I bit the side of my lip to keep myself under control. Then I ran my fingers through his hair again and snuggled closer, because not only did I need the contact, but he was the perfect heat source on this cool night.
He smelled good too, like he was fresh from a shower. And for some reason the resulting lust that stirred through me made me remember why I’d come here in the first place, and what I’d done to him last night.
My eyes snapped open, guilt swamping me.
Pulling away, I looked up at him and choked on my own regret. “Brandt, I...I’m so sorry.”
“What?” He frowned down at me and tilted his head in confusion. “Why?”
I groaned, wondering if I should open this can of worms.
He watched me so intently I decided I couldn’t let my momentum with him backslide.
“I, uh, if I ask you something serious,” I started before closing my eyes and wondering if I should continue before I did anyway, “would you be perfectly honest with me?”
A bitter laugh welled from him. “Sarah, you just learned the worst, deepest darkest secret I’ve ever had. I think it’s safe to say I have absolutely no reason to lie about anything from here on out.”
“Well...” I opened my lashes to watch his face. Then I stroked his arm, already trying to soothe him in case my question pulled a trigger. “When...when Colton told everyone how he saw your mom cornering you against the wall and kneeling in front of you—” As his muscles contracted, I petted him a little faster. “I couldn’t help but remember the way you reacted last night when I trapped you against the wall and sucked your—”
“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.”