“Not a chance.”
“That's why I'm here,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you. Something came up with Vargas.”
The waiter returned with our drinks. Walter sipped his new whiskey before saying more. “I met with him on a few security issues. He asked me to speak with you.”
“Did I do something wrong?” I took a long swig of my beer.
“No.” Walter set his glass on the table and rubbed the side of it with the pad of his thumb. “He received a call about you earlier this week.”
My beer bottle clanked onto the table. “About me?”
“The man didn't give a name. Just asked how long you've been a member. How often you're here.”
An invisible vice gripped my chest. “And what did Vargas tell him?”
“Nothing, of course. Vargas has managed this club too many years to risk upsetting his clientele. He doesn't discuss club members with anyone, especially an anonymous caller. He wanted you to know someone was asking about you.” Walter sipped his whiskey again and scrutinized me. “Your father?”
“Who else?” Whether my father had made the call himself or not wasn't the point. It didn't bother me the man knew I was a member of a gay sex club. What bothered the hell out of me was he'd discovered where I played. My stalkers would be following me on the way home.
“Eventually someone's going to push the topic of his son,” Walter said. “No one knows anything about you. You can't be in politics for long and hide your family, hide the fact that— ”
“Your son's a queer?”
“I take it he'll blame you for any fallout with his conservative constituents?”
“That's an understatement. Everything wrong in his life is my fault.”
Walter knew my father hurt me years ago, but he knew few details. He didn't press the topic. Most of the time he knew when to push. And when not to.
“So, who were you with tonight?” Genuine and direct. No bullshit with Walter. It was part of the reason I liked him.
“Richard and Matthew.”
“Matthew? Maybe twenty, twenty-one, with dark hair?”
“Yep.”
“I know several Richards.”
“He's got a scar across his chest.” Why the hell did I choose that quality to mention?
“That wouldn't be the blond with a body that makes the rest of these guys look like they're at play in the schoolyard?”
I lifted my beer for another swig and smirked before the bottle hit my lips. “That'd be him.”
“Ah. Quite the night, then.”
“You know them? The way I just knew them?”
He laughed. Our banter relaxed me in a way little else did. That was until I'd found myself upstairs with the two men we were discussing. And that bothered me— more than when I'd been in bed with them.
“No,” Walter said in a long, drawn-out groan. I wasn't used to hearing that tone from him. “The kid's far too young for me.” He shook his head. “I haven't played in years.” He waved his hand at the crowd of dancing men as if the idea of being with any of them was absurd. He seized his drink and raised it to his lips again. The whiskey lingered in a long, slow sip. Walter watched me over the edge of the glass.
“You've made exceptions on occasion,” I said.
He tipped his head back and laughed again. “That I have. Matthew, huh? I've heard a few things. He's... enthusiastic.”
A snort escaped. “You can say that again.” I signaled to the waiter, and he brought me another beer.
“And Richard,” Walter said when we were alone again, “well, he hasn't been in the club in some time.”
“I hadn't seen him before.” Thinking about them was awakening my cock again. I shifted in my seat. I had to get my ass home and my mind off the club.
“The last time he was here on a regular basis was more than five years ago. And before you ask again, no, we never hooked up. Last time I saw him, we were both on to something more serious.”
“Serious?” I lifted my beer again in an attempt to appear casual, but the question wasn't at all. Why was I interested in Richard's past? I definitely needed to get home.
“He and his partner didn't come to the club once they were exclusive.”
I nodded my understanding and downed another mouthful of the beer. At the rate I swallowed it, I'd have trouble getting my ass to a cab if I stayed much longer.
Walter stilled the hand holding his drink and regarded me with a long stare. He leaned back in his chair. “I think he might be just what you need.”
“I already had him. So"— I whipped a hand through the air—"that was it.”
“Right. Your rule. Was it a one-night thing for him too?”
“Yep.”
Walter studied me for another moment before his gaze traveled over the crowd of men. He wasn't about to pick any of them up. His scan was more amusement than intention.
The silence disturbed me. And that was odd. Walter and I didn't talk every moment we were together. In fact, most of the time we didn't talk much at all. It was another reason I liked him.
I sighed. “What is it you think I need?”
He didn't respond. I followed his stare to a couple near the far corner of the bar. They danced— or a better description might be embraced, or made love with their clothes on. Their lips didn't touch, but every other part of their bodies did. My eyes narrowed. Not many men at the club came together with such heat and familiarity. It seemed futile. Why would two men ever think they could succeed at long-term? The passion they exuded would never last. Not if they continued to patronize the Haven with its stream of available men.
“To trust yourself enough to put yourself at risk,” Walter said.
I surrendered my judgmental stare. “I take risks all the time.” I laughed at my own words.
“I meant for you to risk more
