Colby’s lips touched his ear and whispered words full of promise. “Soon. I’m looking forward to breaking you in, boy.”
The words sent electricity through his system, and Keats worried he’d shoot off in his pants like a teenager if Colby stroked him again. So he was grateful when Colby backed away and swung open the truck door. He gave a little nod, indicating that Keats needed to get in. They didn’t speak the entire drive home. And though fear of the unknown was ever present, Keats stayed rock hard and aching the entire way home.
When Keats tried to adjust the front of his suddenly too-tight jeans without success, Colby noticed. And smiled. Evilly.
He really was a sadistic bastard.
They pull
ed into Colby’s driveway a few minutes later, and Keats glanced over at Georgia’s place. He wondered what she’d think if she knew what was happening right now. Knowing her, she’d probably be cheering them on.
“What’re you smiling about?” Colby asked, cutting off the ignition.
Keats hadn’t even realized he was doing it. “Nothing.”
Colby sniffed. “She’s hard not to think about, huh?”
“She was the one who encouraged me to go watch you play tonight. I don’t think she bought either of our bullshit excuses.”
Colby huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m guessing you’re right. Plus, that gorgeous woman has a serious boy-on-boy fetish. Maybe she’s hoping we’ll let her watch.”
“Would you do that?”
He shifted on his seat and met Keats’s gaze. “Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine and mine alone.”
Somehow the words settled the jumpy feeling in his stomach. There was safety in knowing that this first time would be private and that Colby would take the lead completely. Keats had come to terms with the knowledge that he wanted this—God, how he wanted it. But if it had been up to him to make the moves or decisions, he probably would never manage to go through with it. He’d psych himself out like he had when Colby had left him standing in the hallway.
“Before we go in, we need to get a few necessary things out of the way,” Colby said, all business but his gaze no less heated in the chilly cab of the truck. “I’m tested monthly as an employee of The Ranch, and I always use condoms.”
Keats licked his lips quickly. “I have to get a physical and blood work every six months for the temporary agency I get the construction work through. I’ve always used condoms, too. And I got tested last month after I found out my ex-girlfriend was using. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
Colby nodded. “Do you have any things you’re absolutely not okay with? Hard limits.”
Keats didn’t know what to do with his hands. He tucked them in his jacket pockets. “I’m not sure I know enough to even know where those limits would be yet. But I’m okay with . . . trying stuff to see how it goes.”
Colby seemed to approve of that answer. “We’re going to use a stoplight system. Red is your safe word. That stops everything immediately, no questions asked. Use yellow if you need me to check in with you, if something might be too much. And if I ask you how you’re doing and you’re completely on board, you can give me a green. We can find your limits together.”
Keats smirked but couldn’t look up. “Is it bad that you slipping into teacher mode is getting me even harder?”
Colby made some sound in the back of his throat. “Are you trying to fuck with my head?”
“Come on,” Keats said, feeling braver now that he’d made the decision to do this. “You never had a fantasy about a teacher? I know you’re not panting after your students, but what about back when you were in school?”
“I did have an English professor in college who had that hot librarian thing going on. She was so damn prim and pretentious, but I had a feeling it was all for show. I wanted to tie her to her desk and spank her with the awful book she was making us read just to see what she’d be like when she dropped the façade.”
Keats shifted in the seat, the image of Colby doing that making his blood heat. He chewed his lip for a moment. “I remember I used to focus on your hands when you were teaching me guitar because anything more than that was too scary. I would wonder what you did to guys with those big hands, how they would feel.”
Colby let out a gruff sound, proving that Keats wasn’t the only one getting hot and bothered. “Well, at least now I know why it took you so long to get the hang of your F chord.”
Keats smiled, still focusing on his lap.
Colby’s fingers closed around the back of Keats’s neck with firm pressure. “You ready to feel those hands, Keats? I’ll gladly show you exactly what I like to do with them.”
Keats inhaled a long, shuddering breath. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Good. Then go inside and to my room. Shut the curtains, take off your shirt, boots, and socks. All I want you wearing are these jeans. Lace your hands behind your head and put your back to the door. I’ll come in when I’m ready.”
Keats might have been shaking, but he refused to acknowledge the weakness. “Yes, sir.”