by Abbi Cook
Because I fucking can’t.
As much as I know I shouldn’t, I lean down and softly kiss her lips before whispering against them, “Okay, little bird. Happy?”
I know the answer to that. No, she’s not happy. She’s as miserable as I am at this moment.
Her blue eyes fill with fear as she looks up at me now. “What am I going to do, Alexei? He’s going to know what I did.”
Christ, I should just walk away at this point. I can’t have her. Fuck, I have to be her goddamned killer, so what the fuck am I doing? I can’t, though. Something about this woman has wormed its way into my soul.
“Come with me then. We’ll get you cleaned up and then you can go home. Trust me. It will be okay. I promise.”
As if I have any fucking business promising her anything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Natalie
With my clothes in the washer, I take Alexei up on his offer of a shower and hope that I can get home in time to fix myself up. This is what happens when you do bad things. Lies pile on top of lies, and before you know it, you’re calculating the length of time it will take to return to your car and then drive to your house so you don’t get caught doing those bad things.
I’m not the right kind of woman for this. I don’t lie well. I deal with guilt even worse.
Hot water streams down over my face, calming me for at least a few moments. This won’t be horrible. I’ll shower, have Alexei take me back to my car, hurry home, and get some makeup on my face before Adam comes home.
Then I’ll never see Alexei again. Ever. I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t.
That’s what has to happen. No more of anything with him.
The sound of the bathroom door closing shakes me out of my thoughts, and I spin around to see him stepping into the shower. Completely naked for the first time in front of me, he’s unashamed and confident as he walks toward where I stand dumbstruck at how beautiful he is at this moment.
“You can’t be in here,” I protest, wishing I sounded more believable.
“This is my house and my shower, so I don’t see why I can’t,” he answers with grin that shows just how much he understands who’s in control here.
“Because I’m in here, Alexei.”
With his fingertip, he traces a line from one shoulder to the other and shakes his head. “That’s the only reason for me to be in here at this moment.”
“Why won’t you let me be?” I ask as he slides his hand around my neck.
“I can’t, little bird. You’re inside me now. You’re the only thing I see when I close my eyes, the only voice I hear when it’s quiet. I can still taste you on my lips, can still smell the scent of your shampoo in my nose every time I breathe in.”
Although I open my mouth to tell him this can’t continue, he stops me with a kiss that makes thinking of anything but him impossible. He says I’ve gotten inside him, but it’s no better for me. I say I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, but then he appears and I can’t think of anything but his lips on mine.
His mouth on me making my head swim.
Him inside me making me feel like I’m flying.
“Hold on to my neck, little bird,” he says in a needy voice just before he lifts me by the waist and positions me over his hard cock.
I do as he says and then feel the damp tile press against my back. His wet hair tickles my fingers, and I spread them wide to tug his hair, knowing what that does to him. I want to see him like that again.
Alexei levels his gaze on me, and I feel like he’s looking right through me with those dark eyes of his. “Careful. I can’t say I’ll be as gentle as I was back at the apartment if you toy with me. There we were on that purgatorial couch. Here I’ve got all the room I need to fuck you as hard as I want.”
His words scare me while at the same time exciting me. He’s power and control, and he wields it all so effortlessly over me.
“Don’t be afraid. Just hang on tight.”
I hook my ankles together and press my heel against the small of his back, and with one slow thrust of his hips, he slides into me and I instantly realize how much I love having him fill me. I expect him to immediately begin, but he remains perfect still simply staring into my eyes.
“Alexei?”
“What little bird?” he answers in a low voice that hits me deep inside.
“Is something wrong?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “No. You’re perfect, Natalie.”
The sound of my name startles me for a second, making me think we’re back to fighting like on the street before, but this time, it sounds sweet coming out of his mouth. Closing my eyes, I kiss that mouth that can hurt as well as please, sting as much as satisfy.
“Fuck…you make me want to do things I shouldn’t,” he says before rearing back to fill me again.
This time he doesn’t stop, and with every time he slides into my body, I want more. His skin presses against mine, his mouth in my ear whispering dirty things that thrill me.
“You feel so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight I swear your cunt is going to strangle my cock. Tilt your hips so you can take all of me.”
I do as he commands, his to do with what he wants. I need to feel that sensation of flying again so I can forget for even a few seconds that he’s not mine.
My fingers slip out of his wet hair, but I clutch at the strands as much as I can, trying to pull at them. I catch a few that haven’t been soaked by the shower yet and tug hard. He doesn’t stop fucking me, but he leans back to look at me and I see I’ve awakened that part of him he warned me about.
“Don’t hold back, Alexei. I want to remember this moment forever.”
A flash of hurt crosses his expression, settling in his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came, and a second later, his mouth covers mine in a kiss full of ownership and claim to let me know he doesn’t plan on letting me go. I don’t want to think about that now. Now I just want to revel in how it feels for this man to fuck me.
His body pounds mine, and he grabs my hair, fisting a handful of it. “Little bird…” His words come out as a groan that sounds like it comes from the depths of his soul. Tortured and sensual, they send my need soaring.
My orgasm begins to uncoil inside me, and seconds later, I cling to him as that feeling of flying washes over me again. I can’t think or speak. All I can do is feel like no one has a hold on me and I’m free to float away.
I hear Alexei moan something I can’t make out in the haze of ecstasy, and then everything falls silent and he stills inside me. His chest heaves against mine. His hands hold me to him so we’re like one person. When he breathes in, so do I. When he exhales, I exhale.
He begins where I end, and I begin where he ends. I’m his, and he’s mine.
Oh, God. How am I going to live without him?
As I clear off the dinner dishes from the table, I think about how I can’t tell my husband about anything I did today. Not hocking my sister’s jewelry to get money. Not what I did with Alexei. Not even about my visit with Dr. Trevino. My entire day has been one big lie.
My husband's utter disdain for anything involving psychology makes even talking about that with Adam impossible. Even if he could see past my doing it behind his back, he still wouldn't be able to accept my discussing our life with some strange man. So now my goal is to get well without ever telling him how and hopefully one day I'll be able to explain to him how it all happened. As for everything else from today, he can never know any of it.
In the meantime, I made a second appointment for tomorrow. I'm planning on writing down everything I can remember from all my dreams and nightmares so I can discuss them with the doctor. The more information he has, the more help he can give me.
And the faster I can get better. Maybe that will even make my husband love me again.
"You're uncharacteristically quiet tonight, Natalie. Is something wrong?"
Adam's voice tears me out of my thoughts about m
y next appointment. Setting the dishes into the sink, I turn around to face him and shake my head. "No. Just quiet, I guess."
His dark eyes scan my face for a moment before he asks, "How was your day? Did you do anything interesting?"
That question makes my heart skip a beat. Does he know where I went this afternoon? Is that possible? His office in Silver Spring is nowhere near the doctor's office near Claire's or near Alexei’s apartment, but he routinely leaves to meet clients. My stomach twists into a knot at the thought that he saw me and knows everything I’ve been up to today.
Swallowing hard, I try to keep calm as I squeak out an answer for him. "Nothing interesting. No."
I don't know what else to say. If I had a sense of what or how much he knows, I would know what to tell him. I watch his expression for any change but see none. Am I just letting my imagination get the best of me?
"Nothing? Okay."
"What about your day?" I ask, knowing he won't tell me anything. He never does. But at least it will get the attention off what I did today and hopefully distract him.
"Same old, same old. Nothing I'd want to bore you with. I guess we both had the usual kind of day," he says, still staring at me like he's studying me or waiting for some word he can seize upon to ferret out the truth.
Worried he'll find out about my going to see my sister, I blurt out, "I did go to see Claire today, but I doubt you'd find that interesting. You know, sister stuff. Nothing you'd find very interesting. Just the usual stuff between sisters."
I'm rambling. It's as if I'm unable to stop myself from repeating the same words, so once I've said them twice, I turn around to fuss with the dishes in the sink so I don't have to face him. God, I'm a terrible liar! How am I going to keep up this charade?
From behind me, I hear him mumble, "Again? That's twice in one week."
Suddenly, my mouth feels like something has sucked all the moisture out. I quickly turn on the faucet and fill my hand with water before bringing it to my lips and slurping it into my mouth. But it does nothing and I still feel like my mouth is so dry I can’t speak. Desperate to quench my sudden thirst, I gulp down another handful of water and then turn off the faucet.
"I know, but she's still very down about Lauren."
That I've used my missing sister as a method of lying to two people today makes me sick to my stomach. Lauren's disappearance isn't something I should be throwing around like some lame excuse for behavior I want to keep from my husband. I know this, and still I say those despicable words.
"I never realized they were that close. I know you two are but not Claire and Lauren. Were they like you two?" he asks and then adds, "You know, calling each other and telling one another everything?"
Caught off guard by his curiosity about my sisters' relationship, I scramble for an answer, my mind a little muddled at the moment. "Uh, yeah. I guess," I say staring straight ahead at the light brown, tumbled marble tile backsplash in front of me as I switch gears from my own guilt to my sister's. "I think it was more Claire being like a mother hen to all of us. She's taking it very hard because I think she feels she should have seen something was wrong with Lauren. It's not fair to herself, but I think that's why she's still so depressed."
Expecting him to continue this conversation, I'm surprised once more when he changes the topic yet again. "Have you spoken to your mother lately?"
After I dry my hands on a dish towel, I turn back to face him and see he's waiting for my answer. Why, I have no idea.
With a shrug, I say, "No."
Immediately, he comes back at me with, "I thought you talked to her the day you spent resting in bed."
He sounds almost like he's indicting me for something I've done. Yes, I did talk to her that day, but I thought he meant other than that time. Does he think I'm lying to him?
"I did talk to her that day. I thought you meant after that."
My answer is met with silence. Did I tell him I spoke to her, or did he call her and she told him? I honestly don't remember. Sometimes they talk and I don't find out until weeks later when one of them mentions it in passing. Or maybe it's because my memory is so bad lately that I can't recall if I told him or not.
Either way, I don't know why he asked the question of whether or not I spoke to her if he already knew the answer.
"Why do you ask?" I nervously sputter out as I watch him scroll through a news story on his phone.
Adam looks up and frowns as he shrugs. "No reason. I think we need to get new phones. Ours are old. I'll go to the store tomorrow so you'll be without your cell phone for a day. Go get me yours so I don't have to look for it in the morning."
My stomach drops at the thought that he'll find out about Alexei and Dr. Trevino. Instantly, my mind races to find a way to avoid that. "I like my phone, Adam. I've gotten used to the way it works, and I have that cute puppy screensaver I've had for a long time."
He glances up at me with a hint of disgust in his eyes. My husband doesn't like dogs of any kind. He thinks they're dirty creatures who mess up people's homes. That's the reason why I can only have one on my phone, even though I begged and pleaded for us to get one right after we married.
"Don't be ridiculous. You can download another one on the new phone."
"I have all my contacts just the way I like them too. I hate getting new phones. They always take getting used to. Why don't you get a new one and I can keep mine as it is?" I gently protest, hoping to avoid an argument but desperate to not let him get his hands on my phone.
His expression hardens, and his mouth sets in that straight line that always means he's angry with me. "We have a family plan, so if one trades up, both should. We got the phones at the same time, so I want to keep us both on the same schedule. Now go get your phone and stop giving me a hard time."
He's not going to listen to my protests about this. I know my husband. But how can I make sure he doesn't see who I've been calling?
As I ponder my options, he tires of waiting and stands up, pushing the chair out behind him so it skids across the tile floor. "Fine. I'll just go get it. I don't know why you're being so difficult about this."
Frantic he'll get to it before I do, I grab hold of his arm to stop him, pressing my fingertips into his forearm. The stony look on his face when he turns to face me makes me recoil, but I can't let him get to that phone first.
I force my sweetest smile and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "You don't have to go get it. Sit down and relax. Keep reading what you were looking at, and I'll be right back."
He doesn't respond, but it wouldn't matter if he did because I practically bolt up the stairs to our room to get my phone out of my purse. My mind races to figure out a way to hide my calls with each step. Maybe I could set the phone back to its factory settings. That might look suspicious, though. I could go in and delete each call. There aren't that many I wouldn't want him to see, so I can do that.
The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs sets my body on red alert. I need more time to do this. Frantic to find some way to get that time, I stuff the phone into the front of my pants just as Adam opens the bedroom door.
"Are you okay? You practically ran up the stairs. The doctor said you should take it easy."
"That was months ago. I'm fine now. I just wanted to get the phone for you, but I must have left it out in the car. Let me go get it."
Before he can say anything, I hurry past him and out into the hall. Taking the stairs by two, I race out to the garage and slam the door behind me. All I have to do is get rid of a few calls and I'll be fine.
I yank the phone from my pants, my hands shaking violently as I begin to search for the calls. Desperate, I swipe and tap as fast as I can to get to the call log. Why do they have to make phones so difficult these days? It's like I need a Ph.D. in astrophysics to figure out how to delete a few damn calls.
The tapping sound of Adam's shoes on the kitchen tile sends a spike of panic tearing through me, and as I finish deleting the call to Alexei,
I hear the door to the garage open. My stomach drops, and I feel my mouth water like it does whenever I'm about to throw up.
There is no more time. I have to delete the entire call log, even though I know that will look suspicious. I'll just have to come up with a lie that sounds plausible. What that is I have no idea at the moment, but I don't have a choice.
"Natalie, where are you? Did you find your phone in the car?" he says as he starts walking toward me. He sounds even more irritated than before.
"Yeah, I got it," I say as all the calls I've made disappear from the screen in front of me.
"What's taking so long?" he says as he stops right behind me.
Startled, I turn around to face him, but the phone slips out of my trembling hands. It crashes to the floor, shattering the screen as I watch in horror.
He crouches down and picks up the phone with the screen covered in tiny cracks that make it look like a spider web. Lifting his head, he stares at me with a mixture of confusion and disgust in his eyes. "Why are you so jumpy?"
"I'm not. You just snuck up on me. That's all. Is the phone ruined?"
I hide my hands behind my back and hope they'll stop shaking before I have to show them again. Jumpy is an understatement for what I feel. Panicked is closer to the truth. At least I got to delete the call log before he came up on me.
Adam turns the phone on and begins to look through my contacts, cutting his skin as he swipes and taps his fingertip on the cracked screen. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he sucks the blood off his finger.
"Damnit! Now I'm bleeding. All this because I wanted to get you a new phone."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop it."
After a few more gentle taps on the phone, he looks up at me and shakes his head. "It seems fine, except for the screen and it looks like you cleared the call log. Why did you do that?"
A spike of terror races through me, but I try to keep my emotions off my face. "I didn't. It must have happened when it dropped."