Love and Defects (Faultless Flaws #2)

Prologue

Sterling

Darren ran his palms up my chest, and I swallowed back vile, his touch making my skin clammy.

For two months now, Darren had been pushing me for more.

But I hadn’t been ready. Honestly, I still wasn’t.

It wasn’t easy for me to allow people I didn’t feel one hundred percent safe with to touch me. It made my skin crawl.

Nausea swirled in my gut, and I squeezed my eyes shut when his voice taunted in my ear, “That’s right, pretty boy. I’m the only one who gets to touch you.”

“Stop,” I blurted, all of the muscles in my body locking up.

Both of us were naked by that point, and even though Darren was gorgeous as hell with thick muscles and abs I’d once daydreamed about licking, I couldn’t do this.

I was ready to tear my skin off with my nails just so I couldn’t feel him touching me anymore.

And I wasn’t hard. Not in the slightest.

It’d been a problem for me for as long as I could remember, but I didn’t know how to bring it up to anyone, not even a doctor.

I sure as hell couldn’t bring it up to my parents.

Puberty hit, and my dick barely did anything.

And that still hadn’t changed over the years.

I managed to get hard for a second, but then he would flash into my head, and I would go soft.

And if someone was touching me that I didn’t feel safe with, it was like my dick wanted to get sucked into my body.

One would think after being rescued fifteen years ago from that crazed predator, I’d be over this. But some things stuck with you. And for me, this was one of those things.

Being sexually abused by my father for years had fucked me up in so many ways, I lost track of them all. Hell, I still came across shit that triggered the hell out of me. It was a never-ending cycle of destruction that I couldn’t escape.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Darren snarled, shoving away from me.

He picked up my limp dick, and I bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood to beat back my fear at his unwanted touch.

“You’re not even fucking hard. You got a goddamn problem, Sterling?

This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed you can’t get your dick up. ”

I flinched, pain slicing through my chest from his harsh words. It didn’t matter that he and I weren’t really invested in each other. Words still cut me deeply.

Sue me, I was a fucking softie. And I took everything to heart.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, rolling off my bed. I snatched a pair of sweats off the floor. Pretty sure they were Graham’s—my roommate and best friend—and they were probably dirty, but oh, well. They’d do. I needed to cover up before I tried shedding my fucking skin. “Get the hell out, Darren.”

“Fucking gladly,” he snarled. He got off the bed and yanked his jeans off the floor. “And this—” he snapped, gesturing between us once his jeans were zipped, “is fucking over. Lose my goddamn number until you learn how to get your dick up.”

Not even bothering to pull on his shirt or his shoes, he stormed out of the dorm room, slamming the door shut behind him so hard, the sound rattled my teeth.

I blew out a soft breath and focused on my shoes as I waited for Dr. Clancy, my therapist, to call me back for my two-thirty appointment with her. I was missing class for this, but I needed to see her. And two-thirty was the only slot she had available today.

I’d barely slept last night. Having Darren touch me had awoken a whole bunch of shit I wasn’t prepared to face.

I shouldn’t have pushed myself to have sex before I was ready.

Before I fully trusted Darren. I mean, fuck, it’d taken me almost an entire year to be comfortable enough with Graham touching me.

Why did I think I’d be able to let Darren touch me like that after only knowing each other for three months?

“Sterling?” I heard Dr. Clancy call, snatching me out of my head. I glanced up and forced myself to my feet when I saw her standing at the door, holding it open for me. She smiled at me, but there was concern etched into her eyes. “How are you, hun?”

“Been better,” I muttered. And that was as close to the truth as I was willing to spew when people could hear.

I’d been seeing Dr. Clancy since I was a kid and my parents adopted me.

They’d searched everywhere for the best trauma therapist for me, not caring what kind of distance they needed to drive.

So, when I was choosing a college, this one was a no-brainer for me.

Her office was within walking distance of campus, which was useful because I hated driving.

We walked down the hall and entered her cozy office.

It was done in dark brown and deep burgundy colors, and black-out drapes covered her windows.

Her dark office had always helped soothe me when talking about things.

My father had always kept me in well-lit rooms so he could see all of me. So, I sought comfort in the darkness.

“What’s going on, Sterling? It’s not like you to call and make an appointment outside of our normal times.”

I blew out a soft breath and sat on the couch across from her comfy-looking chair. Rubbing my hands together, I leaned forward, chewing on my bottom lip. “Last night, I tried to have sex with the guy I’ve been seeing for the last couple of months. It, um… It didn’t go well.”

She nodded with no hint of judgment in her facial expression. “Tell me about it.”

I leaned back and sort of wrapped my arms around myself as a chill swept through my body.

“I heard his voice in my head,” I rasped.

“He called me pretty boy.” Another chill raced down my spine, and goosebumps popped up on my flesh.

I rubbed my arms as if a cool breeze had blown over my body.

“I told Darren to stop, and then he made everything worse when he touched me. Grabbed my dick,” I explained.

She didn’t even flinch at my crass language.

I was sure there wasn’t much she hadn’t heard in all her years of being a therapist. “He was giving me hell for my dick always being soft.”

“That’s a lot to unpack,” Dr. Clancy began. I nodded in agreement. I knew it was, which was why I was here. I wasn’t afraid to seek help when I could sense I was spiraling. “First, let’s start with you being soft, even when you should be sexually aroused. How long has that been happening?”

I flushed. I hadn’t expected her to zero in on that so fast. “Um… always?” I said, though it came out as more of a question. “I haven’t ever been able to keep an erection.”

“You haven’t told anyone before today, have you?” she asked me. I could hear the disapproving note in her voice. When I shook my head, she sighed. “Before you leave today, I’ll refer you to a doctor I trust. He’s been in the business a long time.”

I sighed, hating it was coming to this, but she was right. I needed to see a specialist. I couldn’t keep ignoring this. “What do you think is wrong with me?” I asked her.

“I believe you have erectile dysfunction,” she gently explained. I blew out a soft breath. Fucking great. “But I believe it’s linked to your trauma and PTSD. But I want a second opinion before I do anything further.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, leaving it at that.

I trusted Dr. Clancy to help me make the best decisions for my body.

And God, it would be nice to one day be able to be on the receiving end of sex rather than always being the giver.

I didn’t mind being the giver—loved it actually.

But I’d like to receive the same in return.

“Can I ask why you felt the need to have sex with Darren, and you haven’t known him long?” she asked me next, sensing I wanted to move on from the topic as well. I’d told her the moment I decided to give Darren a chance. She’d encouraged me but also reminded me to be cautious.

I’d obviously thrown caution out the window last night.

“He’s been pushing for it,” I told her. “I mean, I’m fine giving oral sex. That doesn’t bother me. But every time he touched me, I clammed up. And I should’ve known I wasn’t ready, but I thought I could just get through it.”

She leaned forward a little, her eyes meeting my dark ones.

“Sterling, trauma is not something you just get through. What you endured and the memories you have to live with should not be taken lightly. It doesn’t matter that it happened fifteen years ago.

You have to do what you’re comfortable with and what doesn’t trigger you. ”

“And being touched by people I don’t trust is a trigger,” I muttered.

She nodded. “We both know it is, hun. Stop being so hard on yourself. Stop pushing yourself to do things you know won’t work out in the end just because you think they should.

These memories will be there for the rest of your life, and the trauma, the triggers, the anxiety—it’s all going to follow. ”

“I know,” I grunted. I just wanted to be normal.

She reached across the small distance between us, and after I nodded at her, she gently squeezed my knee. She was one of the few people I trusted to touch me, but when I was feeling out of sorts like I was right now, she knew she needed to ask for permission.

Everyone close to me did.

“You’re going to find someone one day who makes you happy and makes you feel safe,” she assured me. “But don’t force it.” Then, she grabbed her laptop and opened it up. “Let me write up this referral and print it out for you. I want you to go see this doctor as soon as possible, okay?”

I nodded. “Got it.”

She smiled at me. “This is just a tiny setback, Sterling. It’s not the end of the world. So, take a deep breath, file this away in your trigger file, and be aware that being touched sexually by someone you’re not comfortable with brings him forth, okay?”

Oh, trust—I did that last night the second it happened.

But still, I just said, “I will.”

I blew out a soft breath as I laid back on the cot in the ultrasound room I was in.

From what I understood, some weird wand-looking thing called a transducer was going to be used to get images of my blood vessels to check the blood flow to my dick.

I’d requested a woman to do it, and while the nurse had looked a little weirded out, the doctor had agreed and told me he’d stand in the room but nowhere near me.

Thank God for accommodating and understanding doctors.

“Just breathe,” the lady told me. “I don’t have any reason to touch you like you’re worried about.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I drew in a deep breath. “Touch is triggering for me.”

She nodded in understanding. “We’re going to take good care of you here,” she promised me. “And I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

“Okay.” I drew in another deep breath and slowly released it before shutting my eyes and nodding for her to go ahead. A few minutes later, it was all over and I was dressed back in my normal clothes, waiting for the results of all the exams, blood work, and the ultrasound.

My phone buzzed in my hand as I chilled on the cot, and I looked down at it, clicking on Graham’s text.

Graham:

Hey, just came in from class to grab lunch with you. Where are you?

I cringed. I hadn’t told him what was going on, and I knew he was worried about me because I wasn’t being my normal self with him. I was just struggling and needed time. Graham was good about giving me that, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t hover.

Sterling:

I had to take care of something. Have lunch without me. I’ll grab something on my way back to campus.

Graham:

Promise?

I smiled a little. God, I was so in love with my best friend, it was sickening to even think about.

Ever since Graham met me at the beginning of freshman year, he went out of his way to learn everything he could to help me.

I struggled to eat on my bad days, so he found things that were easy for me to keep down like soup, crackers, broth, and scrambled eggs of all things.

When he would find me gone in the middle of the night to go running to burn off steam and nervous energy—and to try running away from my thoughts—he would come hunt me down and just fall into step beside me without ever saying a word.

Graham had become my lifeline. He hadn’t batted an eye when he found out I couldn’t stand being touched by people I didn’t know, so the entire first year we were living together, he worked with me to gain my trust. But he also let me touch him first. It took months for me to allow him to touch me, but I swore I saw tears in his eyes when I finally did.

Sterling:

Promise. I’ll even send a pic of what I order.

Graham:

I’m holding you to that.

I snickered and then locked my screen when a light knock sounded on the door.

The doctor walked in and took a seat on his stool.

“There’s nothing wrong,” he told me. “Physically, there are no blockages. All of your vitals are great. Your bloodwork came back perfect, and I didn’t find anything on your physical or your ultrasound.

I believe Dr. Clancy is right, and you’re suffering a mental block. ”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. If that was the case, then there was no hope for me.

We’d tried multiple medications, but I always had horrible side effects from them, so I eventually just stopped trying medications altogether when I was seventeen.

My parents hadn’t liked it, nor had Dr. Clancy, but everyone had supported me.

“Thanks, doc.”

He nodded. “I wish there was more I could do for you, Sterling. I really do. I think this is something you and Dr. Clancy need to work through together.”

I slid off the cot. “Thanks, doc,” I repeated, just wanting this day over with. “I’ll talk to her about it at my next appointment. Will everything be faxed over to her?”

He nodded. “I’ve got someone working on it as we speak,” he assured me. “You have a good day, Sterling.”

“You, too,” I muttered before I walked out of the room, heading to the checkout counter.