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George glanced down at me, something profoundly soft and intense flashing in his eyes, before he shook the scout's hand. “Thank you, Sir. I’m incredibly honored.”
The representative chatted for another minute about logistics and upcoming rookie meetings. When the door finally clicked shut behind him, the silence returned to Dean's office, but the weight had completely shifted.
Mr. Brooks stared at his son for a long moment, the athletic pride overriding everything else, and pulled George into a tight hug. Then, he looked over George's shoulder at me. “I couldn’t be prouder. And Santiago... thank you.”
I offered a small, quiet nod, a genuine smile touching my lips.
As we finally left Building One, George reached down, linking his large fingers with mine, holding my hand tightly in the open air of the quad. He stopped beneath the shade of the oaks, cupping my face with infinite care, mindful of my split lip.
“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly.
I searched his dark eyes, my voice barely above a whisper. “You just outed yourself... to your father. To an NFL franchise. For me.”
He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss right against my forehead. “Yeah,” he murmured against my skin, his chest expanding with a deep breath. “I did.”
I closed my eyes, leaning my entire weight into his broad chest. I still didn’t know if I could fully trust the future, or how our history would look years from now. But for the first time in my life, I was starting to believe George Brooks might actually be worth the risk.
Six Months Later
Santiago
THE HEAVY DOOR TO GEORGE’S professional hotel room had barely clicked shut behind my back before his mass was completely over me.
Not roughly, not this time. His movements were incredibly deliberate as he backed my frame up against the wall, cupping my jawline with his broad palms as if I were made of glass. His thumbs gently brushed over my cheekbone, tracing the seam of my lips.
“You’re shaking, baby,” he murmured, his gravelly voice sending a wave of heat straight down my spine.
“That game was fucking awesome,” I grinned up at him, my heart racing against my ribs. “You destroyed their defensive line.”
“Yet you managed to miss the entire first half of my first NFL game,” his dark eyes burned into my skull, a familiar, dominant weight returning to his expression.
I lowered my gaze, a blush rising. “I was researching a case study for my pre-law seminar, and I lost track of—”
“Shh.” George pressed a heavy finger over my lips, silencing me instantly. “I didn’t ask for your excuses, Santiago.” He took my hand, leading me into the bedroom quarter, his voice dropping into that low, absolute command that always turned my bones to liquid. “Strip. Now.”
I obeyed him without a single shred of hesitation, peeling off my layers until I stood completely naked before him at the foot of the bed. The air-conditioned hotel room felt cool against my bare skin, but the intense heat in George’s gaze warmed every single inch of me. He circled my body slowly, like an apex predator evaluating what belonged to him. One large, calloused hand trailed possessively down my spine, over the curve of my ass, and back up to my neck.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice rough with absolute approval. “Still faintly marked from last week’s belt... and already hard for me again. Good boy.”
He stopped behind me, pulling my wrists together behind my back. He buckled the thick leather cuffs around my skin with practiced ease, then clipped the steel D-ring to the heavy chain he’d already anchored to the hotel's iron headboard. The restriction stretched my arms high above my head, arching my spine and pushing my ass out invitingly for him. I tested the metal links, the heavy rattle making my pulse skyrocket.
George stepped back, admiring his work. “Perfect.”
He reached into his leather travel bag, retrieving the thick steel cock cage and the heavy black silicone butt plug. My breath hitched in my throat.
“Sir...”
“You’ve earned a massive reward tonight, Sig,” he said, slicking the silicone plug generously with lube. “But you still disobeyed me by missing the first half of my game. You’ll take exactly what I give you.”
He pressed the blunt tip of the plug against my entrance, working the bulb in slowly, twisting and pushing with unyielding pressure until the widest part stretched me entirely open.
“Ummmh,” I moaned loudly into the quiet room as the plug seated deep inside my core, heavy, full, and pulsing against my prostate. Then, he slid the cold steel cage over my aching length, locking the base snugly around my shaft with a definitive click.
The dual sensation, being utterly trapped at the front and completely filled at the back, made my knees go weak beneath my weight.
George stepped in close, his clothed body pressing firmly against my bare back. One hand wrapped around my throat possessively, while his other hand tugged downward on the base of the plug, making me gasp aloud for air.
“You feel that, Santiago?” he growled softly against my ear, his breath hot. “That’s me owning every single part of you. Even on the night I won the biggest game of my career... you’re still the best fucking thing I get to come home to.”
