Closely Guarded Secret (22 page)

A
s we pass the table by the front door, Bryce hands me a bouquet of flowers. “Here, baby, I picked these up for you. This is why I was late.”

I feel more foolish for my behavior. “Thank you, Bryce.” I inhale their beautiful scent before Steven walks up and takes them from me.

“Off you two go. I’ll put these in water,” Steven says and gives me a wink.

#

“What do you want to know?” Bryce asks as he pulls away from my house.

“For starters, why did Mara drop the lawsuit?” I ask with conviction.

“What else?” he asks.

“I’m not letting you dodge the question. Why did she drop the lawsuit?” I ask, not sure now if I truly want to know, but I search his face for an answer.

“Mara’s father has a reputation to uphold, and wouldn’t appreciate her tarnishing it with a scandal. She was reminded about security cameras, and there’s video proof of her actions. Not only would it would make her look like a fool, but also her father’s attorneys, if they back her ludicrous claim of assault. Reputation and family’s name mean more to her father than anything.”

This explanation sounds way too simple for someone who doesn’t take no for an answer. She had to have known there were security cameras. “I see. So, a bat-shit crazy woman, with whom you’ve had an ongoing sexual relationship, enters your apartment how? Did she break in? Did she scale the walls and enter through the patio? Window washer? Parachute in? Enter through the chimney? How exactly did she get in?”

He’s silent a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “She knows the code and has a key.”

I am about to ask why but stop myself since it’s none of my business. “Why don’t you change the locks and the code? You think she wouldn’t have had a spare made?” Talk about underestimating someone. The thought of her coming and going as she pleases leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

For some reason I think there’s something else he’s not saying, but his expression doesn’t give anything away. “I’ll take care of the issue with the locks. Can we get off the subject now?”

“That question, yes. My next question, why does she seem to know where you’re going all the time? Her private investigator or whomever it is she has following you wouldn’t know your schedule, or even where in L.A. you would have been. What excuse are you going to come up with for her now?”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Making excuses for her?”

“Put yourself in my shoes and imagine if the roles were reversed and you had to sit back and watch a dog and pony show of me and my ex, like what’s been going on between you two, what conclusion would you come to?”

“Dog and pony show?” he asks with humor.

“Yes, in a way, it’s like being at a carnival except I’m not enjoying the show, or the rides.”

We come to a stoplight and he looks over at me. “You didn’t enjoy the ride last night?” He reaches over and squeezes my thigh. His fingers move toward my sex and I put my hand over his to keep it from traveling any further.

“Bryce, that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

“I guess I would have questions, yes.” After a pause he says, “I don’t know how she knows where I’ll be and when. We know the same people. Her social circle is big. Maybe she has someone giving her information. I don’t know.” It makes sense, but doesn’t put my mind at ease. “You said something earlier, and I want to know why you said it.”

“Oh? What?” I ask innocently.

“You said she showed up at my penthouse for a photo shoot, supposedly without me being there or knowing. Do you think I was there the entire time?”

“Bryce, I don’t know what to think. You’re both on this perpetual fucked up merry-go-round with each other. It’s like you want to stay on it with her for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the thrill? Is that what you’re looking for? If it is, I’m not the type of woman to sit back and watch.”

I’ve had enough fucked up shit to last me a lifetime.

It feels like a lumberjack is in my head with an ax chopping away at a petrified tree. “Can you stop at the nearest store?” He looks at me alarmed. “I need some water. I have a splitting headache,” I say and he looks relieved. I think he thought I wanted out of the car and away from him.

“Wait here,” he says, getting out of the car before I have a chance to. He comes back with water and an electrolyte drink for himself.

I pop a couple of ibuprofen and rest my head against the seat, closing my eyes. We don’t talk anymore about my ‘meltdown’ or questions. The next thing I know, we’re in the parking lot. He shuts the car off and takes my hand in his.

“Do you want to stay here for a while to see if your headache goes away?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer and miss his game.

Bryce leans in, giving me a quick kiss. “For luck,” he says and runs over to his teammates. I smile, remembering him doing that at the first game I attended.

A lot has happened in a week’s time. Some memories leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but I choose to ignore them and turn my attention to the game. I could watch him all day, but something today is different from last week. He’s more aggressive and definitely hitting the ball with more force than necessary.

The sun’s blaring high in the sky, scorching me, and my headache isn’t going away. I put my hands on each side of my head next to my eyes, and shield them from the sun even though I have on sunglasses. I’m trying to concentrate on the game, but it’s too painful to keep my eyes open so I close them and rub my temples.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Bryce is standing next to me. “Ali, Ali.”

“What? Huh?” I mumble, momentarily dazed.

“How’s your headache? Is it gone?” he asks.

“Yes, finally.” I’m embarrassed I missed the end of his game, but when he starts talking about it, I find out his team lost, but he also seems to be in a better mood.

“ . . . I’ll get that bastard next week,” he says, laughing at himself. “Come on. I have half the sand from the beach in my clothes.” He shakes his shirt and shorts and I think he’s right. He looks at me once we reach the car. “Do you want to go home or come to my place?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. I know you wanted to have lunch, but I’m not hungry right now.”

“We could pick something up and take it back to your house?”

“Okay. That sounds good. What about your clothes?”

“I have a bag with an extra set in there. Never know when you’re going to need them.” I don’t want to think about all that implies.

He surprises me by pulling into a fast food place. He doesn’t seem like the fast food type. “Should we bring Steven something?” He asks.

“No, he’s with Sampson.”

“Oh, so we’ll have the house to ourselves? No chaperones?” he asks in a wicked tone. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” I know it’s true, I am safe with him. We pull up to the house. He grabs his bag from the trunk, and I grab the burgers. He drops his bag by the stairs and follows me into the kitchen.

“This is a great house,” he says between bites of his hamburger and french fries.

“Thanks. It’s Steven’s. His parents gave him the down payment to buy it. He wants to remodel, but can’t decide what he wants to do. One day it’s sleek-modern, the next its country cottage.”

“Well, yes, I can see his dilemma,” he says and chuckles.

“I like this,” I say.

“What?”

“This. Us hanging out like normal, everyday people.”

“I like hanging out with you like this.” He takes me by surprise all the time.

“You need to take a shower. You brought the beach with you,” I tell him, getting up and clearing the dishes.

“Join me.” The look in his eyes is different. Not his usual burning look. Is it more pleading? No, that’s not it. I can’t place my finger on it.

“Bryce, I’m not ready, I mean, we’ve only done it, you know, once?”

“I understand. I’ve told you, I’m a patient man. We’ll take as many small steps as you need.” If I were the type of person to swoon, I’d be a puddle at his feet right now.

“Thank you for understanding.”

Winking at me, he grabs his bag and disappears upstairs. I get the broom and start sweeping up the trail of small grains of sand he left from the front door to the kitchen. It’ll be interesting to see how long we can keep our hands off each other since we’re alone in the house.

A
fter changing into shorts, I plop on the living room sofa and channel surf. Twenty minutes later, Bryce comes downstairs. I lift my legs and he sits down, putting my legs across his lap. He smells scrumptious, but I try to not let it get to me. While watching TV, he starts rubbing my feet. Oh, that feels good and his hands are so strong. With my eyes momentarily closed, I enjoy this brief pampering. When I open them, he’s staring me.

“What do you want to do the rest of the day?” I ask. His tender, but firm foot massage has made me sleepy.

“What I’m doing now,” he says, not taking his eyes off me.

“Rub my feet?” I ask with a small giggle and I try to stifle a yawn, but it escapes anyway.

“Come on.” Lifting my legs, he gets up.

“Where are we going?”

“To bed.”

Oh shit. It’s too bright. There’s nothing to shield my body from his eyes.

“You’ve had an emotional day, so I thought we’d lie down and rest.”

“I’m comfortable stretched out here,” I protest. Taking my hand, he practically lifts me off the sofa.

“You are, but I want to lie beside you and I can’t here. Don’t worry, I still don’t have any condoms.” Once in my room we both lie on our sides facing each other, and he takes me in his arms as I curl into his chest. He begins stroking my hair, and that does it. I’m out.

#

“Why won’t you talk to me, let me explain it to you? It wasn’t my fault. Please, Bryce, don’t walk away. Come back. I need you to come back.” He turns to me, his brown eyes, hollow and empty. “Wait, your eyes aren’t brown. No. It can’t be. Not you. No.”

“Ali. Wake up. Wake up, baby.” Bryce is shaking me.

It takes a minute to come out from the darkness. “Bryce?”

“Yes, it’s me. Who did you think was here?” He looks worried. Oh, no. Why did it have to happen with him here? Damn dreams.

“Ali, you’re shaking and you were screaming. It must have been some dream.”

“I can’t remember,” I lie. “What time is it?”

He looks at his watch, “Two thirty-three.”

“I was only asleep thirty minutes?” It felt like hours.

“Thirty-three minutes to be exact,” he smiles. He shifts on his elbow so his head is propped in his hand looking down at me. “I see such sadness in your eyes sometimes,” he says, stroking my cheek.

“I’m not sad, Bryce. Especially after last night, I’m elated.” I give him a crooked smile.

“How are you today, after last night?” he asks, concern written on his face.

“I’m a little sore, but I’m okay. It’ll take some getting used to.” I feel shy talking about this.

His eyes light up. “There are other things we can do.” His fingers trail along my jaw, down my throat resting behind my neck, bringing our lips together. My palm cradles his face as my other arm snakes around his back. He grabs my leg hitching it up over his hip. His hand travels up my thigh, reaching around cupping my ass, pulling our bodies closer. I’m flush against his erection, eliciting a moan from us both.

My fingers fist in his unruly hair, our frantic kiss becomes more heated as my sexual appetite increases by the second. His hand caresses my ass, before finding its way to the front of my shorts, rubbing my clit through the material. Rolling over, now on top of me, I wrap my arms and legs around him. His pelvis thrusts into mine as my legs tighten like a vise around him.

I want to take the lead on this. Between the books I’ve read about sex, my imagination and Steven’s ‘how to’ stories, I’m ready. I release my legs making it known I want on top. Bryce flips us so I’m sitting on him, staring into the blue depths of his eyes, and I’m lost. Gently tugging on his arms I pull him toward me, taking hold of the hem of his shirt, I remove the cloth barrier, exposing his muscular chest and arms. I lightly push him back and admire his physique for a moment. He’s total perfection and I have a crazy desire to bring him into me and never let go.

My lips carve a path down his throat to his chest, lighting sucking along the way, his head tilts hard into the pillow. Circling one nipple with my tongue, while lightly pinching the other, my pelvis grinds into his erection for some much needed friction. A slight hiss escapes through his clenched teeth. “Oooh . . . yes,” he moans loudly.

A light sheen of sweat glistens over Bryce’s body. His natural scent and firm torso, combined with a light taste of salt, tantalizes my senses and tongue while it explores and kisses every inch of exposed skin. Across his stomach, over the well-formed ‘V’ of his hips, like an arrow guiding me to my destination, I follow the path through the light trail of hair around his navel as it tickles my nose. My shaking hands undo the top button of his jeans, working their way to the zipper, moving it down in a slow pace.

Never breaking eye contact, he lifts his hips as I grasp each side of his jeans, moving down his thighs as I pull them off, along with his boxers. My heart’s racing faster than a thoroughbred. I’m astonished at what I see. This is my first glimpse of him fully erect. Holy fucking shit. That was in me? There’s no way I can take all of him in my mouth.

Walking cat-like up his naked body, my nails lightly scrape the inside of his thighs, kissing his legs as I go. My hands move on their own accord, lightly tugging on his neatly trimmed pubic hair lying flat against his skin.

“I like to keep it tame.”

“I like it.” I move to plant a chaste kiss against his skin but his erection jerks, smacking the side of my face.

“He has a mind of his own.” The corner of his mouth turns up into a wry grin.

“Obviously,” I say cheekily, then return to my exploring.

His hard cock stands at full attention waiting for its inspection with my mouth. My fingers curl around the base, and I’m rewarded with a gasp. The heat from his body sears into mine as we become one. My tongue outlines his shaft until I reach his balls, caressing one then the other, gently rolling them around in my mouth, lightly sucking before letting them pop out. A deep rumble from his throat emits the most soulful moan of pleasure I’ve ever heard.

Swirling along the sides of his impressive erection with my tongue getting him slippery, my thumb slides over the escaped drop of moisture on the tip, caressing the ridge of the head. Keeping steady pressure with quick flicks of my tongue on the underside of his cock, my mouth fully engulfs him.

“Fuck…oh god. Oooh . . .” he drawls out in a breathy whisper. His hands fist in my hair, guiding me.

Hearing his muffled gasps and feeling his body tense beneath me fuels my desire. My grip tightens with each downward stroke, matching every upward glide of my mouth while increasing speed, before slowing and repeating the motions. Looking up, I gaze at him lustfully before taking him again.

“Oooh, don’t stop . . . so good.” He thrusts faster signaling he’s close. Careful not to scrape my teeth against him, my mouth and fingers tighten around him, while my other hand lightly squeeze and caress his balls. “Harder, baby. I’m gonna come, ” he bellows. His eyes squeeze shut, his body stiffens. Releasing his grip on my hair, he grasps the blanket so tightly, I’m sure his knuckles turned white.

Using hand over hand motions I pump faster. There’s a sharp intake of breath, followed by a guttural moan while his cock pulsates several times as he comes. His body shudders when I let go, and he pulls me to him.

Once our gazes lock on each other, I know he’s sated. I curl into his side wrapped in his arms as his chest moves up and down in harsh, uneven breaths.

“You’re an amazing woman. Are you sure it’s been ten years?” he asks jokingly while stroking my back. I don’t say anything. “How’d you learn to do that?” he asks quizzically and I lean up so we’re face to face.

“If you can read, you can do just about anything,” I say right back. “Actually, you’re my first.” The look on his face is pure shock, and then a smile crosses his lips. Luckily, he doesn’t ask any more questions.

I would return the question but I already know the answer.

Returning with warm washcloth from the bathroom, I clean up the “deposit” Bryce left on his abdomen. Lying next to him holding him close, I can feel his heart return to a normal beat. He moves after a few minutes, causing me to roll on my back so he’s on top of me. Before plunging his tongue into my mouth, he says, “Your turn.”

I felt the warmth spread through me as the familiar moisture gathered at the apex between my legs while sucking him. I feel it even more now. I’m so wet for him. His kisses are more fervent, with more purpose, arousing me further. His naked, beautiful body is hovering over me like a stealth bomber on a mission who has found its target.

His tongue is ruthless, doing what it does best. He was right: he’s taking me to heights and places I never knew possible or ever imagined myself going. In that moment, a dark thought clouds my mind about him seeing me naked. My shirt’s long enough and I don’t have to take it off. I can keep him from touching me there. I’ll figure out a way, but what I want right now, is his mouth on me, all over me, and at this moment nothing else matters.

“Ali,” is all I hear as he leaves kisses down my chin to my throat, and glides his tongue around my neck. His mouth leaves gentle nibbles along my ear, before trailing his tongue alongside my neck. My white flag waves as I surrender to him, to his mouth, to his touch. I’m totally lost in him. He lies beside me, his mouth still engulfing mine.

Kneading my aching breast, slowly moving his hand down my body until it reaches the top of my shorts. He undoes the button then the zipper, his hand trails up my abdomen. I tense and immediately come to my senses. His hand freezes. He stops kissing me. He stops touching me. His eyes are firmly fixed on mine when he sits up.

Oh, no. Oh, please no. Don’t look at me like that. Please.

I don’t say anything. He’s staring at me intently. I knew it. He’s repulsed. What was I thinking I could hide, especially with us like this?

“Ali?” he asks quietly as he pushes my shirt up, while gently tugging on my shorts to take them off.

I try to keep him from moving my shirt up, placing my hands over it and over my now opened shorts. “Bryce, please. Don’t,” I say in a hushed whisper.

I feel tears coming, doing my best to keep them at bay. Ignoring my plea, moving my hands, he moves the top of my boy shorts out of the way so he can see. His eyes trail from one side of my abdomen to the other, looking at the marks, which for ten years have marred my body. His eyes shoot up to mine again and my tears betray me, falling down the sides of my face into salty pools of sorrow on my bed.

“What happened to you?” he asks gently as he lies beside me, wiping my tears away.

“I’ll understand if you want to go,” I say softly, trying to force my tears to stop. I can’t look at him, so I turn my head away.

He puts his hand on the side of my face, turning it back towards him. “Why would I go? Ali, please tell me what happened.”

“I . . . ” At that moment, my memory betrays me as I forget the story I was going to tell him. “I was in an accident,” I blurt out. Inwardly, I let out a relieved sigh.

“What kind of accident?”

“Car accident.”

“A car accident did this?” he continues, looking over my scars.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He kisses the corner of my eyes, kissing away the remaining tears. “It’s okay. Why are you crying?”

His hand reaches for my face, caressing my cheek as I roll over to face him, “I didn’t think you’d want to be with me, you know, looking like this.”

“What? Why would you say that? I’m still here.”

“I’m damaged.” In the back of my mind, I hear Steven berating me for saying that about myself.

“Damaged? You’re anything but damaged. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not perfect, you know, like the women you go out with.”

“You’re the only woman I’m going out with, the only woman I want to be with, and to me you’re perfect,” he says in the most soothing voice. “I’m not going anywhere.”

This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. Maybe because the explanation I gave him is a lie. If he knew the truth, it would definitely be a game changer. I don’t want to lie, but right now I have to – to protect myself. I hope if and when the time comes to reveal the truth, he forgives my lie. He sprinkles kisses all over my face, bringing his lips to mine, kissing my tears away.

Never taking his eyes off mine, I can tell he’s asking permission, so I give a slight nod. His fingers glide down my neck to the top of my shirt, as his hand travels down, undoing each button, pulling down my bra, exposing my breasts and pebbled nipples. The warmth of his mouth, sucking and nipping gently, brings me back to that euphoric feeling I get when I’m with him.

His moves down my body and sits up, bringing me with him, taking off my shirt, tossing it on the floor, then reaching around, undoing my bra. I feel unsure, unprotected and nervous. Never breaking visual contact, he lays me back gently,

“I want to see you,” he says as he tugs on my shorts. I resist. I’m too exposed “Ali, I’m here. I’m not going to turn away from you because of these.” He points to the permanent marks on my body.

My heart rate increases, slamming against my chest, and I think I’m on the verge of having a heart attack. He lifts my hips at the same time, removing my clothing. I’m frightened of what he’s thinking. With the lightest touch, he traces the scars with his fingertips and kisses each one.