Page 26 of Spencer's Satisfaction
“Oh, I, um, I have toys. I’m notcompletelyuntouched, y’know,down there. Just…not by another person.”
I know he can probably feel me smiling into his hair. It’s not like I expected him to say anything else. I mean, the guy’s almost thirty. If nothing else, curiosity had to have struck at some point. “Then maybe one day you’ll be comfortable showing me your favorites and what you like, but there’s no pressure.”
Tony’s quiet for a moment, then he snuggles into my hold and simply says, “Thank you.”
My heart just about explodes with warmth.
I can already hear Chance’s voice in my head, berating me for how easily and quickly I tend to get attached, but I brush it away. I know that it’s early days with Tony, but something inside me is insisting that I’m onto a good thing with him.
* * *
I am met with Tanya’s amused eyebrow raise when I enter the kitchen the next morning, having left Tony sleeping in his bed. He’s earned the rest after such an emotional roller-coaster. (Plus, he’s far too cute to wake up, with his hair all mussed and his face somehow even younger in repose.)
“Good morning,” his sister greets me, grinning smugly.
I grin back. “ ‘Morning.”
“Sleep well?” She asks, then suggestively adds, “Like ababy?”
“Tanya,” I say in warning. It’s not even Daddy voice and there’s no hint of playfulness to my tone. I’m just flat out unimpressed. I don’t want her making Tony uncomfortable, even under the guise of lighthearted sibling jesting. “Not cool.”
Tanya holds her hands up in surrender. “I was just teasing. But,” she leans forward in her seat, as if listening out for signs of Tony’s approach, then continues, “I want you to know that, if he is into…uh…the Daddy thing? I want to support him. I want this to be a safe space. For him, and for you.”
There are two empty mugs sitting in front of the fresh pot of coffee on the counter, and she’s already got one on the table in front of her, so I grab the plain blue mug and pour myself a measure of the dark, delicious smelling liquid. Then I turn back to face her and lean my hip on the counter. Regarding her over the rim of my cup, I respond, “I’m really pleased to hear that.”
She shrugs. “He’s my brother. Not just that, he’s my twin. I’ve been there for literallyeverythinghe’s been through. This isn’t any different.”
I know there’s more to his past than he’s glossed over in the short time we’ve had to get to know each other, and the way she just spoke cements my theories. But I don’t push her for information that I’m not entitled to. Instead, I let myself be comforted by the knowledge that he has this strong, feisty, outspoken woman in his corner.
“Good,” I tell her, but I don’t say anything else on the matter because that would be a violation of Tony’s privacy, twin or no twin. Instead I lightly suggest, “Maybe it’s worth broadening your horizons anyway? It can’t hurt to understand how other people live and love, right?”
Tanya nods, her brightly colored hair swaying with the motion. “Fair point,” she acknowledges. “Guess I’m gonna have to do some reading up of my own, huh?” She smirks. “Can you recommend any good books,Rhodes?”
I snicker. “I’m not ashamed of my alter-ego or the stuff he narrates, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Nah,” she waves me off, “I’m just fascinated by the whole stage name thing.”
We’d discussed it over dinner a little, and I’d explained that I keep different stage names for different genres to make things easier for readers/listeners. I don’t keep them a secret -anyone who goes looking for my website will find a list of the genres I narrate under each name- but it makes things simpler for people wanting to stick to specific types of book. For example, someone who enjoys my performances of contemporary heterosexual romance might be nonplussed to accidentally listen to some of the kinky gay romances I narrate as Rhodes and vice versa. Some listeners cross over and quite like both, but I like to make things clear, regardless.
We chat about that some more until our mugs are almost drained and Tony stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, his dark hair sticking up at odd angles and his pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips. The cuteness is going to be the death of me.
“Sit down, angel,” I tell him, ignoring his sister’s snort, “and I’ll get you a coffee. Cream and sugar?”
“Mmm,” he agrees sleepily, tilting his head back for a kiss as I pass by, “thanks, Daddy.”
Tanya chortles when he freezes, realizing what he’s said, and I pin her with a hard stare, unable to point at her with my hands full of the coffee pot and Tony’s mug. “Safe space,” I remind her firmly.
“Oh, nowthat’simpressive,” she says, her eyes widening a little, “do that voice again and you might have us both falling all over you.”
“Find your own Daddy,” Tony grumbles at her, scowling. “This one’s all mine.”
I hand him his mug and ruffle his hair, practically floating as I return to the refrigerator in search of the creamer.
* * *
Ash: @Spencer how’d the date go last night?
This is the beginning of the message trail that greets me when I finally take my phone off silent once I’m home again. Frank doesn’t come running to greet me, so I head off in search of the little beast while I scroll through the chat.
