Chapter 8
Toby always graded papers on the couch, spreading them out on the coffee table, so he didn’t change his routine. He sat beside Roper and put on a classical music playlist, then leaned back with a red pen and got to work.
He was kind of hoping Roper would hate the music, but he really had no idea.
He’d been given—well, not the wrong impression of the boy, but a misleading one for sure.
The file used words like headstrong and stubborn and angry, and sure, Roper was a little of all of those things, but the boy was much deeper than all of that. Much more interesting.
Roper struck him as a man very used to standing solidly on his own feet—confident, cocky, smart, very sure of his path—but Ryder’s accident had obviously called a lot of how he defined himself into question.
Roper’s own accident didn’t make that any easier, and Toby couldn’t help but wonder how much denial the boy was in about it. He hoped Roper would ride again. It was what the boy wanted, maybe even something Roper really needed. But he wasn’t sure. Time would tell, he supposed.
In the meantime, he had a matter of hours to convince the boy to stay. He was honestly frustrated about how to proceed, but he really did want Roper to stay.
So, he’d better get busy.
He glanced at the boy, who looked like he might be dozing, and poked Roper in the ribs with the end of his pen. “No dozing off, kitten.”
Roper sat straight up, grabbed his pen with a shockingly strong grip. “Careful.”
“Safe word.” He tugged the pen back, suddenly annoyed. “What haven’t you told me?”
“About what? You said I was going to sit quiet. I’m sitting. I assume I wasn’t snoring.”
“So what?” Okay, so if there wasn’t something he didn’t know about Roper’s ribs, he could do as he pleased. He poked Roper with the pen again.
“Stop poking!” This time Roper missed.
He caught the boy’s wrist and held on tight. “I will do as I please, boy.”
“Better than kitten.” Did Roper just stick his tongue out at him, or was he licking his lips?
He grinned. Finally he’d hit a nerve. “No, not better. Just a different intention.” He eased his grip on Roper’s wrist, watching as the blood surged back and covered up his white hand print.
He poked Roper again.
“What do you want?” Roper scowled at him, and God, it was cute.
“Manners.” He didn’t need to hide his grin; Roper couldn’t see it.
“Poking is rude, you know that, right?” Roper’s lips twisted as he fought his smile. “Ru-ooo-de.”
“You’re adorable. And insubordinate. Add two to your count.” At least he would get in a good spanking later. He reached over and removed Roper’s blindfold. It wasn’t serving the purpose he’d hoped it might. “I’d like more coffee.”
“Okay.” For a second, he honestly thought Roper would just sit there. “How do you take it?”
“Just black. Simple enough. Are you okay to walk?”
“I am. Let me stand up before you hand over your cup, though.” Roper nodded toward his grading. “No one wants their C splashed with coffee.”
He chuckled. “Actually, so far, these are mostly in the B range. And I promise I won’t poke you while you’re holding coffee.”
“Oh no, Professor. You must be a good teacher. Anatomy’s tough.” Roper stood, swaying for half a second, then stabilizing himself with those stunning abs.
“It can be, if you’re not a memorizer.” He started to reach up and help, but Roper didn’t ask him. It was important to him that Roper learn to feel comfortable asking him for help, that the boy understood that Toby wanted to. That was part of the deal.
“Yeah. I didn’t think I was going to get through it.” He held out one hand. “Can you pass me your cup?”
He handed it off, intrigued. “You’ve taken anatomy?”
“Yessir. I took it in college. Me and Ry were on the rodeo team at NMSU.”
How did someone who took tough courses like anatomy in college think they didn’t have any other skills besides bull riding? “What was your major?”
“Me? Agronomy. Ry’s got a degree in hotel management.” Simple as that.
“That’s pretty impressive, you know.” So it was confirmed, Roper’s I’m not smart act was, in fact, complete and utter bullshit. He’d thought so.
“I like plants.” Roper poured two cups of coffee and doctored one, then clumped with them.
“I tend to kill them.” He’d never had a green thumb. Although, he’d never tried very hard either.
Whiskey started yowling and winding around Roper’s feet.
“Don’t let her lie to you; she has been fed and is not being starved by her cruel and evil master.”
“Aww… I bet the big bad Dom beats you and calls you names, doesn’t he, sweetheart?”
Ha. Hardly. “Not her. That is absolutely my plan for you, though.”
Roper chuckled softly, but his cheeks pinked, and Toby knew the boy had heard that.
Ordinarily he took time to get to know a man—a sub—before jumping into a scene.
The club had been an exception to that because it was expected, everyone was there for a purpose.
But this was different. It wasn’t a hookup or a one-time play date.
Still, Roper was craving, he could tell and, to be honest, he was too.
So, he’d warm them up, see if he could get Roper to bite.
“Thank you.” He took his coffee when the boy returned. Whiskey joined them on the couch, stretching out along the back of it.
“I think I understand the issues you had at the club, and I don’t require much of that, but I do like some formality. Manners are important, and you haven’t been the most polite boy this morning, have you?”
Roper gave him a searching look, then shook his head. “We’re still figuring each other out, I reckon. Finding things out.”
That was probably the most honest and genuine Roper had been with him, and it let him know that Roper knew exactly what he was doing.
“We are. But our agreement was three days, and we’re well into that already. What’s important to you? Trust me, I have the power Dom and the hard fuck in me if that’s what you need once in a while, but it’s not my default setting.”
“I’m tired.” Roper blinked, almost as if he couldn’t believe he’d said it.
That wasn’t at all what he’d expected Roper to say. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it was certainly not that. He watched the sub for a minute, nodding thoughtfully, then put his grading and his coffee down and slipped an arm around Roper’s shoulders.
“Then you what you need is rest.”
Roper nodded. “I’m sorry, man. I’m not any good to anyone like this. One day soon, I’ll be on top of the world, you wait and see.”
“Oh, I disagree.” He tucked his arm tighter around Roper’s shoulders. “It takes trust to admit things like that, so I can only assume that means I’ve earned some. That’s half a Top’s high right there.”
“You’ve been straight up with me. I know that. I respect that.”
He nodded. “It serves us both, as you can see.” Roper’s shoulders were solid under his arm. That wasn’t the sort of strength the boy needed to work on right now. “Respect is key. Discretion. No judgment.”
“I hear you.” Roper sighed softly, shook his head, then offered him a bittersweet smile. “Just tell everyone I was absolutely hell on wheels and made you insane.”
“The absolute worst, but I am so clever that I tamed the savage beast.”
“Works for me, Professor.”
He chuckled. “That is almost polite. I’ll take it.” He rubbed Roper’s arm.
Roper chuckled. “You and I could be friends, I think.”
“Mm. Friends? I guess I’ll take that too.” He rolled his eyes.
“Trust me, I’m a way better friend than anything else.”
He trusted Roper, but not that remark. “I am…a good Dom. I think I’m a decent lover. I don’t have very many friends, but I suppose I’m good enough.”
“I’m a pushy little bottom, a wild lover, and a great friend.” Roper grinned at him, shook his head. “Don’t worry, Professor. I’ll help you out.”
He really ought to set that damn file from the club on fire. “I look forward to it.”
“Cool. Holler when you’re ready for lunch, Professor. I’ll treat you.”
“You bought the pizza. I think it’s my turn. But we can argue about that when the check comes. Do you want to rest while I finish this grading?”
“I could.”
Whiskey climbed right into Roper’s lap, like she was weighing him down.
Toby laughed and bent to pick up his grading and his coffee. “You have no choice now. Whiskey has spoken.”
“I can’t argue with her.” Roper’s fingers started dragging over Whiskey’s fur. “She’s amazing.”
Whiskey purred and demanded more, making biscuits on Roper’s thigh.
“She’s my girl.” He’d been teased about having a cat, but he’d grown up with them. Besides, New York was hard on dogs, and he wasn’t home enough.
“She’s amazing.” Roper’s eyelids went droopy, heavy. “Perfect.”
He smiled. Nothing like the rhythmic lull of purring to knock you out.
“Have a good nap.” He put his feet up on the coffee table and went back to his grading.
“You too, Professor. You too.” Roper was snoring before he even stopped talking.
Okay. So, he’d made a friend. Nothing about this day was going like he thought it would, but he had no complaints. The boy was getting what he needed, which had been the whole point.
And Whiskey wasn’t mad about it either.