Closely Guarded Secret

by Money, Natalie

  “I like to keep it tame.”

  “I like it.” I move to plant a chaste kiss against his skin but his erection jerks, smacking the side of my face.

  “He has a mind of his own.” The corner of his mouth turns up into a wry grin.

  “Obviously,” I say cheekily, then return to my exploring.

  His hard cock stands at full attention waiting for its inspection with my mouth. My fingers curl around the base, and I’m rewarded with a gasp. The heat from his body sears into mine as we become one. My tongue outlines his shaft until I reach his balls, caressing one then the other, gently rolling them around in my mouth, lightly sucking before letting them pop out. A deep rumble from his throat emits the most soulful moan of pleasure I’ve ever heard.

  Swirling along the sides of his impressive erection with my tongue getting him slippery, my thumb slides over the escaped drop of moisture on the tip, caressing the ridge of the head. Keeping steady pressure with quick flicks of my tongue on the underside of his cock, my mouth fully engulfs him.

  “Fuck…oh god. Oooh . . .” he drawls out in a breathy whisper. His hands fist in my hair, guiding me.

  Hearing his muffled gasps and feeling his body tense beneath me fuels my desire. My grip tightens with each downward stroke, matching every upward glide of my mouth while increasing speed, before slowing and repeating the motions. Looking up, I gaze at him lustfully before taking him again.

  “Oooh, don’t stop . . . so good.” He thrusts faster signaling he’s close. Careful not to scrape my teeth against him, my mouth and fingers tighten around him, while my other hand lightly squeeze and caress his balls. “Harder, baby. I’m gonna come, ” he bellows. His eyes squeeze shut, his body stiffens. Releasing his grip on my hair, he grasps the blanket so tightly, I’m sure his knuckles turned white.

  Using hand over hand motions I pump faster. There’s a sharp intake of breath, followed by a guttural moan while his cock pulsates several times as he comes. His body shudders when I let go, and he pulls me to him.

  Once our gazes lock on each other, I know he’s sated. I curl into his side wrapped in his arms as his chest moves up and down in harsh, uneven breaths.

  “You’re an amazing woman. Are you sure it’s been ten years?” he asks jokingly while stroking my back. I don’t say anything. “How’d you learn to do that?” he asks quizzically and I lean up so we’re face to face.

  “If you can read, you can do just about anything,” I say right back. “Actually, you’re my first.” The look on his face is pure shock, and then a smile crosses his lips. Luckily, he doesn’t ask any more questions.

  I would return the question but I already know the answer.

  Returning with warm washcloth from the bathroom, I clean up the “deposit” Bryce left on his abdomen. Lying next to him holding him close, I can feel his heart return to a normal beat. He moves after a few minutes, causing me to roll on my back so he’s on top of me. Before plunging his tongue into my mouth, he says, “Your turn.”

  I felt the warmth spread through me as the familiar moisture gathered at the apex between my legs while sucking him. I feel it even more now. I’m so wet for him. His kisses are more fervent, with more purpose, arousing me further. His naked, beautiful body is hovering over me like a stealth bomber on a mission who has found its target.

  His tongue is ruthless, doing what it does best. He was right: he’s taking me to heights and places I never knew possible or ever imagined myself going. In that moment, a dark thought clouds my mind about him seeing me naked. My shirt’s long enough and I don’t have to take it off. I can keep him from touching me there. I’ll figure out a way, but what I want right now, is his mouth on me, all over me, and at this moment nothing else matters.

  “Ali,” is all I hear as he leaves kisses down my chin to my throat, and glides his tongue around my neck. His mouth leaves gentle nibbles along my ear, before trailing his tongue alongside my neck. My white flag waves as I surrender to him, to his mouth, to his touch. I’m totally lost in him. He lies beside me, his mouth still engulfing mine.

  Kneading my aching breast, slowly moving his hand down my body until it reaches the top of my shorts. He undoes the button then the zipper, his hand trails up my abdomen. I tense and immediately come to my senses. His hand freezes. He stops kissing me. He stops touching me. His eyes are firmly fixed on mine when he sits up.

  Oh, no. Oh, please no. Don’t look at me like that. Please.

  I don’t say anything. He’s staring at me intently. I knew it. He’s repulsed. What was I thinking I could hide, especially with us like this?

  “Ali?” he asks quietly as he pushes my shirt up, while gently tugging on my shorts to take them off.

  I try to keep him from moving my shirt up, placing my hands over it and over my now opened shorts. “Bryce, please. Don’t,” I say in a hushed whisper.

  I feel tears coming, doing my best to keep them at bay. Ignoring my plea, moving my hands, he moves the top of my boy shorts out of the way so he can see. His eyes trail from one side of my abdomen to the other, looking at the marks, which for ten years have marred my body. His eyes shoot up to mine again and my tears betray me, falling down the sides of my face into salty pools of sorrow on my bed.

  “What happened to you?” he asks gently as he lies beside me, wiping my tears away.

  “I’ll understand if you want to go,” I say softly, trying to force my tears to stop. I can’t look at him, so I turn my head away.

  He puts his hand on the side of my face, turning it back towards him. “Why would I go? Ali, please tell me what happened.”

  “I . . . ” At that moment, my memory betrays me as I forget the story I was going to tell him. “I was in an accident,” I blurt out. Inwardly, I let out a relieved sigh.

  “What kind of accident?”

  “Car accident.”

  “A car accident did this?” he continues, looking over my scars.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  He kisses the corner of my eyes, kissing away the remaining tears. “It’s okay. Why are you crying?”

  His hand reaches for my face, caressing my cheek as I roll over to face him, “I didn’t think you’d want to be with me, you know, looking like this.”

  “What? Why would you say that? I’m still here.”

  “I’m damaged.” In the back of my mind, I hear Steven berating me for saying that about myself.

  “Damaged? You’re anything but damaged. You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m not perfect, you know, like the women you go out with.”

  “You’re the only woman I’m going out with, the only woman I want to be with, and to me you’re perfect,” he says in the most soothing voice. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. Maybe because the explanation I gave him is a lie. If he knew the truth, it would definitely be a game changer. I don’t want to lie, but right now I have to – to protect myself. I hope if and when the time comes to reveal the truth, he forgives my lie. He sprinkles kisses all over my face, bringing his lips to mine, kissing my tears away.

  Never taking his eyes off mine, I can tell he’s asking permission, so I give a slight nod. His fingers glide down my neck to the top of my shirt, as his hand travels down, undoing each button, pulling down my bra, exposing my breasts and pebbled nipples. The warmth of his mouth, sucking and nipping gently, brings me back to that euphoric feeling I get when I’m with him.

  His moves down my body and sits up, bringing me with him, taking off my shirt, tossing it on the floor, then reaching around, undoing my bra. I feel unsure, unprotected and nervous. Never breaking visual contact, he lays me back gently,

  “I want to see you,” he says as he tugs on my shorts. I resist. I’m too exposed “Ali, I’m here. I’m not going to turn away from you because of these.” He points to the permanent marks on my body.

  My heart rate increases, slamming against my chest, and I think I’m o
n the verge of having a heart attack. He lifts my hips at the same time, removing my clothing. I’m frightened of what he’s thinking. With the lightest touch, he traces the scars with his fingertips and kisses each one.

  It’s too much. Clear, salty liquid falls in slow steady streams from the corners of my eyes. They aren’t tears of sadness but relief. He moans as he kisses his way down to my pelvis. Spreading my legs, he moves between them, his mouth kneading the outer lips of my vagina. I’m about to come apart at the seams, my fear forgotten along with my tears. His deft fingers open the folds to give his mouth undeniable access as his tongue laves my clitoris in a slow, sensuous rhythm. My body bucks, my back arches at the contact and I cry out but not in pain. Its ecstasy; pure, sexual ecstasy.

  “You’re so wet,” he whispers, returning his beautiful mouth to its destination, his soft lips continuing the rhythm with increased intensity.

  “Please . . .” I barely get the word out. I feel that familiar intense surge building, consuming my soul. It’s happening quicker this time. His tongue flicks faster as he inserts his fingers inside me, pushing in and up on the front wall of my vagina, hitting my g-spot and they find their own dance. I’m so close. My hands push against the headboard as my body goes rigid while I absorb all the intense sensations coming at me at once.

  “Bryce, I’m going to come,” I moan out. “Oh, god, I’m going to come,” I scream as I fall off the edge of the universe, becoming weightless and floating up like a million fireflies. My body convulses wildly, giving in to the release it’s demanded, as he pushes down on my thighs and holds me in place. His tongue still delivering its delicious message, a message of want and need sated.

  His rhythm slows and my body is streaming with electrical voltage surging through every part of my being. I’m sensitive to the point of no return. He kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other, moving up my still quivering body. He lightly kisses each scar as he crawls up, lying beside me.

  When I finally open my eyes, he’s staring at me, a slow smile coming across his mouth as his hand moves down my stomach and rests on my abdomen. I want to cover my body, shield it from his eyes and wandering hands. I try to move his hands and turn away from him.

  “No, don’t,” he says, again in his soft, yet strong and caring voice which brings me comfort.

  “Bryce, I don’t want you to touch me there. Please,” I beg.

  “Ali, you were in an accident. Things happen to people all the time out of their control. These,” and he trails them with his fingers, “don’t change how I feel about you. They’re a part of you, and I want you. All of you. How long ago did it happen?”

  If only I could tell him the truth . . . But I know it may bring up questions I’m not willing to answer, so I tell another lie. “Nine years.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been a horrible time for you.”

  “Yes, it was.” He’ll never know how horrible it was.

  CHAPTER 27

  We’re on the patio of Salito’s Crab House, in Saulsalito, which has a great view of the water and some of the biggest yachts I’ve ever seen.

  “Have you accomplished everything you set out to achieve?” I ask between bites of my sandwich.

  “No, not everything,” he says, turning up his lips in his wicked smile.

  “I’m being serious,” I shoot back.

  He pouts, then sighs, “Mostly, but there are a few things I would still like to do.” He may not like me asking so many questions, but I want to know everything about him. One day, he’ll know everything about me. But not yet.

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “There are several old, abandoned warehouses all over the city and in its outlying areas. I’m in the process of buying them to convert into affordable housing.” I know real estate and housing in the San Francisco area is some of the most expensive in the U.S. “I believe if done correctly, there’s a cost effective way to make affordable housing possible,” he continues.

  “Bryce, that’s amazing. What made you decide to take on this project? I mean, you grew up in a middle class lifestyle, and I feel awkward asking this, but where’s this need coming from?”

  “That’s just it. I did have a middle class upbringing, and seeing the way the world is now, it makes me appreciate what I had. I’d like to give back. People lose their homes because they can no longer afford the mortgages even though they’re gainfully employed. Most of them have children. Some are even working two jobs. Where are those families going to live? I came up with a plan to help people like this, then I set it in motion.” I’m speechless.

  Bryce continues, “I have never taken anything for granted. When you do, that’s when things start to fall apart. That’s why I stayed in L.A. longer. The buildings are owned by a company there, so I had to wheel and deal but I got what I wanted and at a much lower cost.”

  “I am in total awe of you right now,” I say.

  “Work’s scheduled to begin mid September. I think two months is sufficient time for the ink to dry,” he says, letting out a small laugh. He goes on to say, “A man in my position, why not do as much as I can?”

  “What you’re doing is going to make a huge difference,” I add.

  “I want to make my mark in this world, leave something behind.” A shadow of sadness is in his expression, but only for a moment. Maybe I’m wrong.

  “You’ll leave an indelible mark in this world, Bryce,” I say softly, and he takes my hand, squeezing it lightly.

  We stroll arm in arm along Sausalito’s beautiful main street, lined with cute shops. There’s a cool breeze coming off the bay, but I’m warm. We stop at an ice cream shop for dessert and find a bench outside where we sit in comfortable silence, watching as the world goes by.

  “Mmm, this is good. Want a bite?” I ask, holding my rocky road ice cream cone to his mouth. He shakes his head and I can’t resist. I put it up to his lips, dabbing them with chocolate.

  “Hey. Why’d you do that?” he asks, partly laughing, and starts to wipe it off as I reach up and grab his hand.

  “So I can do this,” I say, licking the chocolate off with my tongue, leaving butterfly kisses along his tasty lips. His eyes light up and he pulls me into a deeper kiss, our different ice cream flavored tongues mixing together.

  “Mmm, now that’s good,” he says.

  “Glad you like it. I told you it was.”

  “You’re very tasty, you know. Inside and out.” His words make me blush and horny at the same time.

  The winds picked up, making it a little chilly, but as hot as I am, I need to take clothes off, not put them on. “You don’t taste bad yourself,” I say, “Especially mixed with rocky road.” I slowly run my tongue around the edge of the cone and trail it back to the top. I wrap my lips around it, sliding it into my mouth and gently pulling it back out.

  “Jesus, Ali. You’re giving me a heart attack here,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving my mouth.

  “Oh? Do I need to call 911?” I reply, my eyes grow wide with innocence.

  “You’re the only resuscitation I need,” he growls seductively.

  “I’m sure a store around here has a defibrillator,” I say, knowing I’m being a smart ass.

  “I prefer mouth to mouth from Nurse Ali,” he says, swiftly connecting his lips with mine. Our passion takes over as the heat resonating off of us melts the remaining ice cream. We both remember ourselves and pull apart. I look down at the melted ice cream, which has dripped all through my fingers. He lifts my hand to his mouth, licking and sucking it off slowly, methodically. I watch as he licks the ice cream off his own hand, repeating the motions. I want him now.

  “I think I’m the one having a heart attack,” I say in a hushed breath.

  “We better go before I forget where we are and fuck you on this bench.” He gets up, pulling me up with him. We walk toward the car, hand in hand, tossing our uneaten ice cream in a trashcan along the way.

  It’s dusk as we d
rive back to the city, the sun in a hurry to sink below the horizon. Bryce is holding my hand, squeezing it occasionally, the radio softly playing. I feel as though I don’t have a care in the world. I look over at Bryce, and he seems to be lost in thought also. There is a slight smile on his gorgeous lips.

  He runs his hand up and down my thigh and his fingers walk up my leg until they find their target, massaging me through my pants. I open my legs, giving him better access.

  “If you don’t stop doing that, we’re going to wreck,” I say and he intensifies the pressure.

  “Undo your jeans,” he commands, never taking his eyes off the road.