this, dressed in all black street clothes, touching myself while she sleeps. I can’t. So just like earlier on the roof, I step back into the shadows and watch her without breathing, hoping she’ll just drift back to sleep.
But she doesn’t.
She looks over at my side of the bed and I’m not there, her entire body stiffening with fear. “Christopher?” Her sob almost rends me in two. “It’s dark. Where are you?”
I can’t stand her fear for another moment. As fast as possible, I strip down to my boxers and attempt to even my breathing. Go from feral to normal. Normal, like she wants. Needs.
“Sorry, angel eyes,” I say, stepping into the moonlight where she can see me. Her body collapses back onto the pillows, hand to her heart. “I went to get a drink of water.”
The lie burns in my gut. I hate myself for being untruthful with this loyal, honest, courageous woman. It gets worse every time.
She’s given you a conscience.
“S-sorry,” she stammers. “I shouldn’t be freaking out. It’s silly. You should be able to walk to the kitchen at night without me having a panic attack.”
“No,” I say firmly, crossing to the bed. “Hey. There is nothing silly about you. Or what you went through. I should have been beside you. I’m sorry.”
She really has no idea how much.
I get into bed and pull her up against my chest, groaning inwardly at the pure decadence of her body molding to mine, her leg draping over my hip. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The day we met, Jolie told me she’d been kidnapped by a co-worker. I know the full story from the news and her therapy sessions, but I’ve never pushed her to elaborate for me. Probably because it felt extra deceitful, asking her for painful details I already have. Why would I want to put her through that?
Now, however, Jolie nods into my neck. “Yeah…I think I want to talk about it a little bit. Maybe the self-defense class gave me even more bravery than I realized.”
I tug her tighter against me, stroke her back. “Say whatever you want to say. I’m here.”
Her warm breath fans my throat. “Sometimes I feel guilty. About everything that happened to me.”
Above her head, my frown is ferocious. “Why would you feel guilty?”
“For not fighting harder. I was too scared, but I should have sucked it up. I should have fought and…I should have recognized earlier there was something wrong with him.”
A swallow sticks in my throat.
Heat swamps me.
There was something wrong with the man who kidnapped her.
There is something wrong with me, too. I’m…a stalker. I stalk this woman.
My wife.
Someday, she could be saying these exact words about me.
“There had to be warning signs I didn’t recognize, right?”
“I don’t know,” I choke out, my right eye twitching. “Sometimes monsters hide in plain sight.”
“Yeah…” she hedges, tracing a finger along my collarbone. “I guess so.”
“I do know you can’t blame yourself for not fighting,” I say, sincerely. “You survived. That was your job—and you succeeded.”
Sighing with gratitude, she snuggles into me. “I’m tired of talking about myself. It seems like that’s all we ever do. When we’re not…you know.” Her laugh is breathy, uneven. “I want to hear more about your childhood. College. Your parents. Your friends.”
“I told you,” I respond lightly, kissing her temple. “My parents passed away, my friends are scattered around. Seattle, Texas. Hell, I can barely keep track. Someday I’ll take you to where I grew up in Utah. We’ll make a whole trip of it.”
Lies.
More lies.
“You’ve never even shown me pictures,” she says, quietly. “Why is that?”
I force myself to stay relaxed. To stay afloat among the alarm and guilt.
Jesus, only tonight I worried about this eventuality—and here it is. She’s starting to press, starting to expect more from this man she married impulsively.
I distract her the only way I know how. The only way I know will succeed.
I take my wife’s hand and place it on my stiff cock. “I’d rather talk about why you haven’t done anything about this yet, little girl.” Next, I take frame her jaw with my hand, applying a small amount of pressure, tilting her face up to mine. “Daddy is getting impatient.”
Her breath hitches.
There is something in her eyes, a new curiosity that tells me she sees through my attempt to distract her. I’m worried she’s going to voice her concern and lean in to kiss her before that happens, but her hand strokes my dick and