Read Online Twice the Touch by Cara Dee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cara Dee
Tags: Erótica, Literature & Fiction
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like that. And…" She blows out a breath. "Okay, the thing is, I can't really go into detail, because it would betray his trust in me, and he doesn’t want me to say anything. So, all I'm going to ask is that you go easy on him when it comes to his sexuality."
My eyebrows rise; meanwhile, I look down at the ground, thinking. " His sexuality," I state.
"Yes. It has to do with his childhood. His father, what that rat-bastard did. Brayden's struggling with his feelings—"
"Evangeline." I interrupt her, worried and tense. "If something has happened to Brayden, someone who can help needs to know."
I'm not that person, as much as I want to be. T here are people who've suffered everything from emotional abuse to brutal rape and then turn to BDSM, using it as either therapy or, much worse, a way to punish themselves. On the outside, they can look like a masochist, and he or she can even seem serene, as if they're getting what they think they deserve. And if you don’t know how to see the difference between that and arousal, it will only get worse with time.
"Oh! It's nothing like that. Fuck. Um." She's hesitating again. "Let's just say he was brought up to believe one thing, but he actually doesn’t. His father says one thing is wrong, but it happens to be what Brayden feels toward, ah, someone in particular."
I exhale loud ly, both relieved he isn't a victim of abuse and…a little aggravated because Evangeline's speaking in riddles. But appreciation makes itself known; she's protective of her boyfriend, and that’s admirable.
Though, if I were to venture a guess, I'd say Brayden grew up hearing his father's no doubt demeaning thoughts on homosexuality and bisexuality. It makes sense, especially if Brayden wants a Dom who is a man. There might even be attraction, which could cause issues with what he's supposed to think—according to his father. It's not like that type of man is a rare breed. My brothers are like that, too. Men are men; they're supposed to provide, be strong, and only like pussy.
" Brayden knows what he wants, Mark," she adds softly . "He's just struggling to come to terms with it. I know I don’t make sense—"
I cut her off again, though gentler this time. "You do make sense. And I promise I'll take all of this into consideration."
"Thank you so much." Her relief is evident. "So, we'll see you tonight? Seven o'clock?"
"Sharp."
"Sharp," she echoes with a smile in her voice. "Bye."
"See you soon." I end the call.
Making my way inside the restaurant, I greet my accountant and Brent, my gym manager, the two people whom I trust with my company. It's a small chain of gyms around the city, and it affords me the luxury of not needing to worry about my bank statements or whether to buy a cheap brand of cereal or the one I like. I won't say the company runs itself, but it does run without me. The only thing I need to do is meet up with Tara and Brent once a month to make sure it's all good.
With that steady paycheck, I can work as much or as little at Switch as I want, but it's a job I enjoy. That’s why I accepted the responsibility when Nicholas needed someone to be in charge of the bartenders. It also provides free membership—a definite perk.
*
I'm no chef, so by the time our evening is about to begin, the takeout I've ordered arrives. It's what I do unless we're talking cereal, scrambled eggs, burnt toast, and mac and cheese.
After paying the delivery guy, I spread the containers out on the kitchen table, hoping Evangeline and Brayden like Spanish food. Beers and sodas follow.
Being hungry as fuck, I grab one of the tapas servings and eat as I absentmindedly walk through my condo to adjust the lighting. Dimmed low is good for tonight. It 'll create a comfortable atmosphere in my already homey place. A three-bedroom apartment. Old wooden floors, walls in warm colors, furniture made of sturdy, dark wood. It's a bachelor pad with a touch of "my mother interfered." And I got lucky with this
My eyebrows rise; meanwhile, I look down at the ground, thinking. " His sexuality," I state.
"Yes. It has to do with his childhood. His father, what that rat-bastard did. Brayden's struggling with his feelings—"
"Evangeline." I interrupt her, worried and tense. "If something has happened to Brayden, someone who can help needs to know."
I'm not that person, as much as I want to be. T here are people who've suffered everything from emotional abuse to brutal rape and then turn to BDSM, using it as either therapy or, much worse, a way to punish themselves. On the outside, they can look like a masochist, and he or she can even seem serene, as if they're getting what they think they deserve. And if you don’t know how to see the difference between that and arousal, it will only get worse with time.
"Oh! It's nothing like that. Fuck. Um." She's hesitating again. "Let's just say he was brought up to believe one thing, but he actually doesn’t. His father says one thing is wrong, but it happens to be what Brayden feels toward, ah, someone in particular."
I exhale loud ly, both relieved he isn't a victim of abuse and…a little aggravated because Evangeline's speaking in riddles. But appreciation makes itself known; she's protective of her boyfriend, and that’s admirable.
Though, if I were to venture a guess, I'd say Brayden grew up hearing his father's no doubt demeaning thoughts on homosexuality and bisexuality. It makes sense, especially if Brayden wants a Dom who is a man. There might even be attraction, which could cause issues with what he's supposed to think—according to his father. It's not like that type of man is a rare breed. My brothers are like that, too. Men are men; they're supposed to provide, be strong, and only like pussy.
" Brayden knows what he wants, Mark," she adds softly . "He's just struggling to come to terms with it. I know I don’t make sense—"
I cut her off again, though gentler this time. "You do make sense. And I promise I'll take all of this into consideration."
"Thank you so much." Her relief is evident. "So, we'll see you tonight? Seven o'clock?"
"Sharp."
"Sharp," she echoes with a smile in her voice. "Bye."
"See you soon." I end the call.
Making my way inside the restaurant, I greet my accountant and Brent, my gym manager, the two people whom I trust with my company. It's a small chain of gyms around the city, and it affords me the luxury of not needing to worry about my bank statements or whether to buy a cheap brand of cereal or the one I like. I won't say the company runs itself, but it does run without me. The only thing I need to do is meet up with Tara and Brent once a month to make sure it's all good.
With that steady paycheck, I can work as much or as little at Switch as I want, but it's a job I enjoy. That’s why I accepted the responsibility when Nicholas needed someone to be in charge of the bartenders. It also provides free membership—a definite perk.
*
I'm no chef, so by the time our evening is about to begin, the takeout I've ordered arrives. It's what I do unless we're talking cereal, scrambled eggs, burnt toast, and mac and cheese.
After paying the delivery guy, I spread the containers out on the kitchen table, hoping Evangeline and Brayden like Spanish food. Beers and sodas follow.
Being hungry as fuck, I grab one of the tapas servings and eat as I absentmindedly walk through my condo to adjust the lighting. Dimmed low is good for tonight. It 'll create a comfortable atmosphere in my already homey place. A three-bedroom apartment. Old wooden floors, walls in warm colors, furniture made of sturdy, dark wood. It's a bachelor pad with a touch of "my mother interfered." And I got lucky with this
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