“Keys,” he said.
“Mine,” I said.
His eyes opened. “Both of them?”
“We’ve covered this already.”
He looked down at himself. The steel sat flush and snug, completely inescapable, and the expression on his face moved through multiple emotions before settling somewhere I couldn’t quite read.
“Seven days,” he said.
“Seven days,” I said.
He looked down at the cage again. Then back up at me.
“What happens if I get hard in this thing?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
He winced. “Can I come over? If it gets bad?”
“You can come over any time.”
His face did something helpless and hopeful. If he were a golden retriever, he’d be wagging his tail right now. It was deeply inconvenient how endearing it was.
“But I won’t unlock you,” I said.
The tail stopped wagging. His expression deflated so completely, and so fast, I almost felt bad.
Almost.
“Seven days,” he repeated.
“Seven days,” I agreed.
He went back into the bathroom to clean up his ruined load. He left the door open so I could witness everything. I didn’t know he was doing it, but I enjoyed the show.
He pulled his pants up, adjusted himself carefully, and stood there in front of the mirror for a moment looking like a man recalibrating his entire week. Then he headed for the door.
He paused with his hand on the frame.
Turned back once.
Didn’t say anything. Just looked at me with those dark, stormy eyes, something hot and unresolved, and already desperate sitting right behind them, his massive jock body now marked and owned in the most intimate way.
Then he left.
I locked the door, sat down on my bed, and stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Seven days, I thought.
CHAPTER 4
BRETT
Saturday.No practice. No obligations. Nothing but hours of open air and the slow, maddening awareness of steel between my legs.
I’d noticed it approximately every four minutes since leaving Miles’ dorm.