“God, I’ve missed this,” Ana whispered.
“I missed you,” I confessed, the memories of the moment too much to hide my emotions behind. I’d missed her so much, and I needed her to know. I hoped she could hear the regret in my words. When she didn’t respond, I turned to look at her and saw her eyes pinched closed. Her chest rose on a deep breath before she spoke.
“Let’s not talk about that tonight. Let’s just enjoy each other.”
I wanted to pin her to the seat and make her listen to me. Hear my apologies and see my sorrow, make her forgive me. But I didn’t want to push her. I didn’t want the night to end. “Okay.”
I almost swallowed my tongue when she spoke again, asking a question laced with more danger than the apology I wanted to force on her.
“Have you found anyone else? Anyone like us?”
Her whispered words sucked the air from my lungs, and I struggled to formulate a response. I knew exactly what she was asking. And maybe she felt brave in the dark of night. Maybe she felt brave to ask the question in the familiarity of the situation. I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to get closer to her. I wanted to share my secrets again, so maybe she’d share hers.
“No. Not really.” I thought over the past three years. Especially, the one after my dad retired from politics, relieving the pressure of being found out and causing a scandal. I laughed thinking of that year.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just thinking of the year after my dad retired. I felt a freedom I hadn’t before and really looked into . . . that part of myself.”
“How so?”
“I found a sex club.”
“A what?” She jerked up in her seat and gaped at me.
I laughed. “Calm down. It was . . . an interesting experience. And one I found was not for me. It was actually more enlightening than any internet research I could’ve done.”
“How so?” she asked, laying back down.
“Well, I’m not into whips and all the tools that come along with typical BDSM. I’m pretty sure I was a deer in headlights most of my visits, watching the people use the equipment.” I laughed again at how naive I felt walking through the club. “It was a cool place, and I met some interesting people, but not my scene. I’m more into privacy. I’m not into tying someone to a cross and whipping them as much as controlling someone and—” I cut off, feeling that old shame creep back into my chest. Looking over, I took Ana in, and was again reminded that this was Ana. My Ana. I could tell her anything. “And degradation. I liked to see how far someone was willing to go to please me. That was my kink. As well as some others here and there. But not enough to need to join a club.” I didn’t have to look at her to know my words affected her. I could hear her short, choppy breathing and it went straight to my dick. I subtly rearranged my hand over my lap, hoping she wouldn’t notice the boner stretching my jeans. “But it left me afloat again. Back to square one, trying to find someone who I wouldn’t scare away. I guess I just became less ashamed of who I was and ways to work around it.”
I expected her to have a comment about everything I’d just confessed, but she remained mute, staring up at the sky. I hated to ask it, but I needed to know. “What about you, Ana? You ever find anyone?”
She was quiet so long, I didn’t expect her to answer. When she spoke, it was quiet in a painful way and I knew I wasn’t going to like what she was about to say. “I met a guy my sophomore year. He was a senior, really nice guy. We dated for about a year, and I almost moved in with him when he graduated.” She paused and I didn’t comment, instead focusing on relaxing my clenched jaw, preparing for the rest of the story. “I waited a long time to have sex with him. He pushed, but I was scared. What if I didn’t like it? What if it ruined us?” Her sniff punched me in the gut. “It wasn’t great when we had sex. He noticed and I blamed myself. He seemed so concerned, so eager to make it better.”
I had to look away from her when I noticed a tear slip down her temple. Fuck. I should’ve stopped her from talking. I didn’t think I could listen to it.
“I trusted him. So, one night I made him a nice dinner and tried to make it a romantic evening, preparing to tell him. He wanted to please me, so even though I was nervous, I believed him. It umm . . . it didn’t go so well.”