Intimate (26 page)

Marissa lay on the couch in a
stupor for a few minutes after Caleb left, every part of her body hurting, like
she’d run a marathon.

She hoped Caleb
was all right. Hoped he was bleeding like she was.

She wanted him here
with her desperately and wished he hadn’t left. Even felt a few flickers of
resentment, but they never grew strong enough to take root.

She’d known
this would wound him. She’d known it would shake the foundation of his world.
Everything he’d always believed about love and relationships was centered in
his parents’ marriage.

Caleb just
needed some time. He would come back to her when he could.

After a while,
the stupor faded, and she felt like she might cry. Instead of giving into it,
she got up and went to the kitchen to pull out a bowl, baking sheet, and
ingredients for cookies.

She needed to
do something, and there was nothing else to do.

So she made
chocolate-chip cookies—mixing the dough, spooning it out, putting it in the
oven, and starting the next batch in record time.

Soon she had
three more sheets of raw cookies lined up on the counter, waiting to get baked.
She was just pulling the first batch out of the oven when she heard a knock and
then a key in the door.

Whirling
around, holding the sheet with an oven mitt, she saw Caleb rush over.

He was flushed
and sweating a little, his dark hair sticking out in every direction and dark
stubble covering his jaw. But his eyes looked like liquid silver as he took
three more hurried steps toward her. “Are you all right, baby?”

She blinked,
too disoriented to react in any other way. “Yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

“Yeah. I’m so
sorry I left you alone. I never should have left you.”

For some reason,
that was what did it. She burst into tears, the hot tray of newly baked cookies
wobbling dangerously.

Obviously
acting on instinct, he reached out to take the sheet pan from her loosening
grip. His hands closed over the edges and then immediately opened again.
“Damn!”

The pan was
very hot.

It fell to the
floor with a clatter, a few of the soft, warm cookies bouncing off and the
others sliding gooely against the metal tray.

They both
stared down at the mess for a moment. Caleb blew a few times on his burned
hands.

It was just too
much. Marissa started to laugh, rasping her amusement through her tears. When
he pulled her into a hug, she wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying more.
Either way, it was helpless and breathless and very wet.

His grip was so
tight it was almost painful, but it was exactly what she needed. She heard him repeating
her name, his face buried in her hair, proof that he was just as emotional as
she was.

When they
finally pulled apart, she grabbed his hands, checking to see if they were
seriously burned.

They were just
red, so they couldn’t have been that bad.

“Do you need
anything on them?”

“They’re fine.
I don’t need doctoring this time.”

She still
wanted to fuss over him, but she resisted the impulse. Instead, she bent down
to start cleaning up the cookies on the floor.

He helped her,
and as he set the sheet in the sink, he turned to search her face anxiously.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah. Telling
you wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I actually feel…feel better.”

Gesturing
toward the three other sheets of cookies she’d prepared to bake, he said, “It
looks like you were really upset.”

She wiped the
remains of tears from her face. “I
was
upset. But the obsessive food
preparation was mostly because I was worried about you.”

“I’m okay.
Really.”

He looked
better than she’d been expecting, which was reassuring. He was strong, and he
wasn’t going to fall apart. But he looked absolutely exhausted, with an
intangible vulnerability she’d rarely seen.

“So what do you
want to do now?” she asked.

The corner of
his mouth quirked up adorably. “I guess I kind of want to sit down.”

She smiled, a
flood of warm emotion washing over her. “Excellent. You sit down. I’ll finish
making cookies.”

***

They talked a little while she
finished the cookies. He told her about the conversation with his mother, and
she asked him what he was going to do about his dad.

He wasn’t sure,
but at least he was talking about it with her.

When the last
batch of cookies was done, Marissa was so tired she was drooping. It was almost
midnight, and it seemed like eons of time had passed since she’d met with Dr.
Sawyer earlier that day.

She was about
to suggest getting some sleep, but then she took a good look at Caleb.

He still looked
tired, but he also looked wired, like he was stewing with restless energy,
angst, emotion that he needed some way to channel.

It wasn’t
sexual—not even close. She knew enough to tell the difference. But he
definitely needed an outlet before he’d be able to sleep.

“Do you need to
work out or something?” she asked without segue.

He raised his
eyebrows. “Why?”

“I don’t know.
It just looks like you need to do something.”

“I don’t know
how you know me so well,” he said. “I do need to do something, but I don’t
think I have energy enough to work out.”

She thought for
a moment. “You should play. That always makes you feel better. Why don’t you go
home and play your cello some.”

 “I’m not going
to leave you tonight.” His eyes were utterly sober.

Marissa was
moved so deeply by the simple sentence that she thought she might droop to the
floor. “I can come with you. I don’t mind sleeping at your place. If…if it’s
all right with you.”

She assumed he
understood she meant that they’d really sleep. She was far too leveled to think
about having sex tonight, and she thought he probably was too.

He stood up and
stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Of course, it’s all right.”

***

When they got to his place,
Marissa got ready for bed while he went right to his cello.

Wearing pajama
pants and a tank top, she came to find him in the room where he practiced. His
eyes were soft when she kissed him goodnight.

“I hope my
playing won’t bother you.”

“It won’t.
Actually, I’m going to leave the doors open so maybe I can hear a little.”

He paused,
running a hand through his messy hair. “Do you want me to play in the bedroom?”

It was exactly
what she wanted. “Do you mind?”

He shook his
head and pressed his lips against hers in the sweetest little kiss.

“Can you play
Bach for me?” she asked.

For a moment,
the memory shuddered in the air between them. “Of course.”

They went to
his bedroom where Marissa crawled into bed and Caleb set up a chair in the
empty space near the door.

She watched as
he positioned himself, settling the cello between his knees.

Then he started
with the Prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite #1, the familiar strains hauntingly
beautiful, taking on such emotional power it might have been a gift, a caress, a
declaration of love, a final benediction.

Marissa tried
to keep her eyes open so she could watch him, swaying slightly with the music,
handling the graceful instrument like a lover.

Eventually,
however, the day and night caught up to her. She fell asleep to the music he
played her.

She had no idea
when Caleb was emotionally recovered enough to put down his cello, but he was
sound asleep beside her when she woke up the next morning.

***

They had a leisurely morning the
following day, sleeping in late and taking it easy.

When they
finally got moving, Caleb pulled on some clothes and went out to get them
something for breakfast.

He returned
with a bag from a café nearby and a bunch of pink tulips.

She stared down
at them when he offered the flowers to her, a slightly sheepish expression on
his unshaven face.

“You got me
tulips?” she breathed, taking the bouquet in her hands like it was made of
delicate crystal.

“I just
happened to pass by and see them.” He took step back. “You’re not going to make
a big deal about it, are you?”

She laughed at
his wary tone and tried not to hug the flowers in sheer delight. “No big deal
at all. But thank you.”

Despite her
attempt to temper her response, she was feeling very sappy about the gesture,
and she was pretty sure he could recognize it.

But it was all
right, since he was obviously feeling rather sappy too.

They ate their
late breakfast, and then finally Caleb found the energy to go shave and take a
shower.

Marissa was
cleaning up his kitchen, trying to resist the temptation to reorganize his
cabinets, when a phone rang.

She
automatically reached for her phone, blinking in surprise when no name or
number popped up on her screen.

Then she
realized it was Caleb’s phone.

She glanced at
it and saw the caller was Baron James. Caleb was still in the shower, so
without even thinking it through, she connected the call.

“Hi, Baron.
It’s Marissa.”

“Oh. Hi. You’re
answering his phone now?” It sounded like Baron was smiling, but his voice wasn’t
as insouciant as usual.

“He’s in the
shower. How are you?”

“I’m okay.
Actually, not really. My father died yesterday.”

“Oh, no,” she
said, with a sympathetic clench in her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.”

No wonder he
sounded so subdued. She remembered exactly how it had felt last year when her
own father died. “Was it sudden?”

“He had heart
trouble, but we weren’t expecting it so soon. I guess you’re never really
expecting it.”

“I guess not.
I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“You can give
Caleb a message, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

“I missed a
call from him yesterday, and he left a message about the jazz band.”

Marissa frowned,
leaning against the kitchen counter. “The jazz band?”

“Yeah. It was a
great idea, while it lasted, and I was really hoping he’d decide to come on
board with us. Anyway, his message said he decided not to. Just let him know I
have to give up the band anyway, since my dad died. There’s too much to take
care of with the business now, and I just can’t take so much time off over the
next year. So he doesn’t have to feel bad about deciding against it.”

Her vision
blurred as she tried to process what Baron was saying, words she understood but
couldn’t put together into a coherent story. “I’m sorry,” she said, mostly just
for something to say. “Were you looking forward to it?”

“Yeah. If I
could have gotten Caleb on the cello, we could have blown the roof off clubs
all over the country. I know he’d been torn about it for the last month, so
just let him know it’s just as well he decided against it.”

“I’ll let him
know,” she said hoarsely. “Take care, Baron. I’ll send good thoughts your way.”

“Thanks. I
could use them.”

When Marissa
disconnected, she stood frozen for a long time, breathing raggedly and trying
to figure out what had just happened. What that conversation really meant.

Slowly, it
started to make sense.

Caleb had told
her, more than once, that he wasn’t thinking about quitting his job with the
orchestra.

Evidently, he
was.

He’d told her many
times he wasn’t looking around at other opportunities.

Evidently, he
was.

She’d
innocently believed that he was being completely honest and open with her
lately.

Evidently, he
wasn’t.

*
* *

She had to sit down on a stool
at the kitchen counter since her knees weren’t holding her up.

After a few
minutes, she heard the shower turn off. Faint sounds of him in the bathroom. A
door open. A fond voice call out that they should head out of the city and
maybe take a hike that afternoon. The sound of someone walking down the hall.

And he was
there. Wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Lean, toned body
incredibly masculine, incredibly handsome, incredibly sexy. Smiling at her
affectionately.

As if she
belonged here in his apartment.

As if she
belonged to him.

“What do you
think?” he asked. “Good idea?”

 She had no
idea what to think—except to know he’d been lying to her face. Over and over
again.

When she didn’t
answer, he frowned, “Is that my phone?”

“Yeah,” she
managed to rasp out. “It rang. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have answered it.”

He looked
confused now. Confused and entirely innocent. “It doesn’t matter. Who was
calling?”

He stretched
out his hand for his phone.

His phone. He
wanted his phone. Just like he wanted her heart, her faith, her love, her support,
her loyalty, her future.

Just like he
wanted her body.

Marissa picked
up the bunch of tulips she hadn’t yet put in a vase and took a step over, her
face frozen into a tight mask. She handed him the phone.

“Baby, what is
it?” he asked in concern. “You look like somebody died.”

Somebody had
died. Poor Baron had lost his father.

“Do you have
anything to say to me?” she demanded.

His face was
absolutely baffled. “About what?”

Marissa didn’t
say anything else. Just kept walking past him out of the apartment.

But not before
she’d dropped the bouquet—the flowers tumbling down in a crushing fall of pink
and green.

Caleb actually sputtered.

He stood
stunned for a moment, trying to orient himself to what had changed while he was
in the shower.

The flowers
were a silly, clichéd gesture, but he’d wanted to do something to express how
he was feeling, how committed he was to her and to their relationship.

He’d thought
Marissa had understood it. He’d thought they’d meant something to her. He
certainly hadn’t expected for her to toss them onto the floor like that.

Then he looked
down at his phone, saw the last call, and realized exactly what had happened.

Leaping
immediately into crisis mode, he ran for the door and out into the hall in bare
feet and wet hair, still wearing nothing but a towel.

He caught her
just as she was about to step onto the elevator. “Marissa. Marissa, wait!”

He’d grabbed
her arm, so she stopped, one of her hands holding the elevator door open. “What
do you want?”

“I want to say
I’m sorry,” he burst out. “I want to explain.”

Her blue eyes
were wide and hurt. “Okay. Explain how you’ve been lying to me all this time.”

“It’s not like
that. I wasn’t trying to deceive you or anything. I just…at first, it was just
a random idea of James’s. Nothing serious. But I knew you’d worry about the
idea of me quitting the orchestra so I didn’t tell you. And then, when I really
started to consider the jazz band, we were in so deep, and I didn’t know how to
tell you. I’m so sorry, baby. I know it was stupid. It just never seemed like a
big deal.”

“Not a big
deal? It was your career. Your
life
. If you aren’t happy in the
orchestra, why wouldn’t you just tell me? I asked you over and over again. Why
did you have to keep lying to me?” The elevator door continued trying to shut,
and she pushed against it impatiently to keep it from doing so.

He could tell
she was angry, but that wasn’t anywhere close to the worst thing. She also
looked betrayed.

Like he’d
betrayed her trust.

Despite the
urgency rolling through him, he had to acknowledge that she had reason for
feeling that way. “I didn’t want you to worry.” She opened her mouth in an
obvious objection, so he pressed on, bursting out with what he’d never intended
to say. “I just didn’t want to disappoint you again.”

Some of the
simmering emotion faded. Her shoulders drooped as she leaned against the
elevator door to keep it open. “Again?”

“I know I’ve
disappointed you before,” he mumbled, feeling awkward and vulnerable and naked.
“I know I made a mess of my life in the past. I know how hard you had to work
to help me get back on track. I didn’t want you to think it was happening
again.”

Tears streamed
down her cheeks. He reached out to comfort her but stopped when she jerked away
slightly.

He continued, “I
know you have this picture in your mind of who you want me to be, and I know
that man has a stable job, like with the symphony.”

She sniffed
slightly. “So you don’t want to be that man? You don’t want to play with the
symphony?”

“Not really.”

Sobbing for
real now, she said, “I’m so sorry, Caleb. I’m so sorry if I made you think I
wanted you to be someone different, that you thought you couldn’t tell me the
truth. I love you for who you are—exactly who you are—and I never meant to
pressure you into a box you just can’t fit.”

He took a
ragged breath, overwhelmed with emotion, vulnerability, and relief. She
understood precisely what he meant and said it better than he ever could.

“But that doesn’t
mean it’s okay to lie to me.” She looked so small and hurt and helpless that he
could barely resist the compulsion to take her in his arms.

“I know. I was
wrong. I’m not making excuses. I was just trying to explain.”

Caleb’s
neighbor across the hall came out just then, giving a start when she saw
Marissa crying and Caleb in just a towel.

He adjusted his
towel, which had slipped lower down his hips, and Marissa moved out of the way
so the other girl could get on the elevator.

Before the
doors slid closed, he noticed Marissa giving his neighbor a cold, narrow-eyed
look.

“What is it?”
he asked, distracted briefly from the intensity of their conversation.

“She was
leering at you.”

“What?”

“That girl. She
was leering at you.” Marissa curled her lip in obvious displeasure.

He felt a
strange wave of gratification as he realized her reaction was from
possessiveness. Of him. “Well, I am only wearing a towel.”

“That’s no
excuse.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and her expression
changed. “You were explaining?”

“Yeah,” he
said, trying to get back on track with his thoughts. “I’d already decided not
to do the jazz band. It might be fun for a few performances, but it’s not the
kind of music I want to do for any length of time. I was really just using the
idea as…I don’t know. You know I’ve always had a problem with commitment, and I
was starting to feel the strain of it. Having a different option on the
backburner made me feel better. Like I wasn’t so trapped by this new thing
between us. But I’m over that. I’m absolutely committed to you now. I want to
be with you no matter what. I’d already turned down James about the band. I
guess he told you that.”

“Yeah. I guess
I can understand about the commitment thing. We both got thrown into this, and
it’s taken a while for both of us to really be ready for it. But…”

“I know,” he
said, when she didn’t complete the thought. “I won’t lie to you again.”

“Please don’t.”

He took a
breath, wondering if it was okay now, if the worst of the crisis was over, if
he wasn’t going to lose everything because of his stupidity after all.

Then Marissa
asked softly, “So you don’t really want to do the orchestra?”

“No. I really
don’t.”

She didn’t reply
immediately, and Caleb started to feel a sinking in his gut at the possibility
that she wasn’t going to be okay with him not doing what she thought was best
for him.

Then finally,
“Well, your contract ends in just a month or so. Maybe we…maybe you can find
something that suits you better.”

He stepped over
and finally let himself take her face in his hands, cupping it like it was
precious. “Maybe
we
can.”

She smiled up
at him wetly. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you really
need to get back inside. You’re going to catch a cold with no clothes and wet
hair.”

And that was
when he knew that everything was going to be all right.

***

They went back to his apartment,
where he got dressed and Marissa took a shower.

That afternoon,
they talked some more, trying to sort through some lingering issues in their
relationship. Then Marissa took a nap and Caleb tried to pull himself together
by playing the cello for a couple of hours.

Marissa went
back to her place before dinner, saying she had homework to do and that she
also needed a little time alone, but they both knew something had been settled
that day.

Something that
had changed everything.

The following
evening, Marissa invited him over to dinner again.

She’d made a
very romantic meal, and they ate by candlelight.

Caleb tried not
to get ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help but hope this was a very good
sign.

After dinner,
they moved to the couch. They spent an hour or so, kissing and talking and
slowly stepping up the heat.

Then Marissa
finally said what he’d been waiting to hear all evening. What he’d been waiting
to hear for the last two months. “I want you to take me to bed now.”

He swallowed
hard and didn’t move—not the slightest twitch of a muscle. “Are you sure? I
know things kind of fell apart yesterday and—”

“They fell
apart and then were put back together. I’m sure. I want this. I want
you
.”
She stood up and gazed down on him, her hair tousled around her shoulders, her
eyes soft and affectionate. Utterly vulnerable. Utterly trusting him.

Everything he’d
ever wanted.

“Oh, baby, I
want you too.” His voice was huskier than he’d expected and, feeling suddenly
like he was living one of his own fantasies, he stood up and then lifted her up
into his arms.

Marissa’s arms
went around his neck as he carried her into her bedroom. “You’re going all out
on the romantic stuff, I guess.”

He chuckled and
bounced her just slightly in his arms to adjust her weight. “You haven’t even
begun to see how romantic I can be.”

 “If you get
any more romantic than you already are, I’ll just melt away into goo.”

“Then melt
away.”

He’d reached
the bed, so he carefully laid her down. Her hands never released him, and she
pulled him down on top of her. Kicking off his shoes, Caleb swung his legs up and
kissed her deeply, making sure to take it very slowly.

When he pulled
away, she smiled sheepishly. “Seriously, Caleb, I’ve only ever had sex once and
that wasn’t good at all. I’m afraid this might not be all that romantic or sexy.
I
am
sorry about that and hope it won’t be too disappointing to you.”

 “Marissa, I
don’t want anything but you—exactly as you are. There’s no way I’m going to be
disappointed.”

He was speaking
the truth. He was realistic enough to know that this first time they couldn’t
get swept up in some epic passion, but it didn’t matter. As long as he could
please her. As long as she didn’t get panicked, repulsed, or hurt. As long as
he could claim her body with his—sink into her after holding back for so long.

As long as he
was allowed to make love to her, nothing else really mattered to him.

She rubbed his
shoulders and then moved her hands to the top button of his shirt. “Well,
you’ve got me. Exactly as I am.”

 “You’ve got me
too.”

Her face
tightened with emotion, and she pulled him into a brief kiss.

“Thank you for
being so patient through this whole thing. A lot of men wouldn’t have done it.”
She’d unbuttoned his shirt now, and she rubbed his chest, lightly scraping her
fingernails over his nipples in a way that made him shiver.

He was already erect
from her little touches and from the sheer thrill of her lying beneath him in
bed. He leaned down to slide his tongue over her lips. “It wasn’t that long,
and you’re worth waiting a lot longer for.” Edging his hands under her back, he
found the zipper to the sexy little dress she wore.

Giggling, she raised
her upper body to let him unzip her. “You’re saying all the right things
tonight.”

“Good. My plan
is working.” Caleb finished undoing her dress and then pulled it down her body
until he could drop it to the floor. She gazed up at him unselfconsciously,
wearing a lacy black bra and panty set. He felt his erection throb at how
delicate, lush, and tempting she appeared, the black a sharp contrast to the
pale softness of her skin.

“Everything all
right?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he remembered this wouldn’t
necessarily be easy for her.

She chuckled
and tugged at his belt. “So far, so good. Of course, you still have your pants
on.”

At her hint, Caleb
got rid of the rest of his clothes. He watched her carefully as she gazed at
his naked body and saw nothing but love and admiration in her eyes.

He moved back
over her on the bed and gave in to the overwhelming impulse to fondle her
breasts. She sighed and arched into him in a well-known way, soon squirming
with pleasure from his touch.

Unfastening her
bra, he pulled it off so he could have better access. Leaning down, he mouthed
one of them, fluttering his tongue over the nipple until it tightened. As he
suckled, he caressed the rest of her body with his hands.

Intentionally
keeping it slow, Caleb forced down his own urgency, and it wasn’t long until Marissa
was moaning helplessly and clawing at his back.

He loved her
like this. Loved how much he could please her, how much she needed him. Despite
his aching arousal, he was tempted to extend the foreplay even longer, just so
he could hear her frantically gasp his name and feel her writhe wantonly
beneath him.

“Caleb, enough.
You’re driving me crazy. I’m ready. Let’s get on with the show.”

He pulled up
and forced himself to pause to check on her. “You’re doing good so far?”

She released a
half-groan, half-laugh. “Yes. Still good. Except I’m about to explode.” She
locked eyes with him. “I’m ready, Caleb. It’s finally time to do this.”

Both relieved
and exhilarated, he slid his hands down to her underwear. Hooked his fingers
under the sides and slid them off. He could smell her arousal. Wanted to growl
possessively at the scent.

It was for him.
Only for him.
She
was only for him.

When she was as
naked as he was, he slid his hand between her legs and felt how hot and wet his
touch had made her. He considered bringing her to orgasm with his hand but
changed his mind when Marissa closed her fingers over his painfully hard shaft.

“I think you’re
stalling. Are
you
starting to panic now?” Her tone and expression were
teasing.

“I’ll
definitely let you know if I start to panic.”

He wanted to
grab Marissa’s hips and drive himself inside her, but he asked instead, “Do you
want to try it on top. You’d be more in control, so maybe it would be easier
for you.”

She looked torn
for a moment. Then said, “Okay. We’ll try it that way at first.”

He was going to
do whatever was best for her so, suppressing his urge to dominate, Caleb rolled
over onto his back. Waited quietly for Marissa to make her move.

He saw her take
a deep breath, as if she was gathering her courage, but her face was clear and
composed as she straddled his hips. She pulled her body up, beginning to poise
herself above him.