Page 39 of Caged By the Stranger (Bad Decisions #1)

Charlie - Seven months later

Shooting off an email on my phone to one of my marketing teams as I walk into the kitchen, I find Rory leaning over the counter, immersed in a crossword puzzle.

I will never see the appeal of those brain teasers that have no purpose other than entertainment.

They still seem a fitting distraction, however, for a man who loves riddles.

“Don’t you look handsome,” he purrs, sneaking a glance at me.

I’m in jeans and an old hoodie. He’s ridiculous, but I still find my mouth curving up at the corner as I move to the coffeepot.

“Are you ready?”

“Babe, I’m always ready,” he drawls, filling in an answer on his puzzle.

Eyeing the line of his back, I follow the slope of his spine down.

His long-sleeved Henley is stretched tight across his arms and shoulders.

Left untucked at his waist, it’s short enough that I get snared on the curve of his ass and how the denim of his jeans is molded to it.

No one should look that good in casual attire.

I savor the drink he is, and then drag my gaze away.

The ideas it gives me are not the kind of ideas I need right now.

Sipping my coffee, I can feel my pulse skitter in my neck.

Maybe caffeine isn’t a great idea either.

Checking the clock on the wall, I can see we still have plenty of time to get to my brother Miles’ house, but the visit feels too imminent.

Taking my coffee to the sink, I dump the contents of my mug down the drain and let out a calming breath.

Arms slink around my waist from behind, and just the presence of Rory’s warm cheek against mine quells the butterflies in my stomach. “Anxious?” he asks, pressing his lips to the underside of my jaw.

“I’m fine.” I shrug. “Just…not exactly looking forward to this. You’ve met my brothers.”

“They were charming. Not as charming as you, but I think it went well last time.”

His little kisses on my neck are meant to be a distraction, I know. They’re almost working. Almost .

“Miles and Brett were okay, but they still stared at us the entire time. But Shane? Well, he was a total dick.”

“Mm. Good old Shane,” he laments playfully, although I don’t see how anything about this is amusing. “He was probably jealous.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn around to counter his nonsense, but find his arms back around me. That’s fine. They can stay. Tracing the seam of his collar with my thumb, I focus on his throat. How can someone’s throat be so attractive?

“He’s not jealous. He’s a homophobic asshole. He has been since high school, and it only got worse when he was in college. He, my dad, and those dickhead friends of his. He’ll never be cool with us, Rory. I hope you know that.”

I hate the thought of getting disgusted looks at every family event for the rest of our lives.

Rory’s parents and his brother Teagan were so accepting when he introduced me to them, I was floored.

Our sexuality wasn’t even a topic of conversation.

I never imagined being welcomed by another man’s family was a possibility.

It certainly helped with my decision to tell my brothers four months ago.

I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy, though. Fucking Shane.

“I can’t believe you,” he had muttered under his breath, when we both found ourselves in Miles’ kitchen at one point. Shaking his head as he grabbed another beer from the fridge, he added, “Why are you doing this? Don’t you care what people think?”

Why am I seeing a man? Like it was a conscious choice. He’s spent too much time with my father, a man whose child-rearing methods were to make his sons hard asses. Thank fuck Miles and Brett saw the light and decided to stay with Mom after the divorce.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

The question catches me so off-guard, my head rears back, and my gaze snaps to Rory’s.

“What? No!”

He smiles and hugs me closer, dropping a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Then I’m not worried about it.”

Scoffing, I watch him, stunned. How can he be so nonchalant about all of this? “You don’t care that my own flesh and blood is a complete prick and will probably be repeatedly offensive to you for as long as we’re together?”

“I’m only worried if he gets in here, Charlie,” he says, tapping my temple with his fingertip. “Because if he gets too deep in here and breaks this ,” he adds, running his other hand over my heart, “then he’s going to have a problem with me that he’ll regret.”

The organ his hand is above of wallops inside my chest, and I feel tears in my eyes. Sliding my arms around his shoulders, I bury my face in his neck. “I’m sorry. I just…”

Fucking hate that my own brother can’t be happy for me? That he’ll eventually take digs at the man I’m in love with?

“I just hate that I can’t give you the same type of welcoming into my family that yours did to me.”

“If it makes you feel better, Teagan will probably never be fully comfortable understanding my sexuality. He just has manners and loves me.”

Manners and love are all I’m asking for, I want to tell him. When he leans his weight against me and steals a kiss, I feel my cage press into my groin, making me hold back a moan.

“Hm…what’s this?” he asks, bringing his hand down and cupping over the barrier behind my fly.

“I…just felt like wearing it today,” I stammer, pushing away from the counter.

Grabbing my keys off the hook on the wall next to his, I still enjoy the sight of them occupying the same space.

I’ve spent every night here since I returned from France months ago.

Two months later, Rory sent a moving van to my house after one of my trips home to change out laundry.

I didn’t complain. I tried to act like we should think about it, but there was nothing to think about.

I didn’t want to be anywhere else. When my house sold a month ago, I didn’t expect to feel such joy.

It made the move feel more permanent. It made us feel more permanent.

“Come on,” I call to him. “We should get going.” Turning back, I find him stalking toward me, hands in his pockets and something dark in his eyes. “What?” I laugh nervously.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head with a smirk.

I can tell it’s absolutely not nothing. It most likely has to do with him catching me wearing my cage for a family function. I only wear it when I have to take a trip, but even then, he calls and says things that…well, I really like wearing it and thinking of those first times months ago.

“I’m just really going to enjoy getting you out of it later,” he murmurs, giving my ass a squeeze and guiding me to the door with that hand.

Fucking hell. This shit at Miles’ house better not take too long now that he planted that seed. My favorite thing, besides Rory, is when Rory talks me into things.

Two and a half hours later, I’m lounging at a picnic table in Miles’ backyard, watching Rory, Miles, Brett, and my nephews play a pickup game of football in the backyard.

I am incredibly proud at the moment that my boyfriend is much more athletic than I am.

It’s just a bonus that he looks really sexy doing it, too, and throwing me a wink and a grin each time he makes a good play.

My ass is starting to ache sitting on this wooden plank, so I get up and stretch.

Making my way into the house, I use the restroom and grab another beer from the fridge.

So far, today hasn’t been horrible. Brett and Miles honestly seem to really like Rory, but I mean, what’s not to like?

He’s a man of all seasons and intelligent beyond words.

Even my nephews think he’s cool, but his football skills were all that was needed to impress them.

Mom flashes me an approving smile as she carts a casserole dish out onto the patio.

“He’s a very sweet man, Charlie,” she tells me. “You did good.”

I find myself blushing at her approval, but I can’t disagree.

Thank God, though, she doesn’t know what that sweet man can get up to in the privacy of our own home.

Sweet isn’t exactly the only word I’d use to describe our home life.

He is sweet—sweeter than I ever knew was possible—but my sheltered brain still dubs some of our intimate moments as filthy.

Fuck . Wrong thoughts to have at a family function.

Laughing at myself, I shake my head and reach for a bag of chips on the counter. The front door slams shut, and I hear footsteps. The way my heart sinks, I think I know who it is.

When Shane steps into the kitchen, I suspect this good day has just been ruined. He stops in the doorway as soon as he sees me, his face impassive. Glancing at the patio doors, he murmurs, “Everyone outside?”

“Yeah. The boys are playing football with Miles, Brett, and Rory. Mom just went back out, too.”

His expression falls. Glancing back at me, he frowns. What the hell is that for?

“You brought him again?”

Him? Is he serious?

“Yeah,” I say as casually as I can, trying not to sound pissed off. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Scoffing, Shane rolls his eyes and stomps out to the backyard. What a dick. Such a fucking dick.

“Shane?” a woman’s voice calls. “Where am I going?” A slender brunette appears in the doorway, looking lost and holding a tray of Rice Krispies Treats. “Oh! Sorry.” She startles, pressing a hand over her heart. “Hi. I’m Clarissa, Shane’s girlfriend.”

His girlfriend? What happened to Amy?

“Uh…hi. I’m Charlie. Shane’s out back. Here. Let me take that for you.”

Showing her through the patio doors, I carry her offering to one of the tables Miles has set up.

Clarissa thanks me and scampers off to Shane’s side, where he’s talking to our mom, who looks equally surprised to be meeting a new woman.

It’s no secret to me that my brother hasn’t ever been faithful to any of his girlfriends, but I thought he was more serious about Amy. I guess I was wrong.

Mom makes her way over to me and whispers under her breath, “What happened to Amy?”