Chapter 23
His words still echoed in my head.
“Unless you want me to.”
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The room felt smaller after he said it. I was still backed up against the wall, barely breathing, and his eyes were on mine. The silence was thick between us. Neither of us moved.
Then he reached out and let his hand slide to my waist.
I stiffened.
His palm rested there, fingers brushing lightly against the side of my stomach. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin towel. My stomach clenched, and my knees felt weak. I hated how my body reacted to him. Hated that my chest was tight, not just from nerves but from something warmer, something I didn’t want to admit was real.
I looked up at him, ready to speak, but he stepped back first.
“We should sleep,” he said. His voice was quiet again, flat like none of that had happened.
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded once and walked toward my suitcase. I changed in the bathroom, slipped into the dark silk nightgown I had packed without thinking it would ever actually be worn. It barely reached mid–thigh. Thin straps, soft neckline and no padding.
I walked back into the bedroom.
He was already in bed, one arm thrown behind his head, eyes closed. The sheet covered him to the waist, chest bare. He didn’t move when I walked in, didn’t say a word. I climbed in on the other side, slowly, careful not to get too close.
The bed felt huge but not big enough.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, completely still. Every time he shifted even a little, I froze. I could hear his breathing, deep and steady. He was either asleep or pretending really well.
My body was restless. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. I hated how warm I felt between my legs, hated that I kept thinking about the pool, the photos, his hands on my waist. My thighs pressed together under the sheet. I turned to my side, tried to breathe slowly.
It didn’t help.
Rick might not remember anything about our past, but every bit of my body remembered how much I had needed him and how much I had loved him and how he knew every bit of me. I could already feel the wetness pooling between my thighs now and it wasn’t helping in any way.
After another ten minutes of lying there, every nerve in my body tense and screaming, I gave up.
I climbed out of bed slowly and walked to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me quietly, not bothering
to lock it. I sat down on the closed toilet lid, pressing the edge of the sink counter with one hand for
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balance.
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I let my other hand trail down slowly, between my thighs, over the smooth fabric of my nightgown.
My breath hitched immediately.
It felt embarrassing, wrong, and yet somehow like the only thing I could do to stay sane. My fingers moved slower, softer, and my hips shifted without meaning to. A soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
I bit down on my knuckle.
My hands continued their exploration, moving downward, my fingers tracing the curve of her stomach, the soft skin responding to her touch.
I leaned back, my body arching slightly as my fingers reached the waistband of my silk panties.
With a slow, teasing motion, I slipped my hand beneath the fabric, my fingers brushing against the soft curls, sending a wave of heat through me.
My breath quickened, my chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. My fingers delved deeper and I moaned again, louder this time, my voice filled with need.
My fingers moved in rhythm, i was lost in the sensation, my body responding to her touch.
My hips began to move, a subtle thrusting motion that matched the rhythm of my fingers. My breasts heaved with each breath, the nipples tight and erect, begging for attention.
I didn’t even hear the footsteps. Just the knock, two slow taps on the bathroom door.
My heart dropped.
Rick’s voice came through, low and unimpressed. “If you’re really going to do that, can you at least be more quiet?”
My face flushed so fast I thought I’d pass out. I didn’t even have time to say anything before the door opened.
He stepped inside like it was nothing.
Barefoot, shirtless and calm.
My mouth opened but no words came out.
Rick looked down at me, his eyes dragging over the way I sat with my knees drawn up, my nightgown bunched slightly around my thighs, one hand still frozen in place.
His eyes met mine and I thought I was dreaming. I snapped out of my trance when I saw him starting to walk towards me and I blinked multiple times
“What are you…” I started to say but he reached me in a few strides, cutting my words shut.
He suddenly crouched in front of me, and my eyes followed, still in absolute shock from it all.
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Chapter 23
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His hand reached for mine, the one still caught between my legs. He moved it aside and replaced it with his own. My whole body tensed, breath catching in my throat.
“You clearly need help finishing,” he said. His voice was calm. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t mocking. Just… matter of fact, “and the least I can do as your husband is helping you.”
“wh–what are you –”
“You’ve done enough for us,” his voice was husky and lower as if we were talking about eating dinner so casually, “I can do this much for you.”
My hands gripped the edge of the sink behind me as his fingers brushed over me through the fabric.
“Rick…” I tried to brush his hand away but he had both hands under my thighs by now.
He looked up at me, his eyes locked on mine.
“Keep looking at me,” he said.
And I did.
“It’s nothing to feel embarrassed about, it’s only natural for you to have this need, and I’ll satisfy it for you.”
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