I lit fresh incense, got the props arranged, and set out warm towels from the cabinet. The studio was ready. Whatever Vincent's friend needed, I could handle it. That's what I did here—gave people space to drop the performance and just be human for a while. And if this was one of my last sessions before leaving, might as well make it count.
The paperwork could wait. Right now, I had work to do.
Chapter Two
Cord
“Welcome back, Mr. Morales. Please let us know if there is anything that you need.”
The redheaded man in a loincloth introduced himself as Gavin and escorted me to my suite, Room 418. He opened the door for me, then kept it open for another half-naked young man who carried my luggage inside.
“We're glad to have you back. It's been a while since your last visit.”
“Over a year,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. The drive from Austin wasn't too long, but with my shoulder brace, it felt like I'd been trapped in that car for hours. That combined with this lingering headache I couldn't shake had me ready for a nap.
When did I become the guy who complains about three-hour drives? During the season, I'd fly cross-country twice a week without thinking about it. Now, a quick road trip had me popping pills and counting miles.
But the moment I stepped into the luxury suite, familiarity hit me hard. It had been over a year since I'd allowed myself thisindulgence, but the memory of those heated nights at The Ranch remained etched in my mind—a different man in my bed each day, sometimes two. The kind of pleasure that required nothing from me except showing up and spreading my legs.
“Thank you, Gavin.”
Gavin smiled at me, tugging at one of his nipple rings, and my cock twitched. Yeah, it had been a long time. Had I ever been with a man with such shocking red hair? Freckles scattered so freely across his body?
Maybe on this visit he'd like to come up and show me if he was red all over.
After Gavin left, I walked around my suite. Much like I remembered from my last visit, a small living room area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rest of the resort, a bathroom with a shower even nicer than mine back at the penthouse, and a king-sized bed covered in pillows and a thick crimson comforter that got me hard just imagining what might happen on it this week.
From the fourth floor, I could look down and spot naked companions walking between buildings.
Huh, I'd never visited when the weather was cool like today. What do they do in the winter? I made a mental note to ask someone later.
“Ah, The Ranch,” I said, opening a bedside drawer to find it stocked with dildos, butt plugs, and other toys. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I wondered just how many of these I'd get to try out during my visit.
Probably more than I should, considering the pain meds.
A generous fan had introduced me to this place two years ago, willing to shell out my membership fee in exchange for the 'ultimate fan experience' with Denver's young QB. Though I had no solid proof, I suspected Ruben played a part in thatintroduction. That man always seemed to have his hand in everything.
With a sigh, I turned my attention to unpacking. Athletic wear, jeans, and t-shirts. Nothing fancy. No photo ops or media appearances here. That's what the membership cost bought you. Privacy.
Unlike those team hotels where every bellhop had a camera phone.
Next, I laid out my physical therapy resistance bands. Bridget's words echoed in my head. My therapist hadn't been thrilled when she heard I was leaving Denver for a week, but she'd insisted I continue my therapy regimen.
“Workouts, huh?” I said to the empty room. She'd blush if she knew what kind of workouts awaited me here.
I checked my phone for the time, calculating when I'd need my next dose. Four hours since the last one. I could probably push it to five if I stayed distracted. The pills helped, but they also made everything feel muted. Distant.
But sometimes that was exactly what I needed.
Time to see what kind of trouble I could get into this trip, even with this bum shoulder.
Once that was done, I stepped outside into the cool autumn breeze. The main building's Spanish Colonial architecture spread out before me, all clay-tiled roofs and stucco walls the color of sun-baked earth. From the covered walkway, I could see the entire property laid out in the natural hollow of the Hill Country. The main pool complex dominated the center grounds, its mosaic tiles catching the afternoon light. Beyond that, smaller buildings dotted the landscape: the spa cluster, what looked like a nightclub, the fitness center. Flowering vines climbed every wall, and I could hear water features tricklingsomewhere nearby, mixing with laughter and music drifting from the pool area.
A couple of companions in gauzy white robes walked the stone path below, heading toward one of the private villas I could just make out beneath massive oak trees in the distance. The whole place had a deliberate layout, intimate spaces tucked into landscaping, everything designed so you could find privacy or company depending on what you needed. Their wristlets glowed green, meaning they were available to service clients such as myself if I wanted either, or both of them.
The cool weather had shifted the usual atmosphere. Most of the men I passed wore light jackets over their minimal clothing, though a few stubborn souls still went shirtless. Steam rose from the heated pools, creating a hazy effect in the air.
I needed a cold beer and someone built to last the night, and I knew I'd find both over by the main pool. But before I got far, a familiar figure in white strode up to me.
