“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke said, keeping his eyes firmly on the tray of food and resisting the urge to move away from the man next to him. The bed seemed so small with Roman’s long, wide-shouldered body stretched out casually on it. Did he have to sit on Luke’s bed? There was a perfectly good chair in the room.
“Why?” Roman said.
“I don’t know about you, but sex is kind of a private matter for me,” Luke said as calmly as he could, cutting a piece off an apple with his knife and sticking it in his mouth. He would wonder why Roman allowed him to have a knife if he had any delusions about his ability to take him on in a physical fight. It was obvious Roman’s muscles weren’t the result of workouts and diet. Roman moved with the fluidity and confidence of a man who knew how to use his body as a weapon.
The question was: Why was this dangerous—and likely very busy—man wasting his time watching Luke eat and asking about things Luke had no desire to discuss?
It was all very bewildering, especially after last night—after Roman fucked his mouth, kissed him until his toes literally curled, and then went to his bedroom to fuck some woman whose moans Luke could hear even through the two doors separating their rooms.
Luke pursed his lips.
“You weren’t such a prudish little thing last night,” Roman said.
“Last night was a mistake,” Luke said stiffly, looking at the leftovers on his plate and fighting a blush. “I’m not—I’m not like that.”
“Like what? Gay?”
“No, obviously I’m gay.” Luke lifted his eyes to Roman. He tried not to look at the little wisps of dark hair peeking out from under Roman’s halfway unbuttoned shirt. “Look, you got the wrong impression. I’m not into that kind of thing—not really. I’ve had four boyfriends and I didn’t do anything like that with any of them.”
A faint smile curled Roman’s lips. “I’m flattered.”
When Luke glared at him, Roman’s smile widened, becoming amused. The smile actually touched his cold eyes, and, for the first time, Luke realized how attractive and charming this man could be if he wanted to. The thought unsettled him. He didn’t want to notice it.
“It doesn’t say much about your relationships if you couldn’t tell your partners what you were into,” Roman said, studying him through his hooded eyes.
Sweeping his gaze around the room, Luke said, “It’s not—it really isn’t a big deal. A relationship is more important to me than some weird kinks.” Luke tucked a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s not like I’m that into it. I’m not a freak.”
Roman’s assessing stare was starting to get on his nerves.
“What?” Luke said uncomfortably.
“Your parents divorced when you were eight,” Roman said.
Luke blinked at the abrupt change of topic. “Yeah,” he said, unsure where this was going or why Roman suddenly wanted to talk about his parents’ divorce, of all things.
“My sources say you were the main point of contention. Your mother wanted custody, but your father won it. He restricted your mother’s access to you.” Roman’s face was impassive as he recited the bare facts of one of the most difficult periods in Luke’s life.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Luke nodded.
Roman continued, “The details of the divorce were difficult to find, but apparently your father claimed that your mother was a bad influence and wasn’t fit to raise you. Why?”
Luke picked up a banana and started to peel it. He knew he didn’t have to answer. He didn’t talk about this even with his friends. But then again, Roman wasn’t a friend. Luke was unlikely to ever see him again after this whole ordeal was over. Who would it hurt to answer truthfully? He couldn’t see how Roman could use this information against him. Maybe if Roman saw that he had nothing to hide, it would help Luke in the long run. Not to mention that at this point Luke was ready to talk about anything other than his embarrassing kinks.
“My father didn’t like how close she and I were,” he said with a shrug. He took a bite of the banana and chewed slowly. “Mum and I were best friends. She kind of…she was—is—an amazing mother, but she always wanted a daughter and had little clue how to raise a boy. All she had was me, and she did her best, but Dad was always away and very busy, so…” Luke shrugged again, eyeing the banana in his hand. “One day he came home and found me playing a grown-up in my mother’s clothes. He was mad.” The understatement of the century. He still flinched whenever he remembered the brutal flogging he’d received that day. Luke cleared his throat. “He accused Mum of turning his son into—into a f-freak.” He cleared his throat again. “The funniest thing is, I’m not even into cross-dressing. I was just playing, as all kids do.” And okay, he still did like colorful and pretty things, but that was neither here nor there.