Barred Desires (The Deepest Desires 1)

Waking up in a panic, my heart is pounding so hard in my chest, I’m sure it’s going to dislodge itself. The scratchy feeling in my throat makes me think I was screaming in my sleep, but I can’t be sure. Feeling arms around me, I panic, jumping back on the bed, definitely screaming this time.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s me, Branson. You’re okay.”

It takes me a moment to register his words and his voice.

Branson.

It’s just Branson.

I’m not there. I haven’t been there in many years.

I’m safe. With Branson.

Letting out a shaky breath, I allow myself to melt into his warm touch.

I don’t realize I’ve been crying until his fingers come up and wipe the tears away.

He gently rubs my back, something he’s done a few times before, and it always soothes me. His touch grounds me and makes me feel safe.

“I think you were having a nightmare. You were thrashing and yelling, but you’re okay. I’m here,” he repeats, almost cooing at me.

Wrapping my arms around his torso, holding on to him, the tears stream down my cheeks. I wish I could stop them, but they fall harder when he holds me tighter and tells me it’s alright.

“Shhh, baby, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Baby.

He called me baby.

Nuzzling my face into his neck, he smells so good. He always smells so good.

I place a kiss on his neck, and he stiffens.

I do it again. His skin feels so hot against my lips.

He pulls back enough to look at me. It’s dark in here, but my eyes have adjusted, and I can see him. His big, dark eyes watch me, and I can’t read the look in them.

If I had to guess, I would say it’s desire staring back at me. However, that could be me projecting, because I am full of desire right now—all fear felt previously is gone.

He brings his hand up to cup my face while he looks at me. His thumb is feather-light on my cheek as he rubs it back and forth.

My eyes flutter closed at the sensation. It feels so good to have his hands on my face, to have them anywhere on me.

Letting out a sigh, I bring my lips to his. As soon as I feel his lips beneath mine, I groan. The kiss doesn’t last long at all, though, because before it can even start, he pulls away, not kissing me back. Once again.

His face looks pained, his expression torn.

“Luca,” he sighs, sitting up and running his hands down his face. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” I snap, sounding like I’m whining, but I can’t help it. Why can’t we?

“Why not? Because Luca, you’re upset over the nightmare, we’re family, and you’re fucking straight. Take your pick.” His tone is sharp, angry. I don’t understand why.

“I’m not upset, and we aren’t related by blood. It’s okay.” My argument feels pathetic because it is, but I want this so bad. How can he not?

“This isn’t okay… you're not okay. You woke up screaming again, Luca. Even if both of those were true, which they aren’t, and made any difference, which they don’t, you’re still straight. You have a fucking girlfriend, for Christ’s sake.”

Having the overwhelming need to touch him, have him touch me, I reach for him, only to have him pull away.

“Luca, I can’t. I can’t fucking do this with you.” His words cut me like a knife, rejection washing over me like a bucket of ice water.

Jumping off the bed, I make my way to the door. I gotta get out of here. It’s hot and stuffy, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t stay in here with him.

As quick as possible, I pull my shirt over my head and throw on my shoes that are by my desk.

“Luca, what are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“You can’t leave, Luca. It’s the middle of the night. Please sit back down, and we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, and I’m not a child. I can leave if I want to.”

I’m fully aware I’m throwing a fit, but I don’t care. I’m embarrassed that he found me having a nightmare again, and I now feel rejected, which furthers my embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but you know we can’t do this.”

No. I don’t know that.

Opening the door in a hurry, I head toward the stairs.

“Luca, come on, man. Don’t be like this. Let’s talk about this.”

“Leave me alone, Branson.”