Page 35 of King of the Cage

My voice echoed around the tiled shower portion of the locker room. The archway concealed most of the bright lights, and there was only a very low light in the showers. Water dripped in a corner, and the smell of shower gel met my nose.

“I know you’re here, Lost Boy, cut it out. Do you have my knife or not?” I demanded and stepped farther into the room. What the hell was I doing? He knew where I was. He was watching me, so why was I walking farther into his little game? I had no idea, except that leaving without my knife felt like failing, and it wasn’t a feeling I liked.

I stilled — a creak sounded ahead and to the right. It was a metallic creak. Then the sound of water pounding the tile. The shower turning on. I turned in that direction and moved quickly. He thought he was so smart, but I’d bet I was faster than him.

I rounded the end of one of the shower blocks and found the running water. A lone shower beating down, there was no one there.

At that moment, I realized my mistake. The shower block was open on both ends. So, all he had to do was make a big circle.

His hands met my hips as I turned around. I nearly slipped on the wet tile. Bran backed me against a wall, his hands hard on my hips, not allowing me to fall.

“Boo. Got you, Santori,” he murmured, a low and wicked sound.

“I was hardly hiding,” I protested haughtily. “I told you I was here for my knife. I’m not leaving without it.”

“Is that right? You want to take my collateral before your debt is paid?” He smirked and, placed his hands on either side of me, caging me against the wall. “Or maybe you came to pay up.”

“You wish,” I bit out, though honestly, his proximity was making it hard to breathe. I was hot all over, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from following the water droplets on his chest as they slid downward.

I looked down, and then my eyes slammed back up to his.

“So, that was your only towel in your locker,” I said, striving for nonchalance.

Bran smirked. “Precisely. Seeing as you knew I didn’t have a towel, I can only surmise you wanted to end up right here, like this. If you wanted to catch me naked, there are easier ways to manage it.”

Wet, glistening from the shower, and so, so naked, Bran O’Connor was a sight to see.

My gaze trailed down his inked, built torso again, slower this time, down the dips in his lower abdomen and over his cock. Long and heavy-looking, it was a lethal weapon. I could only hope he was a shower, not a grower, or he’d put some poor girl in the hospital.

“For the second time in as many days, my eyes are up here, wee one.”

My eyes returned lazily to his.

“Just checking everything’s still attached after that fight. Seemed like a close one,” I retorted tartly.

“It wasn’t.”

“Still as arrogant as ever,” I sighed.

“And you are still finding trouble… Why do I suspect that’s a bit of a pattern with you?”

I shrugged. “Maybe trouble finds me?”

He chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. I stiffened. The movement was oddly intimate and casual at the same time.

“I don’t have your wee knife, if that’s really why you’re here,” Bran said.

“Why else would I be here?” I wondered.

Bran grinned and gave me a slow look over that sent heat trailing in its wake. His implication was clear.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, if you don’t have it, then where is it?”

He stepped closer, and his wet body pressed into my T-shirt, soaking through. I opened my mouth to protest, but his next words stole my outrage.

“Home. You want to come back to mine and look for it?”

He cocked his head to the side and waited for my answer.

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