Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Can I interest you in any fresh tangerines, sir?”
I whipped around to see Rudy again, holding out a tray of tangerine slices to me.
“You’re not Sebastian,” I said.
I hadn’t been expecting anyone to come back in at all. Rudy seemed unaffected, his face expressionless.
“Sure, I’ll take a few,” I said, grabbing one of the small plates from his tray and loading it up with a few tangerine pieces.
I felt so watched as I took the food, even though I was fairly certain that the castle staff were discreet, and probably wouldn’t go around blabbing about my presence.
“Thank you very much,” I said.
He nodded and disappeared down the hall as silently as he’d come in. I stared back at the fireplace, popping a tangerine slice in my mouth.
Sebastian was back a minute later. He handed me the Scotch in a heavy crystal glass.
“God, tangerines sound delicious right now,” he said, grabbing one off my plate.
“One of your staff members just came by and asked if I wanted some,” I said.
Sebastian nodded, as if I’d just told him the sky was blue. “They’re wonderful.”
As if on cue, the young woman came down the hallway just then, offering us an array of artisanal chocolates.
“Thank you, Marci,” Sebastian said, grabbing a few. “Would you like some, Henry?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “Thank you.”
She was gone a moment later. Sebastian smiled at me as I shook my head.
“Are they going to be coming by all night, without warning?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “That should be all.”
I took a sip of scotch, and Sebastian did the same.
“Been saving this one for my wedding day,” he said.
“I don’t even want to ask how much this bottle of scotch was worth, do I?” I asked.
Sebastian shook his head. “Probably not.”
He shrugged one shoulder and tossed back a swig, with no ceremony.
“Good?” I asked.
“Pretty fucking great, yes,” he said. “Strong.”
“That’s what I like,” I said, taking a sip. The alcohol was deeply flavored, but I didn’t know a damn thing about types of scotch.
It was liquor. It was what I needed right now.
“So, uh,” I said, “I’ve got to ask. What is the room with the… stuff in it?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, Henry.”
“One of the rooms had weird drapes in it, I guess? Maybe silk?”
“Oh, right, right,” he said. “It’s therapy. For my muscle tension. Every week my doctor comes and guides me through various poses.”
“I’m still not getting it,” I said.
“I sit on the silk bands,” he clarified. “Or lie on them. And depending on how I position my body, or how he positions me, it’s a way to let gravity do work on my muscles. It’s incredible.”
“This is some next-level shit, Sebastian,” I said, taking a sip of scotch.
“I know it sounds crazy, I thought it was, too,” he said. He crossed over and sat down on the chaise sofa next to the fireplace. It looked like a piece of furniture straight out of some English royal mansion from two centuries ago. Sebastian looked perfectly in place sitting on it.
“So you swing from ropes of fabric and it helps your muscle tension,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said with a quick nod. “Exactly.”
I sat down on a leather chair opposite him. I still couldn’t believe we were able to do this. To talk, first of all. And also pretend we didn’t want to rip each other’s clothes off. I was ready to explode, but I still felt like I had to act proper, somehow. Maybe it was because of the staff.
I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do in here. The room was so expansive and ornate, and I felt like I could break something expensive just by existing in here.
The leather chair at least felt like a safe little island for me and my glass of scotch.
“Ever jerked off in your silk room?” I asked. I didn’t know how to be proper, but I could always rely on humor.
He snorted, swallowing his sip of whiskey and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“No,” he said. “I can’t say I have.”
“I jerked off in a snow bank once, on the mountains,” I said, swirling the brown liquor in my glass.
“And how did that feel?”
“Cold, believe it or not.”
“Why on Earth would you jerk off in a snow bank? Why not go back to your cabin?”
“I had a bit of an issue in the cabin at the time.”
“Don’t tell me there was a bear in there.”
I laughed. “No. There was never a bear inside my cabin, thank god. But it was a pest issue.”
“Jesus, Henry, did you have bugs?”
“God, no,” I said. “But that morning, I’d made the mistake of leaving my window cracked, right next to a loaf of bread I’d baked. I went outside to make my usual morning rounds and when I came back, there were five squirrels inside, diving into my bread loaf.”