by Anthology
Unlike Logan, Brendan’s cock was soft and limp and, as I pulled back, questioning, I saw in his eyes a look of horror. This made no sense to me.
“Don’t I turn you on, Brendan?”
I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Oh, Bree. I—”
“Do you think I’m disgusting?”
“Bree…”
“Talk to me, Brendan.” I searched his eyes. “Don’t you love me?”
“Of course, I love you.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I continued looking him in the eyes, trying to find the answer. Only I knew it deep inside, but I didn’t want to accept it. He wasn’t talking, though, and my mouth was moving faster than my brain. “Are you gay?”
He looked down then, his focus seeming to be on my chin. I knew then that it was all true—that Logan had been right. Brendan was having a hard time accepting it about himself. When his eyes finally met mine again, I could see the denial and expected to hear what he’d been saying to me all along. Instead, he surprised me. “Yes.”
Now…even though Logan had said so and I was starting to see the writing on the wall, his admission left me reeling just the same. Holy shit. This made our entire relationship a lie.
One thing was certain—now that Brendan had admitted the truth, I could no longer be in denial. The first thing I felt was anger—pure, unfiltered total rage—because he’d been hiding this secret from me, seemingly stringing me along. But as I looked in his warm brown eyes, I couldn’t hang on to the fury, because I realized he’d even been hiding the truth from himself.
And how could I stay angry with him? Brendan was still the same sweet, caring guy he’d always been—and now I realized that maybe he really did love me, just not in the way I’d always hoped. My voice was barely audible when I asked, “How long have you known?”
Brendan frowned and all but fell back on his bed. I bent over and picked up my shirt, pulling it over my head. As I grabbed my jeans and put them back on, he answered. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve somehow always known but…everyone convinces you that you’re a ‘little ladykiller’ and tells you how all the girls will be fighting over you as you grow older. I just always felt like I was supposed to like girls. But I guess…”
I sat down next to him and put my hand on his thigh. “You knew somewhere in the back of your mind?”
“Yeah.”
We were silent for several long moments before I finally let out a long, slow sigh. I looked at him and said, “I love you, Brendan, and I want you to know I accept you just the way you are.”
His eyes were clouded with confusion. “I love you, too, Bree…but what now?”
I swallowed and forced a small smile. “It’s clear as day to me. If you’re gay, you shouldn’t be with me. You should be with guys. Or…a guy, I mean.”
“Yeah…but I don’t know how to—”
“You just gotta do it. Like the first girl you ever asked out. How’d you do that?” He started to shrug. “Maybe I could help you, Bren.”
His mouth screwed up in a wry half-grin. “I’m in football. We’re not allowed to be gay.”
“That sounds like bullshit.”
Brendan shook his head. “You don’t know the coach and guys.” I didn’t say it out loud, but I wondered if that was part of why he’d tried to maintain a relationship with me for so long. “Maybe I should quit the team.”
“No way. Your scholarship is based on football, isn’t it? And you love it.”
It was as if he hadn’t heard a word I said. “All the gay guys I know are in drama.”
“That’s just a stereotype.”
“Yeah, Bree, it’s a stereotype, but…do you know all the guys in the drama department?”
It wasn’t like we went to a school with thousands of kids. We were in a small town where most of us knew each other. My eyebrows rose up my forehead. “Yeah.”
Brendan’s brows mirrored mine and he looked serious until he grinned. “Maybe I could do both.”
“Theater and football?”
“Yeah, why not?” He seemed to like the idea. I should have been in shock at how quickly my boyfriend was embracing becoming fully gay, but he was also my friend—and this somehow felt like a natural decision. “And, honestly, Kenneth Masterson has had a crush on me for the longest time.”
Oh. Kenneth was undeniably the best actor in our theater troupe and the guy was the main reason why people loved the plays put on at the high school.
He also bordered on being flamboyant…so if Brendan was hinting that he liked the idea of spending time with and being worshipped by Kenneth, I was beginning to wonder how much he’d already thought about this future.
Suddenly, the fact that Brendan hadn’t wanted me to go to college with him made more sense—it would be a time in his life where he could completely reinvent himself, away from the watchful eyes of our town. I understood now.
“Then maybe you should go for it. I think Kenneth would be quite a catch.”
We talked a little longer and I kept a smile on my face the whole time, but underneath it all, I was completely wrecked. My entire world was falling apart in front of my eyes—not just the here and now but my future…all my dreams were going up in smoke.
What the hell was I going to do now?
CHAPTER TWELVE
For so many reasons, I couldn’t sleep that night. If I wasn’t busy reliving random moments of the past, viewing them through this new lens, I was instead pondering my future, trying to figure out what it would be like without Brendan, the guy I’d at one time thought was the love of my life. As the rising sun lightened my bedroom the following morning, I felt grateful that it was Sunday. There was no way I could have made it through school after no sleep.
The past was history and I simply had to find a way to let it go, to not be angry with myself for having missed what others might have found obvious. Why would I have even suspected Brendan to be gay? There was no reason to, and, frankly, the only other person in my life I’d ever doubted before was my mother—and that was due to experience. Your mother can only let you down so many times before you lose your trust.
Letting Brendan go for his sake was easy enough. Because I loved him, I wanted what was best for him. I wanted him to be happy. But, when I thought of that loss in terms of my wants, needs, and expectations, I felt a little betrayed and empty. We’d planned (well, I more than he) our lives together. But now I could see that our entire relationship was a lie—and, honestly, it was better to find out now rather than later.
As the days went on, I could sense a slight lifting of the cloud even though I continued to feel the loss. Brendan and I still spent a lot of time together and planned to be friends no matter what—but it was different now. And his change seemed crazy. It was like Brendan had been tied up and was now loosened for the first time, and he was embracing that freedom. I saw him talking to all kinds of boys he’d never given two moments to before. And rather than behaving like the reserved, almost emotionless football player I’d grown to love, he was allowing himself to show more expression.
He seemed liberated.
Part of me deep down—the slutty part of me that still thought of Logan and our time together—thought this was for the best, but the rest of me felt like I’d lost my best friend. Yes, Chelsea was still around but it wasn’t quite the same.
Something I’d learned about myself over the years, though, was that I was strong. Whatever came my way, I could deal with it. And this was no different. I’d figure out a way to get past this, just like I always did.
And, as it often did, inspiration struck. Brendan deciding to embrace who he really was encouraged me to do the same. I knew I liked sex and wanted it—and now I was free to pursue that passion.
Game on.
A week later, the football team had another away game, this one even farther away than the last one—which meant Brendan would get home even later than the last time. So I decided it might be a good opportunity for me to talk to
Logan…to get everything out in the open.
Brendan’s decision to accept himself as gay and, consequently, to declare the two of us to be friends only opened the door for me to pursue his father for real—but I wasn’t sure I wanted that. If we talked, we could figure out for sure what we both wanted. All I knew for certain was that I didn’t like the way I’d ended it, especially considering Logan was right about his son after all.
My biggest fear was that I wanted him only because he made my pussy feel like it never had before—and I didn’t want to choose to be with a man simply because he could give me pleasure.
I wanted more—I just didn’t know what yet.
All these thoughts were swirling inside my brain when I rang the doorbell to the Brown house before I’d even processed that I was doing it.
When Logan opened the door, he looked to me like a tall, cool glass of water might appear to a man who’d just trekked through the desert. He was as handsome as ever. His dark hair was combed back like always but a few stray tendrils fell over his forehead, and his blue eyes glinted at me. He was either angry that I was there or glad I’d appeared unexpectedly—but I couldn’t tell which.
“Briana…what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Even though he backed up and held the door open for me, he said, “I thought you’d already said all you wanted to.”
As the door closed, the truth hit me. I needed this man—maybe not tomorrow, maybe not forever, but for this moment, there was nothing more I required. I felt my hands trembling, a shakiness quivering in my belly, and I just let the words tumble out unfettered. “I…I want to feel your tongue on me again.”
My cheeks burned as I realized I’d betrayed myself, given away that I had become a horny slut unable to control myself—but I saw the understanding register in his eyes and I knew that not only was he not judging me for my brazenness but he also wasn’t going to turn me away.
Actually, it was more than that. Like two stars drawn into each other’s orbit, we were pulled toward one another. I hadn’t fully registered that I was in his arms and responding to his lips on mine by the time my body was already lit up from head to toe, expectant, tingling, taut.
His fingers were in my hair, his tongue in my mouth, and my arms were wrapped around his hard body as my heart thudded in my chest. I couldn’t believe how the blood rushed through my veins, responding to his taste and touch. My nostrils filled with the smell of him and his spicy cologne, and it was then that I felt how wet my panties had grown.
But if I’d thought I was turned on, it was just the beginning. When he began kissing my neck, licking and nipping at it as if my flesh was succulent, I felt an uncontrollable need to be filled with him. I could hear my breathing—deep and desperate—as my nails dug into his back through the fabric of his shirt.
I’d missed him.
So when he began pulling up my blouse, I helped him get it over my head, and his lips began assaulting the rise of my breasts, pushed together by my bra. And the sensations it caused were nice—really nice—but I wanted him inside me. I bit my lip to keep my mouth closed but decided to send the same message to him by getting his clothes off, too. I ran my fingers up his back so that his shirt moved up. Within seconds, it was off and I was touching his abs with my bare fingers, getting closer to his waistband.
Not to be outdone, Logan began unbuttoning my shorts while kissing me. Yes, there…that was where his touch was really needed. His mouth was on my neck again and I let out a sigh as I anticipated what moves he’d make next. I couldn’t help but press my pelvis forward and, fortunately, I had a man who could read my body signals. Achingly, he pulled my panties forward with a finger before another finger began sliding down my slit.
“Ohhhhhh,” I cooed, barely recognizing the sounds of my voice as he touched my clit.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he breathed in my ear. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He began swirling his finger in a circular motion as he wedged his knee in between my legs. “I turn you on that much?”
I couldn’t help but whisper the truth. “Yes.”
“You do that to me, too, baby.” I could barely hear him anymore as my mind focused on that one spot on my body, the one that was beginning to feel like it was ready to lose it. And it was. I already knew the sensation, that one of my brain climbing towards a peak, of my body preparing to experience ultimate pleasure. By then, I was panting, sounding like a dog in my own ears. “I would love to make you come five times a day.”
I didn’t know if it was that thought or just his hot breath in my ear that pushed me over the edge, but I felt my legs clenching against his as the already familiar waves of delight cascaded over me, and I began moaning almost as if in pain. Everything I knew flew out of my head as though I had amnesia, and the only thing that mattered now was Logan, his finger, and my clit.
As my breathing calmed down and my heart tried to slow its beating in my chest, Logan relaxed his finger. “Are you ready for me?”
“Oh, God, yes. I want you inside me.”
His eyes grew wide and I knew I’d said the exact right thing. In mere seconds, he had his pants down just enough, his cock out, and he’d lifted me up, holding me under the ass, my legs wrapped around his back. He wasn’t even holding me up against the wall and I wondered if that had to be uncomfortable for him, but soon I was enjoying another wave of bliss as his cock rammed areas inside me I’d never felt before.
“Oh, Logan!” I yelled before the sounds coming out of my mouth became unintelligible and, soon, he was slowing down as he came with me.
We stood there for a minute or so as he seemed to get his bearings before he set me down on my own two feet. I quivered as his cock withdrew from me and I got ready to pick up my clothes, especially because I could feel his cum dripping down the inside of my thighs. Logan shook his head. “No, don’t cover up your beauty.” His gave me the sweetest kiss before taking my hand and leading me into the living room where we lay in each other’s arms on his couch.
I felt a little sleepy but more comforted and loved than I had in weeks. I never would have guessed until that moment how much I truly cared for this man. My head resting on his chest, I swirled my fingers on his other pec. “You were right about Brendan.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I tried to warn you.”
“I know.” After a few minutes, I said, “I don’t know what this is between you and me…or why I feel like I need you.”
He responded by smoothing my hair with his hand—and that was enough for now.
But, even though I accepted Brendan and loved him for who he was, I didn’t want him to catch me naked in the arms of his dad. I sat up. “I think I need to leave now.”
“So soon?”
“Do you know when Brendan’s going to be home?”
“No.”
“Then yes. Now. I don’t want to fall asleep and wake up to Brendan walking in the door.” I stood up and, even though my legs felt weak, walked through the living room to the foyer where Logan and I had impulsively given in to our passions.
I felt no regrets.
I was pulling up my panties when Logan appeared beside me and began dressing as well. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
I didn’t know why my body felt warmer all of a sudden or why something like that made me feel loved—but it did. And that light happy feeling stayed with me all the way home.
When Logan stopped in front of my house, he parked at the curb and turned the headlights off before touching my cheek with his fingers. That was all I needed to respond, meeting his mouth with mine. When the kiss ended, he rubbed his thumb on my cheek, and I could see his eyes, thanks to the lights on the dash. It was so clear to me now: Brendan had never looked at me that way.
As strange as it was, this was real.
This was my reality.
I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, but I accepted today for what it was.
“I’d love to see you again,
Briana…whenever you’re ready.”
One more kiss and I said I’d talk to him soon. I got out of the car and waved goodbye, feeling light and happy, but as I turned, I noticed lights on in the house—and my mother’s face peeking from behind the living room curtains.
Ugh. The last thing I wanted to deal with.
She wasn’t supposed to be here, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Mom came and went when she felt like it, and there was no predicting when she’d be around—even if she said she’d be here for this or that. Before I even entered the front door, I decided to walk straight to my room, avoiding whatever drama my mom brought with her this time.
My mother had other plans, though. When I walked in, she said, “I know it’s Friday, but I expected you home tonight.”
“Yeah, so?”
Much as I tried, I couldn’t shove past her. “You should leave a note if you’re not going to be here.”
“Like you care.”
Her jaw tightened. “I do, Bree. I’ve just had a lot going on.”
“Why are you even here? Did Greg kick you out again?” Mom’s left eyelid twitched. “He did.” I used that opportunity—catching her off guard—to move past her. “I’m going to my room.”
“Hold on,” she said to my back. “Not so fast.” The tone of her voice actually sounded authoritative—like the mom I used to know—and it made me stop in my tracks, even if only for a moment. “Why was Brendan’s dad dropping you off?”
That was weird. I didn’t think my mom even remembered Brendan, much less knew what vehicle his dad drove. Why had she even been watching me? I knew she didn’t give a shit.
Had I entered another reality?
Still…she was my mom, and I felt the need to act innocent, deflecting attention from what had really happened. “Because I was at their house.” And I tried to walk away, but she wasn’t having it. She grabbed my arm and looked me in the eye.
“I thought the Bulldogs were at an away game tonight. Aren’t they?”
Holy shit. How the hell did my mom even know this stuff when I was pretty sure she didn’t care? And why, after all this time, was she paying attention to me and what I was doing when she hadn’t in years? I was angry and ready to flip her off, but I instead chose to just clamp my lips together and cross my arms. I could feel my jaw jutting out and I hoped mom got the hint that I was in no mood to talk.
