Sleep refuses to come. The belt's ache has become constant.
I go downstairs near midnight.
Jordan stands by the sink in sweatpants and nothing else.
My breath stops. All that bare olive skin. The planes of his chest. The line of muscle disappearing into the waistband.
We stare at each other for a moment too long.
"Can't sleep either?" His voice is rough.
I shake my head. Don't trust words.
"Want some water?"
"Yes."
He reaches for a glass. His shoulders flex. I track the movement.
He fills it from the tap. Turns. Extends it toward me.
I have to cross the kitchen to take it. Have to move into his space.
Our fingers brush when I take the glass. Electricity shoots up my arm. Straight to my core. The belt presses against the ache and I nearly gasp.
I drink. Watch him over the rim. His chest rises and falls. Faster than it should for someone just standing still.
"Maya." My name is careful. Controlled. "We should talk about—"
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're about to say. I don't want to hear it."
"Then what do you want?"
The question lands like a match to gasoline. Heat floods through me. My skin feels too tight. The belt feels like a cage around wanting that's going to break me.
"I don't know."
"Liar." He takes one step closer. "Say it."
"Say what?"
"Say what you want." Another step. His voice drops. "Out loud."
The words stick in my throat. Confession and condemnation both.
"You."
Something in his expression breaks. Or maybe it's his control.
I don't know who moves first. The space just collapses. His mouth crashes into mine and I taste every impulse I've been drowning. His hands bracket my hips and lift. I wrap my legs around his waist without thinking.
His tongue traces my lower lip and I open for him. He takes the invitation. One hand fists in my hair. The other grips my thigh hard enough to bruise. I arch into him and feel his hardness through fabric and steel and it's not enough. Not nearly enough.
"This is wrong." He says it against my mouth but doesn't stop.
"I know."
"Your father is right upstairs."
"I don't care." My hands map his chest. His shoulders.
He makes a sound low in his throat. Desperate. Wrecked. His mouth moves to my jaw. My neck. Every touch sends sparks down my spine.
"We should stop."
Instead, his hips press forward. The friction makes me gasp. The belt prevents everything I need but somehow that makes the wanting sharper.
My legs tighten around his waist. Pulling him impossibly closer. His hand slides up my thigh. Over my hip. Higher.
Then his palm flattens against my stomach and slides lower. Searching. His fingers hit steel and he freezes.
"What is this?"
The mood shatters. Reality floods back cold and brutal.
"A chastity belt." Humiliation burns through me. "My parents locked it on me. The night of my birthday."
He pulls back. His expression shifts from confusion to understanding to fury so fast I can't track it.
"Fuck, Maya." He steps away. His chest heaves. "I can't believe they—" He stops. Looks at me like I'm something broken. "Jesus Christ." His hands drop. "Who has the key?"
"No one. Grant was supposed to but he doesn't actually have it."
His jaw clenches. Rage and helplessness war across his face.
"This is abuse."
"I know."
"Do you?" He crosses back to me. Slower. More controlled. "Because you're trapped in that thing. And they did that to you while you were unconscious."
"I'm aware."
"Are you?" His voice drops. Gets dangerous. "Because I want you. And you're standing here wanting me back. And we can't do anything about it. They made sure of that."
The words hit like physical blows. Exposing everything.
"I know." My voice cracks. "I know I can't—that we can't—"
"But I can still touch you." His hand lifts. Cups my face with devastating gentleness. "Not there. But everywhere else."
"Jordan—"
"Tell me you don't want that. Tell me you want me to stop and I will."
I can't. The lie won't form.
His thumb traces my lower lip. My breathing goes ragged. He watches my response with dark eyes.
"I want you." The confession tears free. "I hate that I want you. I hate that it makes everything impossible. But I can't stop."
"I know." His other hand settles on my waist. "I can't either."
"Then don't."
My hand drops between us. Finds him through sweatpants. Hard and wanting and desperate. I wrap my fingers around him and he gasps against my mouth.
"Maya." Prayer and warning. "You don't have to—"
"I want to."
I've never done this. Never touched anyone like this. But my body knows. Pressure and rhythm. The way his breathing changes. The sound he makes when I tighten my grip.
His forehead drops to mine. Hips moving into my hand. Chasing friction the way I'm chasing relief I can't have.
"That feels—fuck—"
His hand slides under my shirt. Finds skin. Every touch is permission and trespass both.
Footsteps on the stairs.
We tear apart. I slide off the counter. He turns to the sink. Both of us breathing like we've run miles.
I grab my forgotten water glass. Press it to my lips.
Dad enters squinting.
"Everything alright down here?"
"Fine." My voice somehow stays steady. "Just getting water."
"Jordan?"
"Same. Couldn't sleep."
Dad fills his own glass. His eyes move between us. Searching for wrongness.
I pray he can't see my pulse hammering. Can't smell want still electric in the air.
"Don't stay up too late. Big day tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"Church committee meeting. Dinner with the Ellisons." He looks at me. "You'll need to be there."
"Of course."
He drinks. Sets his glass down. Studies us one more time.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
We wait. Frozen. Until his footsteps fade. Until his door clicks shut.
"That was close." Jordan's whisper barely carries.
"Too close."
"Maya, we can't—"
"I know."
But neither of us moves. The space between us still hums. Dangerous. Full of everything we can't have.
"You should go upstairs."
"So should you."
"I will. In a minute."
The kitchen clock marks stolen seconds. Neither of us leaves.
Finally, I force myself toward the stairs. Each step costs something.
At the doorway, I look back.
He's gripping the counter. Knuckles white. The look he gives me is so raw with want and frustration that I know everything just changed between us.