thoughts, he was astounded that she actually seemed to believe that. "Angela if you tied me down and sucked my cock my body would eventually respond, but that wouldn't mean I wanted it to happen." He didn't mean to be so crude, but the fact that this beautiful person believed she encouraged the act of violence infuriated him. Not against her, but against a man so perverted he would fill her mind with such bullshit.
Shocked at his words, and the anger that filled his face, she stepped away from him. "I wouldn't ever do that," the thought of willingly touching a man that way made her want to hurl.
"That's what I'm talking about honey," he controlled the rage in his voice, seeing how it frightened her. "You never asked for what he did to you, and you obviously didn't want it."
She allowed his words to sink in, and wondered if she really wasn't at fault for those things that happened. She'd never discussed this with anyone, not even Rachel, because it made her so psychically sick remembering those years. Strangely enough, she wasn't feeling sick at the moment.
He wanted her to believe him, and knew that by sharing his own story, he might have a better chance. "Trust me Angela, I suffered at the hands of another person too, and it took me a long time to understand I wasn't the one to blame." He had only talked about this with a counselor, but he knew instinctively she'd had no one to turn to.
"You were raped?" The thought of this proud, gorgeous, confident man having suffered made her angrier than her own experience.
After years of therapy, he had come to understand that what happened to him was a violation against him and not something he'd been responsible for. "I was eighteen, and working at a piano bar in New Orleans. I won't say I was a saint in those days Angela, to be honest I was so screwed up with drugs and alcohol that I was barely making it through each day. Anyway, there was a producer who had came to my show one night and offered me a recording contract. I was trying to prove to myself that I didn't need my daddy's label to make it in the music industry and he offered me the rainbow with the pot of gold at the end."
She sat back down beside him, listening to his story, and felt oddly at ease as he continued.
"Anyway, being strung out on drugs, he asked me to come to his hotel and discuss the contract, and before I knew his intentions he had tied me down to a bed and forced me." The thought of that lecherous asshole touching him made him want to smash his face in. "Instead of turning away from sex, I slept with so many females that I lost count just to prove to myself I wasn't gay." He remembered the self-loathing he'd felt after that night and how many years it had taken him to get off the destructive path he'd allowed after the event.
"Did you turn him in," she couldn't imagine what it must have been like to have someone of the same sex rape her, and wondered if it could be any worse than it being someone you knew, like in her case.
"No, my father was on top of the recording industry at the time and instead of legal action we destroyed him together and made sure he never worked in the business again." He often looked back and wondered if he wouldn't have been better off putting the sadistic fuck in jail where he belonged.
It was so much to take in, and she'd never spoken to another rape victim before. "Wow," that was all she could manage because her head was spinning over his story.
"The truth is Angela, we can't help what happened to us in the past, but we can decide if we remain a victim for the rest of our life, or we overcome what they did to us." It had taken several years for him to accept his past, and he hoped he could help her rise above what had happened in her young life. For the first time in years he actually cared what happened to another person.
"Why would you have worried about being gay?" She knew digging into his life was none of her business, but a
Shocked at his words, and the anger that filled his face, she stepped away from him. "I wouldn't ever do that," the thought of willingly touching a man that way made her want to hurl.
"That's what I'm talking about honey," he controlled the rage in his voice, seeing how it frightened her. "You never asked for what he did to you, and you obviously didn't want it."
She allowed his words to sink in, and wondered if she really wasn't at fault for those things that happened. She'd never discussed this with anyone, not even Rachel, because it made her so psychically sick remembering those years. Strangely enough, she wasn't feeling sick at the moment.
He wanted her to believe him, and knew that by sharing his own story, he might have a better chance. "Trust me Angela, I suffered at the hands of another person too, and it took me a long time to understand I wasn't the one to blame." He had only talked about this with a counselor, but he knew instinctively she'd had no one to turn to.
"You were raped?" The thought of this proud, gorgeous, confident man having suffered made her angrier than her own experience.
After years of therapy, he had come to understand that what happened to him was a violation against him and not something he'd been responsible for. "I was eighteen, and working at a piano bar in New Orleans. I won't say I was a saint in those days Angela, to be honest I was so screwed up with drugs and alcohol that I was barely making it through each day. Anyway, there was a producer who had came to my show one night and offered me a recording contract. I was trying to prove to myself that I didn't need my daddy's label to make it in the music industry and he offered me the rainbow with the pot of gold at the end."
She sat back down beside him, listening to his story, and felt oddly at ease as he continued.
"Anyway, being strung out on drugs, he asked me to come to his hotel and discuss the contract, and before I knew his intentions he had tied me down to a bed and forced me." The thought of that lecherous asshole touching him made him want to smash his face in. "Instead of turning away from sex, I slept with so many females that I lost count just to prove to myself I wasn't gay." He remembered the self-loathing he'd felt after that night and how many years it had taken him to get off the destructive path he'd allowed after the event.
"Did you turn him in," she couldn't imagine what it must have been like to have someone of the same sex rape her, and wondered if it could be any worse than it being someone you knew, like in her case.
"No, my father was on top of the recording industry at the time and instead of legal action we destroyed him together and made sure he never worked in the business again." He often looked back and wondered if he wouldn't have been better off putting the sadistic fuck in jail where he belonged.
It was so much to take in, and she'd never spoken to another rape victim before. "Wow," that was all she could manage because her head was spinning over his story.
"The truth is Angela, we can't help what happened to us in the past, but we can decide if we remain a victim for the rest of our life, or we overcome what they did to us." It had taken several years for him to accept his past, and he hoped he could help her rise above what had happened in her young life. For the first time in years he actually cared what happened to another person.
"Why would you have worried about being gay?" She knew digging into his life was none of her business, but a
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