Part 13 (2/2)

Brent's arms tightened around her and she burrowed against him, tucking her head under his chin. She sniffled, embarra.s.sed that she was having a mini breakdown in a public place. But Brent's strong and comforting presence seemed to insulate her and hold the mortification at bay.

His warmth and strength poured into her and she let out a sigh as the heavy weight that she'd carried all these years lightened, if only a little.

”So you became adept at hiding it from everyone, putting on a mask of serenity and kindness that would keep people from looking too closely at you and your home life.” He said it as a fact and not a question, so she only nodded, feeling numb and disconnected from the entire conversation.

He rubbed gentle circles over her back, which slowly helped calm her breathing enough to answer. ”By the time I got to high school I somehow made it into the 'popular' set, although I have no earthly idea how.”

She laid her hand over Brent's heart, letting the steady beat and his warmth soothe her. ”I didn't have any close friends to speak of since I couldn't risk letting anyone get that close to me or my deep, dark secret. Oh, there were a few people I liked to see at school and who made me smile, like Mich.e.l.le. I never shared too much that was personal with any of them, though. I couldn't risk it. But I interacted just enough so that I began to look forward to seeing them and hearing about their lives that were so much more normal and calm than mine.”

Sandra shuddered at the painful memories that swamped her and pulled back a little from Brent. His touch was wonderful, but right now there was too much going on inside her, so much that she was afraid she might burst if she allowed any more input into her overtaxed brain.

She sucked in a breath as more words tumbled out. ”I did go out of my way to see the good in others and try to be kind at all times, no matter how much I was tempted to lash out.” She frowned a minute, wondering at Brent's ability to be so accurate on that count. Maybe he knew someone who had been through something similar? She hoped not.

She cleared her throat as more words bubbled up. ”I refused to be anything like my mother, and that included raising my voice or using harsh words toward anyone. I never invited anyone to my house. I rarely attended parties or get-togethers, and then only when my mom was partying for the weekend or shacked up at the house of some guy she had just met.” She shook her head. ”I just couldn't risk it. But somehow amid all that I ended up being popular.”

Sandra licked her lips, suddenly wis.h.i.+ng she were back in bed and not drowning in memories from the past. ”I can only surmise that a good chunk of that was because I filled out early.” She glanced down at her generous cleavage and then up to meet Brent's gaze. ”I grew into my curves before most of the other girls, and the boys started to take notice. I'm surprised I made it out of high school a virgin for all the times that boys would try to manipulate me into having s.e.x, a male teacher tried to kiss me or 'accidentally' brush against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s or my a.s.s, or Mom brought one of her drunken boyfriends home from the bar.”

She squeezed her eyes shut against the vivid memories that tried to flood back. ”I learned early on to keep my room locked and stay out of sight. The upside was that if she brought one of them home, she wanted to look like the perfect mother, so she never touched me on those nights.”

Brent offered her a smile and she basked in its warmth for a few seconds before continuing. ”I would usually try to sneak out the next morning before either of them woke up. I'd go hang out at the park or on the bleachers at the high school until I thought it was late enough that the men would be gone. It usually took until nightfall for Mom to sober up, so I learned to time it well, and she never seemed to care that I had been gone all day.”

Brent cupped her cheek in his large hand, the warmth of the contact burning through her and softening the hard core of ice that had formed inside her belly before she'd told him.

”No child should have to deal with something like that. Children should be loved, cherished-protected. I'm sorry you had to go through that.” He brushed a slow kiss over her trembling lips before tucking her against him again.

She didn't answer, but a sense of the rightness of his touch soothed her. She was glad he hadn't said he understood. No one understood unless they'd been through it, and she didn't want to think about this wonderful man ever having gone through the h.e.l.l she'd survived.

Oddly, it hadn't been as difficult to talk about as she'd feared. The pain was still there, but somehow it was muted. She had expected that reliving those memories would be just as painful as living through them the first time, but in a way it almost felt like she was relating the story about someone else, some stranger. Only the churning of remembered dread deep inside her stomach confirmed that it had indeed happened to her.

”Thank you.” She blew out a slow breath, trying to get used to the sensation of being without all of her heavy secrets. ”I've never told anyone all of that outside of the different CPS agents who came to my school to talk to me. It actually feels good to finally let it out.” She pulled back enough to meet his gaze. ”I never thought I'd say this, but thank you for pus.h.i.+ng me to tell you.”

Brent's lips curved into a gentle smile, his handsome face showing compa.s.sion and something that for a flash of a second she thought might be...no...it couldn't be that. It definitely wasn't love, although there might be the first stirrings of it on her side. She'd seen in Brent's gaze a deep caring, at the very least.

”I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me.” He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing rhythm. ”Now I understand why you have a hard limit about being hit. I won't abuse that knowledge.”

She returned his smile. She'd let her guard down with him. She'd learned never to share any type of personal information with Diego, especially fears and sensitive spots. But she believed Brent when he said he wouldn't do the same. If she was wrong, only time would tell.

She sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wasn't wrong. Please, not about this.

Brent brushed his fingers over her forehead as if he were smoothing away the creases that formed when she frowned. It made her aware of her tense expression, and she forced herself to relax her face and loosen the muscles of her shoulders and neck. It was time to move forward.

”As for now, Master Brent, I think we have more important business to attend to.” She purposely used extra emphasis on his honorific to try to steer the conversation to more comfortable topics. The flash of s.e.xual interest in his deep, blue gaze showed her it had gotten his attention.

He sent her a questioning look, which made her laugh as she'd hoped. ”We have this beautiful fruit tart to eat.”

He laughed and then dropped his gaze to the tart. ”It's too bad we don't have more privacy here. We'll have to try a restaurant with a little more next time, but not too much.”

Her skin heated at the dark hunger that shone in his eyes.

”What would you do if we had a little more privacy?” she pressed, truly curious.

Brent picked a piece of kiwi off the fruit tart and brushed it against her lips. When she opened her mouth to take it, he pulled it away. ”You'll have to be patient. Believe me, there are wonders that are definitely possible, even here, but I don't think you're ready for them yet.” He brushed the kiwi over her lips again, spreading its moisture before lowering his mouth to hers.

He kissed her thoroughly, effectively stealing the sweet juice from her lips and causing her entire body to heat as moisture dampened her panties.

When he pulled back from the kiss her breath was coming in harsh pants. All she wanted at this moment was to have him buried deep inside her. A vivid image of him laying her back on the table, on top of the tart and everything else, to f.u.c.k her hard until she screamed his name in front of the waiter and all the other diners sent s.h.i.+vers racing through her.

As if he could smell her arousal, he threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape and took control of her mouth in a rough, thorough invasion. As the sensual a.s.sault continued, her nipples puckered hard against the cups of her lacy bra and her c.l.i.t throbbed.

The sound of a clearing throat broke through her haze of arousal, and Brent's deep chuckle echoed through her as he slowly broke the kiss and pulled back.

It took her a few long moments to make sense of the situation. When she did, she saw the waiter standing right next to them, looking decidedly uncomfortable. She knew she should feel embarra.s.sed, but she only wished Brent would have ignored the interruption and completed her vivid fantasy right here in front of the world.

”Yes, we'll take the check. Thank you.”

Brent's voice brought her the rest of the way back to the present moment and reality. She must have missed the entire exchange between Brent and the waiter to this point. She tried to gather her wits, but the endorphins still raged through her.

Master Brent had awakened her desire, and her body demanded more. Because right now he was Master Brent and not just Brent. Once again in charge of her desires, and she loved it.

”Let's get back to the Club and we can take care of you before your self-defense cla.s.s this evening. If I send you to the cla.s.s this aroused you might end up killing someone.” He smiled, and she forced her lips to curve in response.

At least he recognized how aroused she was and he wasn't going to leave her this way. Or worse, demand that she not take care of it herself or punish her for even getting wet. She shoved those thoughts away. That was her old life. She needed to bury it and enjoy building this new one.

Master Brent paid the bill and then offered her his hand so she could stand. She was glad for the help-her legs were wobbly and her entire body was busy trying to process all the signals and stimulus of the past hour.

Chapter 15.

By the time they reached Club Desire and she'd changed into something more comfortable, Sandra's body was screaming. Master Brent had taken her back to the room she'd stayed in before, to let her change and freshen up before they headed down to Bas.e.m.e.nt 2.

Not sure what was on the agenda for the day, she slipped on a blue, lacy baby-doll nightie with spaghetti straps. The bottom ruffle tickled the tops of her thighs, flas.h.i.+ng the small sc.r.a.p of material that pa.s.sed for the matching panties each time she moved.

Master Brent growled deep inside his throat. ”I love that color on you, Sandra.”

She turned to find his possessive gaze raking over her. No one would mistake the blatant message of ”mine” in his gaze. The knowledge thrilled her and kicked her arousal back into overdrive. ”It's the same color as your eyes.”

His expression darkened with something that made antic.i.p.ation surge through her. That gaze promised erotic explorations that would leave her boneless with pleasure. And she couldn't wait.

Master Brent led her down to Bas.e.m.e.nt 2, where only a few people were playing scenes or sitting in the locker room chatting.

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