Not just fucked her but took her virginity.
I was rough with her, rutting like a feral beast.
Her first time was hard on my kitchen table instead of slow, sweet, caring in a bed.
I didn’t use a condom.
Afterward, instead of tending to her, I’d been rude and selfish. I abandoned her.
Yep. I was a fucking jerk. No wonder I couldn’t sleep. All night, what I’d done to her haunted me, the guilt and self-loathing made more intense when my dreams took a turn toward erotic. What sort of sick fuck had wet dreams after I’d betrayed my friend and hurt Brooke? Me, apparently.
I lifted the cover to see my fully erect dick. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ignored him as I rose just before dawn. But the fucker wouldn’t go down, forcing me to jerk him off. And because it turned out that I was weak and a sexual pervert, when the blow came, I imagined Brooke’s sweet lips around my dick, sucking me off.
Hating myself, I dressed in jeans and a shirt, then headed out to the barn to check in with my foreman. At least the ranch was running well. I had one area in my life that was functioning as it should.
With everything as it should be on the ranch, I took a short walk in the crisp, morning air as the sun made its ascent over the prairie. What was wrong with me? More the point, how could I fix this? I kept telling Brooke that it was wrong for us to be together, and then I betrayed that truth by taking her on my kitchen table. She’d insist that she was a grown woman and could make her own choices. She’d be right, except she was still so young. She didn’t have the lifetime of experience that I’d had. She looked at me like I was a fucking hero, but I was far from that.
But every time I tried to make her see the wrongness of us, she dismissed it. The more I explained it, the more I hurt her. She seemed to take it personally. I didn’t want to give her pain. I just wanted her to understand that the problem was me.
When I headed back to the house, I was determined to talk to her rationally. I needed to find the right words to make her understand that while I cared for and respected her, and yes, found her attractive, I couldn’t be the man she wanted or needed.
Back in the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee and threw together a large omelet that I cut in half to share with her. It was nearing seven, and she still hadn’t made it to the kitchen. Concerned, I headed back to her bedroom.
I knocked on the door. “Brooke?”
When there was no answer, I opened the door and peeked in. The bed was made. Had she slept in it? Did she go running home back to her father? A part of me hoped she had. But if she’d told Frank what had happened, chances were that he’d be here now pointing a shotgun at me.
I went back to the kitchen, ate breakfast, and then showered and put on a suit. I arrived at City Hall earlier than usual, so there was no sign of Sinclair or Trina. I went to Brooke’s office and knocked.
“Yes?”
I opened the door and looked in on her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and yet, she was still so beautiful. I was hit in the gut with twin emotions of guilt and longing. “Are you all right?”
She sighed and looked back down at her paperwork. “Yes.”
“Listen, Brooke, we need to talk.”
“Your lawyer is in your office.”
“What?”
“She’s got the money, I guess.”
I blew out a breath. “We’ll talk later, then.”
She didn’t respond. As I walked to my office, I hated how I’d hurt her, but maybe her anger and resentment was a good thing. Perhaps she finally understood how wrong it was for us to be together. I didn’t like the coolness between us, but if that’s what it took for her to let go of her crush on me, I’d accept it. Clearly, she was stronger than me because I had no willpower when it came to resisting her.
I walked into my office. “Jeannette. You’re here early.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t come in with your wife.”
“I had some ranch business this morning.” I tried to act nonchalant as I sat behind my desk. “Do you want coffee or something?”
“No. Your wife got me some already,” she said, holding up a cup.
I winced at her continued use of wife and hoped Trina hadn’t slipped in and overheard that.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.