SECRET Revealed (5 page)

“Mmm …” I said, my eyes closing as his hands loosened around my breasts, then slid down between my legs, plunging under the water. Would he be able to tell how wet I was? He let his fingers gather and tug my short hairs and it was all I could do not to scoop out of the water to give him easier access. I was so turned on by then, I was pressing him back into the tub. I
wanted
him. I let my arms drift up and wrap around the back of his neck as he teased and tickled me, both of his hands now spreading my thighs as wide as they would go against the sides of the tub.

As his fingers traveled along my folds, he sunk his mouth into my neck, his lips covering his teeth, sucking, kissing my skin hard. I felt devoured as two fingers slipped between the most tender parts of my flesh, then inside.

“
Ohh
,” I said, my back arching, the water between our torsos gently slapping. I raked my fingers through his thick black hair. His other hand massaged up my side, cupping my breast again, this time harder, more urgently, as his other hand worked me, his fingers thrusting a little deeper now, a
little faster. He would stop and circle as I engorged under his touch. His other hand moved from my breast and cupped me under my chin, turning my head slightly so his tongue could tease my ear. He was moving me this way and that and I had completely surrendered to him. Then he stopped what he was doing, shifting away from me, leaving one hand reassuringly on my back. I looked over as he pulled out a condom packet from beneath a stack of washcloths, ripped it open, then slid it over his hard cock.

“Turn around, Solange, so I can look at you when I fuck you,” he whispered.

With strength that surprised me, he lifted me out of the water and flipped me around, his magnificent erection just below me. I took a hand to guide him deep inside, sighing as he entered and pulled me in tight to him, holding me there as I felt him pulse deep inside of me, my legs wrapped around him. It was an exquisite sensation. Then he began to rock beneath me, his arms around my waist.

“Lean back on your hands,” he said. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”

I did so, both of us fixated on his cock easing in and out of me, slowly at first, the water lapping against the sides of the wide tub. His fingers had only to grace my clitoris, which was so fat I knew I could come like
that
.

“Mmm,” I said involuntarily, one of my hands grabbing onto his shoulder, the other holding the side of the tub until I could find and match his rhythm. His dark eyes on me were too much to bear. I threw my head back and
squeezed my eyes shut.
I cannot believe this is happening to me, here, in my own tub!

“Oh, Solange … you are so fucking gorgeous,” he moaned, thrusting into me, his thumb circling my clit, the muscles in his upper arm flinching with precise effort. We were splashing bubbly water between us and over the sides, extinguishing a tea candle, then another one. Then, leaning forward to cup the back of my neck, he placed his lush mouth next to my ear.

“Come for me, Solange,” he whispered. “I want you to come. For me …”

Then I felt it—my tense core melting, giving way. My legs braced the sides of the tub as it rippled out from my center through to the tips of my limbs. I fell back onto my hands, his gaze now ardent. He continued to push his cock up and into me, fucking me hard, while gently massaging my clit, a masterful combination that finally made the ache all too much to bear and suddenly I was letting go, I let it
all
go, and I came hard and fiercely, his pumping still relentless, as I moaned into the ceiling (Oh
yes, oh yes
 …) and he came then too (
Yeah, oh god!
), his whole body emptying into mine, and no one could hear us with the windows closed, not the neighbors out back on the other side of the pine trees, not the ones across the street washing their cars, not the pedestrians walking their dogs past my cozy house on State.

Gasping and spent, I fell forward, draping my wet body over his torso, my arms dangling over his back, pulling in breath like a drowning victim. He wrapped me in a tight
embrace, kissing my shoulder cap. We stayed tied in that damp knot for a few moments until my breathing subsided and the water began to cool. Then he carefully peeled himself away from me and stood up in the bath, water rivulets dripping down his magnificent thighs. He stepped out of the tub and unhooked my robe from the back of the door, hanging it from his fingers, inviting me in.

“Madame, your robe,” he said.

I stood up, feeling dizzy, a bit sheepish, happy.

I stepped onto the bath mat and turned around, putting my hands through the robe’s arms. He enveloped me with it and did the sash up from behind, rubbing my arms and sides vigorously to dry me.

“Thank you.”
Was that a silly thing to say?

As he bent to wrap a towel around himself, he said, “Check the pocket, Solange.”

I reached inside and pulled out a small purple box. Inside was my first charm, a golden raindrop in the center of a puffy cloud.
Surrender
was spelled out in cursive on one side, a Roman numeral one on the other. It was just like the ones on Matilda’s bracelet, and on all the bracelets the women at the Mansion had worn that day.

“Would you mind?” I said, handing him the charm. My heart was pounding.

“Of course,” he said, his talented fingers easily securing the charm to the chain.

I walked over to the vanity to get a look at it in the mirror.

“It’s lovely,” I said, dangling it in front of my eyes.

“As are you.”

I turned to face him. “Thank you, Dominic, for … tackling all these odd jobs. And for that …” I said, pointing to the tub. “Now what?”

“Well, now I suggest you rest a bit. And let me take care of that dishwasher and anything else you might want me to fix before I go.”

“I can think of a few things on my to-do list,” I said, throwing a shy smile at him from the mirror.

He plucked his clothes from the floor and left me standing very still in the bathroom, my legs quaking, the windows all steamed up.
I did it. I did something I’ve never done before: I just got laid by a beautiful young man I will probably never see again. And I’m … I’m proud of myself
.

I made my way over to my bed, peeled back the duvet, dropped my robe to the floor and slid naked between my cool sheets. Closing my eyes, I let my hand travel down to where I was just starting to feel a little sore.
Ow
. Wow. I heard him downstairs as he started and stopped the dishwasher. Then I heard the
plink plink
of tinkering and repairing.
Nice
.

Drifting off, I was thinking of at least one more thing he might be able to tackle before he left. Just one more thing …

I
t had all happened so fast. Something had told me not to bring Will to that S.E.C.R.E.T. charity event. But I didn’t listen. Something had also told me to pull him away from Pierre Castille the second he opened his mouth to reveal the truth of my involvement in S.E.C.R.E.T.—the sex, the fantasies, the men—using the vilest of terms,
slut, bitch, whore
.

But I froze in the dark corner of Latrobe’s that fateful night. I said nothing when Pierre told Will that S.E.C.R.E.T.’s mandate was to “use and discard men.” When Pierre spat out that I’d do that to Will, too, if he let me, it looked like Will believed him.

How many men, Cassie? How many? And since when?

Secrets and lies now surrounded me the way they’d surrounded his ex, Tracina, a woman who had convinced Will for the better part of a year that the baby she was carrying was his. It had been only a month since he heartbreakingly discovered that that wasn’t true, that the baby was the product of
her affair with Carruthers Johnstone, the once-married-now-separated DA she really loved. Not that Will had loved Tracina. He hadn’t, but he had so loved the idea of the baby. I had hoped our blissful reunion would help heal his wounds over that, but they were gaping once more, and I was the one who had ripped out his stitches.

“I–I’m sorry I never told you everything before, Will, but I was worried you’d react like this,” I stammered.

My hands on his chest, I tried to explain to him what S.E.C.R.E.T was about, what it had done for me. But he wasn’t listening. He was glaring at Jesse Turnbull, my ex-lover and now friend, who had come to find me, to see if I was okay.

“Was he from this year’s roster or was he last year’s model, Cassie?” Will hissed. “Maybe you’re into having
him
spank you too.”

Jesse took a step forward. He had already decked Pierre and I had no doubt that if necessary he’d do the same to Will.

“I’ve had enough bedroom drama to last me a fucking lifetime,” Will said before storming out of Latrobe’s, leaving me in a pile for Jesse to gather up and carry home.

And just like that, Will Foret was no longer in love with me.

On the way home from Latrobe’s, I was inconsolable. Jesse tried to explain that Will wasn’t rejecting me, he was rejecting the duplicity. I listened, watching the city smear past me in the passenger window. He pulled the truck up to the curb in front of the Spinster Hotel, shutting off the engine. He turned to face me.

“Want me to come up?”

When the love of your life tosses you over because of your past, it’s easy to imagine running into the arms of the man who accepts everything about you, especially when those arms are warm and taut and welcoming. But while I did invite Jesse upstairs, I didn’t so much as kiss him.

While he boiled water for tea, I slipped out of that awful, beautiful black satin dress and pulled on my sweats. While the tea steeped, I sobbed for a few minutes on the futon couch, pushing away my cat Dixie’s attempts to comfort me. Jesse sat beside me and listened. From time to time, he’d lay a reassuring arm on my forearm, telling me everything would be okay, that Will would come around, that I had done nothing wrong, and that I just had to be patient.

“You heard him tonight, Jesse,” I said, tossing another ball of spent tissue onto my coffee table. “He’s
done
.”

Jesse studied my face for an opening. He was going to be honest with me and I could already tell I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Well, here’s the thing, Cassie. I’m a man … and I’m thinking … after the year that guy’s had, I’d be scared too.”

“He’s not scared, he’s
pissed
.”

“Let me tell you something about men, Cassie. When we get scared we don’t show ‘scared,’ we show ‘angry.’ ”

Maybe there was some truth in all that, but I wasn’t ready to let Will off the hook, or myself.

“Nah. He’s thinking, ‘What a fucking whore, glad I found out now.’ ”

It was a tossed-off statement, but Jesse leaned towards me, peering into my face like a concerned doctor. “Why would you
say
something like that, Cass?”

“You saw him, Jesse. He hates me. He is repulsed by what I’ve done.”

“No he doesn’t, and he isn’t. He hates that the woman he loves has been leading some … I don’t know … strange, sexy double life … And he has no idea what to do about that but feel scared and threatened. You following me?”

“I am. I just … I’ve made such mess of everything. Will and me.
You
and me. I mean, why are
you
even here being so nice to me after the way I treated you?”

We hadn’t seen each other in about a month, not since the day Tracina’s baby was born, when it became evident that Will’s heart was mine, and mine his, and whatever I’d had with Jesse wasn’t going to amount to much more than sex.

“There you go again with the self-fucking-loathing. You need to cut that out, Cass. I’m serious. If Matilda was here, she’d slap those words right out of your mouth for good.”

“It’s true. I’m sorry.”

Jesse’s face softened, concern giving way to kindness.

“Don’t apologize to me. You never did anything wrong to me. Apologize to yourself.”

My eyes felt hooded and swollen from tears. I rested my head on my upper arm, outstretched across the back of the futon. I let my fingers glance Jesse’s shoulder. I looked at him through my damp lashes. Was I flirting? No. Maybe.
I was looking for comfort, connection. Jesse responded by moving close to me, then by placing a soft, sweet kiss on my temple.

“Bye, doll. You sleep. I’ll call you.”

If he had reached under my chin and drawn my mouth to his, would I have resisted? I think so. Maybe. No. Yes! Who knows? In truth, I had no idea what I wanted that night. But ambivalence, blurry lines, confusion and sadness, these were not aphrodisiacs to the men in S.E.C.R.E.T.

Jesse rose and stretched, his taut stomach peeking out from beneath his T-shirt. I had never thought I was a visual animal, but since S.E.C.R.E.T., I had discovered that I had been wrong about a lot of things.

Too tired to get off the couch, I waved good-bye to Jesse from my spot. He gave me his trademark two-finger salute and left, quietly shutting the door behind him. Then I glanced down at my arm, down to my glittering bracelet, the one covered with ten charms, each one loved and earned. Suddenly it seemed to weigh heavily on my wrist.