Love in Lingerie(45)

There is a slow change to his face, a resettling of features, his handsome profile returning, and he rubs his fingers along his brow. “That’s your secret? You gave a guy a blowjob?”

“In a fraternity house. And during a party,” I explain. “Anyone could have come downstairs and interrupted—could have seen me.” I flush, embarrassed at the thought. Me, my skirt riding up around my thighs, crouched and low on that sticky floor, one hand holding onto his hairy leg for balance. God, what if someone had come in and seen me, my lips wrapped around his—I clamp down the thought.

“But no one did come in.” His lips flutter in the ghost of a smile.

“Oh my God. We were practically exhibitionists. If you can’t see how stupid I was to do that, then you’re—”

“Normal? Reasonable?”

“An idiot,” I finish. “You’re an idiot.”

“That’s not a secret.”

“Are you kidding me?” I slam my hand down on the couch pillow. “That was a great secret.”

“It’s really sad if that is your best secret. Seriously. Tell me you have an orgy you’re hiding behind that blush.”

“Ew.” I shudder. “No.” I lift my chin and stare at him. “And don’t belittle it. Just because I’m not a Trey-Marks-worthy-slut, doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a big deal to me.”

“Oh, you’re Trey-Marks-worthy.” He grins, and we are back to that place, the one where he flirts, and I deflect, and later that night I spend twenty minutes with my vibrator.

“But not a slut.”

He tilts his head as if considering the possibility. “In my mind, you are wildly promiscuous once out of those clothes.”

“You’re trying to distract me from my question.”

“Oh yes. The dreaded question. Am I required to tell the truth?”

I give him a look, and he chuckles. “Fine. Go forth with this mysterious question.”

“Who was that girl who mugged you? Why was she meeting you there?”

He grimaces, and I can tell he had forgotten that night, forgotten my tentative questions he had evaded. Back then, I hadn’t felt comfortable enough to push for the truth, and had never brought it up again. But now, he has to tell me.

“That’s not what you want to ask, Kate. Ask me something else.”

“No,” I insist. “This is what I want. I told you my embarrassing secret. You tell me this.”

“I can’t believe you even remember that.”

“My boss stepped into my car in a bathrobe,” I say dryly. “Your dick was practically hanging out of it.”

Any other moment, he’d laugh. Now, he just runs his palms over his face. “Come on.”

I wait, and he looks at me, his face so filled with dejection that I almost drop it all. I almost give him a free pass.

But I don’t. I hold his eyes and wait for him to start.





“The woman in the hotel room…” he pauses. “She wasn’t alone. A man was with her. I had scheduled to meet both of them.” He looks up at me. “For sex.”

I attempt to school my features, to contain the thoughts that come. “Both of them?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to fuck him; it wasn’t about that. Both of us were going to please her.”

“At the same time?”

He lifts one shoulder. “Possibly. Depending on how it went. Sometimes they just like to watch.”

Sometimes they just like to watch. Will I ever forget how that sounds, the easy way it rolls off his tongue? I suddenly feel dirty, my desire to exit this conversation as strong as it had been to start it. This isn’t what I wanted to hear. This isn’t what I wanted to envision, not from him. I’ve known that Trey Marks has an active sex life. I’ve heard rumors, seen Mira and Chelsea, certainly never expected celibacy. But I also never expected this. Sometimes they just like to watch. My hands feel clammy, and I pinch the underside of my wrist in an attempt to fend off a sudden wave of lightheadedness.

“Kate?” He’s watching me, and I look away, trying to hide my disgust. I run my fingers through my hair, everything suddenly hot. He swears and pushes off the wall, coming toward my chair. “Talk to me.”

“Just a sec.” I try to cough, to clear my throat and speak, but something like a sob comes out. I press my fingers to the edge of my eyes, attempting to stop the weak leak of tears. I regain some control and straighten, inhaling a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” I exhale and feel a semblance of control. “I’m just emotional today. I don’t know why I reacted that way.”

But I do. This is major. Maybe this is the real reason why Trey has never moved past casual flirtation with me. Because he likes that, which I will never do. Sometimes they just like to watch. I meet his eyes, and the emotions in them are a combination I’ve never seen from him. Embarrassment. Sadness. Fear. He reaches for me and I flinch. He stops and stands, tucking his hands into his pockets and turning away, toward the window.

“So that’s why you didn’t know her. Or them,” I correct. “They were just some random people off … like Craigslist?” This is getting worse by the minute.

He doesn’t turn to face me. “Christ, Kate. I’m not meeting people off Craigslist. I’m part of a club, one that pairs like-minded people and couples. There’s a website where profiles are listed. I was in a bad mood that day and went off the rails, taking a risk on a new profile. It was a mistake, one that burned me.” I can see the tension in his shoulders, the rigidity of his stance.