Whisper Through The Pain (A Novella) (5 page)

His former flame had left him twelve years ago to become a runway model. The bright light of fame was a powerful magnet he couldn’t fight. To be honest, he was glad he escaped while he had the chance. Today the woman had achieved the fame she sought. However, along with living the high-life came five divorces attached to her name.

The front door opened quietly and the petite silhouette of his wife stepped over the threshold, shutting the door with hurried movement. She reached for the light switch but he clicked the button on the lamp sitting on the end table beside him. She gasped, a slim hand going to her throat.

“Jake. You scared me.” She moved further into the room. “When did you get home?”

He didn’t say anything but continued to watch her progress. Her luscious sable hair was disheveled, and lying haphazardly around her shoulders. Gone was the ponytail. It looked as if fingers had been run through the heavy locks. Had Sinclair done that while he made love to her? Jake scowled and silently cursed at the thought.

There were dark hollows beneath her eyes as if she hadn’t slept in days. Her forehead creased into a frown. She nervously licked her lips—which were devoid of lipstick—and clasped her hands together. His wife, he thought with disdain, coming straight from another man’s bed. But he still wanted her—needed her—loved her.

The last time they’d made love hinged at the edges of his mind. He remembered taking her in the heat and insanity of lost control, devouring her in their bed amongst the tumultuous madness of tangled sheets, sweat, and raw sex. It’d been weeks since he touched her but it felt like years.

He grunted in disgust and pushed the thoughts aside.

“It’s after midnight.” He burrowed deeper into his chair, afraid if he stood, he wouldn’t last long on his feet. The scattered emotions running through him would be his undoing.

He spared a hard look at his wife. He was cynic and knew it. Women had always come to him easily and he took advantage of that fact. But Melissa had been different.

“I know,” she said.

He stared at her.

He hadn’t believed in the sanctity of monogamous relationships. Past encounters had colored his outlook on faithfulness. But when he met Melissa, he’d gladly given up serial one-night stands and cold relationships with women friends who knew not to expect anything from him. He made sure he left them completely satisfied sexually.

Regret stabbed at him and he didn’t like the feeling. He wasn’t a man to look backward. He didn’t try to sugar coat what he had been, a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but the past was the past and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change it.  But he had changed—Melissa had done that.

Jake stood, drained the liquor, and moved to fill his glass again.  He sipped at the liquid, waiting for the numbness to set in. It didn’t. The emptiness of the last few weeks nagged at him. He’d purposely distanced himself from Melissa. Partly because he was angry, but more importantly, he didn’t want to be around when he lost her. 

“You seem surprised to see me.” Jake placed the glass on the high end table, strolled toward her with his hands in his pockets.

“I am,” she said, softly.

Her chin was raised and her eyes were staring into his. He almost smiled at the defiant stance but not quite. Melissa always had a backbone and could be stubborn.

“I don’t see why. I do live here,” he said.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed since you made sure you were gone before I came down in the mornings.”

“Ah, you either missed me or you’re pissed. Which is it?”

She inhaled deeply. “That all you have to say—this isn’t a joke.”

“I don’t hear myself laughing, lady. Where the hell were you tonight?”

Surprise crossed her face, but disappeared as quickly as it came. Was it guilt? He watched as she composed herself. Now her face was blank of all expression, shutting him out. He felt isolated.

“I worked late.”

“And—”

“I went to dinner.”

“With whom?”

She paused. His heart flipped hard in his chest, causing the breath in his lungs to catch in an excruciating grip. Would she lie?

“With a friend.”

“Where?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why the third degree?”

He continued. “Man or woman?”

No more retreating behind a shield. The rules had changed. He was fighting to win, but he wouldn’t abide a lie.

She took a long breath and exhaled. “I had dinner with Brent.”

“Where?”

“His hotel.” Her voice was barely audible.

“In the restaurant?”

He waited.

His mind screamed, please don’t lie.

“No.”

His heart pounded and he exhaled the trapped air lounged in his lungs.  He crossed his arms, trying to appear relaxed and waited for her to continue.

“In his suite.” she said calmly, as if she’d been having dinner with a casual friend instead of her ex-lover who had also been her husband.

“I know.” He kept his voice cool and deliberate.

“You know?” She frowned. “What were you doing, having me followed?”

“Didn’t have to. I was there having a business meeting with a client.”

Her eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“How could I? You hurried to the elevator and got in with Sinclair before I could make my presence known.”

“I see.”

He walked to her, almost touching her. She stood still, not moving, as he got up in her face. Was she afraid of him now?  He steeled himself against the fear and misery that was trying to wrap itself around him. He let anger have free rein.

“Do you? The two of you were engrossed in each other. If the damn hotel caught fire you wouldn’t have known it. I could’ve broken his
motherfucking
neck. You’re lucky, lady, the elevator door shut when it did,” he spit out.

“What’s gotten into you?” She backed up and then moved away from him. “We had dinner—that’s all.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward him. “You were in a hotel room with your lover for hours and I’m supposed to believe all you did was have dinner.”

“He’s not my lover.”

He ignored her denial. “Then you come home disheveled, looking like you just rolled out of his bed.”

She wrenched her arm from his grasp. “That’s disgusting.” Her expression was a blend of hurt and shock. “I haven’t done anything to warrant your abuse.  I won’t stand for you telling me I did. Whose bed have you been sleeping in? Because it damn sure hasn’t been mine.”

“You expect me to sleep with the two of you?”

“You’re crazy.”

“By the looks of you, I know something happened. Did you fuck him?”

Emotion, silence and tension vibrated through the room. Only the loud ringing of his iPhone cut through it.

“It’s after midnight.” She glared at him. “Must be one of your whores.”

She moved to the opened door. 

“Don’t walk out on me. We haven’t finished.”

Without another word, she left the room.

“Damn,” he murmured, looked at the phone, and hit Connect for the overseas call.

Chapter Seven

Damn him! Melissa slammed the master bedroom door. Pissed, she mumbled as she removed her clothes, dropped them on the floor and walked toward the bathroom. Her body shook with unbridled anger. Who the hell did he think he was talking to her like that?  He was the only one who could ignite her temper to raging proportions quicker than a runaway house fire.

She wanted a bath to soothe away the tension but since it was late she would settle for a hot shower.

She ground her teeth. He was bull-headed and arrogant, but to accuse her of sleeping with Brent made her madder than hell.  

Granted, she hadn’t known what to expect when Brent told her they would be having dinner in his suite, but she knew no matter the circumstance or situation, she wouldn’t have forgotten her marriage vows. Although she’d allowed Brent to kiss her, she hadn’t been tempted to sleep with him. Jake should’ve known that.

Why would he, she asked herself. Since seeing Brent in Jake’s office, she’d been off-kilter—confused and unsure of what she was feeling. Damn. She expected him to understand, to give her room to sort it all out, not to brand her an adulteress.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her body and returned to the bedroom. The door opened. Jake entered, newly showered and wearing the bottoms of a pair of pajamas only. Hell, if he didn’t look good. It had been weeks, hell, close to a month since they made love. She looked past him at the wall to keep him from seeing how his presence affected her equilibrium. He appeared relaxed and self-confident, but she knew better. He may be confident, but he was far from relaxed. He moved like a lion, silently stalking his prey.

Melissa tried to ignore him and moving to her dressing table, grabbed the lotion, and sat to apply the lavender cream to her arms and legs, making sure to keep the towel in place. Her nerves were stretched to the limit but would be damned if she would let him know it. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, watching with his arms crossed.

“What do you want, Jake?”

“We’ll now continue our conversation,” he said.

“I’m tired.” She placed the lotion bottle on the makeup table, stood and reached for the robe on the back of the chair. She turned away and silently started counting. She slipped her arms through the satin sleeves, dropped the towel and belted the robe. When she reached the number fifty, she turned and faced him.

“Not tonight. Please leave. I’m getting ready to go to bed.”

“So, am I.” Coolly, he unfolded his arms and moved to his side of the bed.

“You’re not sleeping here, Jake.”

“Watch me.” He threw the decorative pillows to the floor, and pulled back the comforter and sheet. “We’ll no longer sleep in separate rooms. From now on, we share a bed.”

She raised her chin. “You want to sleep with a woman who just came from another man’s bed?”

“What the hell are you saying?” His tone was hard.

“You asked if I fucked Brent.”

“Did you?”

“
Fuck
you, Jake!”

The silence was a heavy dense fog.

Melissa sighed wearily. “If you want the bed, you can have it.” She hurried toward the door, but he stepped in front her.

His cold, gray eyes bore down on her. “You rushed to take a shower. Why? To wash the scent of Sinclair from your body?”

“I’m tired of this.” She stepped back. “You’re insane. How many times do I have to say it? I. Didn’t. Sleep. With. Brent.”

“You expect me to believe that?” He laughed cruelly. “His cologne is all over you.”

“We greeted each other. I’m sure you saw that in the lobby.”

“Yes, I saw it. It looked like the two of you could barely wait for the bedroom.”

She trembled with anger. “You’re disgusting. You are reaching. Maybe it’s to cover your dirt. ”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You came home covered in a woman’s perfume.”

“So is this payback.”

“That’s your MO not mine.”

“Something else happened and I want to know what it was.”

“I won’t stand for you cross-examining me
. I’m going to tell you this once
and I won’t speak of it again. Brent and I had dinner. We talked. We hugged each other good-bye.”

“Did you kiss him?”

“We were married and friends for a long time.”

“That’s no damn answer.”

“That’s the only answer you’re getting.”

Anger still boiling inside her veins, she refused to give him a definitive answer. Let him stew about it.

“You’re my wife, Melissa. Not his. I don’t share.”

“But I’m supposed to share you with other women, is that it?”

“It was never an issue until you changed the rules.”

“So you admit to sleeping with another woman.”

“Now who’s doing the cross-examining?”

“I won’t overlook infidelity, Jake.”

“I won’t either.”

They stared at each other for a long time. Neither willing to back down.

She took a deep breath and then planted her hands on her hips. “I kissed Brent. It happened. I can’t change it. Maybe it was reflex, the past, memories, I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to pay the rest of my life for it. I need space. Please move out of my way.”

His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t identify and as quickly as it appeared it was gone. He might be able to pretend what they shared these last few months was nothing more than good sex—damn, it was great sex. She’d made a mistake with Brent. All she had to do was make her husband believe it.

Before she could ask him again to move, he scooped her into his arms and walked quickly to the bed.

“Jake,” she yelped. “What are you doing?

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“This isn’t going to happen,” she said as he dropped her unceremoniously on the bed. “I’m not having sex with you. We have too many unsolved issues. Sex won’t make them go away.”

“We’re not having sex,” he stated.

“Good.” She scrambled to leave the bed but he stopped her.

A voice strained and rough with need that was barely audible said. “I want to make love to you. I’ve been without you too long, baby. I ache.” He stared down at her for along moment. “I haven’t dishonored my marriage vows.”

She swallowed with relief.

“I’m asking for one night. One with no barriers, accusations, or who’s right or wrong. Will you give me that?” he said.

“It won’t change anything. There’s no trust between us. At one time I thought we had that, but we don’t.” She ran a weary hand through her tangled locks. “You accused me of cheating on you. If you don’t know what kind of person I am, what do we have?”

He threw a furtive glance as he stood staring down at her with his hands at his waist. It made her uncomfortable so she swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood. Moving toward the dressing table, she kept occupied arranging the bottles of lotion and creams into neat lines.

“Will you please look at me, Melissa?”

She turned and faced him.

He pierced her with his gaze. “We are married. It’s a partnership. I thought we also had trust. Then an ex-husband, who I knew nothing about, shows up.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about Brent.”

“I agree.”

Exasperated, she threw up her hands. “I’m finished with this conversation.”

“Bullshit. I’m not. I want to know why it’s taken you weeks to remember you’re married.”

“Damn, Jake. You’re like a dog with a bone. No matter how many times I tell you to let it go, you won’t. I’ve tried to explain but you won’t listen. How many times do I have to apologize?”

“I don’t remember you apologizing previously.”

“Alright! I apologize. I’m sorry! For keeping my previous marriage a secret, for kissing Brent, for having dinner with him. Satisfied? But it’s my past not yours. It had nothing to do with you.”

He moved toward her. “Nothing to do with me? The hell it didn’t. I made some missteps here. One, I gave you the space you needed. That was my first mistake. Secondly, I sat back and waited for you to make a decision. Third, I let you be in charge of the situation. No more. You belong to me and it’s time you realize it. I’m putting my foot down—”

She laughed. “Your what?”

“You think it’s funny?’

She regarded him silently for a long moment. Never had she seen Jake act this way. He was normally so cool, confident and unmovable, when it came to emotions.

She approached him and placed her hand to his cheek. He stiffened. A smile almost crossed her lips when his eyes widened at her gesture. But he quickly averted his gaze, not letting her see anything beyond his mask. She’d never made the first move in the entire time they had been together. Never. Not a kiss, not a touch, nor had she initiated their lovemaking. The fear of rejection had stopped her. She surprised herself as she stroked his jawline. With boldness she ran her fingers across his firm lips. His breathing ragged, she felt it caress her hand, warm and moist.

Strong fingers fastened firmly on her wrist, stopping her progress. His eyes temporarily lost their fierceness. His expression was softer—but nonetheless dangerous. Melissa realized a battle was warring inside of him.

“You ask for so much sometimes, loyalty, trust and straight answers. Everything isn’t always black or white, Jake. But then there are times you ask for so little. I wonder if I’ll ever really know you.”

“There’s where you are wrong, baby. You know me
very
well.”

With that said, he placed his mouth over hers. Momentarily, she was paralyzed by the raw power of the kiss.

He lifted his head, his glittering gray eyes roaming her face. An intangible thread of something—was it sadness or pain? She couldn’t tell. Then everything changed. Had she imagined what she had seen? Then the hard lines of his face spoke of a man who was in in charge once again. He kissed her hard, this time with possessiveness. She fought to breathe. A flush of heat suffused her body. Despite the misgivings that plagued her about their marriage, she leaned into him, seeking his warmth. He groaned and deepened the kiss. She felt herself being lifted, her robe falling around her shoulders, and then she was straddling his thighs. He laid her gently on the bed, his mouth still fused with hers. Their tongues met and tangled in a battle for ownership. He moved slowly as if he had all the time in the world to accomplish his mission.  He was the only man she knew who treated kissing like it was the most important element of loving.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his lips sliding apart in a slow movement. His lips glided lightly over her cheek, her eyes, her nose and then her temple. Her breath caught at the softness—tenderness of the gesture. The moment was suspended in memory. It said he’d missed her. She also missed him—the connection—the fierce passion. Coolness hit her skin when he removed her robe, leaving her bare to his touch and eyes.

“Jake,” she whispered, the quietness around them feeling almost peaceful.

“It’s been too damn long.”

“Aww, Jake,” she squirmed when he captured her nipple.

“Shh.” He gave her gentle, lingering kisses all over her breasts, neck and face between words. “I want us both to enjoy this. We won’t if you continue to touch me. I want you too bad. I’m afraid I have no control, sweetheart.”

Jake Sorenson was a tough man. He didn’t show emotions or speak of what he wanted; he just took it. For him to admit he needed her was telling in itself.

Sheila had warned her when her and Jake’s relationship was new that he didn’t do cozy and sensitive episodes with women. He was very candid and to the point about what he wanted without having to say much. He could be critical without remorse. Whatever anger he was feeling hadn’t abated his desire at all.

She grabbed his head, bringing his lips to hers once again. He let her be the initiator for several minutes but she knew it wouldn’t last. Allowing her tongue to tease his, she felt the gesture surprised and excited him. She tunneled her fingers through his gorgeous hair, pulling him to the heat. The pressure of his hard penis pushed at the wet opening of her vagina. When had he discarded his pajamas bottoms? She inhaled deeply, clawing at his back, trying to make him complete the act. He held her hips in place.

Melissa felt the powerful rawness touching her clit. All she knew was that she wanted him—now. With Jake, sex was wild and free. Their need for each other was predatory in nature, hot and explosive. He lifted, moved her further up on the bed and opened her legs, wide.

His hands were everywhere initiating emotions she didn’t think were possible. Lost in a haze of pleasure, she almost blurted out that she loved him, but she couldn’t. He wouldn’t believe her—at least not now but soon. First, they had to clear the obstacles in their path.

Masculine fingers caressed her opening, circling her clit folds before moving to mold her breasts and pluck her nipples.

Raw sounds of need slipped from her mouth to his. Her body shuddered at the sensation, sharp talons of sexual thirst gripping tightly and making her muscles strain with release.