Sweet Torment: A Novella

by Georgia Cates

  I take a deep breath before turning the doorknob. This is Bram. You’ve known him your entire life. Don’t be nervous. He knows you inside and out. He’ll pick up on it.

  The boys are in the kitchen stuffing their faces. No surprise there. They invade the pantry every time they come home from school.

  “No one touches my Greek yogurt.” Except Bram. He can have anything of mine he wants. That includes me.

  “Are you kidding, sis? You seriously think one of us would eat that shit?”

  “It’s good, especially with granola and a few dark chocolate chips.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” Owen goes to the pantry door and stares inside as though food is going to magically appear. “I hope Mom goes to the grocery store after work. There ain’t shit in here to eat.”

  “Did she know you were coming home?” I sure didn’t.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then don’t worry about it. She’ll make sure you get everything you want to eat.” Such a mama’s boy.

  I glance in Bram’s direction. He’s staring at the label on a bottle of water. Making it a point not to look at me. No surprise there.

  “Why did you come home?” If Owen doesn’t have a baseball game, he has practice. Always.

  “Had to come back for Hallie and Jacob’s wedding tomorrow. Rehearsal’s tonight.”

  “Right. Forgot about that.” Hearing him say Jacob’s name reminds me of my new tutor. “Hey, do you remember Jacob Rial? I think he’s your age.”

  “Yeah. Why are you asking? Did you see that asshole’s mugshot on the six o’clock news or something?”

  What’s that supposed to mean? “No. I’m having problems in calculus. My teacher suggested I hire him to tutor me.”

  “You can forget that shit right now. That fucker isn’t tutoring you in math or anything else.”

  Whoa. “Okay, Owen. Calm down.”

  “It would be better for you to flunk than be alone with that guy.” River’s opinion of Jacob Rial isn’t any better.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “That asshole has a nasty little habit of getting girls drunk and then fucking them after they pass out. He did it twice that we know of when we were in high school. Got away with it both times because the girls couldn’t remember what happened. That’s why you won’t be hiring him as a tutor.”

  My high hopes sink. “Then what am I supposed to do about getting help in calculus? I asked my teacher for help but he told me he doesn’t tutor his own students.”

  Owen grasps the back of Bram’s neck and squeezes. “There’s a math genius sitting right here. He can tutor you.”

  Bram’s head jolts upward, his jaw fixed, with eyes narrowed on my brother. There’s only one way to interpret what that expression means.

  “He has a lot going on with his new job. Plus, it’s tax season. I’m sure he’s tied up and doesn’t have time to mess with me.”

  “How ‘bout it, Bram? Can you make time to tutor Claud or does she have to turn to rapist Rial for help?”

  Bram’s reply is instant. “No way she’s going anywhere near that piece of shit.”

  He may feel inclined to keep me safe, but I doubt he wants to be alone with me again. His reaction to our last encounter told me everything I needed to know. “I’ll be okay. I just need to study harder.”

  “Can’t chance it, Claud. Mom and Dad are counting on your getting a scholarship.”

  Mom and Dad haven’t said anything, but I know money has been tight since Dad’s heart attack. I’m certain they had to dip into savings to pay the deductibles on the hospital bills. “I know, Owen. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “When is your next test, sis?”

  “Friday.”

  “Can you make time to help Claud this week?” I hate seeing Owen put Bram in this awkward situation.

  Bram looks at me and our eyes meet for the first time since that night more than two months ago. What kind of thoughts are going on behind those hazel eyes? “Don’t worry about your grade. You’ll get an A when I’m finished tutoring you.”

  My mind is mush. I can’t form words to respond.

  “Can you come to my apartment Sunday?”

  His apartment? He doesn’t live with his parents anymore? “Sure. What time?”

  “Three o’clock okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

  I retreat to my room, close the door, and fall face down on the bed, squealing into the pillow. Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m going to be alone with him. And I’m going to make the most of it.

  He will be mine.

  4

  Claudia Bliss

  I check my appearance in the mirror for the tenth time before getting out of my car. Calm down or he’ll think you’re being weird. For him, this is just a tutoring session. He wants to help you with your grade so you’ll get a scholarship. Ease Mom and Dad’s burden.

  I apply a fresh coat of lip gloss and smack my lips together so they appear soft and hydrated. An invitation to be kissed.

  My heart gallops as I approach the front door of Bram’s apartment. We’re going to be alone behind closed doors. I’ve spent the last two days fantasizing about everything that could happen. Our hands accidentally brush. Our eyes lock. He realizes how much he really wants me.

  We accidentally fall into bed together.

  I wish I were brave enough to make some kind of bold move. Have a plan of action to make him want me. Take advantage of this time alone. But I already know I’ll probably chicken out after what happened last time.

  I was feeling so optimistic, but now my confidence level is a negative twelve.

  My mouth waters when Bram opens the door and I see him in basketball shorts and an old T-shirt with the sleeves and sides cut out. I’ve seen him play basketball in this outfit, or one like it, no less than a thousand times. And he never fails to look scorching hot.

  I can see his muscular chest and fit stomach through the cutouts of his shirt. And that ass. I can make out the exact shape of it in those clingy shorts. I can’t help myself from admiring it as he leads me through his apartment to the dining table in his kitchen.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Moved in about a month ago. Still settling in.”

  “No one told me you had moved out of your parents’ house.” It hurt my heart when I realized Bram had made such an important change in his life and I knew nothing about it. I’ve always been privy to knowing everything about him and it suddenly feels as though that’s been taken away from me. I don’t like it at all.

  “You live with your parents for your entire life, and then you move away for college and get a taste of independence. It’s very difficult to come home and return to living under their rules and expectations. As much as I love my parents, I quickly realized I couldn’t live with them. I need my privacy.”

  Privacy. I wonder if that’s code for needing a place to bring women so he can get laid. “You like living here?”

  He shrugs. “It’s okay for the time being.”

  I hope that doesn’t mean he’s planning to leave Lynchburg. “You don’t see yourself staying here long-term?”

  “Only as long as it takes to save a good down payment for a house.”

  I was talking about staying in Lynchburg—not the apartment—but I’m thrilled to hear him say he has no plans to move away.

  Bram is the mature one out of the three boys. Always sensible with money, dependable with responsibilities, accountable for his actions. Owen and River could stand to take a lesson or two from him.

  “I know it needs work.”

  The walls are white and bare. There’s no kind of style or decor. “It’s very bachelor pad-ish.”

  “I have no idea how to decorate. I don’t know where to start.”

  He ain’t lying. “I could help you if you want. Give it a woman’s touch.” I’m no interior designer but I’m certain I can do better than this.

  “We’ll see.”<
br />
  We’ll see. That isn’t the response of someone jumping at the opportunity to spend time with me. Sort of like he didn’t jump at the opportunity to tutor me either.

  I hang my backpack on the chair and dig out my textbook and binder. “I’m sorry Owen roped you into doing this. I know you have much better things to do than teach me calculus.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  I place my textbook and binder on the table. I go completely still and look into Bram’s eyes. “Please don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Lie. Not to me, Duke. That’s not who we are.” I say the words as though I have confidence in who we are but that’s not true. I no longer have a clue where my relationship with him stands.

  “It’s not a lie. I want you to do well so you can get as many scholarships as possible. Then go to college to pursue your dream and become a huge success. I want the best for you and I’m happy to help any way I can.”

  I know he wants me to do well but I in no way believe he’s stoked about spending this time alone with me. “Regardless of the way you feel about doing this, I appreciate your help.”

  “I know you do.”

  I take out my calculus folder. “You better not laugh at my notes.”

  He smiles as he looks over what I’ve written. “Hope you haven’t chosen a career where calculus is required.”

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to myself.”

  “Decided on your major yet?”

  “No. It’s hard to make that kind of choice when all you really care about is being a photographer.”

  “If you want to be a photographer, be a photographer.”

  I wish it were that easy. “Mom and Dad say the business is too saturated in Lynchburg for me to have success here. They’re strongly encouraging me to go into education because it’s a stable income.”

  I come from a family of educators. Mom teaches second grade. Dad teaches history and coaches high school baseball. Everything is already set in motion for Owen. Dad is retiring in May and Owen is going to roll right into his position in August.

  I’m the odd one of the family. I have zero interest in a career that involves teaching.

  “What do you think about taking your parents’ advice?”

  “I think I will be miserable if I go into education. I also think spending the next four years at college will be a waste of time and money when my career path doesn’t require it. But I’m sure you can imagine how well that went over when I told Mrs. and Coach Bliss that I didn’t think I needed to continue my education.”

  “Your plan isn’t their plan, so they believe it’s a terrible idea.”

  “Exactly, but I’m not stupid. I know I need to keep my options open until I decide for sure. That’s why I’m working so hard to pull up my calculus grade.”

  I’m not sure how deep the dent was when my parents were forced to take money out of their savings. That’s why it’s so important I get scholarships. I want them to keep what they set aside for my education to replenish what they spent on out-of-pocket expenses.

  “Scholarships always come in handy, so we’d better get to work on pulling up that grade. Show me what you’re having on your next test.”

  Properties of exponents. Functions and graphs. Variables. Coordinates. Everything Mr. Garrison has to say about those things makes my head spin. But Bram slows the chaos of confusion in my brain. He breaks the equation into smaller pieces that my mind can comprehend.

  “Have I explained this problem so that it makes sense to you?”

  “For the first time ever, it actually does.”

  I’ve always known Bram was smart but hearing him talk about this stuff makes me realize just how intelligent he is. And it’s super sexy.

  He circles the answer to the problem he just went over. “You understand all the steps I took to come up with this answer?”

  “I do.”

  He scribbles a practice problem on a sheet of notebook paper and slides it across the table in front of me. “Want to try this one on your own and see what happens?”

  “Sure.”

  He gets up and goes to the fridge while I work on the problem. “Want a coconut water?”

  I spin around so I can look at him. “Bram Windsor. You do not drink coconut water.”

  “I definitely don’t, but you do.”

  The magnitude of this simple act hits home. “You bought coconut water for me?”

  “Well, it’s your favorite. And I knew you’d be coming over this week.”

  First, he’s paid enough attention to know what my favorite drink is. Second, he went out and bought some to have at his apartment for me. Has he been thinking of me? “I would love some. Thank you.”

  He places a carton in front of me. “Is that stuff any good?”

  “I love it.” I twist the cap and offer him the carton. “Try it. See if you like it.”

  He takes it from my hand and then quickly passes it back after tasting it. “Ugh. I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”

  “It’s not as sweet as what most people expect. You might like the one that comes with pineapple juice in it.”

  “Nah. Coconut and pineapple sounds like a girly cocktail.”

  “And you’re a manly beer drinker.”

  “Damn right, I am.”

  Bram’s choice in alcohol isn’t the only manly thing about him. His voice. His stubbled face. His muscular body. All of it screams masculinity. And it’s terribly difficult to push it out of my mind as I work on the next few calculus problems he assigns me.

  I push my paper toward him when I finish. “All done.”

  “You sound confident.”

  “I am but only because you’re really good at explaining calculus.” Mr. Garrison should take lessons from him on how to teach this stuff.

  Bram checks my work and scribbles A+ at the top of the page. “Excellent job. Think you want to try a few more?”

  I’ve been at Bram’s a while but if doing more math means I get to stay with him longer, I’ll do them all week. “If you have time, I’d like to practice more.”

  “You can do as many problems as you like. I have no plans other than grabbing some takeout for dinner.”

  Why should he get takeout when I’m here? “I can cook something for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind.” I would come over and cook for him every night if he’d let me.

  “You know me, Claud. I’ll never turn down a home-cooked meal.”

  There’s no way I wouldn’t take this opportunity to cook my specialty for him. Especially since they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. “Spaghetti sound okay?”

  “Sounds delicious. You know how much I love spaghetti.”

  I do know. And it’s why I’ve spent the last few months learning how to make the perfect meat sauce. “Let me do three more problems and then we’ll make a grocery run; I know you don’t have the things I’ll need.”

  “Accurate assumption. I have beer and chips. That’s about it.”

  I giggle and roll my eyes. “You need more than that for sustenance.”

  “Beer and chips are bachelor food. And I’m a bachelor.”

  Thank God for that. “We’re getting you some decent food while we’re at the store.”

  “I’ll buy whatever you put in the cart as long as you cook for me.”

  “I need tutoring. You need dinner. We’ll make a trade out.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

  I get to spend more time with Bram. That’s not a good plan.

  It’s a great one.

  5

  Bram Windsor

  I shouldn’t be letting this happen. I shouldn’t be creating additional alone time with Claudia in my apartment. And I definitely shouldn’t be sitting at my dining table staring at her ass while she flutters around my kitchen.

  Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve. I should’ve sent her home as
soon as our tutoring session was over. I could’ve said I already had dinner plans. I would’ve if I were smarter. But I’m not smarter. I’m a dumbass playing with a blazing hot fire. And this flame has a name.

  Claudia Laine Bliss.

  Dear God. The denim shorts she’s wearing are so short that her ass cheeks peek out of the bottom when she bends forward. Which makes me wonder what kind of panties she’s wearing. Boy shorts? I don’t think so. Bikini? Not likely. Cheekies? Maybe. Thong? I’m hopeful.

  Or maybe she isn’t wearing panties at all.

  She has stripped down to the white tank top she was wearing beneath her T-shirt. Says she doesn’t want splattered spaghetti sauce to ruin it. Sounds like a legit reason for taking it off, but damn, I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. I can see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric.

  Fuck me. Those thoughts alone prove I’m looking at her tits and ass.

  “Do you like a little garlic or a lot?”

  “A lot.”

  “Me too.” Claudia brings a spoonful of sauce to her mouth and blows on it. “The secret to a good meat sauce, once you get it seasoned well, is to let it simmer for at least an hour. This needs more time to cook but try it and see if it has enough garlic for you.”

  I open and she spoons the sample into my mouth. Acidic. Tangy. Garlicky. All the right flavors dance the tango with my taste buds. “Delicious.”

  She uses her thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth and then licks the sauce from her finger. “It’ll taste even better in an hour.”

  Holy. Hell. That was hot.

  I could pull Claudia close. Pick her up and set her on the table. Push her legs apart and have my hand inside her shorts in only a matter of seconds. Make her come so hard, she screams my name. She’d let me. I know she would.

  I bet she’s never had an orgasm. At least not a real one. And not one she didn’t give herself. I’m talking about the kind of pleasure that would make her tremble from the inside out and forget her own name.