Page 107 of Shamed
“And what are you, Mase?”
“My father’s son.”
A soft sigh leaves her as she looks down at my hands, still shaking her head. Her gentle fingers brush over the red rings around my wrists. This is the first time they’ve left marks like that.
“Did it feel wrong for you tonight?” she asks.
Goosebumps trail up my arm from her light touch. “It felt wrong to want you as much as I did,” I answer honestly. “But it also felt so fucking right. I wanted you to feel good. I wanted to help you overcome your fears.”
“And you did. All you’ve done since you came into my life is help me, Mase. I’m sorry I didn’t see that it was hurting you tonight.”
“Youdidn’t hurt me.” She needs to understand that she didn’t do anything wrong. “Apart from you, I’ve only been with the one woman I paid. I never allowed myself to entertain any thoughts of women like that. Never allowed anyone to get close like I did with you. Never kissed anyone. Never touched anyone. Never wanted anyone as much as I want you. And losing even a bit of control like I did tonight fucking scared me.”
My eyes drop to her pink, bow-shaped lips that lured me in for a taste.
I pull my hands free of hers, feeling the need to move away from her.
Touching her led to more.
“How can you stand to be so close to me after what I’ve told you?”
Ican barely stand to be in my own skin.
I spent years as a teenager running away from myself, only for my past to catch me in other ways, like when Jacob was arrested.
Jayne lifts a slightly shaky hand to my cheek. The action makes me both want to lean into it and move out of reach. “Because I don’t think you’re the evil person you believe yourself to be.”
“You should.”
“No.”
Her warm fingers glide over my chilled skin, trailing from my jaw to my neck, before she locks eyes with me again. Despite the tears there, she looks determined, stronger than she has looked since I met her again in the club. This is the real woman under the scars, who’s been making appearances these past couple of weeks.
“I’m no therapist, but I’ve done my research on sexual trauma. A lot of it, actually. And while our circumstances are quite different, I do believe you’ve experienced trauma.” My brows dip, but she keeps going. “One thing I learned is that we all process our experiences differently.” She breathes in deeply. “Do I think you’re a sexual predator? No. But maybe you developed a sort of rape kinkso—”
I yank my head back at that, my heart pounding and stomach turning. “Arape kink?”
Jayne takes a step back, sensing my need to fucking bolt. “It’s more common than you think and nothing to be ashamed of. It’s often a way for someone to rewrite what happened to them and regain their sense of control. And maybe, in your case, doing it rough is a way you can experience it in a controlled way, so you know you’re nothing like him.”
I huff through my nose and shake my head. She’swrong.
And even if she weren’t, it makes me a pretty sick fuck to develop that after where I came from. I’m a sick fuck either way, I guess.
“I could be completely wrong on that, and maybe you just like rough sex, which plenty of people do, by the way. But Mase, I don’t think you’re bad. Plus, I’ve been living with you for weeks now, and you’ve never once made me feel uncomfortable.”
“Look, you’ve barely had time to think clearly. But once you do . . .”You’ll avoid me just like everyone else who knows what I am.I stalk to the door and grip the frame, lowering my head before looking at her over my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have touched you without you knowing the truth.”
A sad look fills her eyes, and now she’s the one to look away. Maybe she’s finally getting it.
I never deserved her.
Someone like me never could.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jennifer
Of all the possibilities I could have imagined, of all the options or reasons I considered for Mase being such a solitary man—for him not having friends, for him dedicating most of his life to helping women, for him being single—the fact that he might be the result of his mother’s sexual assault was not oneof them.
