Chapter 11

After my shower, I towel dry and pull back on the same clothes I wore earlier. I wander into the kitchen, where Ryan is standing by the stove. He hears me come in and gives me a grin over his shoulder. “Hey, want to stay for dinner?”

I hesitate, and he hurries to add, “It’s okay to say no. You probably already have plans…”

“No, actually, I don’t,” I admit. And, honestly? I don’t want to leave just yet. “Dinner sounds great.”

I expect standard bachelor fare—my idea of eating dinner at home is reheated takeout or cold pizza. My freezer is also stuffed with frozen entrees. If I can’t microwave it, I’m not going to try cooking it.

But Ryan knows his way around the kitchen as well as he does in the bedroom. The dinner he whips up—his words—is restaurant quality, on par with our dinner Friday evening. Spicy Thai chicken breasts with sticky rice and mushrooms, and a fresh salad with sesame seed oil and vinegar dressing on the side. It’s better than any takeout I’ve ever ordered, and my moans of pleasure while I’m eating rival those earlier in bed. “God, this is heavenly!” I cry.

“It’s just something I threw together,” Ryan says with a disarming grin.

I shake my head in amazement. “At my place, the only thing I can throw together is a cup of ramen noodles and a bottle of beer.”

Ryan ducks his head in charming embarrassment. “You really arestraight, aren’t you? I didn’t think anyone ate ramen after college.”

“Hey, it’s cheap,” I point out. “And I know how to boil water. Anything more and I have to order in. You’re a fabulous cook, you know that?”

Ryan sort of nods. “I can do a bit more than just boil water,” he admits.

But I don’t stop there. “Hell, I don’t know why you have to pay for sex. I mean, look at you. Sexy, rich, great in bed, awesome in the kitchen. You’re like the perfect catch.” He stares at me for a long moment, until I feel I have to add, “For…you know, a gay man looking for Mr. Right. Don’t look further, right? You’re it.”

“You really think so?” he asks softly.

I’ve said too much, I know it, so I stare at my plate and concentrate on scooping up every stray grain of rice with my fork. Too late, I realize I was sort of gushing, and I can’t take back what I said.

Ryan clears his throat, and I hear his fork clatter against his salad bowl as he spears a lettuce leaf. “It’s hard for me to meet guys,” he tells me. “I don’t know. They’re all so fake, and they’re more into my house or my TV or my golf clubs instead of me. That’s why I like hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re paying me to be here,” I remind him.

He catches my gaze and holds it, the hint of a smile on his face that ignites his eyes. “I paid you to fool around this afternoon. You stayed for dinner because you wanted to. Or am I wrong?”

No, he’s right. “You’re fun to be with,” I say, but it sounds lame even to me.

Ryan sets down his fork and folds his hands in front of himself on the table. “Let me ask you something,” he says, leaning forward a little.

A mix of dread and hope rises within me, and I stop chewing to stare at him like a game show contestant waiting to hear what my prize will be if I choose the correct door. “What?”

“Have you ever felt anything for a guy?” Ryan wants to know. “One of your…I don’t know, your clients, maybe, or a friend you fooled around with back in school. Anything at all?”

You mean like the way I feel about you?

The words are on the tip of my tongue and I have to press my lips together to bite them back. I don’t feel anything for him, I try telling myself. I barely know him. He’s a guy I met online, someone who paid to please me orally, and besides, I’m not gay.

I’m not

And yet…

Maybe I wait too long to answer, because Ryan shakes his head with a soft laugh. “Never mind. I’m just being silly. You’re straight, I get it. You don’t like dick.”

“I like yourdick.”

It’s out before I can stop it, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, my eyes wide in shock above my fingers. I didn’t just say it. I didn’t

Ryan’s smile returns slowly and he reaches out across the table to cover my other hand with his. My fork clatters to my plate, forgotten. I need to get out of here. I need to go home. I can’t ever see this man again.

But when his fingers curl into mine, I can’t seem to pull away. “Really?” he asks.

There’s something so gentle in his voice, something so real, that all I can do is nod, and it feels so freeing to be able to admit it finally. Yes.

Removing my hand from my mouth, I whisper, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I just can’t. I’ve never been this way before, about anybody. Guy, girl, client, friend. I should go.”

“No.” Ryan clasps my hand in both of his now, urgent. “Greg, please. I like you, too.”

The thought terrifies me. Pushing back my chair, I shake my hand free from his and stand. “I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m not…I mean, this isn’t…I just—I have to go.”

He catches me before I reach the door. I feel his touch on my shoulders and, when I turn, I find myself in his arms, caught in a strong embrace. “Greg…”

“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “I like you—I do, and yes, I like you like that, but I’m not gay. I’m not.”

“You don’t have to be,” Ryan whispers back.

I try a different approach. “I have clients booked out for the rest of the week. I can’t fall for one guy. I need to keep these appointments. I need to make money—”

“I’ll buy out your whole week,” Ryan assures me. “Tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after. If you like me—”

“I do,” I sigh. Damn it, I do

His perfect mouth curves into a seductive grin. “And I like you. I know I want you, and onlyyou. The thought of any other man touching your body makes me want to just cry. So cancel all your appointments, and schedule me in instead. Let me buy up all your free time. I want to be the only man to please you from now on. Just name your price.”

The thought is terrifying, but it’s exhilarating, too. He wants me all to himself. I don’t know what to say, even when every fiber of my being wants to crow in triumph.

Me! Yes

But I can’t let myself get carried away. Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my pounding heart. It’s hard to do, though—the closeness of his body has my blood racing and my thoughts bound out in a whirl.

“We’ll start small,” he whispers, leaning towards me. His words fan my cheek and tickle my skin. “How much for a kiss?”

Before I can respond, his mouth closes over mine. They’re tangy and sharp from the spices in the dinner, but when he parts my lips and licks between them, a sweetness fills me like nectar. His tongue is warm and soft and gentle, tasting me, testing. When I don’t resist, his kiss deepens, and he draws me to him like the very breath he needs to live.

I give into him wholly, savoring our first kiss and hungry for more. The labels straight and gay no longer have any meaning to me. The only word that feels right between us is love.