Chapter 5
“Roper, this is Dr. Taylor.”
Roper stared at Ryder, utterly shocked and hurt. “You got me a fucking shrink?”
He was going to beat Ryder to death—right here and now. One good hard blow to the head should do it. Fucker.
“What?” Ryder’s eyes were the size of saucers. “No! I didn’t do anything!”
“That seems like enough introduction, Charles. Don’t you think?” The shrink stood and crossed his arms.
“I do, as a matter of fact. Good night, Toby.” Charles swept Ryder out of the room and everything went silent as the door closed.
“I’m Toby Taylor, and I’m not a psychiatrist. The doctor is an academic title. I hold a PhD.”
“Oh.” Well, shit. Now he looked like a giant bleeding prick. “Sorry. Sorry, Ryder didn’t tell me he was having company.”
Or that he was going to be left alone with said company…
“I gathered that.” Toby put his hands in his pockets. “Greg from the club sent me. He thought…well, I think I’m supposed to say he thought you could use someone to talk to. Personally, I think you could use someone to smack your ass until you can’t sit down.”
He arched an eyebrow, refusing to acknowledge the jolt of pure electricity that zapped along his spine. He needed that more than damn near anything.
Too bad he needed his pride more.
“Nothing to say about that? You had a lot to say when you thought I was a shrink, and you were very quick to put that on your brother.”
“Yep, and I’d have kicked his ass for doing it, and he would have deserved it. Usually you know when folks are coming.” Uppity fucker. Hot as blazes uppity fucker.
“But he didn’t do it, and you assumed he had.
Is this your house? Charles can invite anyone he pleases, and Ryder would have very little say in it.
Why are you so angry at him?” Toby didn’t move, didn’t take a step, didn’t even twitch.
He just asked a lot of bullshit questions like it was his business.
“I ain’t pissed at Charles.” And the rest wasn’t none of some stranger’s problem.
Even if he was like some kind of underwear model. Yummy.
“Don’t play games. I didn’t mean Charles, and you know it.
” He started to reply but Toby cut him off with a raised finger like his fucking mother would.
“Don’t tell me I need to be more precise.
You need to listen better and not take shit out on your brother because you can’t handle that he’s happy. ”
“Who the fuck do you think you are, man? Me and Ryder aren’t none of yours.” What had Ryder done…
Why would he have betrayed him?
“Hm. You’re right. It isn’t my business, except that Charles asked for help, so the club sent me.
It’s not Charles who needs help though, it’s you.
You feel out of control; I can see it. You’re spiraling.
You need boundaries. You need reminding who you are.
You, by yourself. Not as Ryder’s brother. ”
“I’m just tired, man.” And his head was spinning, pounding, threatening to split into two like a ripe peach.
“You look exhausted.” Toby sat down again, settling into the fancy wing chair and man-spreading. Damn, that was distracting. “Sit down. Tell me about your foot.”
“I broke my thigh, both bones in my lower leg, and my ankle. Leg was super easy. This is the fourth time on the ankle. It’s harder.” He clomped over to perch on the arm of the couch and rest a second.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about bull riding, but that has to be rough, being an athlete. Are you out for the season? Is there a season?”
“I am, and there is. I’m not going to be able to jump down on that ankle for …a while.”
“Then you have some time to heal everything else too.” Toby looked at him, really looked at him. “I’m a Dom. I’m not your Dom, so you don’t have to listen to anything I have to say, but I think I see you, Roper.”
What did that even mean? Lots of men had said that, but how many had meant it? “What does that mean to you?”
“Fair question.” Toby took a breath. “It means I know there’s more inside you than anger. That it’s not as simple as jealousy. That your anxiety is reasonable. And, like I said before, you know you’re spinning out.”
He stayed that way. He wasn’t sure how not to be that way anymore. “I tried out a couple Doms at the club. It wasn’t a fit. Not at all.”
Toby nodded. “I saw that in your file. I’m not assuming I am either. But I’ve been asked to help you find what you need. How did you find it on the road?”
He shrugged. “Every so often I got a hard fuck, someone who wanted to try and turn me inside out. You got to be careful, you know?”
“I know you can do better than that at the club. You can definitely do better than that with me.”
He’d tried. He’d tried, dammit. He wasn’t sweet or particularly obedient. He liked being pushy, he liked being reeled in, and sometimes he needed to be put over someone’s knee and given what for.
This pretty man was…fine like Ryder’s Charles.
“Are you comfortable here? Staying here I mean. With your brother?”
“I mean, if you’re asking if it’s nice? Sure. It’s comfortable as fuck. But if it’s easy?” He shook his head. He was too much for the new milquetoast ways of his twin.
Toby nodded like he’d been expecting that response. “Do you need somewhere else to go?”
“Like where? You think he’d not just call my mama and have her here?” He was never going to be able to let off steam.
“Short term? New York. I have a room.” Toby held a hand up. “That’s forward, I know. But now that I’m here, and I’ve seen the situation and talked to you, I think you should think about moving on. So, I’m offering.”
Damn. It was very time to go.
Okay. That would get him a ride to New York and a night to figure out where he could fly out to. If that cost him a blowjob, he could handle that. “I’ll go pack my shit. Won’t take a second. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
He offered the guy a smile, then clomped back to throw his shit into his duffel bag.
“No rush!” Toby called after him.
He didn’t bother to fold anything, and his one good shirt could get cleaned when he got wherever he was going. It took him about three minutes to erase any evidence of himself, barring the towels in the hamper and the unmade bed.
Ryder liked to do shit.
He could make the bed.
Roper was ready to go, shouldering his bag as he headed out into the big front room. “You want I should call a car service? I can rent a car, if you need, too.”
He didn’t care.
“We have a ride. You don’t want to wait for your brother to get back?”
“Nope.” He didn’t bother to explain. Ryder was somebody new now, and that was that.
He loved the son of a bitch, but they weren’t…close. Not anymore. That shit was done for now.
Toby nodded to him, and they headed out to the limousine.
Damn. These crazy people and their crazy money.
The first part of the ride was quiet. Uncomfortable quiet. So he finally just said what needed to be said.
“I’ll get out of your hair in the morning.”
Toby shook his head. “You need rest. You need to be somewhere that you don’t have to perform for people. I want to give you that opportunity, and you should stay as long as you need to. As long as you like.”
He had to wonder if the club didn’t pay these Doms to play “rescue the idiot”. He’d bet they did…
Dear Dom, We got a broke ankle with a temper and a headache. He’s little and feisty, a bit of a pushy little bottom, and we’ll give you a hundred bucks a day to put up with him.
Toby glanced at him, then went back to reading something on his phone. “Up to you. And there will be some rules, of course.”
“Not a problem, Sir.” He was going to be there for a couple of hours. He could break a few rules in that time, surely.
“Aren’t you polite? Your mother would be proud.”
Was that sarcasm?
“It’s absolutely possible.” He pondered sticking his tongue out at the bastard, but he wasn’t five.
Toby chuckled softly. “Have you had rules before? Actual negotiated rules that your possibly proud mother didn’t give you, I mean?”
“As in formal? No. Ernie and me, I showed up when he wanted to play rough, and we just…weren’t a fit.” He wished it could have been different.
It wasn’t.
“Is that what you need? You need to play rough? Or was that all you could get?”
What kind of question was that? How the hell did he know? He snuck whatever joy he could, and he liked to get off. “It’s basically the option on the road, I guess. Me and Ryder spent most of our time together until his wreck.”
“I read about that too. A career ender. How about this?” Toby pointed to his foot. “Are you going back?”
“I don’t have a choice.” He wasn’t a housekeeper. He didn’t have a lover with money. He had another couple of years in him, if he was lucky. “I’m becoming a bionic cowboy. You said you were a professor?”
“Mhm. I teach anatomy and other premed courses. I’m about as athletic as a library book, but I enjoy watching most sports.” Toby smiled and he saw the geeky not-Dom side of the guy for a minute.
“That’s cool. You must be smart as all get out.” He knew more about anatomy than he wanted to…
Toby shrugged. “If by smart you mean that I have a knack for memorizing things, then yes. I’m not brainy. I just enjoy it. I’m definitely in the market for something fun though. Someone fun. I’m not new, but I’m new to the club.”
Fun sounded like something he could get behind… “What are you into?”
“Power play mostly. And subs who seem to have a problem following the rules.” He got a quick flash of a smile.
He smiled back, because he wasn’t dead, was he? Nope. Not even a little bit.
His phone beeped.
Ryder
I’m sorry. I love you.
Roper
Fuck off. Love you more.
Ryder
Mr. Charlie says you’re going to New York. Let it be good
Roper
At least 4 2nite. TTYL
He turned his phone off and put it away.
“I need you to agree to three days at least. You give me three days, and if you don’t trust me or you don’t think I can help, then you can move on, or play the field at the club or whatever you want. Deal?”
He turned to face the professor. “What do you get out of this? Seriously. What are you getting here?”
“Ideally? A sub.” Toby held his gaze. “But that’s not a guarantee so…maybe just knowing I could help. On the face of it, I’m just doing the club a favor.”
Okay, that was reasonable and fair. He could do damn near anything for three days. “I’ll give you seventy-two hours. That’s…fair.”
He appreciated fairness—in damn near everything.
Toby held a hand out so they could shake on it, and that was that. He had a seventy-two-hour Dom.
Wasn’t that the title of a game show?
He was pretty sure it was.