Priceless

by Linda Kage

  I shrugged. “No reason to apologize. If you’re pissed, you should be allowed some pissiness.”

  Sniffing, she wiped at her nose. “Not at you, not when you dropped everything to come help me.”

  “Hey, that’s what I’m here for.” Scrubbing my hands through my hair, I wished I knew how to pry the answers I wanted from her. But Sarah was a stubborn case. The more I prodded, the more she clamped shut.

  I’d have to wait until she was ready to talk. So I just sat there, waiting.

  And going fucking insane.

  About a minute later, she wiped at her cheek and said, “I know it’s selfish to want things, but...I just wanted to know what it’d feel like to date. To kiss. To...to fuck.”

  “To what?” I totally wasn’t expecting her to say that.

  She looked at me, no apology or shame or even embarrassment in her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’m curious, okay. Everyone else goes on dates, and kisses, and...and has sex. Why can’t I? I don’t want to die a moldy, old, crusted-over virgin.”

  “Oh, whatever. You’re only twenty-two. That’s not exactly—”

  “The way my life’s gone so far,” she went on talking over me, “no sex, ever, seems to be how it’s going to continue. I would give anything to know what an orgasm felt like that didn’t come from my own fingers.”

  That’s when my mind blanked out. Call me a guy, whatever, but thinking of Sarah having an orgasm against her own fingers did it for me.

  Unable to hear anything she said after that, my mind went on a mini porn party. All I could picture were her lips parted, head tilted back on a pillow, exposing her throat as her chest arched into the air while her own hand slid sinfully slow between her legs.

  Damn.

  I was as hard as a rock. The idea of Sarah masturbating...

  Yeah. Just...damn.

  I’d never thought of her that way before. I mean, okay, I’d thought of her that way, sure. I was male, she was female, I’d had plenty of sex fantasies about her over the years. But I’d never guessed she thought that way too. She never told dirty jokes, made sexual references, checked out other dudes. I assumed she was completely oblivious to what two people could do when they were naked and alone together.

  Learning she did think that way and even masturbated kind of hurt. I mean, if she’d finally grown interested in sex, why couldn’t she have been interested in sex with me?

  And fuck, why did my brain keep going there? There were other reasons I’d always stayed away in that regard. I was too fucked up to be anything else for her but a friend.

  I tended to be a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy. One and done. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

  When I thought about it, I realized I was basically a douche when it came to sex, so I usually shied away from thinking about it because I wasn’t exactly proud to be a douche. That was just how it turned out.

  I didn’t date, reason number one why it had felt so uncomfortable to take Julianna out. I didn’t enter relationships. I hooked up with women who were also only interested in nothing but the nookie with me, and I didn’t stay friends with any of my past partners. I had Sarah for anything that wasn’t sexual, so I had no use for anything else but a good time from others.

  That was why I was going to stay far away from all of Sarah’s sex parts. She deserved the best, and I had no fucking clue how to be any kind of boyfriend.

  But thinking of her dating someone else, knowing he would get to know what it felt like to be inside her and give her that orgasm she so earnestly craved, didn’t exactly fill me with the warm fuzzies. Honestly, it scared the shit out of me.

  Sarah wouldn’t be with a guy until she felt comfortable with him, which meant she’d have to get close to him and like him. I didn’t want her getting closer to some other asshole than she was to me. I didn’t want some strange fucker taking my spot in her bed.

  She was mine.

  Except I couldn’t claim her for myself, which was a dilemma that I could never tell her about because she’d probably punch me in the nads for even thinking what I was thinking. But I still couldn’t help it. And I still didn’t want her dating. All the while, I had to suck it up and be a supportive friend and maybe even help her out somehow, though fuck, I couldn’t breathe so well.

  I had a dooming premonition I was going to lose her because of her sudden desire to experience a sex life.

  I suddenly hated sex.

  Shit. No, I didn’t.

  “Brandt?”

  “Hmm?” I jerked my gaze up to find Sarah frowning in concern.

  Her brow knit as she said, “You phased out on me.”

  Damn, what had we been talking about? Oh yeah: her and masturbation.

  Fuck. Still hard and still not able to hate sex even a little.

  I cleared my throat and shook my head, “Yeah, I...I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “You don’t think I should have those kinds of urges, do you?” Her eyes were wide and sad as if she truly believed I wanted her to remain sexless.

  Okay, so maybe I did. But that was for my own selfish reasons, because I couldn’t claim her for myself and I certainly couldn’t handle the idea of any other man ever having her. It was not because I wanted her to be miserable.

  With a sigh, I flopped backward on her bed and stared up at her ceiling despondently. Talking sex with her was a no-win situation.

  “Right now, all I want to know is why I had to cancel my date to pick you up from yours.”

  Hugging herself, she rocked back and forth as she muttered, “I didn’t mean for you to cancel your date. You could’ve just dropped me off at home and continued on your way. Or better yet, told me you were busy. I would’ve understood.”

  “You sent me a fucking SOS!” I yelled. Then immediately quieted because I remembered other occupants of the house were sleeping. “You think I would’ve been able to continue a date after that? Fuck my date. Just tell me what happened.”

  “I overreacted!” she whisper-hissed back. “Okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you, and I apologize.”

  “And fuck the apologies. Just...talk already!”

  “No.”

  “Sarah,” I growled, feeling a vein in my neck pulse dangerously. “I swear, I’m a second away from losing my shit.”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Why?” I sat up to be on a more even level with her.

  “Because I feel like an idiot.” She bowed her head as a sob made her entire torso shudder. “I should’ve known Seth wanting to go out with me because he was actually interested was too good to be true. And I’m a fool for falling for his lies.”

  God, she was crying again. I set my hand on her back. “You’re not an idiot, no matter what. And I’m going to kill him, no matter what. So you might as well just tell me why I am.”

  “Fine.”

  After wiping at the tears on her cheeks, she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “His friend texted his phone while he was in the other room getting us some drinks. And this is...well, here’s the group-text conversation about four or five of them have had over the past few days.”

  She tapped into her photos where she’d taken a couple screenshots of some texts. Frowning when she handed them to me, I watched her pale face a minute, wondering what could be so incriminating from a text.

  Then I frowned. “He didn’t passcode protect his phone?” After my cell phone encounter with Shayla in high school, I’d always protected my phone.

  She rolled her eyes. “Worse. His code was 1-2-3-4.”

  “Ah.” Finally ready to see what she had to show me, I glanced down and read the bottom, most recent message first.

  It said: Don’t forget, asshole. You need to provide proof before we pay you.

  That made no sense to me, so I moved up to the one above it.

  Have you nailed the cripple yet?

  “What?” I breathed out, the air stalling in my chest.

  Needing to start from the b
eginning, I found the first text and promptly became sicker and sicker from every post I read on my way back to the end.

  Apparently, Sarah had been the object of a challenge. A couple of Seth’s buddies had dared him to ask her out and then sleep with her tonight. He hadn’t wanted to, but they’d kept picking at him, even offering to pay him until the price rose to over two hundred dollars. Finally, he’d been forced into it to save face.

  “What the fuck?” I shook my head, unable to believe my eyes.

  What...why...how could anyone do this to Sarah?

  They didn’t even know her. They had no idea how amazing, and sweet, and spirited she was.

  They’d only seen something to ridicule and...and they’d hurt her.

  Those bastards had hurt Sarah.

  I looked up, feeling as if a Mack truck had slammed into my chest. Sarah’s eyes grew big when she saw my expression. I wasn’t sure what I looked like; I was too dazed to care. But she gripped my hand and whispered, “Please don’t lose it.”

  For some reason, those four words flipped a switch inside me. I went from hurt on her behalf to outright livid.

  “Motherfucker,” I hissed, curling my finger around the phone that held such vile words about my Sarah until I swore I heard the plastic case crack.

  That prick was going to hurt for this. He was going to bleed, and scream, and cry for what he’d done to her. And then he was going to bleed, and scream, and cry all over again. I couldn’t believe I’d left him in that apartment untouched. I was such a fucking idiot.

  Winding back my arm to throw the offending words on her phone as hard as I could against the wall, I paused when Sarah cringed and ducked, covering her head with her arms.

  Shit.

  Freezing, with my arm raised, I said, “I’m not losing it.” I was in complete, utter, murderous control.

  After placing the phone gently in her lap, I stood up, murmuring, “I gotta go.”

  “No!” She leaped off the bed after me, and I had to catch her or she would’ve fallen flat on her face.

  “Sarah!” Gripping her arms, I pulled her against my chest and then eased us back onto the bed. “What the hell?”

  She clung to me like superglue. “Don’t go over there. Please. You could get hurt.”

  When I sniffed at the likelihood of that, she said in a stronger voice, “You could get into trouble.”

  That was more probable, but I didn’t care. “He can’t get away with doing this to you.” And neither would the friends who’d talked him into doing it. As soon as I beat him for his offenses against Sarah, I was going to beat the addresses of all his punk-ass buddies out of him next.

  But try as I might to pry her arms from around me, my best friend refused to budge.

  “Let go,” I commanded.

  “No.” Shaking her head, she buried her face against my chest and wept, soaking my shirt with her tears. I swear, each drop that fell from her eyes felt like acid sizzling directly against my soul. I hated her pain. “Don’t leave me,” she choked out. “Please. I need you. Right here, right now. Don’t go.”

  I closed my eyes and tilted my face in until my nose was buried in her hair and I could inhale her familiar scent.

  “Damn you,” I whispered, gathering her up so I could lay us both down on the bed, me with my head cushioned in one of her pillows, and her plastered to my side with her cheek on my chest. Banding one arm around her waist and cupping the back of her neck with my other hand, I kissed her hair and prayed for her pain to stop.

  I could always go back to apartment 5A on Locust Street tomorrow. Right now, Sarah needed me here, so that was where I stayed.

  SARAH

  I sobbed on Brandt so long I gave myself a headache. My limbs ached and my eyes were nearly swollen shut when I returned to the land of the living and rolled my face from his chest to look into his concerned blue eyes.

  “Jesus,” he murmured, cupping my cheek. “Can you even see?”

  I could see him, which was all I really wanted to see, so I was fine. But it must’ve taken me too long to answer because he sat up and started to scoot off the bed.

  “I’m going to get you a warm, wet rag.”

  I felt too weak and hollowed out to argue with him, so I just stayed there, exhausted and drained on the bed, my hair fluttering in my face when I shifted to rest my aching head on a pillow.

  When Brandt returned, he sat next to me and carefully parted the tangled mess of hair to see my face. “You still in there?” he asked in an amused voice.

  I huffed. “No.” I was just a vacant shell of misery.

  But then beautiful blue eyes met mine, crinkling in the corners with a soft smile. “Found you.”

  He pressed a folded washcloth to my skin. I sucked in a breath from the delicious sting of soothing warmth. Grabbing his wrist that was holding the rag to my face, I held on to him for dear life. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  He sighed. “You apologize to me again, and I really will tickle you until you pee. None of this was your fault.”

  With a sniff, I shook my head. “Then why do I feel like such an idiot? I mean, how naive does a girl have to be to think she was going on a real date when the guy was only with her to win a bet? I hate to break it to you, but I’m the only person I’ve ever heard of this happening to.”

  The cloth was ripped off my face so Brandt could give me the full intensity of his scowl. “You are not an idiot, naive or otherwise. When a fucking prick bastard deceives you and tries to use you the way this one did, that’s on him. Not you. And you actually caught him before he did anything, so honestly, I’m impressed with just how smart you are.”

  I cracked off a sharp laugh. “Smart? Yeah, right. That’s funny. I was so fucking smart I asked Reese for advice about getting my first kiss while I was getting ready for this joke of a date. I actually wanted one, too. I mean, I seriously thought...” Squeezing my eyes closed, I bowed my head. “I just...I feel so stupid.”

  “Will you stop saying that? You are not stupid. That dickhead is a bastard. End of discussion.”

  But my tears were returning, and I couldn’t seem to quell them. Brandt sighed and rubbed a spot on the center of his forehead. Then he growled out a sound of irritation. I knew it was because he hated it when I cried. It always filled him with a helpless kind of frustration.

  Finally, he muttered, “As for your first kiss...here.”

  Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to mine.

  Totally unprepared, I sat there, stunned, gawking at him.

  “Close your eyes,” he said against my mouth, amusement lacing his tone.

  When he spoke, his lips were dry but soft as they rasped against mine. Heat coiled in the base of my stomach, and I instantly slapped my eyelashes together.

  He rumbled out a sound of appreciation. “Now kiss me back.”

  I had no idea what that meant, so I puckered my mouth as I did when I kissed my niece’s and nephew’s cheeks, then I made the kissy sound before pulling away.

  Brandt laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with delighted humor. Realizing the kissy sound was probably totally unnecessary, I began to blush in hot humiliation, but he said, “Again,” and pressed his mouth back to mine.

  This time, my eyes closed automatically and my head tilted to accommodate him. His lips brushed across mine, and my nipples tingled inside my bra.

  I shifted closer, as scared as I was intrigued by the sensation. Brandt cupped my cheek in one palm, and his tongue gently nudged the seam of my lips. I opened for him more on instinct than rationally telling myself to do so. It was as if my body took over and brain shut down, because the last thought I remembered having was that I didn’t want to be a dead fish to him right before his tongue touched mine, and suddenly I was sliding mine across his and investigating the feel.

  My breasts pulsed again, and the sensation between my legs matched them with the same thrumming need. I caught the front of his shirt and fisted it between my fingers as he moved h
is head, slanting to get more of me.

  I whimpered, and he echoed the sound with a throatier groan.

  As our tongues knotted together, he rolled me onto my back and slid partially on top of me, threading his fingers up my cheek and into my hair before grasping and encouraging my head to tilt where he wanted it to go.

  My entire body throbbed, burning for more. Letting go of his shirt, I planted my hands in his hair, my fingers delighting in the silky softness. He shifted restlessly, sliding a little further on top of me, and broke from my mouth to kiss his way along my jaw. I gasped for air and gaped up at the ceiling above me while his lips traced my ear before his tongue flicked out to tease the lobe.

  I let go of his hair to curl my hand under his arm and clutch the muscles in his back. Brandt followed my lead by skimming his own fingers from my hair, down the side of my neck before clutching my ribcage so his thumb grazed the side of my breast.

  Arching up at the contact, I dug my nails into his back and gasped.

  His mouth returned to mine. This time, our tongues were eager and needy, dueling for more. While they attacked each other, his hand shifted, moving farther up the side of my breast. I squirmed, aching to feel his fingers cover the hard, pebbled peaks when a small muffled voice on the other side of my bedroom wall wailed, “Mama.”

  “Shit!” Brandt hissed, yanking himself off me and rolling until he was lying on his back beside me and sucking in air. “Holy shit.”

  In the hallway, footsteps shuffled past my bedroom door as Reese went to check on whichever kiddo had called for her.

  Next to me, my best friend set the back of his wrist against his forehead as he struggled for breath. Oxygen chugged like crazy through my lungs as I tilted my head to the side to see him.

  He looked...shell-shocked. His cheeks were high in color and his eyes were glazed as he dropped his hand from his face so he could turn to look back. Then he licked his lips and swallowed noisily. “So, yeah. There you go. First kiss.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling so brain-dead I wasn’t sure what else to say except wow. Like really...wow. “Is it always so—” I broke off suddenly, realizing I was actually asking that aloud.