Page 115 of Not Another Yesterday
“I didn’t mean—”
“I fucking loved it,” I say, somewhat dismayed. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me that I enjoy pain like this.”
It’s still something I’m figuring out about myself—that a little pain mixed in with pleasure actually does it for me. Not too much. Just enough to heighten everything. Still, it feels… off. Like I should be the last person on earth to get off on pain. But I punish my body in the gym almost daily, chase soreness like a badge of honor, run on empty like it’s a competition. So maybe it tracks that getting absolutely fucking feral when Cat scratches the shit out of me feels… right.
She moves her hand to my cheek, brushing a thumb over my bottom lip. My eyes threaten to close with the tenderness of her touch. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she says. “I think a lot of people enjoy a little pain during sex, right?”
She lifts her eyebrows in a way that makes me think her question isn’t purely rhetorical.
“Yeah, but a lot of people didn’t get the life beaten out of them by their mother growing up,” I say. “You’d think I’d forever avoid anything even remotely painful. Turns out it’s a huge fucking turn-on for me.” I make a face. Maybe I need to unpack this with my therapist.Hey Doc, guess what, turns out my mommy issues go way deeper than we originally thought.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re overthinking this. Just allow yourself to enjoy what you enjoy.” She leans over the center console and presses a kiss to my cheek. The soft warmth of her lips makes my chest ache. I missed this. I missedher. Touching her without having to second-guess it. Not being allowed to hold her felt like having one hand cut off.
“What happened between us a few minutes ago, that wasn’t anything like what your mom did to you. I didn’t do it to hurt you.” She pauses, eyes flicking to my chest, cheeks going pink. “It just felt necessary in the moment. I was so, so turned on.” Her voice drops into something breathy, dangerous. If she keeps talking like that, I might have to pull the truck over again.
“And… it turned you on, too, right?” she asks, her voice laced with vulnerability.
I chuckle. “Obviously. You couldn’t tell?” Jesus, it flipped a damn switch. When her nails dug in, all the rational parts of my brain just…poof.I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling. Moving. Needing.
Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink and I swear her whole face follows suit. Her nose, her ears, her forehead. I know she hates it, but I happen to enjoy the crap out of it.
“I could,” she says, nodding. Then, more quietly, “I think… I think I like it a little bit rougher, too.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She blinks at me in surprise. “Really? How?”
I shrug. “Because of the way your body reacts when I go hard. Like,hard.I thought I was hurting you earlier. I almost pulled back, but then I realized you were about to come, so I doubled down. And, fuck,” I groan, shifting slightly behind the steering wheel. “Nothing gets me there faster than watching you lose yourself to me. You’re so fucking hot.”
She sinks back into her seat, smiling with a quiet satisfaction.
“But baby?” I say, drawing her eyes back to me. “You have to promise me something, okay?”
She nods, her lips plump, pink, slightly parted. I want to stare at them, want them wrapped around…Jesus.Focus, Ran!
“If I ever hurt you in a way you don’t want… I mean, like, if I ever lash out at you—if there’s even a hint that I might snap—you walk. You walk away and you don’t look back. You don’t give me another chance. You don’t forgive me. You don’t take me back, okay?”
She searches my eyes for a long moment. I know she understands what I’m asking, what I’m getting at. I’m not talking about rough sex. I’m talking about abuse, the kind of shit my grandfather did to his family, what Adam did to Cat, what my mother did to me.
She nods, slow and serious. “I promise,” she breathes.
I nod once, exhaling deeply.Enough heavy shit for now.
We turn the last bend before the main house comes into view. I can’t help but laugh. We’re half-naked. Soaked. Disheveled. Cat’s hair looks like it’s been through a hurricane and back, and I’ve got claw marks down my chest like a wild animal attacked me. Which, technically, checks out. Immediately, my stupid brain comes up with at least ten different wildcat jokes. But now’s not the time.
I don’t have much hope that we’ll be able to sneak into the house unseen, not with my grandmother’s weird-ass ESP and the fact that it’s just about time for dinner. My grandma is nothing if not punctual. I bet everyone’s already gathering at the dining table. Cat and I better use the next thirty seconds to come up with a solid alibi before we walk into the lion’s den. Or, more accurately… the wildcat den.See what I mean?
Of course, the second Cat and I walk through the door, all conversation cuts out like someone pressed the mute button on a remote. I-don’t-know-how-many sets of eyes flicker to us. Jesus Christ,everyone’shere. Penny’s whole family. Cat’s parents. Thomas and Elias. Even my baby brothers look judgmental.
Miranda’s eyes go wide, her mouth forming anO.My brother lets out a snort he barely manages to turn into a cough, and Shane crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving me an approvinghell yeahnod. Clearly, no one thinks this was remotely accidental.
“What in theworld?” Cat’s dad barks, his voice slicing through the silence. His face contorts like he just bit into something sour. That man hasneverliked me, and walking in soaked and half-naked with his daughter swaddled in a blanket isn’t doing much to give him the warm fuzzies.
“Ronan,” my grandma says, gentler but firm. She takes the dripping pile of clothes from my hands and disappears into the laundry room, returning a moment later with sweatpants and a clean shirt. She shoves them into my arms like she expects an immediate explanation.
This is the part I’ve always hated—when my body thinks I’m about to be punished. My heart’s pounding, my breathing is quick, and my muscles are tight. My grandma would never hurt me, but try convincing my nervous system of that.
I can’t speak. Can’t remember the story we rehearsed in the truck. But Cat can.
