Secretly More (14 page)

His fingers found proof of her statement and she let out a whimper. “That’s true,” he replied in a gravelly voice Kimber could swear she recognized. Was it possible she already knew him? The answer was on the tip of her tongue, which he sucked on gently, bringing her curiosity to an end. There would be time for questions. They had all night.

He drew away and released a shaky sigh. “Ten seconds you’re in the room and this already isn’t going well.”

“What do you mean?” She found it hard to concentrate on his words as his fingers found her clit, already swollen in anticipation. On her end, things looked like they were going pretty damn well.

“Because we need to talk—like, really talk.” He drew laborious circles over her clit with his fingertip. “But I can’t stop touching you.”

She was well aware that he was completely right; she certainly had a list of questions that, written down, would rival the unrolling of some ancient Dead Sea scroll. But she whimpered and widened her stance, desperate for him to enter her in some way, be it via his fingers, tongue, or cock; she didn’t care, just needed him inside her. “I want you to touch me, though.”

At that, he wasted no time grabbing her hips and helping her perch next to what felt like a TV on the top of a long, nearby dresser. Then he peeled the dress up and over her head, leaving her naked except for her black open-toed shoes and sparkly Y-necklace.

“You look incredible right now.” His words were little more than a groan, and she wondered how he could see her in the darkness. Maybe the moon or the streetlights slipped in through the window and revealed her hard nipples, already mussed hair, and what lay between her open legs. Stepping outside herself and picturing her body like that turned her on more than she thought possible.

He moved away from her for a moment. “Will you touch yourself? For me?”

Kimber felt a momentary flash of embarrassment; she’d never even done that for Dane. Then again, she’d gotten so disappointed in his inattentiveness to her needs all across the board she hadn’t really felt like being so generous in bed after a point. But already this stranger had made her pleasure his number one priority every time they were together, and even though she was the one blindfolded, it lent her strength. Her lack of vision broke down her inhibitions and allowed her to pretend no one else could see either.

She kicked off her shoes and raised her knees, resting her bare heels on the dresser’s edge and putting herself on display for him. Then she leaned back, supporting herself with one hand, and brought her other hand between her legs. She traced her cunt’s opening with an indolent finger, finding herself wetter than she’d been during any of her other solo sessions, even the ones featuring My First Vibe, her new, battery-powered best friend. Using her own juices, she used two fingers to rub circles over her clit, whimpering at her own touch and at the sensation of being watched.

As she caressed herself, she heard the hurried rustle of clothed being removed and a foil package rip, a telltale sound that excited her more. He stepped closer, and for the first time she could feel he was as naked as she was. His body was lean but not too muscular—someone who made the effort to stay in shape but wasn’t obsessive about doing so. His cock, already wrapped in a condom, brushed against her thigh. “Keep going,” he commanded, his voice low and tremulous.

She obeyed, her cunt twitching in anticipation as he positioned the head of his cock at her wet entrance. Then he slid inside her in one deep stroke.

The unexpected feeling of being filled to the hilt so soon knocked Kimber backward with a gasp, and her shoulder blades pressed into a cool, smooth surface—the mirror. She let out an elongated moan as he slowly pulled out then pushed back inside with a vigor that left her breathless.

As he continued the intoxicating rhythm of a swift, hard penetration followed by a measured withdrawal, she rubbed her clit faster and pushed her hips at him, needing more. He increased his speed, his breathing turning shallow and erratic. The idea of him nearing climax to her body’s effect on him brought her closer to her own release, and she leaned farther against the mirror to raise her pelvis and meet his thrusts.

“Oh Christ,” he breathed out. “I want to make you come so bad. Come for me.”

Kimber cried out toward the ceiling and arched her back, contracting around him like she’d never stop. She felt him stiffen as he came, and she slumped against the mirror, exhausted and satiated, whimpering from the lingering aftershocks of her orgasm.

Still buried inside her, he lifted and carried her to the bed a few feet away. Then he rested atop her and tugged softly at her lips with his own, and to her surprise, the reminder of Jay kissing her that day in the park sprang to mind. Even more surprising was that it wasn’t a disturbing thought. Instead, it comforted her, and she believed it to be a sign that she and her mystery lover had acquired the closeness and connection similar to the one she and her best friend had and in a short span of time. Hope filled her heart, and for several long, unimaginably delicious moments, the rest of the world ceased to exist and everything between them simplified. She was happy, he was happy, nothing else mattered.

Except for one little factor. “Do I get to know who you are now?” she asked, her mouth brushing his.

Silence followed, making Kimber wonder if she said the wrong thing. Then her anger flared. She let him inside her body, no questions asked. The very least he could do was tell her who he was.

“You deserve answers, and I want to give them to you,” he said finally. “But once you have them, we’ll never be able to get this back.” He drew what felt like a heart shape on her cheek with his knuckles. “Once you know who I am, this will all be over.”

“Why does it have to be over?”

“I meant the mystery, the excitement.” He reached between them and found her clit, making her sigh. “I know you love all that.”

“I do…” She groaned and rose to meet his touch. “But that doesn’t mean this situation isn’t totally unfair.”

He continued to play with her clit but said nothing, and Kimber, nearing her second climax of the evening, had given up on him saying anything at all. Finally, he kissed her neck, working his way to her lips. “You’re right. It is unfair,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning, I promise. Let’s just have one last night of this though. Please?”

“Okay.” Her breath grew shallow as her legs shook with her impending release. “In the morning. The truth.”

* * *

To say Jay awoke at the crack of dawn would be a lie, as he’d lain awake all night, staring at the ceiling while Kimber slept in his arms, quiet as a grave and drooling on his chest. He couldn’t believe he had the only thing he ever wanted and wasn’t the least bit pleased about it. This was a classic case if “be careful what you wish for.”

The sun’s first rays passed between the heavy curtains, and Jay forced himself from the bed and Kimber’s embrace. All the co-ed sleepover parties they’d had with their friends in high school had taught him Kimber slept like a coma patient, and that hadn’t changed. She didn’t once stir as he left the mattress, their island.

Jay raked both hands through his hair and watched her still form, wanting to cry. She’d wanted him to make her come and he’d done just that, which made him feel like a fucking god
and
a fucking asshole. As for himself, he’d wanted to meet her last night to finally tell her the truth, but he’d gone and fucked it up again. He couldn’t believe he’d been so weak. They’d soon be running pictures of his spine on milk cartons.

Part of him—the part he hated to admit to—knew he’d arranged this tryst, fully aware he had no intentions of telling her but fearing it’d be the last chance he’d ever have of being with her. Last night had been a goodbye. There was no way they could make something from this god-awful mess, and it was his fault. What was wrong with him? Why did he have to be such a stupid bastard?

Jay dressed with the speed of a man on death row approaching his impending execution. He cursed every decision he ever made; they all led him to this point. How could anything ever go back to normal between him and Kimber? How was he going to be able to look her in the eye now? There was no way.

He turned to Kimber, still sleeping, and wished more than anything that climbing back in bed, removing her blindfold, and kissing her everywhere until she awakened was an option. But it wasn’t and never would be, and the thought was so painful it was if his chest would crack open.

His hands shaking, he sat at the small table with the hotel’s pen and paper and scribbled Kimber a note using his left hand instead of his right, fearing she’d recognize his handwriting otherwise. Jesus, he couldn’t even tell the truth in an anonymous note.

But he could tell most of it. As quick as he could using his less dominant hand, he scrawled in the weak light:

I hate that I’m not there when you wake up and that I won’t ever be. You’ve no idea how much I want to make something work with you, but I know for a fact you would never love me with the blinders off. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you, but know I feel it, too, and I’ll regret hurting you for the rest of my life. I wish I had been brave enough to be honest with you from the start, but I was too weak to do the right thing.

I’ll always be thinking of you.

Don’t seek me out.

He laid the note on the table and, after one last look that nearly wrenched his heart out, left the room, ready to face the cold light of morning.

Chapter Six

Since waking up alone at the hotel, Kimber had been sleepwalking in a mediocre nightmare. Any minute now, she expected evidence to arrive that would explain his abandonment and decision were part of an elaborate sick joke. A week later, she still waited.

He’d
promised
. She’d believed him. Why not? Someone couldn’t possibly be so cruel to keep his identity a secret after all that—so she’d thought.

They’d spent the night in bed, in bliss, making good use of the king-sized mattress. Liberated by the lack of time limit and wanting to savor the last few hours of the unknown, Kimber had let her remaining inhibitions go, giving rise to a passion inside her she hadn’t known existed. Afterward, they’d lain beside each other, their limbs tangled as their mouths all but fused together to the point where they no longer felt like kisses but a way of life, and she’d wondered how it could ever
not
feel right.

Then came the morning, when she’d woken from a sleep that more closely resembled hibernation and read his note, and her optimism had morphed into a humiliation and disappointment unlike anything she’d ever known. She’d dressed in the wrinkled outfit she’d worn last night and left, embarking on her walk of shame through the hotel lobby toward her car, where she’d burst into tears, not caring who saw her. She’d never felt so used in her life.

Was it something she’d done? Of course it was—she’d let him have his way. What was wrong with her, not demanding or requiring to know who she was sleeping with? She’d all but asked for this.

She couldn’t decide which was worse—the pain and embarrassment of being betrayed in such a way, or the fact she’d never know who he was. Moquest wasn’t talking, said that it wasn’t his place. That he thought keeping an acquaintance’s identity under wraps was more important than her sanity was another slap to the face. Since when was Moquest so good at keeping secrets? His mouth was so big he could whisper in his own damn ear.

As Kimber built a sea breeze on ice in a highball glass, wondering if she would ever experience a full night’s sleep again, Dane shuffled toward the counter from between rows of slot machines, looking sheepish, unsure, and the worst she’d ever seen him. Dark circles ringed his troubled pale blue eyes, his long, wavy brown hair hung limply around his shoulders, and though he’d always been lean, he looked downright gaunt now, resembling one of the skeletons on his trademark Grateful Dead shirt. To think her coworker Alison commented on
her
looking like a zombie today.

Fantastic. She hadn’t thought the week could get worse, yet she was surprised to feel nothing but mild annoyance at his presence. Just a month ago, his showing up at the casino would’ve sent her head and heart into a tailspin, for better or worse. Now she barely recognized him or identified with the girl she’d been, wanting him so badly.

“Hi, bables.” Dane’s mouth twisted the way it always did when he was delivering bad news or waiting for her to make a decision that would further complicate his slacker lifestyle.

“Hey.” How she could know all his idiosyncrasies yet view him as a stranger? “What’re you doing here?”

“Visiting you.” He toyed with one of the many braided bracelets on his wrists. There were a few new ones she didn’t recognize, reminding her of their separate lives. “Is that okay?”