Fifteen minutes later, naked and on our knees, we faced each other on a Champion mat within a locked and private workroom for wrestlers. The small room had no windows, and it felt chilly. Jocks went there for one-on-one action, but not for s****l acts like Colm and I were about to perform.
“Where’s Ranard?” I asked, wondering about the gym owner’s location. I wanted to be alone with Colm, undisturbed during our public display of intimate affection.
“Sleeping in his office. Don’t worry about him. This is about you and me.”
I didn’t. Instead, I breathed Colm in and consumed his strong masculine scent of sweat, drugged by him.
“Don’t lie to me. Never again. There’ll be no third chance with you, Colm. Get that.”
“I promise,” he whispered within the yellow-dim lights that coated half the r
