Barred Desires (The Deepest Desires 1)

“See, babe. You’re getting hard. You like it. I know you want this. Let me make you feel good,” she says, almost manically, before taking me back into her mouth.

My reaction is purely physical. Of course I’m getting hard, she’s stimulating my dick. This feels wrong, and I don’t want any part of it. My skin is crawling, and the need to put a stop to this is overwhelming. Any guy with a working penis would get hard. That doesn’t mean—

“COURTNEY!” I jump up from the bed, making her fall back on her ass. “I fucking said STOP. I said no! What don’t you fucking get about that?”

I’m shaking at this point and need to leave now, before I completely lose it.

Memories are suddenly flooding my brain, memories that I’ve tried so hard to push down and ignore.

Unwelcome hands on my body. Hushed whispers in the night. His breath on my face.

I can’t do this.

“What the fuck, Luca!” Her hair is a fucking mess, she has mascara running down her cheeks, and her eyes are shooting daggers at me.

Tucking myself back into my jeans, I haul ass to the door, swinging it open so hard, it’ll probably leave a hole. Not allowing myself a second glance, needing to get out of there, I leave her.

I run down the stairs, making a beeline for the back door. It’s in my line of sight and I need fresh air to think, to breathe. Not bothering to look at anyone, I make my way to the door.

Flinging it open, I charge through it, not even bothering to shut it behind me. I can’t.

I just can’t.

Having never been out here, with no idea where I’m going, I keep moving. The streets are quiet, and it has to be almost midnight by now. Going through the fence in the yard, coming up to a huge tree, I finally allow myself to stop walking.

My head hangs heavy between my shoulders as I lean my back up against the tree.

I feel like I’m going to pass out.

My heart is beating so erratically, I’m certain it’s going to fly straight out of my chest.

I. CAN’T. FUCKING. BREATHE.

Being so caught up in trying to catch my breath and not pass out, I don’t even hear anyone come up beside me, until a firm hand grabs onto my shoulder.

“Hey, hey, Luca. Breathe.”

Branson.

He turns me so we’re face-to-face, both hands now resting on my shoulders. Grounding me. Bringing me back to the here and now.

“Can you breathe for me?” he coos next to my ear. “Come on, Luc. Take a big deep breath for me, in through your nose.”

I do as he says.

“That’s it. Now exhale through your mouth.”

Again, doing as he says.

“Alright, good. Let’s do that again. Deep breath in and out.” He’s now rubbing my back in soft, soothing circles.

I do as he says. I breathe in and out several more times. My eyes start to sting and I’m afraid I’m going to start to cry in front of him, which cannot happen. This is embarrassing enough without bursting into tears.

He’s still soothingly rubbing my back when I bring my eyes up, finally, to meet his.

And fuck, I wish I hadn’t.

His eyebrows are drawn together, dark eyes large and swimming with worry. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

Against all my efforts, my eyes fill with tears, and I immediately look down at my feet.

This cannot be happening.

“Fuck, Luca. Come here, man.” As he says this, he pulls me into a hug, and I lose it.

Wrapping my hands around his torso so tightly, I’m shocked I don’t break him. The warm comfort opens the floodgates, and I silently cry on his shoulder.

Years of repressed feelings and broken emotions releasing onto the shoulder of my stepbrother.