Because this time it was Spencer who wanted to steal her control away.
Spencer, who wanted to punish her. Who wanted her at his mercy.
She trembled, the memory of his words once again taunting her. And the truth was, she wasn't sure she could meet his demands.
After Brian, she'd vowed never to never let a man take away her control again. But the truth was more ominous than that.
It wasn't about a vow. After all, vows could be broken. No, it was the idea that terrified her. Made her insides clench. Her heart race.
Brian had made her scared to be vulnerable, and she hated him for it.
But at the same time, there was no going back.
So what the hell was she supposed to do now?
Amanda had foisted a mimosa on Brooke, promising that it would ensure that she was relaxed for her lunch meeting. And, frankly, Brooke had to admit that her friend had a point. The drink had definitely taken the edge off of Brooke's trepidation, and she'd even managed to steer the conversation off of Spencer and the show and the impossible position she was in. But once she was back in her small Travis Heights bungalow to change clothes and gather her notes for the meeting, Brooke's nerves started to jangle again.
Any time I want.
Any way I want.
Complete control.
A hard shiver cut through her as Spencer's words filled her head, and she told herself she was worrying without reason.
Yes, he was being a ridiculous pig to put that kind of a condition on working with her, but that wasn't the issue.
The issue was whether she could do it, and the answer was yes. It had to be yes. Because she'd done it before. This was Spencer, after all. How many times had she given herself to him? Abandoned herself to his whims, his desire. Surrendered totally to his touch and his pleasure?
Too many times to count, and never once had he gone too far or pushed too hard.
But that was before.
Before she walked away.
Before Brian.
Before the thought of relinquishing control made her want to curl up into a small ball and hide.
She hadn't stayed cloistered these last five years, but she hadn't had a real relationship either. She didn't trust enough to open herself to that kind of intimacy. And as for pure sex--well, if a guy crossed the line, she ended it. She was the one in control. Always. Any shift in that dynamic, and she walked.
That was what control was all about, right?
Andrea, her therapist, had told her that there was nothing wrong with clinging tight to control early on if it eased the nightmares and the anxiety. And it had. After about a year, she'd felt mostly like herself again. The nightmares had faded, and she didn't end up in the bathroom having a panic attack every time she went to dinner or drinks with a guy.
But surrendering to a man in bed? Andrea might have urged her to begin opening herself up little by little, but that was an intimacy that she still wasn't prepared to give.
For a moment, she considered calling Andrea and getting her scoop on this whole mess. But the therapist had left Austin almost two years ago to take a position in Baltimore. She'd offered Brooke a referral, but Brooke had declined, assuring the older woman that she was feeling centered and whole again.
She'd meant it at the time. Now, though...
Now, she guessed that she'd have to rely on the Andrea that lived in her head.
The sharp ring of her doorbell saved her from getting lost in either her memories or her fears. "Coming!" she called as she hurried that way, wondering who the hell it could be at one o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon.
She pulled open the door, leaving the screen door latched, then froze. Her father.
"Daddy."