Page 138 of For Love or Money
He nodded.
‘And you were surprised that it was boys who bullied me. Why?’
‘Well, look at you,’ he said, his eyes glittering as they scanned her face.
‘I told you, I didn’t look like this then.’
‘Even so, I’d have thought a girl – any girl – among a bunch of teenage boys ...’
She took a deep gulp of her drink, her hand shaking as she lifted the glass to her lips. ‘I went to a boys’ school,’ she said. ‘There weren’t any girls.’
‘That must have been tough, being the only one.’
‘No, you don’t understand. There were no girls – not one in the whole school.’ She looked meaningfully at Rafe. She saw realisation dawning in his face, but there was still disbelief too.
‘You mean...?’
‘I mean not one. Not even—’ She gulped, looking away. ‘Not even me. I went to a boys’ school because—’
‘Because you were a boy,’ he breathed.
She turned back to find him looking at her searchingly. It was obviously a shock, and he was struggling to get his head around it. But at least he didn’t seem disgusted.
‘That’s why they bullied me. They hated me because I was ... different. It’s why my parents kicked me out. It’s why my boyfriend stabbed me.’
‘He didn’t know?’
‘Oh no, he did. I was out then – not at work, but with friends. I hadn’t even fully transitioned when I was with him. And he was fine with it ... as long as we were together. Or at least I thought he was. But when I broke up with him ... he was so angry. Like I said, he’d thought he was doing me a favour being with me. He couldn’t handle the humiliation of someone like me leaving him. And he was ashamed, I guess, after the fact, of having been with me.’ She rattled the ice in her glass, and knocked back the last of the whiskey. ‘So he stabbed me, and when that didn’t work, he plastered pictures of me all over the internet. Naked photos on revenge porn sites; videos of us doing stuff ...’
‘But if he was ashamed of it, surely he’d have wanted to keep it quiet.’
‘Oh no,’ she said bitterly. ‘Because every time someone liked or shared it, he took it as proof that he was a real man. Every vile, filthy comment reassured him that he hadn’t fucked a boy. He was just one of the lads and any other red-blooded male would have happily “given me one” and been none the wiser.’
‘Jesus!’ Rafe dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, swiping away tears.
‘It was after that that I decided to live in stealth. It seemed ... safer. After my final surgery, I changed my name – again – and moved to LA.’
‘What was it before – your name?’
‘Joanna when I first transitioned. My parents named me Joe.’
‘Joanna!’ he gasped. ‘That guy in Villefranche ...’
‘Yeah. So anyway,’ she said, looking down at her hands, twisting in her lap, ‘that’s it – all the news that’s fit to print. Or not.’ She laughed nervously.
It felt like an age as she waited for him to say something. Then his hand covered hers, gently unknotting them. He lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, while his other hand cupped her face, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw.
‘Stella,’ he breathed. There was a world of tenderness in the way he said her name, and when she looked up at him, her breath hitched at the love she saw in his face. Achingly slowly, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips firm and warm on hers, and she felt like she was melting, all the knots of tension in her body dissolving under the warmth of his touch. He pressed butterfly kisses to her cheeks, her nose, the corners of her eyes, kissing away the stray tears that escaped because she was so overcome with relief and happiness. She curled her fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck and kissed him back, loving the sandpapery rasp of his stubble against her cheek.
Things quickly got heated, and they were making out like a couple of teenagers, hands grasping urgently, pushing underneath clothes to reach for warm bare flesh. Stella jumped a little when Rafe slid his hand under her top and stroked along her stomach. But then she remembered that he already knew about her scar and everything else, and she relaxed because there was nothing to hide anymore. She gasped as Rafe slid a hand inside her bra, stroking her nipple while he sucked and nibbled at a pulse point on her neck. She undid the button of his jeans so she could slip her hand inside, rubbing his rock-hard erection through his boxer shorts. She slid her hand inside, and wrapped her hand around his cock. It was hot and hard, throbbing for her beneath the silky soft skin. As she began to stroke him, Rafe pulled away with a groan.
‘Bedroom?’ he said breathlessly, his eyes glittering with intent.
She nodded, and they held hands as they stumbled upstairs. Rafe led her into his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was still bright, and Stella watched, mesmerised as he stood in the light of the window and peeled off his shirt, revealing a tanned muscular chest with a light spattering of dark hair that trailed tantalisingly down his lean, taut stomach to the top of his jeans. He was so beautiful, and Stella suddenly felt inadequate and intimidated. Then she remembered that she was beautiful too, and she’d never been so glad, because she wanted to be beautiful for him. She held his gaze unflinchingly as she undid the buttons of her blouse and peeled it off, then unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. His eyes blazed as they raked over her naked body, and she didn’t flinch under his heated gaze.
Their eyes held as he walked towards her and took her in his arms, and Stella shivered as her naked breasts brushed against his bare skin. He looked into her eyes as he lowered his head to hers infinitely slowly, his lashes fluttering closed just as his lips touched hers. He kissed her softly, slowly, his mouth moving to her neck as he started to undo the button of her trousers, his fingers clumsy and awkward as they fumbled with the zip.
He lifted his head. ‘I’m shaking,’ he said with a self-deprecating laugh.
