Stuck-Up Suit(71)

“I’m okay.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She stayed silent, and it was starting to seriously alarm me.

I brushed the back of my hand along her cheek. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I know that the stuff with Genevieve and Chloe hasn’t been easy for you. I need you to talk to me when things are bothering you, not keep them inside. There’s nothing we can’t work through as long as you don’t keep things from me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. My mood is just off tonight. Can we just go lie down?”

I examined her face before responding, “Sure.”

Despite her explanation, an ominous cloud seemed to follow us as we headed into her bedroom. I whipped my tie off. As I unbuttoned my shirt, Soraya was just sitting on the bed, watching me. I loved the fact that she was so enthralled with my undressing, but to be honest, it was a little odd and uncharacteristic for her to just be staring at me like that. She was definitely not acting herself tonight.

Throwing my shirt on the chair, I said, “You don’t want to talk, then I’m gonna have to find another way to make you feel better.”

She stood up and walked over to me then slowly traced her index finger around the tattoo of her name over my heart. “The fact that you did this means so much to me. I don’t think I ever really expressed that enough.”

“You mean so much to me. You brought me back to life, Soraya. This was the least I could do to express how I feel. It represents how you’re always with me, even when we can’t physically be together because of work or Chloe. Ultimately, knowing you’re there for me and that you have my back is what’s getting me through.”

She continued to stare at my ink when she asked, “Will you make love to me?”

“Was there ever a question about whether that would be happening right now?”

“No, but I want take it slow tonight. Savor it.”

“I can do slow.”

Sex couldn’t solve everything, but I was sure as hell going to try to f*ck her out of this funk she was in. I was going to show her with my body exactly how much I loved her, that there was nothing we couldn’t get through as long as we stuck together both literally and figuratively.

She reached up and started to kiss me passionately in a way that almost felt desperate. As we collapsed onto the bed, her grip around my neck was tight as she pulled me to her, spreading her legs open wide.

“Please,” she begged.

Seeing her bare and spread eagle like that, I immediately had to remind myself of her request to take it slow, because in that moment, I just wanted to ravage her *.

As I entered her, she let out the most beautiful gasp into my ear. Moving in and out with a slow and hard intensity, I realized that there was definitely a difference between pure, unbridled f*cking and making mad, passionate love. You had to be truly in love with someone to achieve the latter. And I was definitely in love with Soraya in a way that I had never been with anyone before. It was time to let her know.

As I sunk into her, trying not to crush her with the weight of my eager body, I whispered into her ear, “I love you so much, Soraya.” Withdrawing and thrusting all the way into her again, I repeated, “I love you.”

She responded simply by grasping onto me tighter, bucking her hips and guiding my body. I wanted so badly for her to return those three words back to me. Instead, she remained silent until I felt wetness on my shoulders.

She was crying.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

My heart was beating faster. Had I been delusional in thinking that she was handling everything okay? Was it all unraveling?

When I slowed my movements, she muttered, “Don’t stop, Graham. Please don’t stop.”

Frustrated, I picked up the pace, f*cking her harder than I meant to. She screamed out in pleasure as her muscles pulsated around my cock. I came so hard, emptying inside of her.

Our chests rose and fell as we panted on top of one another.

She looked into my eyes for the longest time and seemed to be struggling with her words. What she finally said nearly undid me.

“Your name may not be tattooed over my heart, but it will always be etched into my soul. I’ve spent over two decades thinking I was incapable of being loved. Thank you for proving me wrong. You’ve changed my life.”

Even though it didn’t contain the three words I hoped to hear, in many ways, it meant even more.

We made love three more times that night, each time more intense than the last. While Soraya finally fell asleep in my arms, a foreboding feeling kept me awake.

***

OVER THE NEXT WEEK, it started to become clear that I’d had good reason to be worried. Soraya gave me a different story every night as to why she couldn’t see me.

Her sister needed help moving.

Her mother wanted to go shopping.

She had plans with Tig and Delia.

Dread multiplied each day as I thought back to our last encounter, which while sensual and passionate had elements of bizarre behavior on Soraya’s part.

As much as her words about my changing her life touched me, I couldn’t help obsessing over the fact that not once had she used the word love. With each passing hour, that omission seemed to have growing significance.

Maybe she didn’t love me.

Either way, something was wrong, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I tried hard to give her the space she apparently wanted. I focused on Chloe to take my mind off of the fact that Soraya was distancing herself from me.