What He Left Behind(46)

My stomach turns. “Punishment?”

“Yeah.” Michael’s lips twist.

I don’t push. Something tells me I won’t have to.

Michael draws a slow, deep breath. “One night, we were arguing about something—I don’t remember what—and he backhanded me.”

I hold Michael tighter. Jesus Christ.

He goes on, “It wasn’t the first time, and it definitely wasn’t the last, but that night, my tooth caught the inside of my cheek. It was one of those cuts that just bled everywhere. Not a deep one or one that needed medical attention, but…you know what I mean.”

I nod, tamping down the nausea in my throat.

“Anyway, it finally stopped. And we finally calmed down.” Michael’s eyes grow distant, but he squeezes my hand, as if he’s letting himself go back to that place as long as he’s got an anchor in this one. I squeeze back. With a subtle shudder, he continues. “He was starting to sober up too, so he decided he wanted to take things into the bedroom to”—he made air quotes with his other hand—“put the fight behind us. One thing led to another, and I was…” He gulps, and shifts as if he’s trying not to shudder again. “On my knees. Which is where I always ended up when we were making up.”

He runs his tongue alongside his teeth, as if he’s searching the inside of his cheek for a phantom cut. I cringe at the idea of sucking cock like that.

Michael clears his throat. “He got a little rough, and I felt the cut come open again, but he wouldn’t stop and wouldn’t let me stop until after he came.”

My stomach lurches. “Fucking bastard.”

“Yeah. So of course, my mouth was bleeding, which meant there was blood on him.” Michael rolls his eyes. “He freaked the f*ck out.”

“Even though he was the one who cut your mouth and wouldn’t stop.”

“Yep. It was actually kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“A—what?”

“He was kind of a germaphobe, and even though we’d both been tested a million times over, he was absolutely certain we both needed to be tested right f*cking now for HIV.” He laughs bitterly. “Like he thought the virus would spontaneously manifest now that he’d come in contact with my blood.”

I arch my eyebrow. “And that was a blessing, how?”

“Because he wouldn’t touch me until the tests came back.” Michael closes his eyes and scrubs his hand over his face. “The first few days, I felt horrible. Rejected, abandoned. But the longer it went on, the more I realized my body didn’t hurt anymore, and I was sleeping better because I didn’t have to worry about waking up to…” He pauses, then shudders. “Anyway. I think that was when I realized I needed to get out.”

My mouth has gone completely dry. “How long after that did you leave him?”

Michael stares up at the ceiling, and his voice is hollow as he whispers, “Two years.”

“Holy shit.”

He exhales. “That incident wasn’t an isolated one, let’s put it that way. He f*cked up my jaw a few times. And my gag reflex.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he says, “He took it personally once when I said I needed two or three weeks before I could go down on him again. He decided that wasn’t acceptable, and, well, didn’t give me much choice.” Michael lowers his hand and meets my eyes. “Apparently having your wisdom teeth out isn’t a good enough excuse.”

I’m surprised my mouth doesn’t literally hurt just hearing that. “I think that would put me off blowjobs for the rest of my life too.”

Michael’s lips tighten, and he nods. “Lucky for me, the blood put him off that time too. But damn.” He shakes his head.

“I can’t even imagine.”

“You don’t want to.” He inhales deeply through his nose, then lets it out slowly. “It wasn’t that horrible all the time. Honestly, we had good sex more often than not. But if he got drunk, or if he got pissed at me for something, all bets were off.” He closes his eyes. “And here we are.”

I slide my hand up his arm to his shoulder. “And you’ve come a long way. There’s no way in hell someone’s going to do that to you again.”

“He won’t get away with five f*cking years of it, anyway.”

“He does it once,” I growl, “they’ll never find the body.”

He meets my eyes, and smiles. “If it happens again, I’ll definitely take you up on that this time.” Then he scowls. “So, you can see why blowjobs are such an issue.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” I kiss the top of his shoulder. “Question is, how do we get you past that?”

Michael sighs. “Fuck if I know. Because with this one, there’s two things I need to get over. One, I’m afraid I’m going to get hurt. Physically. Two, I can’t even think about doing it without feeling like I’m being punished or degraded. Even when I know that’s not the case.”

“I can see why.” I gently draw him into my arms, rolling onto my back so he can rest his head on my shoulder. As we settle, I stroke his hair. “Give it time. It took time to get to where you are tonight, but you made it. You’ll get past this, and you’ll be able to be with other guys.” I kiss his forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere until you do.”