Tell Me a Truth (The Story Series Book 5)

by Tamara Lush

  “Fuck, yes.” He maneuvered my legs together, pulling off my panties with urgency. He tossed them to the floor. I loved that he took charge and spread my legs wide. I pulled my sleep shirt up.

  “Take that off.” His voice was rough.

  I did. Now I was naked and he was fully clothed.

  His hands skimmed from my thighs, over my hips, up my stomach, and landed on my breasts, his touch raw and rough.

  “You. Are. Incredible,” he breathed.

  “Are you going to unburden yourself of these? Aren’t you warm?” He was still clothed, and I swiped my hand down his stomach and lingered on his zipper. I could feel his bulging erection, and I pressed the heel of my hand into him.

  “I might take my clothes off. Or I might not. I’m more interested in looking at you. You’re beautiful everywhere. Your face. These…” He pinched my nipples and I gasped. His hand moved between my legs and cupped me, then frustratingly, drifted to my thigh. “And I want to stare at you, here, but I’m trying not to. I fear I might come straight away.”

  “You can stare.” I shifted out of his grasp and opened my legs in a diamond, so my feet rested on his thighs. I was spread wide for him, and I skimmed my fingers through my wetness. I let my eyes half-close when my middle finger hit my clitoris. I was swollen. Achy.

  He swore. “How wet are you?”

  “Touch me and find out.” I spread my labia open.

  He groaned. Slowly, he teased his thumb over me, drenching his skin, and I gasped.

  “What do you feel like inside, Emma?” he whispered, dipping a finger into me. He sucked in a breath. “Oh, you feel as good as you look. Fucking perfect and tight.”

  I moaned and squirmed into his finger.

  He lifted his hand and put his finger in his mouth up to the knuckle, his eyes meeting mine. Caleb looked hungry, starved, and a little wild. I tilted my hips, wanting more of his touch. He leaned over and seized my mouth.

  “Can you taste yourself on my tongue?”

  I hummed in response and went in for another kiss. He moved toward my ear.

  “You taste so sweet, Emma. I want to lick you for hours. But I’m not going to sip—I’m going to drink you until you’re dry.”

  I widened my eyes, grinning. “Oh, thank God,” I breathed.

  He chuckled and sat up, folding my legs back into the diamond shape so that my feet rested somewhere near his cock. I could feel the hardness against my toes.

  “But not tonight. I’ll wait to go down on you. Because you owe me. Make yourself come for me. Touch yourself. I’m going to watch and enjoy, like you did with me.”

  Masturbating for Caleb wouldn’t have been my first choice for our first true, sexual evening together. I wanted more intimacy. But I also couldn’t pull myself away from his eyes, how they watched me stroke and play between my legs, how his demands and exclamations were low and primal.

  “Now spread yourself more,” he whispered. “Like that.”

  I thought he’d take out his cock and pleasure himself, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his hands on my open thighs and stared at me, his gaze alternating between my face and my sex.

  “Unbelievable,” he murmured.

  It didn’t take me long to come. It wasn’t the best, most earth-shattering climax I’d ever had with Caleb, but it was pretty hot. And a start.

  “Jesus, that was quick,” he whispered.

  “I’ve never been able to last long when you watched me.”

  “So we’ve done this type of thing before?”

  I grinned. “I’m not supposed to say. Sorry. My mind’s a little foggy, post-orgasm.”

  My legs felt rubbery. I unfolded them and loosely wrapped them around his hips, reaching for him with my arms. He leaned forward and sucked on my fingers, then dipped toward my mouth.

  “You are an amazing kisser,” he whispered.

  “Mmm,” I responded with a dreamy hum. When he complimented me, it was as if we were almost back to normal. Sure, he wasn’t calling me Emma doll like he used to, and his kisses were a little more reserved, it seemed. It was as if he was holding something back from me, but I could see why he would. To him, I was a near-stranger, one who had just masturbated for him on his expensive modern sofa.

  He groaned as I wrapped my naked body around him. “I feel a little out of control right now, after watching you come for me.” His voice was hoarse.

  “Good,” I responded.

  Because now I wanted to explore his body. Get reacquainted. Make him feel amazing. Get his cock in my hands—or my mouth—and feel him come apart.

  My hands went under his T-shirt and stroked the smoothness of his taut lower back. I shivered a little at the anticipation of feeling his bare skin next to mine. I felt my way around his belt until I reached the buckle.

  As I started to undo it, he rose and covered my hands with his.

  “No.”

  I stilled. “No?”

  “If I’m naked around you right now, I’m going to want to fuck you.”

  I grinned. “And that’s a problem…because?”

  “We’re going to wait. I want to wait. Need to wait.”

  I shrugged. “Okay. Well, if you’re fine with not having an orgasm right now, then I’m good. But there will be no guarantees in the morning, when we wake up next to each other and you’re hard. I’m sure I’ll attack you. By the way, I’m on the pill now. After Charlotte was born, the doctor—”

  He drew in a breath and interrupted. “Come here. Sit up for me.”

  I did, and he backed up so we were now both on our knees, me naked and him clothed. He raised his hands and I thought he would play with my hair, but instead he stroked my arms, then my cheekbones.

  “Emma, I’m sorry but I won’t be sleeping in your bed tonight.”

  I must have looked shocked because he started speaking fast.

  “Don’t take it personally. I don’t want to be put in a situation where we might have sex. The therapist wants us to wait, and I do, as well. And I’m not quite ready to spend the night next to you. Please understand. I’m trying to come to terms with some things, some thoughts, some unsettled feelings.”

  I still didn’t say anything. This was definitely not the Caleb I once knew. And what thoughts? What unsettled feelings?

  Instead of asking those questions, my anger flared. I was all of a sudden raw and emotional.

  “You used to love sleeping next to me. And I’m not just anyone. I’m your wife.”

  When the tears came, I launched myself off the sofa and ran to my room.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, we were back at the therapist’s office for an emergency session.

  Caleb sat next to me on the far end of the plush, brown loveseat. I’d hoped he’d sit in the chair, but he’d eased next to me and I was acutely aware of the heat coming from his bigger body. I wedged myself against the arm on the other side and stuffed a pillow in between us.

  I snuck a glance at him. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Today he was dressed up in a white shirt, dark blue tie, and gray suit pants because he was going into the office later for a meeting. Something about donating money to the hospital in Brazil where he’d been treated.

  “We’ve had a setback.” Caleb sighed.

  “Let’s see if we can work through it. Explain what happened,” responded Dr. Santamaria.

  I chewed on my lip. “We were getting along really well and were kissing and fooling around and then he rejected me.”

  “How did Caleb reject you?”

  I tapped my foot nervously. “I wanted to touch him, and he didn’t want me to. Which was okay. I respected that. But then I assumed we’d sleep in the same bed and he said he wouldn’t. Said he wasn’t ready.”

  Caleb looked at me with something like anguish in his gem-blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m probably being a baby. I want to be close to you. My feelings wer
e hurt. This shouldn’t be about me.”

  “She hasn’t spoken but five words to me since last night. Emma, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

  “I’m grieving the old you.” I started to sniffle.

  I’d been ready to continue my stalemate until he’d walked out of his bedroom earlier, wearing the conservative business clothes, his neck graced by a knotted silk tie. Corporate businessman catnip for me. My anger had tempered a bit on the drive over, because he finally looked like the Caleb I used to know.

  “Okay,” Dr. Santamaria broke in, “this is normal. Emma must grieve what she lost. And, Emma, Caleb does need to take things on his schedule. It all depends on his feelings and mood. He’s working through a lot right now. He probably isn’t going to respond exactly the way you want him to.”

  “What about my feelings?” The force of my words surprised me. “What about my anger over this situation?”

  “Yes. Your desires must also be taken into account. You have also suffered a loss.”

  An awful silence hung between the three of us. The dog, in the corner, snored loudly, breaking the tension. I smiled.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep next to her. I’ll be honest, I do.”

  “It’s fine to sleep next to her if you want. What’s your hesitation?” Dr. Santamaria asked.

  “Yeah, what is his hesitation? He didn’t hesitate to ask me to get naked,” I blurted.

  Caleb pressed his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple with his thumb. I knew this gesture; he made it when he was perplexed or troubled.

  “I’m confused and a bit unsettled by some of the fantasies I’ve had about her since returning. When we fooled around last night, I bit her. A little too hard, I think.”

  “Unsettled?” Dr. Santamaria frowned. “Fantasies?”

  “You didn’t bite me hard,” I protested.

  Caleb inhaled a ragged breath. “I’m worried that I’m going to hurt her.”

  I gaped at Caleb, my anger suddenly gone. Why would he want to hurt me? What had I done?

  “What? Is it because I’ve been silent since last night? You were never like this before.”

  The doctor held up a hand. “You’re in a safe space, you can talk about those fantasies, but I need to ask a few questions. Is Emma in danger? Are you angry? Do you want to harm her? Should you two be under the same roof?”

  “No. Oh God, no. Nothing like that. No. I’m not angry with her, at all. I totally understand why she’s feeling the way she does. And I’d never hurt Emma intentionally.”

  “Then, what? I don’t get it,” I asked, confused.

  He sighed and continued to address the doctor instead of looking at me. “I’ve been having really intense sexual fantasies about her. Crazy things, things I’ve never done with anyone. Thoughts of rough sex and tying her up and Jesus. Even slapping her while…while…” He trailed off, drumming his fingers on the cushion while looking at the ceiling.

  I grinned, a genuine expression. There was hope. “Caleb, those aren’t fantasies. Those are memories.”

  Now both Caleb and Dr. Santamaria looked disturbed. I exhaled and tried not to laugh. “Clearly, I need to explain. Caleb and I were once really sexually adventurous. We were into various, ah, things. We even visited a BDSM club once.”

  “What?” Caleb looked alarmed and shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. Not with my position in the company.”

  I nodded. “Yep. You did. I was writing an erotic story, and you suggested we go for research. You wanted to dominate me. You strapped me down on a bench and were about to flog me, but I stopped it.”

  “Holy shit,” he whispered. “I wanted that?”

  “Yeah. You loved it. All of it. Said I was the best, most daring lover you ever had.”

  Caleb scratched his jaw.

  I was grateful to Dr. Santamaria for staying silent while Caleb mentally puzzled through our relationship. “So, the other night, when you said I had access to every part of your body, that’s what you meant? We did…”

  My hands sliced through the air. “Everything. All of those things you thought you were fantasizing about? We did those things. Together. And more.”

  He stared at me hard. “I slapped you?”

  “I begged you to. On more than one occasion.”

  Dr. Santamaria arched an eyebrow, and I shrugged. “I like rough sex. Sorry. Not sorry.”

  “No, it’s great that you can express yourself so explicitly,” he replied.

  “I think it’s because I wrote erotica. You should hear some of the conversations I have with my critique partners.”

  Caleb gaped at me. “Did I spank you?”

  “Several times. So many I can’t even count. I loved it.”

  “Did I use, ah, vibrators and other toys on you?”

  I nodded.

  “Anal?” he whispered.

  I shrugged. “Of course.”

  Caleb cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. Dr. Santamaria clapped his hands together. “Well, even though these might be uncomfortable memories and not fantasies, for Caleb, because he doesn’t know how your relationship escalated, it’s actually a very positive development. His memory is returning, it seems. Just in unusual ways.”

  I held up a hand. “I need to make something clear. All of those things we talked about—the sex—that’s not what I want right now. I want Caleb and I to be intimate and loving. Like we used to be. The crazy sex was only one part of our relationship. We had a healthy, caring, wonderful partnership. We used to kiss a lot. We used to read in bed together. He’d give me foot rubs. I’d massage his shoulders in the steam shower. And we’d sleep in each other’s arms. When I was three months pregnant and having a lot of morning sickness, we went days without sex, and both of us were totally fine with that.”

  Dr. Santamaria cleared his throat. “Well, I can see that in Caleb’s mind, he’s mixing intimacy and sex. It’s something you’ll have to work on. Caleb, what do you feel when you have these fantasies about Emma?”

  Caleb shrugged. “Well, of course I’m turned on. I see her every day in her sexy outfits. Since Tara died, I’ve dated some gorgeous women, but Emma’s different than all of them. She’s stunning. I can’t stop looking at her. And she’ll be doing something normal, like cooking or playing with Charlotte, and bam! This thought of tying her to the bed and biting her thigh comes into my mind or an image of putting my hand on her throat pops into my brain, and I feel like a pervert. Or worse. A criminal. This has nothing to do with love, trust me.”

  “There’s no need to feel like a pervert on my account.” My heart sank at his words. Nothing to do with love. The Caleb I knew never used to be so blunt or thoughtless with his words.

  “I guess that makes me feel a little better. I wish I knew how you and I got to that point, that we did such crazy things.”

  Dr. Santamaria looked to me. “Emma? Would you care to explain?”

  I hesitated and put the pillow between us on the floor, then slid closer to Caleb. I had to work through this with him. Even if his only interest in me for the moment was sexual, even if he didn’t know he loved me. He would, eventually, I reassured myself.

  He angled his body toward mine, and our knees touched.

  “It’s…it’s difficult to say, Caleb. You and I had a sexual spark from the beginning. Things escalated and kept getting better and better. You were always respectful with me, so don’t think you coerced me into anything I didn’t want. In fact, a lot of the time, I was the one suggesting we try new things.”

  I reached my hand toward his, and he took it, intertwining our fingers. I stared down at our hands as if I didn’t quite recognize them together. How could he say that love had nothing to do with his memories or fantasies or whatever they were? Who was the man sitting next to me, holding my hand? I heaved out a sigh.

  The first thing I noticed when I looked up was Caleb’s blue eyes staring intently at me.

  “I want this to work, Emma. We need to keep try
ing. For Charlotte’s sake and for ours.” He squeezed my forefinger between his thumb and finger, hard. I gasped.

  “What?” he asked, squeezing again.

  “You used to do that all the time. With your thumb. When we held hands.”

  Caleb frowned. “I did?”

  I looked at Dr. Santamaria. “Somewhere inside his brain, he remembers. The way he’s touching my finger, how he’s squeezing it. He always used to do that.”

  The doctor nodded, a serious look on his face. He dipped his head to scrawl on a notepad for a few seconds before finally glancing up.

  “Our session time is up. I think you two are actually doing pretty well and are making some breakthroughs. I’d like for you to continue to escalate your intimacy. Even if you default to rougher play, try not to have sex yet. Why don’t we meet in a week?”

  I couldn’t help but notice how Caleb slung his arm over my shoulders as we walked out, and my heart soared when he leaned over and kissed my temple right before opening the car door for me.

  Chapter 9

  By nine o’clock that night, I was totally exhausted. Between the gut-wrenching, emotional rollercoaster of the therapy session and a fussy Charlotte who didn’t want to go to sleep, I was barren of energy and thought.

  Once Charlotte finally drifted off, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of sparkling water. I wasn’t sure where Caleb was; I’d taken Charlotte into her nursery and spent a half-hour with her in there alone.

  My insides felt jittery. Edgy. Standing with my back to the kitchen counter, the lights in our modern space low and moody, I inhaled and then covered my face with my hands. Maybe I needed time away from both Caleb and Charlotte. To think. An afternoon to myself. Go to the spa, read a book somewhere peaceful. Yoga class, even. My stomach felt sour. The stress was overwhelming.

  “You okay?” The low rumble of Caleb’s voice washed over me. I took my hands away from my face and nodded.

  “Yeah. I am. Just tired.”

  Caleb stood in front of me, wearing a red T-shirt that showed off his sinewy, muscular chest and faded jeans that revealed long legs. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he was barefoot. I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t. His words—this has nothing to do with love, trust me—had deadened a piece of my heart. I sipped my water.