Page 21 of Caged By the Stranger
Rory said no one would do this to be cruel. That the man had plans for me if he put my cock in a cage. Does that mean he came back? What if he came back when I wasn’t there? Fuck. Maybe I missed my chance by being on this stupid cruise and letting Rory lube up my sore balls for nothing. I wish he’d never told me that story about him and his stupid professor. It’s a fantasy. I’m sure bonds like that only happen once in a blue moon and certainly only with people of the right mindset. Which I’m not. Look how miserable I’ve been. It’s why I can’t understand why Rory’s suggestion of finding a boyfriend keeps flitting through my mind. I’m probably just depressed. Depressed at not being able to use my dick.
I have the driver drop me off at a hotel near the dock, where I grab lunch on the patio to eat my feelings. I know we have until evening before roll call on the ship, but my sightseeing ambitions are over for the day, short of trying to relax some of the tension from my body. Heading to reception, I inquire about their spa, only to learn that their masseuses are booked up for the day. Why did I even check? I should just assume by now that there’s a black cloud following me overhead.
Heading back toward the dock, I console myself. I have an entire superyacht all to my lonesome for the evening, fully equipped with not one but two hot tubs. That will have to do.
Back in my cabin, I slip into my trunks and grab a towel from the bathroom. It shouldn’t take me as much time as it does to decide on which hot tub to head toward—the one on the lower deck or the one up on the flydeck, which I’ve learned it’s called. While the one on the flydeck reminds me of where I first ran into Rory on the yacht, the one on the lower deck is in a prime spot where I’ll be seen by anyone who happens to return to the ship early, so up I go.
As I ascend the stairs to the flydeck, though, I hear Carmen’s infectious laughter. It’s par for the course that I can’t find any damn privacy.
At least, it’s only her, but still. As long as I can slip in without her noticing anything clinging to my metal-shaped bulge downtown, I should be fine. Ascending the last stair, I stop in my tracks, fully convinced now about that black cloud. It’s Carmen and…Rory.
Fuck.
“Hey! Where have you been all day? You missed everything!” Carmen scolds me.
“I…took a tour of the island,” I blurt, holding my hands in front of my waist so my towel hangs over my groin.
“What? By yourself? You should have told me. I would have gone with you.”
“It was fine. I caught up on some sleep and then just did some sightseeing.” I wave a hand dismissively and turn to head back down the stairs, but her voice cuts me off.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you getting in?”
“No. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting anything, I can assure you,” Rory chuckles along with her, telling me I’ve clearly missed some inside joke.
I turn back around, prepared to say that there’s not enough room, but that would be a lie. It’s the biggest fucking hot tub I’ve ever seen.AndI have my shorts on and am holding a towel. If I leave, I’ll look like I’m avoiding Rory.
Son of a bitch.
Kicking my flip-flops off, I curse my fortune and make my way to the side of the tub farthest from Rory. Turning to the side, I try to act casual, bending over and placing my towel down for easy access when it comes time to get out. It’s just an excuse to hide my girded loins from the two of them. Stepping backwardover the edge of the tub, I dip one foot in the water, performing the world’s most awkward descent into a hot tub. Fuck if I’m turning around to face either of them with wet trunks on, though, until my waist is below the surface. Carmen can think I have the grace of a drunk gazelle for all I care.
“Nice, isn’t it?” she sighs, leaning her head back on the edge of the tub.
It would be nicer if my cage hadn’t just made a soft thunk noise as it tapped the seat of the hot tub. It would also be nicer if I were alone and not four feet away from a wet, shirtless CEO who’s seen my cock in a cage and palmed my nuts. But that’s just me.
“Yeah. It’s great.”
“Honestly, Charlie, are you having a good time at all?” she asks, tilting her head with a tone of motherly concern shining through her cheery expression.
“I said it was great.” I let out on a puff of forced laughter, turning a palm up as I sling my elbow over the side of the tub. “But just out of curiosity, how many margaritas have you had?”
“Two. One for each of my children.” Reaching out, she picks up her salt-rimmed glass off the ledge and takes a sip. “This one is for my husband.”
“That could account for why I don’t appear to be as chipper as you, but trust me, I’m overjoyed on the inside.” Lies. All fucking lies, but I’m a salesman, after all.
Chuckling, she sets her drink back down. “Oh! I know what’ll cheer you up. You can join our game.”
“Game?” I glance around, although I don’t know what I expect to find up here on the flydeck. A chess set, maybe?
“Yeah, we’re playing Truth or Truth.”
Oh, brother. Only three margaritas?
“Do you mean Truth or Dare?”
“No.Truth or Truth,” she affirms. “We decided that Truth or Dare might require getting out, so we altered the game for the time being.”
