched. Ryder hated that, but he wouldn’t be the guy who forced himself upon another, especially when he wasn’t wanted.

  ***

  After the limo was out of sight, Stig waited half a minute before he sank to the ground, his shaking legs refusing to hold him up anymore. When he’d talked to Lola, he had a feeling that something was really wrong. He’d made mistakes in his life, and now he was paying for them by having to push Ryder away. He couldn’t endanger Ry by letting him get involved in this.

  He clutched the phone, listening to the dispatcher on the other end telling him to stay calm and outside his house...that the intruder may still be inside.

  Intruder? No, not quite.

  Peter.

  A shudder worked its way down Stig’s spine as the waves of panic swept over him. Spray-painted on the living room wall in vivid blood-red was the word, WHORE. Stig didn’t think Ryder had gotten close enough to see it.

  Thank fuck, Ryder was gone and safely away from here if Peter showed up again or god forbid, if he still lurked nearby. Stig glanced around nervously, but his neighborhood sat quiet, although there were more cars than normal with it being Thanksgiving weekend.

  He hated the vulnerable feeling of being here alone, but Stig would do anything to keep Ryder safe, including sending him away. He hadn’t missed the flash of pain in Ryder’s eyes, but he refused to let Ryder get anywhere close to this mess. He deserved so much better than the kind of guy who would get mixed up with someone like Peter in the first place.

  He knew a long time ago that Ryder was too good for him. He’d let himself get caught up in the fantasy of more over their time in Vegas. Looking back at the word on his wall, he had to work to swallow down the nausea. Fuck, he wasn’t relationship material. It had been a mistake to even consider it, one that he had to fix now.

  The sound of a siren echoed in the distance.

  “Do you hear that, Mr. Minton?” the dispatcher asked over the cell phone. “The police car is just around the corner from
you now.”

  Slowly, the blood began to flow into his extremities as the panic began to wane. He stood as two patrol cars pulled up almost simultaneously with an unmarked beige car parking behind them.

  Stig’s hands still shook, but he walked to the end of the sidewalk to greet the police officers. The middle-aged, balding, fit man from the unmarked car stepped forward. He wore a dark suit with a badge hanging around his neck. “Are you Stig Minton?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Carmine from the Denver PD. Can you walk me through what you know about what happened here?”

  The four uniformed police officers walked into his house, carrying toolboxes and cameras. Stig stayed on the front porch with the detective and explained that he’d just gotten home and what he knew.

  “So, you have no idea when this might have happened?”

  “No, I’ve been out of town in Las Vegas since Wednesday morning.”

  “Okay, we’ll talk to your neighbors and see if anyone noticed anything suspicious. You haven’t been inside yet is that correct?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want to disturb anything before you got here.” And what he’d seen had already been enough to make him ill.

  “Okay, let’s go in. Don’t touch anything. I just need you to look and see if you can tell what’s been stolen.” The detective assumed this was a normal robbery.

  Stig was pretty sure it was anything but.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Ryder

  Four hours later, Ryder rolled his wheelchair into his art studio, hoping to get some work done on the photographs he’d taken over the weekend. When he’d arrived home, he’d taken a migraine pill to stave off the coming pain as a result of the long trip and the stress of the events after arriving back in Denver. Then he’d fallen into a hard sleep. The medicine had worked. The migraine had never fully developed. But now, he felt groggy, and his brain felt more than a little muddled.

  But even with the fogginess, the pain in his chest wracked him. Everyone had warned him, told him that Stig wasn’t the guy to give his heart to, but he hadn’t listened. He’d been so sure what was between the two of them was more. And for him, it had been more. Hell, even with the way his heart felt like it was being crushed right inside his chest, he wouldn’t have changed any of his actions.

 

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