Chapter 31 #2
I moved toward the desk, taking in every detail of the room. “This is pretty impressive. I didn’t know you were this serious about gaming.” Running my fingers over the keys, I accidentally pressed one. The click was loud and caught me off guard. “Even a mechanical keyboard?”
Ryan glanced at me from where he dropped his keys on the ivory counter.
“I’ve played most of my life. It was my escape when I was a kid.
I had the best system, but when I moved here, I only had a basic PC.
I bought that baby when my career took off.
I haven’t really bought much else”—he gestured around the room—“as you can see.”
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, a position that sent currents of electricity through my body.
“You know there are people that can make the design choices for you if it's not something you want to deal with, right?” I joined him in the kitchen. “Most men don’t care, but you have the money now, so why not?”
He studied me for longer than usual before sighing and pulling open the fridge. “I don’t need nice things.”
Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My mouth fell open as Ryan handed me a bottle of water. The coldness trickled from my hand, up my arm, and settled in my chest. Fuck, I was so inconsiderate.
I dropped my voice to a whisper and my eyes to the floor because I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think before I spoke. That was inconsiderate of me. It makes sense now why you haven’t decorated.”
A whoosh of air sounded beside me as Ryan came to rest his forehead on my shoulder. “It’s alright. I still have shit to work through, but I’m getting there.”
I sighed. “Having nice things won’t make you like them, though.” He squeezed me a bit tighter at that. “God, you must think me insufferable,” I groaned.
Ryan lifted his head and tilted my face to his.
“No. You’re allowed to want expensive things.
This is a me issue. Not you. You’re perfect.
It’s not like you’re out here living in a mansion with a butler and a chef on staff.
” He laughed. “Even if you were, I wouldn’t care.
You’re you, and I like you the way you are. ”
My mood brightened, and my mouth turned mischievous. “Can I pay you to be my chef? The catch is, your uniform is an apron. Only an apron.”
Ryan’s laugh boomed, and I wanted to bathe in the sound. He pulled me into his arms. “You wouldn’t have to pay me to be your naked chef.”
With a kiss on my cheek he moved around me, walking backward toward a door to the left. The smirk on his face had me desperately hoping that was the door to his bedroom so I could taste it. Throwing him a wicked grin of my own, I followed him as he turned the knob and flicked on the lights.
My lewd thoughts were dashed but quickly replaced with curiosity as I stepped into Ryan’s studio. A small sofa and table lined the wall, but the majority of the room was taken up by black room dividers.
“This is where the magic happens,” Ryan said. “In the beginning, I only had curtains hung in here, but once things started taking off, I boxed in the space.” He pulled back the cloth panel situated between the wall and the divider that served as the door and stepped through the small opening.
Inside the cramped studio, the walls were lined with foam and a long desk spanned the majority of the wall except for a small section in front of me.
Ryan moved a chair back to stand in front of a laptop and other unfamiliar devices perched atop the beige wood to the left.
I stepped forward and studied the microphone attached to a large metal stand that had various hinges.
“What’s this for?” I asked, running a finger over the fabric of the circular attachment in front of the mic.
“That’s a pop filter. It reduces the popping sounds that happen when you speak certain letters.”
“That matters?” A hint of embarrassment heated my cheeks at my cluelessness.
“It does. It can cause the track to be choppy, and I personally find it very annoying when listening to audio that hasn’t been recorded with one.
” Ryan moved to the mic stand and demonstrated how it moved.
“I can adjust this so I can narrate while standing up or sitting down. If I’m sitting, I just put my laptop, which I read from, on the desk here or if I’m standing, I use the podium,” he explained as he indicated a tall wooden platform to our right.
My gaze snagged on a small rectangular device with a ball of fluff attached to the end sitting on the desk. “What’s that thing?”
“That’s a handheld mic I use to record my social media content. I don’t get into the whole setup for that stuff.” His features turned seductive. “I also use it to record the little voice message you like so much.”
I laughed, heat rising into my cheeks. “I haven’t ever given much thought to what goes into narration. From the looks of all this stuff, it seems much more complex than I thought.”
He chuckled and shifted his focus to a box with a bunch of knobs and dials.
“You’re right. It does require more than people think.
I control everything with the audio interface here.
This is the connection between the microphone and my computer.
Volume, output, and a lot of other technical stuff here. ”
My lips parted at how knowledgeable he was. The tone of his voice as he talked showed it was more than just a job to him, whether he would admit that or not.
I listened intently as he continued. “I don’t do a lot of final mastering anymore except for my social media content.
All of my narration and voice over jobs are handled through my agent who gets everything finalized by a production company for the customers.
I used to do it all, though. It takes a lot of time to master, and having a company do it frees me up for more raw recording. ”
Glancing at him sideways, I pretended to keep looking at the switches. “Do you think you will do this long term?”
The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know every detail of his life.
I wanted to know his goals and plans, because I was drawn to him in a way that I couldn’t explain.
My soul yearned for his and I realized I was more than addicted.
I wanted to meld our spirits until it was impossible to know where I ended and he began.
“I want to do it as long as I keep getting work. Aside from the pleasure aspect I get from it, I enjoy the flexibility with my schedule and the varied day to day. Every book and project are different.”
Silence settled over us in the small space, and I wondered what else Ryan might want in the future. I decided long ago that I was fine being alone in life. My work was my spouse, but I wondered what something different might look like.
Ryan’s job and kinks didn’t bother me. I wasn’t so antiquated that I cared if he looked at other women or even got off to them.
My apprehension stemmed from the fact that he might not want anything serious.
Even after the short time I had known him, I knew in my gut this wasn’t just going to be a fling for me. What was it going to be for him?
Ryan ran his hands through his hair and sighed, a bit of awkwardness creeping in the air. “I better get to it. Do you want to chill on the couch or in the living room?”
I shrugged off the weird feelings. “Can I watch at some point? I want to see you work your voice sorcery that makes women come apart at your words.”
“Sure. I do have to warn you though, you’ll be bored in no time.”
I grinned. “Oh, I highly doubt that, sir. I don’t think bored is anything I’ll ever be when I’m with you. Plus, how many people get to say they have watched their favorite narrator at work in the flesh?”
He laughed and pulled me into his arms. “And speaking of flesh…” I flicked my tongue across his cheek. “Yours tastes divine, and once you're finished working, I think I need a meal of Zander. Especially after his voice gets my pussy all worked up.”
“Spoken like my sexy little voice slut.” He bent his head to kiss me and whispered against my lips. “Maybe I’ll find a sexy scene in my script to record while you watch. I want those panties ruined.”
I nipped his lip with my teeth and pulled back. “Maybe I should work in the living room. Otherwise, neither of us will get anything done.”
“You’re not wrong.” He chuckled. “Go set up out there, and I’ll come get you when I get to a good scene.”
With a peck on his cheek, I reluctantly trudged out of the room in search of my laptop.
After three hours of not so efficient work, my curiosity got the better of me.
I sat my laptop on the couch and crept to Ryan’s studio.
Turning the knob as quietly as possible, I slipped into the room.
Ryan’s voice was muffled from the foam, but it seemed like he was really into whatever scene he was working on.
I moved to the makeshift curtain door and opened it wide enough for my ear to have no barrier from that intoxicating voice.
Time escaped me as I leaned against the wall, listening to Ryan work. It was as if I was in the story with him. I closed my eyes and let the scenes play out in my head, thankful this was dual style narration so I could hear the female’s lines, too. Even Ryan’s feminine voice did things to me.
My heart leapt when the story shifted, and his voice turned emotional. I listened as he declared his love to the female character and held my breath as he pleaded for her to love him back. A tear ran down my cheek, and I knew. I knew I wanted that same affection from him.
I brushed the tear away and pushed off the wall, padding back to the living room.
Back on the sofa, I pulled my knees up to my chest and decided I was going to tell Ryan everything; I would lay my spirit bare for him to decide if I might be worthy of his love.
If he could even love me at all after he saw the monster caged deep inside.