Romantic Secrets

by Monique DuBois

  No one can take care of my heart but me.

  It’s no use believing otherwise. And I was a fool to think that some stranger, some guy I’ve only met twice, could be the person who might actually hold my truth in his hand and not squash it.

  But they all squash it. It’s inevitable. And I was stupid to let him in as far as I did.

  Thank God it was only a momentary thing, probably brought on by the wine and his excruciating good looks. He hypnotized me away from my good sense.

  It won’t happen again.

  He’s staring at me in a way that, strangely, almost makes me want to cry. “Okay, then,” he says, as if my non-response is something final between us.

  Well, it is, isn’t it?

  I’ve made up my mind.

  “Thanks again for lunch,” I say in a formal tone as we head toward the door. I’m my professional self again, the consummate real estate agent. The businesswoman who plays her cards close to her vest, the reserved woman who no man can ever get to know.

  “You’re welcome,” he says curtly. “And yes, please do tell John Rehnquist that I would like a different agent to show me the apartment.”

  It feels as though he’s just sucker-punched me.

  He heads out the door without a second look back. As I watch him walk down the street, so tall and broad-shouldered, I resist the urge to chase after him.

  Even more so, I resist the urge to break down in tears.

  eight

  As I’m heading back to the office, I suddenly remember that I left my briefcase back at the penthouse. I catch a cab and rush over there, hoping to retrieve it, and then make it back to the office before John leaves for the day. He usually takes off early on Fridays. I want to tell him in person that I just blew the biggest deal of my life…of both our lives.

  Luckily, since Liam had walked off in the other direction, there’s no chance of running into him at the penthouse. Thank God.

  I take the elevator up, trying to fight off the waves of despair threatening to engulf me. I never should have let Liam take me to lunch. I should have kept it all business. What was I thinking?

  I want to kick myself for being so stupid.

  The door opens and I once again find myself in the foyer of the magnificent penthouse. Except this time, there isn’t a gorgeous man looking out the window. The room is quiet, bare except for a few elegant pieces of show furniture. My leather briefcase is sitting in the middle of the room where I’d left it. I head toward it.

  Then a man steps into view, startling me.

  Liam.

  He’s here.

  I stop motionless in my tracks.

  We stare at each other for a long, tension-charged moment.

  When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breaking the silence. “You forgot your briefcase. I came to retrieve it for you.”

  “Thanks. I came to get it myself.”

  Instead of turning toward my briefcase, though, he takes a step forward. He has a primal look in his eyes. My breath is sucked out of me. The air between us is charged with electricity. Without knowing what I’m doing, I take a step toward him as well. Then another.

  Suddenly, we’re in each other’s arms. His mouth finds mine, and I kiss him back hungrily, yielding to his embrace, yielding to this inexplicable thing between us. I’m powerless in its grip.

  He presses against me, and I feel an erection blooming in his pants, hard and stiff. This is a shock…but very promising.

  Very.

  I yank off his jacket feverishly, unable to stop myself. I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is that I’m consumed with heat, desire, and something else that I can’t put into words.

  I feel his muscular chest against me, and I run my hands up under his shirt. His abs are what I remember from three years ago: a chiseled eight-pack that takes my breath away.

  He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes are smoldering with heat. He strokes a piece of hair out of my eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he says huskily. “God, I want you.” He glances down at himself, and a wide grin breaks out on his face. “Hot damn. Look at what you just did. It’s a fucking miracle.”

  I try not to giggle. “I noticed. Maybe we should strike while the iron is hot?”

  “Are you saying forget the foreplay?”

  “Yes. I’m not taking any chances.” I reach down and stroke his hard length through his pants, which twitches against my palm.

  “No way,” he says in my ear. “I’m going to savor you. Savor this. Hell, this is something to celebrate.” He picks me up and carries me over to the couch.

  He pushes down on me and kisses me with such passion that my breath is sucked out of me. I whimper, unable to control myself.

  “My God,” he murmurs against my cheek. “I’m feeling something. Something strong and real.” He grabs my hand and presses it to his chest. “It’s not just physically. It’s here.” He pulls back and stares at me. His eyes bore into mine, searing me to the soul.

  “I feel it, too,” I whisper, surprising myself. But everything about this moment feels so real, so natural between us. It’s as if I’m being my true self for the first time…ever. And I’m not afraid.

  I stroke his face with both hands, looking into his eyes. Then I run my fingers through his hair, messing it up. It gives him a wild, animalistic look, which is perfect for this moment. He leans down and nips at my bottom lip, which causes me to moan.

  Then he’s undressing as quickly as he can, yanking his clothing off. I help him unbutton his shirt and inhale at the sight of his perfect chest. Then I help him push down his pants. His hardness is clearly outlined against the thin cotton of his tight, black boxer-briefs. This is a good sign. A very, very good sign. Not only is he still hard for me, but he’s growing. Getting bigger. He wants me, clearly. And God, how I want him!

  I start to tug off his boxer-briefs but he stops me. “No fair. You’re still dressed.” He slowly lifts my dress. I stretch my arms above my head to help him. He pulls the dress over my head, and his eyes widen as he takes in my sexy black lace bra. My full breasts are practically spilling out of it. This is a good thing, based on his reaction. He’s gazing at me like a starving man at a feast. He leans down and buries his head in my cleavage, cupping my breasts and pulling them close to his face. With a finger, he pulls aside one lacy cup and finds my nipple.

  I inhale as he takes my erect nipple in his hot, warm mouth. He sucks on the tip until jolts of electricity course through me. I buck upward, moaning. Then he pulls aside the other bra cup and sucks the other tip. I sigh as my core clenches tight at the feel of his wet mouth on my nipple. My breasts are so heavy, engorged with need. He cups them, kneads them, and groans at the sight of their fullness. Then he places one hand behind my back and lifts me gently upward so he can unfasten my bra clasp. The thin lace material falls into his hands, and he tosses it aside. Then he works his way downward, kissing my breasts, soft swell of my belly, and…lower.

  I gasp when I feel his tongue flick over the soft skin at the top of my panties. At the same time, his hand strokes over the mound of my pussy, and I feel myself clench with need and yearning.

  He finds my clit through the lace and begins to slowly knead it, pinch it. I buck upward as jolts of electricity course through my body, causing my legs to quiver and tighten.

  Holy hell, I want him. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I want to feel him deep inside me, thrusting, pushing…

  I’m so wet that my panties feel soaked between my legs. He reaches down to pull them off, and at the same time, looks up to meet my eyes. I stroke his hair, holding his gaze. There is nothing else in this moment but the two of us and our unspoken need. He wants me as much as I want him, and nothing is going to stop us this time.

  He pulls off my underwear with a quick, deft movement, and then kisses his way down between my legs, sending shivers over the length of my body.

  He spreads my legs, and then I feel his wet tongue flick deftly in
to my hot opening. I gasp and close my eyes, giving myself over to the experience.

  He probes in farther, creating sensations that I’ve never felt before. I’ve had men go down on me before, but not like this.

  Never like this.

  I arch my hips to give him further access, and he probes deeply, flicking in and out and over my sensitive bud.

  I moan and cry out, gripping his head fiercely as he works me into oblivion.

  Heat and pressure builds. He works me harder. I’m sopping wet, coating his face with my juices.

  He’s buried between my legs, bobbing his head. The pressure continues to build…

  Just as I feel as though I’m about to break apart and lose myself completely to him, something inside pulls back.

  I move away from him.

  I suddenly feel terribly vulnerable, and frightened. My heart races. I swallow a hard lump.

  I can’t do this. This is a new sensation, something I’m not ready for. It’s too frightening, too powerful. I gently pull him back up to me.

  I’m trembling all over and fighting back tears.

  He gazes at me with a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head and bite my lip.

  “Did you…come?” he asks.

  I shake my head again, swallowing hard against a sob. I close my eyes, feeling like an idiot.

  There’s a long silence, and then I feel him stroke my cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I understand.”

  My eyes fly open. “You do?”

  He nods. “You’re not ready.”

  Relief rushes through me. “Yes.” He gets it. He truly gets it.

  “It’s almost as though you’re a virgin,” he says.

  My chest squeezes tight. “Yes, that’s exactly it. That’s exactly how I feel.”

  “I feel the same way.” His eyes lock onto mine. “I’m scared, too. This is the first time I’ve felt something since…”

  “I know,” I whisper. “We can go slow.”

  “So you still want to try?”

  I nod wordlessly, my heart thumping in my chest. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. But if I ever want a chance at happiness, I need to find it within myself to let down my guard. I need to let go of the past.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm my shaking nerves and sudden urge to bolt.

  Stay put, Abby. Give it a chance. Be brave.

  Yes, this could end in disaster. Yes, it could all fall apart. Yes, there could very well be only pain and loss at the end of this road. But I need to do this for myself.

  I need to do it for him.

  He stares at me with such tenderness that I’m almost overwhelmed by it. Then he kisses me fiercely, with all the passion of a man who has found himself again.

  I can feel his girth pressing against my leg. He’s still firm and ready for me. I reach down and stroke its length. Holy hell, he’s huge. My fingers only curl halfway around the thickest part. He’s bigger than any man I’ve ever seen…or felt. I only hope I’ll be able to handle him.

  He lifts himself so he’s positioned above me. I move to accommodate him, spreading my legs.

  “See how much I want you?” he whispers hoarsely.

  I look down and see his cock quivering so close to my entrance. It’s thick and tan with a bulbous mushroom head. A bead of fluid glistens at the hole. I reach down and stroke it, spreading the sticky fluid over his head and down his length to the base.

  He groans and then presses himself down on me. I arch my hips and wrap my legs around his backside. He positions his round mushroom head at my slick entrance, and then parts my lips. I close my eyes and moan as I feel him push slowly into me, spreading me with his thickness.

  He goes slowly, carefully, but I’m filled with the sudden urge for him to slam into me, take me completely. I suddenly want nothing more than to be consumed by him. I grip his backside with my ankles and pull him closer to me. He slides through my slick folds with excruciating slowness, spreading me, inching his way in.

  “Please,” I gasp. “Take me. All the way.”

  “I thought you wanted me to go slow,” he whispers, looking down at me.

  “Not like that!” I gasp, writhing beneath him.

  He slams into me, and I cry out in relief at being filled at last. He groans loudly.

  “You feel so good. So tight and wet. Oh, God!” He begins to thrust, moving in and out of my slick, wet channel. I match his thrusts with my own, bucking up to meet him. We begin to move in perfect unison. Waves of pleasure roll over and through me, building with every long, hard slide into my body. Our breathing rate increases, filling the room. He’s banging into me fast and hard now, so hard that my breasts bounce and roll, but it’s still not hard enough to fill the aching need in me.

  I writhe against him, my loud moans filling the quiet of the room. With every thrust, the heat builds in my core. I feel myself tightening around him, clenching and unclenching.

  His hands are buried in my hair, and his breath is hot and hoarse against my cheek. My hands stroke over his firm, undulating back that is now damp with sweat.

  He thrusts deeper, pushing against my cervix. The pleasure builds. My legs quiver as my channel tightens and pulses around him.

  I gasp and cry out. His hands find my breasts and knead them, pulling them tightly together with every mad thrust in and out of my body.

  I’ve never felt like this before. It’s as if we’re one person, joined together in body and spirit. There is nothing but the two of us in this moment, our gasps and sighs, our bodies united as one, and the pleasure between us. There’s a completion that I’ve never felt before. He’s filling me on every level. For the first time in my life, I feel whole. I never knew what I was missing until this moment, with this man’s body joined with mine.

  A tear escapes my eye at this realization. I’m whole. And I’m his.

  It’s inexplicable, but it’s happening. And it’s real.

  He’s moving inside me with such fervor now that I’m unable to do anything but lie beneath him and accept his hunger, his power, and his need into my body. I grip his back, hugging him close, and hold his waist tightly with my legs. I’m fully open to him now, fully accepting him into the deepest parts of my being.

  For the first time ever, I feel safe.

  “Oh, God!” he suddenly bellows, and tenses. His neck muscles are taut, and his eyes are pressed closed. “Abigail! Oh, God, Abigail!” Hearing my name on his lips causes me to break apart.

  Waves of ecstasy crash over me, like a tsunami I didn’t see coming. At the same time, he unleashes inside me with a primal, masculine roar.

  I realize I’m having my first orgasm as my body shakes and quivers and clenches rhythmically around him. I’m squeezing him involuntarily, my body reacting as if it has a mind of its own. I turn myself over completely to the sensation: of the crashing release of pressure, the pulsating tightness of my folds milking his length, and the electrical currents racing through my body. As we both have our final release, our cries fill the room: his low and husky, mine high-pitched and animalistic.

  He thrusts a final time, and then collapses on top of me.

  His breathing is hoarse in my ear. Then I feel something wet against my cheek.

  I pull back to look at him.

  His eyes are filled with tears.

  And, I realize, so are mine.

  nine

  One month later

  To say that I made the deal of a lifetime would be understating it.

  Not only did I sell that magnificent million-dollar penthouse and get my commission, but I sold it to Liam Black.

  And not only did I sell it to Liam Black, but he asked me to move in there with him.

  “I know it’s happening fast,” he said to me, “but you’ve unleashed feelings I never knew I had. I can’t take a chance on you getting away from me again.”

  After our glorious lovemaking in that very apartment, we’d both stared at each other in wonder
. I’d had my first orgasm ever with him, and he’d had his first erection since his wife had died. On top of it all, I’d felt something deep and moving during our lovemaking, something I’d never experienced before.

  The only way to describe it is love. But I couldn’t tell him that just then. It was too soon. But I could tell he was feeling it, too. It was there in the way he looked at me that afternoon. And it’s been there ever since. Sometimes, while having lunch or dinner together or just taking in the sunset at his summer house in the Hamptons, I’ll catch him looking at me in a way that takes my breath away.

  It’s in the way he touches me, and in the way he makes love to me.

  It’s in the way we are together. There’s no other way to describe it.

  Love.

  I’m going to tell him tonight, when we move into our new home. I’m first going to tell him, and then I’m going to show him with my body.

  I’m also going to tell him about the other surprise I have for him. I’m taking him to St. Bart’s for a much-deserved vacation. I can’t wait to spend every day with him by the turquoise sea, just languishing in each other’s company.

  Things have progressed quickly between us since the afternoon we first made love, which normally would send me into panic. But not with Liam. Instead, I welcome this thing unfolding between us with every fiber of my being.

  Whether it’s happening too quickly or not, it feels natural. It feels right.

  I’ve finally let go of my fear…and so has he.

  For the first time ever, I’ve been able to talk about my past and why I was never able to trust men. And he’s understood, holding me close and tight while I’ve sobbed in his arms. I’ve also held him close as he’s shared his grief and debilitating guilt over his wife’s death, even though it wasn’t his fault. Together, we’ve slowly begun to heal each other in a million tiny ways. And we’re learning to put the past behind us so we can move into a new tomorrow.