Read Closely Guarded Secret Online

Authors: Natalie Money

Tags: #romance

Closely Guarded Secret (9 page)

BOOK: Closely Guarded Secret
2.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I could never imagine myself saying this, but there’s something about you also.” I’m not sure if I should have said it, but for some reason I couldn’t help myself. The wine definitely went to my head.

 

I don’t know if total disclosure is normal conversation for a first date or not. I like his honesty, if it is honesty. Maybe he’s on the prowl, looking for his next victim.

 

Bryce directs me out of the restaurant by placing his hand on the small of my back, warming me all over. The feeling goes directly to my knees this time and I trip. He’s quick to catch me and I say, “Oh, I didn’t see the rug.” If only he knew how he makes me feel. I look at him and judging from the humorous look on his face, maybe he does know. Charles is waiting, opening the door for me to climb into the SUV as Bryce gets in on the other side.

 

“Thank you. Dinner was great,” I say.

 

“You’re welcome. I think the company I was with made it better.” I can’t stop looking at his mouth when he speaks, those plump sinful lips.

 

#

 

As we stand on my porch, face to face, gazing at each other, our fingers locked together, I wonder if we’ll kiss? If so, it’ll be my first in many years. What kind of kiss will it be?

 

“When can I see you again?” he asks in a low, seductive whisper, taking me out of my thoughts. He doesn’t waste any time. Maybe he is on the prowl.

 

“Whenever you’d like,” I answer, surprising myself. The wine has taken over my brain, and mouth.

 

Bryce closes the distance between us. We’re nose to nose, almost touching. My heart flutters as my want for him spreads throughout my body and my breathing becomes quick and shallow.

 

“I’m serious, Ali. When can I see you again?” He’s searching my expression for an answer.

 

“Well, you’ll see me a week from Thursday.” I reply.

 

“I thought you weren’t doing the shoot.” His eyes get wide and I can tell he’s surprised and curious.

 

“I’m not. I’m going to support Sean, the other Bridge photographer. My boss asked me to be there.”

 

His eyes light up further. “Why don’t we go out afterward?”

 

“I’ll have to check my calendar and let you know.” I don’t want him to think I’m desperate, which I’m not. “Thank you again for tonight. I had a wonderful time.”

 

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly as he places his fingers under my chin, gently tilting my head up toward his. He holds my gaze, asking a silent permission. When I nod, he leans down and closes his eyes and as his lips touch mine, I swear fireworks are going off all around us. He places a gentle, chaste kiss on my lips, which sends shockwaves from my head all the way to my toes and I return the kiss. “Goodnight, Ali.”

 

“Goodnight.” He waits until I get the door unlocked and go inside before he turns and leaves.

 

I don’t hear any noise in the house, so Steven and Sampson must be out, which right now is welcomed. I want to savor this whole evening, especially that kiss, alone in silence. Just being that close to him, his kiss as brief as it was, has left me wanting more. Still able to taste him, I trace my tingling lips with my fingers. I want to see him again. My phone pings that I have a text. It’s from Bryce.

 

*Looking forward to seeing you again. Until then . . .*

 

I may not have had sex in ten years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have fantasies and certain things don’t affect me or turn me on. I’ve educated myself and I have the occasional urge for release. Hell, I’m human. I’m not dead below the waist, but tonight I’m too wound up to hop in the shower for some needed relief.

 

I climb into bed thinking about his soft lips against mine. My whole body melts, turning me to jelly, a sensation I didn’t know I would ever feel. It’s a pleasurable feeling. Nestling into my pillow, I close my eyes and think about tonight. He’s definitely left me wanting more.

 

 

His palm is firm against my pubic bone, slightly pushing my mound upward to give his tongue unrestricted access, applying just the right amount of pressure. Beginning with slow, long strokes, his masterful tongue glides the length of my now slick opening, flicking wildly when he reaches my clit. He looks up at me, his piercing blue eyes burning into mine before he starts his succulent torture again. My fingers fist in his hair and hold him against me tightly. He reaches up and cups my breast, letting out a long groan as my body responds; bucking against him, screaming out, feeling it build as he brings me closer to ecstasy.

 

I jolt awake, one hand in my boy shorts, the other cupping my breast.

 

I shake my head slightly, take a deep breath and try to reel my senses back to reality. I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face several times. Shit, that was intense. Once my brain has connected again and even as I lie here in the dark, my dream is already fading. I grab my pillow, holding it tight, feeling sleep coming for me again. I don’t usually dream, but obviously I do now.

 

#

 

My phone rings, waking me up. Seven forty-five. Who would be calling me this early? It’d better not be Jodi. I don’t have to be up for another fifteen minutes and I’m irritated as I grab my phone. I look at the number: it’s Bryce. My irritation melts away and I think about last night’s kiss, his lips on mine. I smile as I answer the call, surprising myself how much I want to hear his voice.

 

“Good morning. You’re up early.” I know I still sound sleepy.

 

“Good morning, beautiful. I have a meeting in few minutes. Did I wake you?” He sounds apologetic.

 

It’s okay. My alarm was about to go off anyway.”

 

“I woke up thinking about you this morning, and even a cold shower couldn’t get you out of my mind,” he says in a very seductive voice. I shouldn’t be surprised at his bluntness. I figured out from the moment I met him, he cuts right to the chase.

 

“Good thoughts, I hope.” As I think about our kiss last night, a vision of him leaning over me flashes through my mind.

 

“The best kind of thoughts,” he continues in his sexy tone.

 

“I enjoyed last night, and I’m looking forward to next week.” Even though it’s faint, his scent lingers against my skin. Trailing my fingers along my lips, I can still taste him. It was a swift kiss that left me wanting more.

 

“Me too. More than you can imagine. I wanted to wish you a good morning. I have to run now. Call me later?” He asks.

 

“Okay, I will. ”

 

“Until then.”

 

As I lie in bed with my phone against my chest, wearing the biggest smile I’ve smiled in years, my alarm goes off. I’m ready to take this next step, and I want it to be with Bryce.

CHAPTER 13

 

 

I
wake at 6 a.m. with a nagging pain in my side - not the usual spasms I’ve had in the past. Can it be a pulled a muscle from all the workouts I’ve been doing? I rub gentle, small circles in the area above my abdomen, but the dull pain continues. Only after I curl into a fetal position do I feel any relief. I sigh and hope the pain disappears before Bryce’s photo shoot tomorrow. I can’t believe how fast the past week has flown by.

 

Jodi, Sean, and I have been in Jodi’s office for the past couple of hours going over the shots needed for the Bryce Steede article. Sean has an excellent portfolio, and I’m not really comfortable tagging along on his shoot. Does he feel the same way?

 

Jodi wanted me for this job, but Sean’s aunt, also a co-owner, has put Jodi in a difficult spot. Even though Jodi’s the editor of photography as well as a co-owner, she was pressured to have Sean do the shoot. She told the other owners I would also be in attendance, or no photos at all. So, The Bridge will be paying not only for one, but for two photographers. Trina peers around the door to say she’s confirmed the shoot for tomorrow with Mr. Steede’s assistant. Everything’s good to go.

 

Bryce and I’ve talked everyday since our first date last week, but between his schedule and mine, we haven’t had time for another date. We discussed his Raindrop invention, but he could have been speaking Greek for all I knew. He divulged favorite foods, one being pizza, and a little about his childhood. I learned he was a boy scout, but when I asked him for how long, he changed the conversation back to me. He’s good at that.

 

I told him I was a Brownie, but that I had quit after an overnight camping trip.

 

“Why?” He asked.

 

“Some of us girls were playing chase and I ran into a huge spider web. The web and bugs, some still alive, were tangled in my hair. It took the camp leaders forever to remove it all. I woke up screaming because a bug crawled into my ear. I ran out of the cabin, tripped on a rock and landed face-first on a small log, splitting open my bottom lip. After a midnight trip to the hospital and three stiches, that was the end of camping, and the Brownies, for me.”

 

He tried to keep a sympathetic voice, but the unmistakable sound of stifled laughter filled my ears. “I didn’t mean to laugh. Forgive me?”

 

I attempted to scold him and convey my pout through the phone. Looking back, I can see the ridiculousness of the situation, even though at the time I was traumatized and thought it was the end of the world.

 

When I think about Bryce, it brings a smile to my face and my heart skips a beat. When I think about not seeing him, my stomach is in knots. All week, I’ve alternated between ice-skating and martial arts, hoping to alleviate my anxiety. How can I feel like this after one date?

 

This morning I haven’t had time to call Bryce, and I find myself missing him. When I get back to my office, I call but get his voice mail.

 

“Hey, it’s me. This is the first chance I’ve had today to come up for air. I had a minute so I thought I’d call. I hope your day is going well. Call me later if you have time.”

 

Two minutes later, my phone rings. He starts speaking before I chance to say hello. “You’re doing things where you can’t come up for air, huh? Sounds like fun to me.” I hear that familiar twist and seduction of his words.

 

“Yes, we’ve been very busy planning how to deal with an impossible subject for our photo shoot tomorrow.” I like teasing him.

 

“Impossible? I’m sure you’ve had to deal with impossible people before?” Oh, so he wants to play.

 

“I have, and they always do what I want, and end up eating out of my hands.”

 

“Do you often put something in your hands that needs to be eaten?” His voice is low, making me shift around in my chair. He can unsettle me even when I’m not in his presence is

 

“I’m selective about what I put in my hands and even more selective what I put in my mouth.” My hand instantly flies to my mouth. Did I say that?

 

I hear his sharp intake of breath. “I’m sure your impossible subject will be more than willing to help. You should ask him.”

 

“Who said it’s a man? Besides, I don’t think there’s hope for this person. They may be a lost cause.”

 

“Oh, well in that case, I’d pay good money to watch her eat out of your hands. Anywhere else for that matter.” I hear a small groan come from him.

 

“Of course you would. Every man’s fantasy.” I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this banter. My breathing has quickened and he notices. Do I want to get off this merry-go-round with him? No, I don’t. This is all new to me and I find I like it. Why have I waited ten years?

 

“Ali, can I see you tonight?” The tone of the conversation shifts and this sounds like a plea. The only thing going through my mind right now is our kiss from last week. I’ve never been rattled like this by anyone but him.

 

“You want to go out tonight?” It sounds like I can’t believe he would ask me out. Reality is, I still can’t believe it.

 

“You didn’t like being with me?”

 

“Of course I did. It was the best time I’ve had in years.”

 

“Years?” he asks, sounding surprised. Damn. I shouldn’t have said years.

 

“You know how time goes by so fast, it all blurs together.” Not the best answer I’ve come up with, but it’ll do for now. “What about tomorrow night?”

 

“What about tonight? Talking to you but not being able to see you is driving me crazy,” he confesses.

 

“If I go out with you tonight, I won’t have a clear head for work tomorrow,” I counter, hoping he’ll understand.

 

“I’m sure we could do something to clear your head, but I understand. Tomorrow it is.” I can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not. He’s hard to read.

 

“Are you sure?” I ask, not knowing if I offended him in some way.

 

“Yes, of course.” His demeanor has changed. He sounds more in control.

 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow? Two o’clock sharp. I’ll be the one setting up the lights.”

 

“Yes, and I’ll try not to be the ‘impossible subject.’” He has no idea how impossible he can be.

 

#

 

The slow, throbbing, intermittent pain from this morning hasn’t subsided and two rounds of ibuprofen, haven’t helped. A relaxing evening is what I need. Deep breaths, meditation and soothing music is the perfect recipe.

 

After pouring myself a glass of wine and sinking into the sofa, my mind wanders to the first meeting I had with Bryce in New York. We’ve only gone out once, but if our phone conversations this week are any indication of what’s to come. Every time we hang up, I’m left wanting more. His energy, like the male version of a siren’s call, beckons me, drawing me to him. It’s a new, surprisingly overwhelming sensation: one I find hard to resist.

 

I want to move forward with this relationship and know eventually it will lead to sex. That’s what I must reconcile with myself. I know I’ll have to get over my fear of intimacy. Maybe it’s not the sex I’m worried about, but what will come after and, of course, when he sees the marks on my body. Those will definitely make him turn away from me. It’s not a conversation to have with someone the first time you go to bed with them. “Oh hey, by they way, can we do this with our clothes on?”

 

I inhale a deep breath, then exhale slowly. I shouldn’t worry about this, but if it goes further, I’ll have to tell him something. I don’t know about him touching me. What if he doesn’t want to see me after? I would’ve bared my soul for no reason, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I could tell him I was in an accident. For my peace of mind, if it comes up that’s what I’ll say. Why am I thinking about this now? It’s too soon, but at least I have a cover story.

 

I’m yanked from my thoughts by my phone. It’s Steven.

 

“Hey, I’m thinking pizza for dinner. How does that sound?”

 

“Sounds good. Hurry up, I’m starving.”

 

He huffs, “I’ll demand my order goes first, ahead of everyone one else before me.”

 

“Work your magic smile on them,” I advise, hanging up before he can reply.

 

#

 

Whatever he did, it must’ve worked. Steven soon is home putting pizza on plates while I pour our drinks. At that moment, a sharp, searing pain, rips through my abdomen and I clutch my stomach. The glass I was holding slips from my hand, hitting the floor, shattering to pieces, as I double over in agony, and tumble to the floor. Oh, fuck, not again.

 

“Ali!” Steven screams in panic. He dives to the floor beside me and lifts my head to keep it away from the broken glass. “Is it the same thing?”

 

“I don’t know.” I can barely get the words out.

 

“Ali, please let me take you to the hospital. It’s getting worse.”

 

“No, no hospitals. Just let me lie here a minute. Please, Steven.”

 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your doctor?”

 

“A while,” I mumble as I curl into a ball.

 

Steven lifts me and carries me to the sofa, and says he’ll be right back. He’s soon adjusting my heating pad and fluffing the pillows behind my head.

 

“Thank you, Steven.”

 

“I hate seeing you like this, Ali. Why won’t you go to the doctor?” he asks with concern.

 

“I’ve had it all day and it wasn’t the usual pain, so I thought it would go away. It always does.”

 

“Ali, These episodes get worse with each passing month. Do I need to call your mother?”

 

“No. She doesn’t need to know about this. I’ll be fine. Women get cramps all the time. It’s no big deal. There’s no need for a doctor,” I grit out.

 

“Well, I have a mother and I’ve never seen her do this. Ever.” He’s worried and pissed.

 

“I know, I know. I’ll make an appointment. Please, stop. I can’t handle this pain and you berating me at the same time,” I say in short breaths.

 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you but I don’t want to come home one day and find you dead. What if you were driving? Promise you’ll make the appointment.”

 

“I promise,” I say, finally feeling the heat work its magic. I’m able to stretch out one of my legs all the way.

 

“Good. I’m going to go clean up. I’ll be back in a minute.” Giving me a stern look, he disappears into the kitchen.

 

The pain has gotten worse over the years. Being on the pill doesn’t seem to help anymore. I need to see my doctor, but I have to get through this week first. A horrible image flashes in my mind. What if I’d been with Bryce when this happened? I erase that image from my thoughts as I attempt to get up. Steven walks back in at that moment.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His usual deep voice now sounds like a soprano.

 

“Going to bed.”

 

“Here, let me help you.” He wraps his arm around my waist to help me up the stairs.

 

He settles me into my bed and wraps my heating pad around me as I curl into a ball. I’m thankful Steven was here this time. I’ve been by myself when it’s happened before, and had no choice but to remain on the floor in a fetal position for a while. The pain is excruciating, rendering me helpless. Feeling helpless creates panic and anxiety because it takes me back to a time and place I don’t want to revisit.

 

Later, there’s a soft knock at my door. “Come in, Steven. I know it’s you.”

 

“I know, but I didn’t know if you were asleep or not. How are you feeling?”

 

“Better. Most of the pain has subsided. I’ll be fine in the morning. I think I’ve been on my feet too long.” As usual, I try to play it off like it’s no big deal.

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure that’s the reason. Are you going to work tomorrow?” I know he wants me to stay home and in bed.

 

“Yes, I’ll be fine. It’s only bad the first night.”

 

“I know what you’re doing. You think because the pain is going away and you’ll be back to normal tomorrow that you won’t need to see your doctor.” He’s glaring at me now.

 

“I said I would make an appointment. Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?” These episodes are getting worse and I’m worried myself.

 

“Okay. I’ll drop it… for now. You know I’m coming from a place of love and concern for you, right?”

 

“Yes, I know and I appreciate it. I don’t mean to make you worry.”

 

“All right. I’m going to bed now. If you need anything, just yell.” He turns and heads out the door.

 

I roll over to my other side, finally getting comfortable. I just want one thing in my life to be normal. That’s not an unreasonable request, is it? My eyes are heavy with sleep as I feel myself drift off.

 

“I’ll wait until you’re ready. We’re going to be so good together. You believe me don’t you, Ali?” His brown eyes are as dark as space. “Yes, Thomas, I believe you.”

 

#

 

I’m roused from an uneasy sleep an hour before my alarm is set to go off, something I rarely do. A hazy image is teetering on the edge of my memory but my brain won’t kick in to retrieve it. Did I dream? I can’t remember. As I lie there my phone rings. It’s Bryce. With a huge grin on my face, I answer. “Hello there. How are you this morning?”

 

“I’m having a better morning now that I’ve heard your voice. How are you?”

 

“I’m doing well. I was about to get ready since I need to go into the office a little earlier this morning,” I say, keeping the conversation on neutral ground.

 

“I called last night but didn’t leave a message.”

 

“I saw but it was late and I didn’t want to wake you.” A little white lie won’t hurt in this case. “You’re not canceling today, are you?” I ask, now alarmed.

BOOK: Closely Guarded Secret
2.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

We Are the Cops by Michael Matthews
Where Serpents Sleep by C. S. Harris
Power in the Blood by Greg Matthews
hislewdkobo by Adriana Rossi
George Washington Werewolf by Kevin Postupack
The Shadowkiller by Matthew Scott Hansen
Artichoke's Heart by Suzanne Supplee
Kill or Be Kilt by Victoria Roberts