C13, PT. 6

When she started to ease away, his voice stopped her.

“Lie on top of me.”

His voice was husky and drowsy enough that she had to lean down to hear him.

“What?”

One eye opened. “Lay on top of me while I nap.”

“I don’t think…”

“You weigh nothing. You put on a hundred pounds, I can still lift you over my head without breaking a sweat.”

She bit his shoulder hard enough to make him flinch, even though his disregard for her weight made her feel better. She stretched out on top of him, nuzzled his cheek, and copied the placement of his arms, so her arms lay on top of the muscled, veiny backs of his. She breathed in his scent and had to suppress a moan. He smelled of soap, man, and the faintest hint of sandalwood. As minutes ticked by, their breathing synchronized. His animal heat seeped through her clothing and made her feel as if she was near a fire. Even relaxed and almost unconscious, his energy vibrated the air around them.

Knowing he wasn’t asleep, just floating, she whispered, “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you know so much about massage?”

In London, he said he picked up the skill, but his knowledge of anatomy, body mechanics, and physiology was too in depth to be casual. She jumped to the conclusion that he learned how to massage to take care of women he used too hard in the bedroom. But Sarai’s accounting of him didn’t fit with that theory.

“Roth?”

“We did everything ourselves. Build the house, repairs, hunting, cutting firewood. I was too young to help as much as he wanted me to, so Mom took on more than her share and got hurt a lot. They didn’t have the money for hospital bills, so I did what I could to make her more comfortable and help her heal quicker.”

The last thing she expected was for him to bring up his childhood again. A dark suspicion slithered through her mind and dug its claws deep into her belly. She raised her head and prepared to question him further until she registered that his body was no longer loose, but stiff as a board. Her need for answers was paramount, but her desire for him to be happy and at ease was greater. She kissed his ear and whispered, “You’re a dick for letting me think you gave your prostitutes rubdowns.”

She knew she made the right choice when his body quaked beneath her as he chuckled. She let out a mock growl and sank her teeth into his shoulder.

“You think this is funny?” She moved over his body, play-biting, until he was outright laughing. That carefree sound was worth the cost of not getting answers.

“Come here,” he said, voice amused and indulgent.

She flopped on his back and propped her chin on his shoulder. His hand sank into her hair as he looked back, eyes shining.

“Never had a prostitute in my life,” he confessed.

Her scowl vanished.

“Been with three women. My first was a professor at Stanford. I was sixteen and in the midst of it before I knew what was happening. The next time, I let it happen to see if I liked it. Realized I didn’t and stopped it from happening again. You were my second. My third was after you, after we divorced.”

When she tried to pull back, his hand bunched in her hair to keep her in place.

“I couldn’t finish. Tried a month after that, same woman. I don’t understand why she offered again. It was a repeat of the first time. Never saw her again.”

Her heart was thundering in her ears. “You…” She couldn’t put her whirling thoughts in order to articulate any of the questions whizzing around in her mind.

“Didn’t have a sex drive before you.” His gaze moved over her pale face and wide hazel gaze. “What makes you different from the other women who have crossed my path? Why did you register for me? You came into my life and turned it upside down. It didn’t right itself when you left. I couldn’t move on even though I tried. I’ve learned my fantasies revolve around you. No one else will do.” His eyes narrowed. “I need my life back, princess. I have plans.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“I need to work you out of my system, to stave off this obsession once and for all.”

“And if you don’t?” She wasn’t sure why she was challenging him, or why she felt offended, terrified, and elated.

His fingers slipped from her hair. “For your sake, I hope I do.”

She stared at him in disbelief as he rested his cheek on the bedsheets and closed his eyes, clearly prepared to go to sleep after dropping an atomic bomb. “That professor…?”

“It was a pattern of hers. I got her fired once I was established.”

“You seemed so experienced when we…”

The side of his face she could see grimaced.

“No one with experience would have acted the way I did during your first time. I was wild, out of control.”

“But, you taught me everything I know.”

“Read your books to see what you fantasized about, read everything I could get my hands on about pleasing women to redeem myself after I fucked up your first time. Thank fuck, you got off on it. Ninety percent of women would have called the cops. I’m too big to let myself go like that. I knew better, but I couldn’t stop. I was rough as hell. You should have kicked me out, not asked for more.” He shook his head. “Fucking miracle you liked it. I was determined to make an impression, to tie you to me so you couldn’t dismiss me and go back to Baldwin.”

“You’re a diabolical ass,” she said, but her voice held no heat.

“I got the girl. All worth it.”

His words slurred on the last word. She stared at his profile, mind whirling, as she sensed him drift off. If she was in the same room as his college professor, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself from attacking the predatory bitch. The professor took advantage of a teen who was intellectually mature, but physically and emotionally, eons behind. She’d been with dozens of men and never been taken advantage of like that.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

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