“Finally,” Evan groaned, checking his watch. “I was about to send a search party.”
“Traffic,” Cal lied smoothly, dropping his bag next to Evan’s. He looked cool, collected, utterly unbothered.
Evan looked up. His eyes scanned Cal, looking relaxed, smug, and then landed on me. I was flushed, shifting my weight from foot to foot, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t drive the plug deeper. Evan’s eyes narrowed, landing on the side of my neck where a deep purple bruise peaked out just above my collar.
I made a poor attempt of hiding the evidence, tugging the fabric up.
“Jesus, Silas,” Evan hissed, nodding at my neck. “Stop with the trophies. We have a show to do. You look like a teenager.”
I flushed scarlet.
Cal just smirked, leaning back in his chair, manspreading comfortably. “I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want.”
Evan rolled his eyes. “You’re a nightmare.”
Just then, Lena came jogging up, breathless, her purple hair flying.
“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late!” She dropped her bag and looked at me. Her eyes widened immediately. “Wait… Silas! What is that?”
She pointed a manicured finger at my neck.
“What?” I played dumb, voice cracking.
“A hickey!” Lena practically squealed, looking around. “Wait… did your girlfriend visit last night? Do you have a girlfriend even? How did I miss her?!”
I froze. Cal shot Evan a look that dared him to laugh.
“Yeah,” Cal said smoothly, saving me but drowning me at the same time. “She snuck in late. Left early. Ninja style.”
“Oh my god,” Lena sighed dreamily. “She must be amazing! Tell me about her! Is she blonde? Brunette? You look like you would like blondes.”
“Dark hair,” Cal answered for me, his eyes locked on mine, dark and hungry, enjoying my squirming. “High maintenance. Very demanding.”
“And possessive,” Evan added, taking a sip of his coffee. “Clearly.”
“I hate both of you,” I muttered, shifting in my seat as the plug twisted inside me, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine.
The flight was psychological torture. I sat next to Cal, unable to move, unable to adjust, feeling him radiate heat beside me. Every time I shifted, he’d rest his hand on my thigh and squeeze, reminding me he knew exactly what was happening inside my pants.
But the second we got into the hotel room in Seattle, the dynamic shifted from playful to urgent.
Cal locked the door and threw the deadbolt.
“Get it out,” I begged, leaning against the wall, breathless. “Cal, please.”
“Bathroom,” Cal ordered, pointing. “Take it out. Wash up. Come back out here. Don’t make me wait.”
I ran to the bathroom. Removing the plug left a gaping, aching need. I cleaned up quickly, my hands shaking, splashing cold water on my face to try and center myself. It didn’t work.
When I came back out, Cal had dimmed the lights. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed but watching me with intense focus. He had placed a realistic silicone dildo and a thick, black silicone cock ring on the duvet.
“Strip,” Cal said.
I did so quickly, leaving my clothes in a pile, standing naked in the middle of the room. I felt small under his gaze. Exposed.
“Come here,” Cal said.
I walked over. Cal reached for the cock ring. He gripped my semi hard length, dragging his thumb over the head, catching the precum leaking there.
