“I’m sorry.” I rolled away, suddenly chilled by the gulf I felt growing between us. “Really. Never mind.”
“Shit.” I heard him exhale, then felt the press of his hand against my shoulder. “Shit,” he repeated, this time more softly. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He drew in a breath, and the irony of the situation—me naked and bound with a plug in my rear while we discussed another woman—really wasn’t lost on me. “I don’t want to have secrets from you.” He eased me over so that I was facing him again, and the intensity I saw in his face nearly did me in.
“But I do have secrets,” he continued. “I won’t lie to you. But I want to start chipping away at them. So let me start by saying that I don’t pay Michelle, but I do fuck her. Or I did. I haven’t touched her since you. Haven’t wanted to. Haven’t needed to.”
He looked at me, and I felt that sweet ping in my heart. “Really?” The word tasted like hope. More, it tasted like love.
“I told you, Kat. You fill me up. It may take some time for me to figure out what that means, how it manifests. But I know that it’s true. Can you be patient, baby? Can you let me find the words my own way, in my own time?”
“I can,” I said, because at the heart of it the past didn’t matter. The Cole I’d fallen for was the one I saw in front of me. All the rest was just backstory and gossip. And all of that could wait.
twenty
“Cole?”
“Mmm.” He sounded far away and yet right beside me.
“Before you fall asleep, do you think you could untie me and, you know, all the rest?”
I heard the low rumble of his chuckle. “I don’t know. It’s tempting to just keep you like this, bound for my pleasure, mine to take whenever I want.”
“I already am,” I said. “You don’t need the ropes for that.”
I saw the emotion in his eyes in response to my words. And when he removed the plug and gently untied me, I thought that I’d never known anything more erotic than the simple experience of being tended to by this man.
Once I was unbound, we lay atop the covers, legs twined so that we were facing each other. I traced my fingertips over his chest, enjoying the way his skin felt against mine. “Thank you,” I finally said. “For showing me this. For showing me that I like it, too.”
“Oh, baby.” He brushed my cheek, and though there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice, I couldn’t help but see the storm clouds in his eyes.
“What did I say?”
He sat up, leaning over in the bed as he took two long, deep breaths. “I’m glad you like it. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to give you pleasure.”
He stood up, then turned back so that he was facing the bed. I was sitting up now, wary because of the measured tone of his words. I wanted to beg him to explain what the trouble was, but I also knew that he would. He just needed to take his time, and I just needed to be patient.
“It’s not a question of like for me. It’s a need. A requirement. Hell, it’s my goddamn sustenance.” His eyes were locked on my face, and I don’t know what he saw there. Understanding? Maybe a little. Mostly, I wanted to simply hug him, because no matter what I did or didn’t understand, I knew that he was hurting. And all I wanted—all I would ever want again—was to see this man happy.
“I want to help,” I told him simply. “I want to understand.”
“I know,” he said. “I want that, too. I told you I didn’t want secrets, and I meant it. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t. I think the hardest thing I’ve ever done was tell you about Roger.”
“You’re stronger than me, Katrina Laron. But then again, I’ve always known that.”
“And that’s just bullshit,” I said. “Just tell me. No matter how hard or how horrible or how complicated, just find the beginning and start there.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then pulled me close and kissed me hard. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I scooted over to sit beside him, one leg tucked beneath me so that I was at an angle to face him.
“You have Roger living in the shadows of your life,” he began, his matter-of-fact words somehow managing to drip with pain. “I have Anita.”
I reached out and took his hand, then held it tight in mine. I said nothing, but I knew that he’d continue when he was ready.
“I didn’t think I’d ever talk about her. I wanted to forget her. To pretend the bitch didn’t exist.”
“But she did exist,” I said softly. “And even if you could forget her, it wouldn’t change whatever she did to you. But it helps to talk about it.” I managed a small, supportive smile. “In case you were wondering, I have it on good authority that talking about childhood shit with someone you care about helps a lot.”