Page 40 of Stroke Rate

“Brooke will be there?”

“Yeah, you know, she’s been coming since college. I’m not going to say it will be fun, because it won’t be. But I have to go. I just…” He paused, worrying his lower lip. “Mom would be really mad if I didn't show up.”

And River could see it, the same look he had that morning Laura was over. The complicated, sad stare, the turning in of his shoulders, and the absentminded rubbing of his wrists. River hated to see his boy like this; sad, confused, all the light drained from him.

River yanked Chris into his chest. “Of course I’ll come. I don’t want you anywhere near her without me by your side.”

“Seriously, it's not that bad. But thanks,” he said, kissing River’s sternum.

It was that bad, and River sensed it, feeling a stomach-churning premonition it might be worse, but Chris refused to discuss it any further. So they would go and get it over with, and with time River hoped he could pull Chris farther away from his family and protect him.

“So what does one wear to The Barn?” River asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, you know, just whatever. I’ll just wear jeans and a shirt. It’s pretty casual…unless you’d like a collar and a leash? Maybe a harness?” Chris laughed as River wrinkled his face in disgust. “Riv, your face. It’s so red. Take a breath, baby.”

River croaked, choking on the thought of wearing leather gear. “Harness? Leash?” Oh, wait. “What about you, baby? Do you have a harness? These tits would look really pretty framed in leather.”

“Tits?” Chris groaned as River cupped his chest, running a thumb over his nipple.

“Yeah, baby, these,” he squeezed Chris' pecs, hard. “These are tits. They have gotten so much bigger since we started training. I could probably motorboat you," River laughed as Chris splashed him with water again.

“Fuck off, and save the sexy talk for the club. Let’s go make dinner and get ready to go.” Chris dove into the water and swam to the edge, winking at River as he pulled his naked body out of the pool. “Quit drooling, let’s go,” he said, laughing as he wiggled his ass at River, whose hooded eyes threatened a good time.

The smell of sex and incense welcomed them as they stepped into The Barn. “Evening, Mr. Page,” a beautiful, tall man with flowing white-blond hair and crystalline blue eyes greeted them. River couldn't help but stare at the man’s eyes, so pale they seemed almost colorless in the dim light.

Chris' cool fingers brushed the warm, damp skin of River's back as his hand traveled up the fabric of his shirt, breaking the spell of his stare. “Riv, this is Phae.”

When Phae looked at them, it was as if Chris and River were invisible; his gaze was distant, not vacant, but there was something that made River think eye contact was an unpleasant experience for him, and the plastic smile he displayed was anything but relaxed. He just…something seemed off? Beside him knelt a burly man wearing rough, worn jeans and a thick black leather harness that reflected the neon lights twinkling around them. No one acknowledged him; he didn't say a word, head turned down, hands on his thighs, and still as a statue. River found the sight of him captivating. He couldn't look away, especially when Phae carded his hands through the man's thick mink-brown hair that had one patch of brilliant white at the nape of his neck. The way he swayed a bit towards the caress. The way he seemed to become even more relaxed as the hand petted the pelt of hair that covered his back. He looked as if he were ready to purr.

Chris elbowed River in the side. “That's Bran,” he whispered into River’s ear. “Pretty hot, huh?” Chris said, giving his brows a suggestive wiggle.

River grunted a response, a hot flush rushing up his neck.

Chris brushed his lips over River’s temple, a whisper of a kiss, as his hand settled on River’s chest, a comforting weight. “Phae. This is my…my River. He’ll be my guest tonight.” Phae held out his hand, eyes still cast aside as he curled his fingers as if asking for something. “Phae will need your ID, Riv.”

“Oh, right.” River fiddled with his wallet, fingers shaking with nerves as he handed Phae his ID.

“Thank you, Mr. Arroyo. I’ll get this back to you soon. You guys can go in; we will be over later.” River gawked as Phae gripped Bran’s hair, pulling his face to his thigh. He tried to resist staring as Bran nestled against Phae’s hip, but a judgmental “tsk” revealed his failed attempt. Looking up, he found himself on the receiving end of an icy-blue glare, a white brow arching high on Phae's forehead. Phae made a quick shooing motion with his hand, telling them to have fun as he dismissed them.

What have I gotten myself into, River thought as he took in his eccentric surroundings. He felt a sudden wave of anxiety amid the abundance of things to look at. Neon lights pulsed, and a low music thrum vibrated against his ribcage. Black and gold painted antler chandeliers hung, and barn doors dominated the space. The doors lined every wall, and River wasn’t sure if they led anywhere or if they were just decoration.

“What do you think?” Chris asked as he slid his fingers between River’s, giving them a squeeze.

“Uhh, well…” At a loss for words, River just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Chris chuckled beside him and pulled him along toward the bar. “It’s a lot, but it’s kind of like home now. You’ll see. Oh, there’s Jackson,” he said, pointing to the cute, very bright man waving from behind the bar.

And by bright, River meant bright…literally. His hair glowed a vibrant blue, as if the lights behind the bar made it shimmer, and the neon lights from above lit up his silhouette like an angel; he only needed a pair of wings. As they got closer, River could see all the piercings that adorned his face; each piece of jewelry matched‌ the blue of his hair. He had a lip piercing that he was nibbling on, and a small, cute blue stone that ‌sparkled‌ in his cheek. A dainty metallic blue nose and eyebrow ring decorated his face, along with tiny studs that lined both of his ears. Honestly, it was a lot, but it worked for the guy, and River couldn’t help but laugh when he opened his mouth to introduce himself—because fuck—his voice was deep and commanding and did not match the bubbly smile and bouncing body in front of him.

“Nice to meet you…finally,” Jackson said, reaching out to take River’s hand in a firm shake. “Honestly, we were all thinking you were fake and that Chris just hated us all of a sudden.” His kind eyes looked…well, they looked kind of confused, and he kept blinking.

Chris laughed next to River. “He’s trying to wink,” he said, digging his shoulder into River’s arm. “Quit staring, Jackson can’t wink, but he really tries,” he explained, giggling as he took Jackson’s hand. “How have you been, man?”

“Good, you know just. Just the usual.”

“Oh my god, Jackson, really? Dude,” Chris exhaled before taking a seat, pulling River to do the same.

Jackson sucked his lip piercing into his mouth and scrubbed a hand over his shaved blue hair. “What? I mean, it’s the same, Chris. Enough about me.” He shrugged.