Secrets Vol 2

by DeSalvo-Hamre-Knight-Paul

  He yanked his jeans up and fastened them, leaving his shirt hanging open. She sat down on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and looking everywhere but at him.

  He reached out and touched her arm. "Next time will be better. I promise."

  She looked at him then. "Next time?" She sounded surprised, as if she hadn't considered the possibility of a next time. And no wonder—after what he'd just done, she probably couldn't wait to see the last of him.

  "Yes, next time," he said firmly.

  She looked down at the floor. "I thought that since it didn't work this time..."

  God, he'd never had this happen to him before. He opened his mouth, hoping his voice wouldn't shake. "You want to see a different therapist. I understand." He didn't like it, but he did understand.

  "No, I just thought there wouldn't be any point in trying again."

  She blamed herself. He couldn't stand it. "It was my fault. I let you down tonight."

  She shook her head. He moved across the bed until he sat next to her, then wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "Entirely my fault," he insisted.

  "No, it's just me. The cross I have to bear." She gave a bitter, choked laugh. "My mother always said I was the cross she had to bear. Look what she's cursed me with."

  He could get the answers from Dr. Lansing, but he wanted to hear them from Sarah. Maybe she trusted him enough to tell him.

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  Maybe he could help her through the pain. After all, he was a trained therapist. Even if he hadn't been acting like one lately. "What did she do to you?"

  "You mean in general? Or what did she do to make me frigid?"

  "Don't call yourself that." His own shout startled him. "That's a label. Don't make it stick to you."

  "It's the truth."

  He put his free hand under her chin and tilted her face up until she had to look at him. "You are a vital, passionate woman. You just have some bad experiences blocking you from seeing it."

  Incredibly, she smiled. "You ought to be a politician."

  "No need to insult me."

  She smiled wider, and he couldn't resist her lips. He kissed her, just a quick peck on the mouth, as friendly and non-threatening as he could possibly make it.

  When he backed off, she looked startled. "Why did you do that?"

  "Did you mind?"

  "Not really. But I don't want to try again tonight, Adrian."

  As if he'd force her. "Kisses don't have to lead to sex."

  She rolled her eyes. "I know that. But it is what you're here for."

  "I'm here to help you," he corrected. "Sex is only part of it."

  He took her hand in his. They'd wandered a long way from the topic of her childhood, but he couldn't think of a casual way to guide her back to the subject. If he asked outright, he'd sound like Dr. Lansing. And he didn't want Sarah to see him as just another therapist.

  "What are you thinking?" she asked.

  For an instant, he considered lying to her, saying something trite and shallow, something that wouldn't scare her off. But he would never want her to do that to him, to lie to him. "I'm wondering about your mother."

  "Oh." She seemed to shrink away from him, putting distance between them. He pulled her back against him.

  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just want to

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  understand you better, that's all."

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. "My parents were always mean to me. At best, they ignored me. Sometimes I misbehaved just to get their attention. They'd punish me, and I was glad to get the attention even though I resented them for beating me. I thought it meant that they cared."

  She stopped, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  "When I was fourteen, there was a boy who liked me. We used to hold hands and walk home from school together. Kid stuff, you know?'

  He nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him.

  "One day when he dropped me off at my house, he kissed me. I kissed him back, or tried to. We didn't really know what we were doing, but I guess we both wanted to practice. My mother caught us. She dragged me into the house..." Her voice trailed off.

  Adrian stroked her back, knowing that he couldn't really comfort her, hating himself for dredging up the pain that made her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

  "She hit me, over and over again," Sarah whispered. "And she called me names.... She said I was a born sinner, conceived in sin, a constant reminder of her shame."

  "I'm sorry," he said, helplessly.

  "She locked me in my room for the entire weekend," Sarah went on, not seeming to have heard him. "They put bars on my window, and they locked me in my room every night. They took me out of school, claimed that they were teaching me at home. But it was just that they didn't trust me out of their sight. I'd barely even started to notice boys, but they were convinced I was sleeping with half of the town."

  He rocked her in his arms, holding her gently, grinding his teeth in anger. What a wonder that she'd survived with her sanity.

  "But the worst part," she went on, "is that I believed her. I was ashamed of myself. I thought I was the most wicked girl on the planet."

  "But you weren't, Sarah. You were perfectly normal."

  "I know that now. Well, I'm trying to believe it."

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  She reached out a hand, groping blindly toward the nightstand. He took the box of tissues and handed it to her. She straightened up to blow her nose, leaving him chilled where she'd been resting against him.

  She glanced at him, then looked away. "I know I overreacted. I'm sure you've heard worse."

  As if child abuse could be measured in relative terms. "Don't discredit your own pain. It's no wonder you have trouble with sex after an experience like that."

  "I thought I could get over it on my own," she said. "It took me two years to run away, and I swore I'd never look back."

  Alone and on the streets at sixteen? He didn't want to think about how she'd managed to survive. "Where did you go?"

  "I had an aunt who'd never gotten along with my mother," she said. "She took me in, even managed to enroll me in school somehow."

  Thank God she hadn't been totally defenseless. "Does she live nearby?" Where had that come from? He never asked patients questions that weren't related to their treatment.

  "No, she died last year."

  "I'm sorry," he said, hating the inadequacy of the words. Her lips looked pale and tense, her eyes red and watery. No wonder. First he'd jumped her, then he'd forced her to dredge up painful memories. He'd done nothing but cause her pain.

  "Sarah?"

  She looked up at him. "Yes?"

  "Will you let me hold you for a while?"

  She stiffened. "Sure," she said, warily.

  Damn. "You can say no if you'd rather not. You won't hurt my feelings."

  "No, I think I might like it."

  He smiled reassuringly. "Would you mind if we lie down? It'll be more comfortable." .

  She scooted up the bed and laid down. He followed, careful not to crowd her or get too close. Gingerly, he put one arm over her waist.

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  "Adrian?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm not sure how I should act with you."

  "Don't worry about that. We just met. We need to get to know each other better."

  Her brow furrowed. "But what sort of relationship are we supposed to have?"

  "I'm not sure I understand."

  "With Dr. Lansing, I know exactly how to act. She's the doctor and I'm the patient. It's hard for me to see you that way, because we've..."

  "Because we've been intimate," he finished for her.

  "Yes."

  He'd always insisted on a purely professional relationship in the past. But Sarah needed to trust him before she'd open up and relax with him. A doctor-patient relationship would be too cold for her. "Why don't you think of me as a friend? Someone you can say anythin
g to, without worrying about how it sounds." And someone who's going to touch you and tease you as often as he can, until you whimper and moan and come apart in his arms.

  "All right." She moved closer to him then, actually leaning against his chest. He felt her hand brush his shirt open, then come to rest just over his heart. After what he'd done, she still wanted to be close to him. Amazing.

  He should have held her after he'd come, but he'd been too disgusted with himself to realize that she'd needed comforting, not distance. If he made even one more misstep with this woman, he'd never forgive himself.

  He kissed the top of her head, then rubbed her back, gently easing her closer.

  "This is nice," she murmured.

  "Wonderful," he agreed, even though the weight of her body was making his arm fall asleep. But Sarah seemed comfortable, and putting up with a numb arm was the least he could do for her.

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  Tomorrow he'd take her out. Someplace with enough privacy for a few furtive caresses, but where he wouldn't be able to lose control of himself. Once was bad enough. Especially since he still didn't know how it had happened. She'd enjoyed some of his lovemaking, and he'd read too much into her response, let passion cloud his judgment. It wouldn't happen again. Tomorrow everything would be business as usual, with his own needs held in check.

  "Sarah?"

  "Hmm?" She sounded drowsy, as if she'd almost been asleep. Asleep in his arms. She must trust him a little.

  "Can I see you tomorrow?"

  "Sure." Her voice was stronger now, more awake. "Same time?"

  He pulled back a little, so he could see her face. "No. I thought we could spend the day together. There's someplace I want to take you."

  "Where?"

  So much for trust. "I'd rather surprise you."

  "You have to give me some hint. I don't know what I should wear."

  "Wear something casual. But make it a dress or skirt." Something I can get my hands under.

  "All right."

  He closed his eyes and slowly moved in for a kiss, giving her plenty of time to pull away. But she didn't. Her lips clung to his with shy enthusiasm, and he moved his mouth against hers, changing angles, applying just enough suction to seal her to him, experimenting with variations on the same gentle theme.

  When they finally parted, she stroked his chest. "I can feel your heart beating," she said.

  No wonder, since he could feel every pulse racing through his veins. "I could kiss you for hours," he admitted. Oh God, it couldn't be true. He closed his eyes in denial. He wouldn't let it be true.

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  Chapter Two

  Adrian parked the car in a far corner of the parking lot, under a eucalyptus tree. He shut off the engine and turned to Sarah.

  She stared out the window, looking skeptical. "Golden Gate Park? It's supposed to rain today."

  And it looked like rain, overcast and breezy. But even so, the parking lot was full. Adrian took her hand. "A fifty percent chance. That means it might rain, or it might not."

  She smiled and reached for the door handle. He pulled gently on her hand, stopping her. "Not so fast."

  She turned toward him with a smile. "I was wondering if you were going to kiss me hello."

  The woman would be the death of him. Didn't she realize how badly he'd behaved yesterday? How badly he'd lost control? He managed a weak smile, then gave her a quick kiss. Good. No fireworks this time, at least not for him. Today was for her.

  "You're wearing too much," he said.

  "Are you kidding? I was just wishing that I'd brought a coat instead of this sweater."

  He winked at her. "I'll keep you warm." He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her fully against him, pulling her across the seat until she was almost in his lap. She giggled and leaned into him.

  "You're still overdressed."

  "You're crazy."

  How could he broach the issue gently? "I want you to be conscious of your body today. Thinking about it every minute."

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  She shrugged. "I'll try."

  "If you were wearing less, it would help."

  "It's cold out. I'll freeze to death if I take off my sweater."

  He took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't balk. "I think you should take off something more intimate than your sweater."

  "Like what?"

  She was frowning, suspicious. Maybe just worried.

  "Like your underpants."

  She looked horrified. "Forget it."

  "Why not?"

  "It's perverted."

  "Just think about it for a minute, Sarah."

  Her jaw set in a stubborn line. Well, he'd known this wouldn't be easy. He leaned closer to her. "Just imagine how sexy you'd feel."

  "Sexy?" She sounded incredulous.

  He reached up and curved his hand around her delicate neck, stroking her jaw with his thumb. "Why don't you try it right here? Just for a minute. Here in the car, just the two of us."

  She hesitated, biting her lip. Then she shifted in the seat and fumbled under her skirt. He kept his gaze locked on her face, even though he wanted to look. But if she caught him staring at her panties, she'd probably get embarrassed. And he probably would, too.

  She carefully smoothed her skirt back down. Her hands were empty. She must have left her underpants on the floor.

  She glanced at him, then away, obviously shy. "Now what?"

  "How do you feel?"

  "Embarrassed."

  And he hadn't even peeked. "That's okay."

  She shot him a wry smile. "I understated it. I feel like I'm about to die of embarrassment."

  "I'm the only one here, Sarah. And I've certainly seen you in less." Why on Earth was he reminding her of that? Their first coupling could only be a bad memory for her.

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  "But this is different," she said.

  He nodded, acknowledging her feelings. "Do you feel self-conscious?"

  "Yes."

  He put a hand on her thigh, mere inches from her sex, and felt her legs tighten and squeeze together, reminding him of exactly how tightly they'd cradled his hips last night. He bit his tongue, hard—hard enough to ward off his lurid thoughts—and moved his hand the barest fraction of an inch, subtly stroking her leg, hinting that he might move higher, hinting that he might move underneath her skirt. "Is this so horrible?,,

  "No," she breathed, almost moaned. "No, it doesn't feel horrible at all." She trembled.

  Time for the next step—-getting her out of the car. "You're tingling, aren't you?" He kept his voice low, soft, seductive. "Imagine feeling this way whenever we touch. Whenever we accidentally brush against each other. Imagine how much we'll want each other by the end of the day. You won't be able to think about anything else. Neither will I." Hell, he couldn't think about anything else right now.

  She shook her head, vigorously. "You can't possibly expect me to walk around like this all day. It's not decent."

  Worrying about decency was keeping her in chains, keeping her sexuality locked up in shame. But he couldn't tell her that. "No one will know but us," he said instead.

  She still looked skeptical. Would she make him force the issue? "Trust me," he said. "I know what I'm doing." Ha. After last night, she had plenty of reason to doubt that.

  She bit her lower lip, obviously wavering. How could he tip the scales? "You won't really be exposed."

  "But I'll feel exposed. I do already."

  "Think of it as a fantasy." He bent to whisper in her ear, building the fantasy for her. "You're exposed, but no one knows it. When I touch you, I'll think about it. You'll think about it. You'll feel daring

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  and excited. But to everyone else, we'll just be touching casually."

  "I'll be embarrassed."

  He moved his hand again, delving between her legs just a little. Her eyes widened. "How does this make you feel?" he asked.

  She s
wallowed. "Nervous."

  "Nervous about what?"

  She licked her lips. "I don't know."

  She felt more excited than nervous—he could see it in her eyes. But now wasn't the time to make her admit it.

  He gave her leg a gentle pat, then lifted his hand away completely. "That's strange," he commented. "I don't feel nervous at all."

  "You aren't the one with your underwear around your ankles."

  He grinned. Just when he thought she was running scared, she came up with a joke. But she did look a little frightened, and after what he'd done to her last night, he just couldn't force her to go through with this.

  He took her hand. "Sarah, I think you should give this a chance. But if you don't want to, I won't make you."

  She swallowed. "I'll do it."

  He could have kissed her for being so brave. Instead, he bent down and picked up her panties. Pink panties. Plain pink satin, too feminine for words. He stuffed them into his jacket pocket. A little public nakedness would do her good, help her see that she had nothing to fear from letting her passions out. And maybe it would keep her as off-kilter as he'd been last night. If she became really uncomfortable, he'd let her sneak into a restroom and put them back on. Maybe.

  They got out of the car, and Adrian walked around to Sarah's side, where she struggled with the door.

  "There's a trick to it." He jiggled the door until it snapped into place, then took Sarah's hand.

  "What kind of car is this?" she asked.

  "A '57 Chevy. I bought it in high school. It's the only car I've ever

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  had." Enough about the car. He smiled down at her, feeling sheepish. "Don't let me get started on my car. It's one of my obsessions."

  "I can see why. It's a great car."

  Sweet of her to humor him. He couldn't resist planting a light kiss on her forehead.

  They walked hand-in-hand through the parking lot, then followed the path that led down to the lake. The park was crowded for such a cloudy day. A few hardy souls were picnicking on the grass, but most were circling the lake, either jogging or sauntering aimlessly.