“You do, don’t you, my little star. You’re shaking for it, aren’t you? Your little hole feels so empty.”
“Yes,” I say, my voice growing tight. “Help me,” I continue. “Help me feel better by getting me ready for your cock.”
A thick finger circles my rim and I cry out, my bottom lip sinking between my teeth. “Please.” My voice rings with desperation. “Please.” I sound so fucking breathless now.
He pulls his fingers away and shakes his head. “Not here.”
“Why not?” I choke out.
“Because it won’t feel good like this.”
“That’s okay.” I grab his shoulders to hold him in place when he tries to set me on my feet. “I can take it.”
His eyes blink hard and he shakes his head. “This is your first time having anything in there, isn’t it?”
“I . . .” Lie, fucking lie. “Yes.” What am I doing? I’m supposed to lie. What’s this power he holds over me? How is that he has me being more honest with him than I ever could be with my sister. It would make sense to do that with someone I’ve known all my life. Not with him.
“I thought as much. We’ll need lube and I’ll need to start off slow. Water will only create unwanted friction, and I could really hurt you.”
“I want to be hurt,” I say, my voice wavering. There’s a stab in my chest, and I immediately want to take back what I said.
“No you don’t. You’ll enjoy having me touch you. You’ll like everything I do to you.”
“No,” I yell out. “I don’t, I don’t want that.” I look away from him.
“Your words are saying one thing, but your body language is telling me another. Why are you lying to me, baby? Why are you trying to push me away?”
Baby. What is it about him using that term that has my heart warming? Why do I almost like it as much as I do when he calls me his little star?
“I . . .”
He traces my bottom with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me. You can tell me anything.”
I can, can’t I? He always listens and doesn’t ever hold any judgment against me. I really can tell him anything, and whenever we’re talking, it’s like I’ve suddenly been spoon-fed truth serum.
“I’m not gay,” I finally let out. More like I can’t look like I am. No one can ever catch us and think I am. It’s more than what my fans would think and the roles I might lose. It’s . . . fuck. I can be more honest with him than I can myself. It makes no sense.
“Maybe not, but you’re definitely not straight either.” He holds a twinkle in his eyes. He thinks he has me all figured out, doesn’t he? So many people think they do. And he actually might be closer than all of them combined.
“I don’t know what I am, but it can’t be this.”
His face falls and he carefully sets me down, stepping away. I miss the weight of his hands. They felt like the only thingkeeping me steady, and now I’m swaying from side to side like I’ve forgotten how to balance myself.
“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I thought you might be in the closet, but I didn’t know . . .” He takes a breath before continuing. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. Is this why you want it to hurt? You want me to be the reason for you not to be who you truly are?” His face trembles, and then he slams fist in the water causing me to jump. “Well, I won’t be the one to do that. I won’t.”
I nod and a huge pressure builds in my chest.
“You liked what we were doing earlier, didn’t you? You liked holding my hand as I gave you the tour of my house? You wanted me to come back to your trailer for way more than pop tarts, didn’t you?”
Tears gather in my eyes, and I grab onto the wall behind me as I feel myself sinking. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?” His chest heaves.
“Yeah, to all of it, okay?! I’m sorry, okay.” My throat clogs with emotion and his face grows sympathetic.
“No, baby. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you when you were clearly not ready, and I’m sorry for all the people who’ve made you feel bad for what you want.”
“I don’t want to want this.” My chest squeezes.