“Can you please answer me first? Because I’m not buying that a gorgeous guy like you would be pining away for a best friend for all these years…” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Unless the best friend was also a lover. And if so, why hide that fact from me? I know you weren’t a virgin when we met.”
Two spots of red rose on Press’s cheeks. He shifted in his seat and cut his gaze from my face to his hands, still clutching the neck of the bottle. “Because I’m an idiot. I-I didn’t know you that first night, so I thought up something fast I hoped would satisfy you. But then…when we got closer…I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to say nothing.”
“Omission can be as much of a lie as speaking it. That’s basic first-year law school stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to hurt you. It was about me at that point.”
“And now?” I hated to keep pushing, but perversely, I wanted to know why he’d kept it from me. “Is it still about you?”
His eyes lifted to mine, and I regretted the torment in them. “No. It isn’t.”
“Tell me about him.”
Press’s face shuttered. “Why does it matter? It was six years ago.”
“Are you still in love with him?” My heart thumped hard, painfully.
“No.” The answer came sharp and gratifyingly swift. “But he was the first man I had sex with, and he became my everything. So I’ll always remember him for that. Since joining the group, I’m coming to grips with the reality that I wasn’t ever really in love with him, or him with me. We didn’t know each other well enough. I was blinded by how much he said he needed and wanted me. At the time, it was a dream—my dream—to be desired like that. I was young and lonely, and he was a little older, and we filled a need for each other. Our group has opened my eyes and forced me to see some ugly truths. It’s hard enough to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else.”
“And he was killed in a car accident? That was true?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “That was true.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been horrible.”
“It was. But I let it take over my life to the point where all I’d do every night was sit and think about him. I haven’t been with anyone else. Until you.”
The edges of his full mouth drooped, jolting my heart painfully. Why did it feel like I was bullying him when all I wanted was the whole story? Press might be only a few years younger, but he seemed so innocent. I imagined the older man had taken advantage of him, and because it was his first relationship, naturally it would make him more leery to be with someone else. Angry for Press, I gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was hard.”
He shredded the bottle label with his thumbnail. “Yeah. But I should’ve done it sooner. You’ve told me about your father…and that was much more devastating.”
“Baby, it’s not a contest of who was hurt more. I just want things out in the open for us. I know I feel better about it. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, sure.” He left his chair and came to me. “I know what would make me feel better.”
The throb of desire always simmering beneath the surface when he was near me flared to life, and I forgot about his ex and my father when Press sank to his knees.
“I want you.”
“I can see that. I want you too.”
“Right now. Take off your pants.”
I was usually the bossy one, but his dominant, hard voice was a fucking turn-on. Yet I still held off, and smiled down at him.
“Here? Are you sure?” I trailed my fingers over my thigh, just brushing my crotch, aware Press’s gaze was latched on to the thick bulge behind my zipper.
“I’m sure. Do it. Now.” He placed a hand on my ankle and took off one loafer and sock.
“I don’t know.” I circled my fingers around the waistband of my pants, then down again to my fly. “What if someone peeks through the side door like Ethan did?”
Press slipped off the sock and shoe from my other foot and slid his hand up my calf. His nails ran down my leg in a teasing scratch. “At ten at night?”
My cock filled to bursting, and I stifled a moan. “M-maybe. You never know.”
“So let them watch.”
