The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7) (37 page)

“Christ,” he murmured, closing his eyes and tipping his head back as he enjoyed my administrations. “That feels good.”

With a smile, I sprinkled a little loving across his chest and down his stomach. He sucked in a breath when I reach the V at the base of his abdomen. I grinned up at him and he blew out the breath he’d just drawn to let me know I was torturing him.

Keeping eye contact, I slid my fingers around the base of his cock and lifted it from his stomach, then I leaned in to take the head between my lips. I watched his eyes dilate as the salty flavor hit my tongue.

“Holy...” he tried to say and then gave up. A droplet of sweat slithered down his temple.

Not taking my gaze from his face, I sucked him in deeper until he hit the back of my throat. His lips parted and he couldn’t seem to do anything past breathing as I drew him in an inch deeper. I still couldn’t take all of him, but that didn’t stop me from pulling and drawing him back in.

“God,” he gasped, his eyes fixed on mine only to occasionally drift to my lips still wrapped around him, and then return to my eyes again.

I fondled his sack for a few seconds and his scrotum tightened under my tender loving care. He was getting close. But I didn’t want him finishing in my mouth.

When I pulled off him, he groaned but didn’t argue. He only watched, his eyes heating as I picked up the condom box, which was way more than half empty by this point.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as I rolled the prophylactic over his massive length. I knew he had to mean it, too, because he had no idea I could understand every word he said.

Instead of facing him, I turned my back to him as I straddled his lap. He hummed his approval and tried to lift his lap before I was ready. So I set a hand on his hip, restraining him to the bed, and twisted with a warning smile as I shook my fingers at him.

“Okay,” he told me, breathing hard as another trail of sweat rolled off him. “I’ll behave, I swear. But fuck, I love this game.”

I laughed, loving it myself. Then I grabbed hold of him and positioned myself above him so he rubbed up against the opening of my anus.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” His voice was high with surprise and an overload of lust. “This is too good to be true.”

But at the last second, I glanced back at him, winked and moved him to my pussy. “Damn, you little tease....” But the word tease came as a groan because that’s when I sat on him, impaling myself completely. “Shit. Okay. This way’s not so bad either. Fuck.”

I threw my head back and laughed as I rode him. He cursed some more, and I started spouting shit off in Spanish because I just couldn’t help myself. When I began to contract, squeezing an intense orgasm out of me, he shouted his own release and surged up his hips.

As soon as we finished, I crawled off him and took care of his condom for him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, eyeing me as if I’d handed him a million bucks or something. Then I curled up next to him and rested my head on his shoulder so I could look into his eyes.

Neither of us mentioned taking off the handcuffs yet. I think we both equally liked being this way. His lashes fluttered, telling me he was getting drowsy. I smiled and stroked his jaw, and his lips tipped up under the caress.

“You don’t know this yet,” he told me, his voice full of sleep. “But I’m going to keep you. We’re going to make this work, language barrier or not. Because nothing has ever been that amazing.”

His green eyes were full of so much sincerity, I had to close my own and press my face against the side of his neck. “Te amo,” I told him, ashamed and guilty that I couldn’t confess it in English, that I couldn’t confess anything to him.

I didn’t deserve this wonderful, amazing man. Everything I’d ever had with him was founded on a lie of my own making and he should have more, so much more than that.

“Ya no puedo hacer esto,” I admitted, because I
couldn’t
do this to him anymore. He’d just closed his eyes as I crawled off him, needing to go, needing to escape before I burst into tears.

Behind me, he mumbled, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” as I quickly tugged up my panties and grabbed my bra.

I couldn’t face him, couldn’t say anything. So I rushed faster to escape.

He tried to talk me into staying, even came up with the worst pronunciation for the words
sit
and
stay
known to man.

“No! Don’t go. Please, don’t go. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sorry. Shit,” he muttered, as if he thought he was messing everything up and didn’t know how to make it right. “What’s sorry in Spanish?”

I told him, not that he knew that was what I was doing. He just kept begging, kept trying to coax me to stay, which only made me feel worse for every lie I’d ever told him and made me more determined to flee.

Wiping back tears, I finally stopped at the door and glanced back. He blinked as if stunned to see me crying. Then he whispered my name...the wrong name, and I blurted, “I’m so very sorry, but I have to do this,” in Spanish before I heaved myself into the stairwell and sprinted up the steps.

Once outside in the cool day, I jogged to my car, blocks away, where I’d left it the day before. Tears blurred my vision as I started the engine, but I kept going anyway. I made it all the way home before I realized—shit—I couldn’t just leave him handcuffed to his bed.

So I dug my phone from my purse and called him. I knew he wouldn’t be able to answer, but I figured “Sticks” could try getting hold of him, and then drop by his apartment to check on him, make sure his dad hadn’t killed him or something.

And fuck, now that I was thinking about his dad, I cursed myself. What the hell had I been thinking to trap him to one spot when his psycho father was still on the loose? What if his old man found him like that, and hurt him? I
had
left his apartment completely unlocked.

I was about to hang up and rush into my room to change into my Sticks gear when Asher actually answered, surprising the hell out of me.

“Hey, man,” he answered, sounding breathless and yet casual, as if he wasn’t trapped naked to his own bed. “What’s up?”

Okay, so maybe he’d gotten loose already.

“Not much.” My voice sounded stiff to my own ears. I wasn’t sure how I was doing this, why I was still playing this off as two different people. I just wanted to end the charade, and yet the consequences of my actions remained too big for me to face. He was going to hate me so much.

“I...” I had to pause and clear my throat. “I was starving and thought pizza sounded good for lunch. Want to come with?”

“Sure,” he answered, still mentioning nothing of his predicament, but I knew he was going to have to tell me...soon...if he was still trapped, anyway.

“Cool,” I said. “I’ll swing by and pick you up in a bit, then.”

“Sounds good. But, uh, quick question first.”

Great. Here it came. “Okay,” I murmured, bracing for his take on what had just happened.

But after a small hesitation, all he said was, “You don’t happen to have...handcuff keys, do you?”

“Um...” Damn, I wasn’t ready for that question, and it was probably the most logical one for him to ask. But I didn’t have the keys. I didn’t even know where they could be.

“Never mind,” he said suddenly. “I know I have some here. Somewhere. Could you just...come over and give me a hand?”

“Of course. I’ll be there in less than twenty.”

I hung up on him before he could say anything. And I made it back to his place within fifteen minutes, my mask, fake torso, and man panties firmly in place.

When I parked in front of his apartment entrance, I cursed myself again for leaving his door unlocked in my escape. His father could’ve just moseyed right on in and hurt him. A little scared his dad
had
beaten me here, I rushed to the door and immediately called, “Asher?”

“Down here.”

Relief sagged my shoulders and I took the steps two at a time. He’d managed to use his legs to cover his lap with sheets, but I’d forgotten just how very exposed I’d left him.

But...holy damn. The boy was pure art. My mouth watered as I remembered everything we’d done together on that bed.

Except the wary way he watched me and the blush climbing his cheeks because he couldn’t conceal more of himself from his gay friend shoved me back to reality.

He opened his mouth, probably to explain, but I held up a hand. “I’m not even going to ask.”

The air rushed from his lungs before he gratefully murmured, “Thank you.”

I nodded. “The only question I have is, where do you think the key is?”

“Fuck, I’m not sure,” he muttered, sounding pissed at himself. “But it’s got to be somewhere around that gift bag on the table.”

I hurried to the bag that had tipped onto its side and had crinkled tissue paper spilling out the top. After burrowing through the mess, I found the box the cuffs had come in and, yes, success! Two little keys were still inside.

I tipped the box so they slid out into my palm. “Found them!”

“Thank God,” he moaned as I turned toward him. But when I started toward him, this leery look crossed his features. His eyes were no longer full of trust and warmth.

It was the sharp slap of reality I needed.

“I’ll only be a second,” I promised as I hurriedly knelt on the mattress next to his upstretched arms and popped the key into the lock. After a small turn and click, he was free and yanking his arms down, grabbing more sheets to cover himself as he scooted away from me.

I backed off the bed to give him room. Then I watched as he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing before he rubbed his wrists. When I realized the skin was chaffed raw, I lurched forward.

“¡Oh, Dios mío! You’re hurt.”

But he held up a hand, warding me off. “I’m fine,” he snapped.

He so wasn’t fine. He looked defeated and lost.

“So...?” I asked, not sure what he wanted me to do now. Not sure what I
should
do. I jiggled my leg, trying to calm myself and failing.

He sighed and shook his head, not making eye contact. “So you were right. I shouldn’t have gotten tangled up with your cousin Elisa.”

My mouth fell open. I didn’t think he’d confess that to me, and for a startled moment, I didn’t know what to say. Then he lifted his face; he looked so guilty and apologetic, my own guilt and need to say sorry rose in my throat.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Well...I guess now you know.”

And maybe now he’d stay away from “Elisa” for good, though the very idea made me want to weep inside.

He shook his head, frowning. “Is that all you have to say?”

I glanced at him, not sure what else I could say, unless I blurted out some big long confession. Which, of course, I didn’t do.

He shook his head, obviously confused. “Aren’t you pissed I went behind your back and hooked up with her anyway?”

Blowing out a long, tired breath, I shook my head. “No,” I said honestly. I was actually very, very glad he’d hooked up with me, anyway. Our two nights together were going to be a few of the best memories I’d ever have. “I mean, like I said,
you’re
the one I was worried about from the beginning. If you wanted to go ahead after that and take your chances anyway, it’s...” Not sure how to say this or even if I
should
say anything, I mumbled, “Besides, I have a feeling you didn’t...instigate it.” When his eyebrows crinkled as if confused, I rolled out a hand. “I mean, I could picture you trying to stop and she just...pushed for more.”

He glanced away, refusing to talk about it. Honored that he hadn’t turned me into any kind of trashy locker room talk, even after what I’d just done to him, I glanced away too.

Mozart was still up in his cage, tipping his head to the side as he studied me. I wondered if he knew I was the same person from last night or not.

“If you don’t want to go eat now, that’s fine,” I said, hoping he’d decline. I needed a couple hours away from him to get my head back on straight.

But he said, “No. Let’s go. I need to get out of here for a couple hours.”

Guess he needed to clear his head as well. I wanted to ease his peace of mind more than I wanted to ease my own, so I drove him to the nearest pizza parlor because just then, I’d do anything for him.

We both ate quietly, lost in our own thoughts. He didn’t talk about what he was thinking or what he planned to do about “Elisa,” which I was grateful for.

When I dropped him back off at his place, he told me thanks before he climbed out of the car. Then he called me a true friend.

I felt numb after that. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep secrets, couldn’t lie, couldn’t lead a double life. He needed to know, and he needed it more than I needed to keep it from him.

It was going to hurt when he pushed me out of his life, but I was just going to have to deal with it. I just really, really didn’t want to be there when he learned the truth, even though it would be best if he heard it from me.

Tomorrow, I promised myself. I’d call him in the morning, and I’d tell him everything.