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“It wasn’t the same,” he cut in, reaching for my hand to pull it off his arm and grip my fingers. “Those two events...not the same at all.”
“Yeah, but still...is that what you meant when you said it gave you bad déjà vu? What I did brought up memories of...her?”
He was so quiet I realized I had my answer. So I whispered, “Oh, Brandt, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry I did that to you. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to force the issue. You told me no, repeatedly, and I just didn’t listen. I’m never going to push again. I can’t believe I—”
“No.” He shook me lightly to get me to stop talking. “You did nothing wrong. You’ve never done anything wrong. There is no reason at all for you to be sorry. You’re the only thing holding me together right now. Fuck, you’ve been the one thing holding me together for nine years. It’s in no way your fault that I’m so messed up. I just...I can’t...”
When he shook his head and bowed his face again, I panicked and clutched his arm, worried I’d lost ground by bringing up the subject.
I was so stupid.
I wanted to tell him it was okay, he didn’t have to say anything else, but then I feared things would only get worse if we didn’t clear the air completely right now, so I found myself asking, “You can’t
what?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered, clearly irritated with himself. “Sex is just really weird for me. After...after what she did, I was so fucking ashamed and mortified every time I got wood. Anything to do with my cock was wrong and dirty, and just...contaminated by what I’d done with her. Then Shayla Birmingham seduced me our sophomore year.”
Damn it, I knew she’d been his first. God, I hated beautiful, big-boobed Shayla Birmingham.
“After her, I realized I could do stuff, just not with someone I actually felt close to because then it was like I was, I don’t know, sullying her or something. So I started choosing partners I knew I’d never fall for. From there, I grew to need certain...things.”
He glanced at me. “Not only would it have felt like I was defiling you with my filth if we’d ever done anything, but I...I have strange tastes, and when you asked me to take your virginity, I freaked out. What if...what if I freaked you out, and you never wanted anything to do with me again?”
Mind going crazy with what he might possibly mean by all that, I cleared my throat, then said, “Okay, first of all, you are not filthy. No victim is filthy just because something horrendous happened to them, no matter how culpable you feel. And second...strange how? Are we talking...fecal play, golden showers, cadaver fetishes, bestiality—”
“What? No!” he shouted, staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Nothing like that. Jesus. I meant domination. Just...domination-like shit. I like to be in complete control, okay? I don’t let the girl touch me or be on top or...it’s fucked up, but...I don’t know, a normal kind of fucked up. Last night was the closest I’d ever let anyone get to my dick. But since it was you, I thought...I don’t know.”
“I understand,” I murmured. “And I...I appreciate you trusting me enough to at least let me try. I’m sorry I messed up and—”
“You didn’t mess up. You...it was going well, and I mean really well...until I freaked out.”
I smiled, wondering why I didn’t feel awkward about having this conversation with him. But then...this was Brandt. I’m not sure anything we ever discussed could become awkward between us.
“So...you prefer total control, huh?” I said. Then I lifted my eyebrows with a curious interest. “Like...restraints...kind of control?”
He was slow to answer, but after a moment, he gave a reluctant nod. “Sometimes, yeah. That’s been known to get me off. I don’t want to forcefully subdue anyone or hurt a girl, nothing like that. I just like...doing all the work, you know, while she lays back and takes in the pleasure.”
Air seeped from my lungs as I soaked in the mental picture he drew. It sounded...nice.
Very nice.
Finally, when I had phased out for too long, he whispered, “Sarah?”
I licked my dry lips and glanced up to meet his worried gaze. I knew I needed to answer, but oh my God, what could I say to that? That I actually liked the idea of what he thought was fucked up?
“Sorry, uh...I think I just had a mini-orgasm there. I’m okay now.”
“Orgasm?” He sat up straighter. “You mean you—”
“Yeah,” I muttered, cutting him off. “Sorry. What you described sounded like, well...fun. But whatever. We should probably head back in now...” He opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn’t sure if I could take another sex rejection from him, so I rushed to add, “I have a bad feeling your family’s trying to watch us out the window.”
Simultaneously, we shifted our gazes toward the house, and sure enough, about half a dozen silhouettes loomed at the back windows.
Brandt blew out a shuddered breath and spiked his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say to them. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it. God, I wish Colton had kept his fucking trap shut.”
“It’s okay,” I murmured, petting his arm. “I got this. Let’s just...we’ll get this one confrontation out of the way, and then you can come home with me tonight, okay?”
He nodded, looking relieved. “Okay. Thank you.” Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to my temple as if trying to eke some courage from me before he let out a breath. Then he slid me off his lap and pushed to his feet.
