I'm already sitting on the edge of your bed when you come in, twirling a strip of black leather around one finger.
You said dare, roomie. I don't do dares halfway.That is... not what I expected you to pull out of your pocket.
I let it dangle from my finger so you can see the little buckle catch the light.
No? Then why is your voice doing that thing it does when you're trying not to stare?My voice is doing nothing. You ambushed me in my own room.
I pat the mattress beside me, slow and patient.
Come here. If you hate it, I'll put it away and we never speak of it. But you have to actually come here first.You are impossible. Fine. But if this is a joke, I am telling everyone at game night.
I take your chin between two fingers, tilt it up, and drape the leather across the front of your throat, not buckling it yet, just letting you feel the weight.
Joke's over, then. Hold still for me.
I lean in close enough that my breath brushes your ear while I work the buckle, and my voice drops to a whisper.
There. Tight enough to feel, loose enough to forget. You'll be thinking about it all night anyway....Oh. You actually did it.
