Just a Bit Ruthless (Straight Guys 6)

“Because it isn’t,” Roman said. “It was a gift from—” He cut himself off and handed the shirt to Luke. “Put it on.”

Luke did. When he was done buttoning it up, he turned to the mirror.

He stared.

He barely recognized the young man looking back at him. It’d been years since he let himself wear something so pretty and colorful. He looked…different, especially with his damp curls free from gel.

Stroking the soft, silky fabric, Luke found himself smiling a little at his reflection. His smile froze on his lips when he noticed that Roman was watching him.

Luke dropped his hand and coughed. “I look…camp.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Roman said.

Luke shrugged, unsure. Their conversation from the other day was still fresh on his mind. He still didn’t know how he felt about it. Rationally, he knew Roman had been right: there was nothing wrong with looking camp. It didn’t make him—or anyone else—a freak. But knowing something rationally and believing it in your heart were two different things.

Except that conversation had changed something.

You don’t have to be manly with me. You don’t have to be anything. You can let go. I’m the last man who can judge anyone.

He wasn’t sure he believed Roman, but…it didn’t feel wrong to wear something like this in Roman’s presence. He didn’t feel self-conscious.

Luke couldn’t stop glancing back at the mirror, fascinated by how different he looked and felt. He didn’t look boring. He looked…pretty. He felt pretty and interesting.

“You look nice.”

Heat surging to his cheeks, Luke looked at Roman, wide-eyed. There was no mocking edge to Roman’s voice, his tone matter-of-fact. He’d been complimented on his looks plenty of times, but this felt different. Roman didn’t seem the type to give compliments freely.

“Thanks,” Luke said awkwardly, feeling much too flustered for his liking. He told himself not to be silly. It was just a compliment, and not a fancy one.

But it wasn’t just a compliment. He liked it because he did feel lovely in this shirt, and he loved the feeling. Could Roman see that? Was that why he’d said it?

Luke shot Roman a suspicious look, but the other man’s face betrayed very little as he slipped into a gray shirt and started buttoning it up.

Luke looked at the packed suitcase by the bed and chewed his lip. Are you leaving?

He didn’t ask.

“Are you going to give me some trousers anytime soon?” he asked instead.

“No,” Roman said, glancing at his legs. “You’re tiny. You’d trip over your feet if I gave you mine.”

Luke frowned. He wasn’t tiny. Though, to Roman, who was built like a tank, he probably did look tiny. “You could give me someone else’s.”

“No.”

“What about some underwear?

“No.”

Luke let out a long-suffering sigh. “Are you going to tell me when I’m going home?”

“No.”

Pursing his lips, Luke plopped down on Roman’s bed and looked at the suitcase again.

Roman glanced at him and snorted. “Stop making that face and go back to your room.”

“I’m beginning to feel like your pet.” Luke was really starting to wonder what he was to Roman. Why was Roman doing this? Despite his generally stern attitude, he seemed noticeably softer around Luke lately, and, as a result, Luke found himself dropping his guard. A week ago, he wouldn’t have dared speak to Roman in such a sullen tone. A week ago, he had been scared shitless of the guy. Now he was getting too comfortable with him and, the strangest thing was, Roman was letting him. Roman had been almost nice to him. Why? Why, why, why?

God, he’d never been so confused in his life. This man was a walking contradiction. Roman seemed vaguely homophobic, but at the same time he was very open-minded and understanding when it came to sex. He was domineering as hell, but, unlike most overbearing men, he was a good listener and easy to talk to. Roman wasn’t gay but was attracted to him. Luke had no idea what to make of it all. It didn’t seem like Roman was pretending—some things were impossible to fake—but he was sure Roman was playing some game. He must be.

Roman grabbed his suitcase. “Whatever gave you that idea? A pet wouldn’t ask so many questions and pout when I don’t answer them.”

“I never pout,” Luke said, pouting exaggeratedly, though he was unsure why. “It’s my lips. I’m going to get plastic surgery to fix them.”

Roman’s dark brows drew together. He eyed Luke’s lips.

Luke moistened them with the tip of his tongue.

“There’s nothing to fix,” Roman said shortly and started turning away.

“Are you leaving?” Luke blurted out.

Roman paused and gave him a long, probing look.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “Work. There’s only so much I can do from Russia. I won’t be back until next Thursday.”

“You’ll be gone for a week?” Luke frowned. “But—but who will feed me?” He didn’t know why, but Roman didn’t allow any of his men to enter Luke’s room while Roman wasn’t there.