Page 88 of Speak of the Devil

“Okay.” She takes a breath that seems to calm her tightened expression, softening the corners of her eyes. Her hand never stops jerking me off, not even a break in rhythm.

I shudder, wanting to collapse on the mattress. But she keeps me here, where it feels so good, so close to giving in to her hard work. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have condoms. It’s the one thing I forgot.Fuck.”

“Oh.” She stops, making me regret saying anything. Waiting to say anything for two more minutes would have worked out a lot better for me. She lies back with her breath coming heavy. “Oh no,” she says, draping her arm over her forehead. “That means . . .” Dropping her arm back to the mattress, she looks at me like I’ve stolen her favorite toy. Maybe I am that for her. I smirk even though nothing about this situation is funny.

“What does it mean? I mean, I know, but what were you going to say?”

She hesitates. I already know why. We haven’t talked about our sex lives. I think she wanted to avoid it as well. We’ve not exchanged details like how long and test results, so I don’t blame her for any reluctancy. I blame myself.

My sex life has been plastered across gossip sites since we became famous. It was shoved in her face without wanting the information. Different women in other states and countries, actresses, models, even a UN Ambassador. Online sites don’t get clicks for the truth. That’s boring to most. They get paid for the juicy gossip. I don’t talk about my history because there’s never been anyone worth mentioning.Until Cat.

“You’re worried about my past?”

“I don’t have to worry about mine.” She scrapes the tips of her nails over the scruff on my chin. “I’m sorry, but I need to protect myself.”

“Not from me. Not ever.”

“As a nurse?—”

“It’s okay.” I kiss her head and move beside her, lying flat on the mattress. “My medical portal is online. I can show it to you.”

Sucking in a breath, she closes her lids just briefly, seeming to allow her to gather strength. “It’s not a fun topic, but it is important.” She exhales. “To me.”

“It is to me, too.” I run my knuckles over the back of her hand, then hold it in the small space between our legs. There’s no easy way to have this conversation, but right before fucking adds another layer of complication. I turn to my right to find her already looking at me. “I’ve not been with anyone since you, and we never?—”

“No, we didn’t,” she says, sadness coating her tongue. I hate that she only remembers the pain instead of the happiness we shared. It took me a long time to get here, and I won’t taint that period with what went wrong. But I understand her dealing with it at her own pace.

Sitting up, I grin at her, though, needing the levity. “It’s been fucking torture. We were so close to getting the deed done.”

“I don’t know how you survived the pain?” I’m detecting a note of sarcasm in her tone, and I’m glad to hear it.

“Not going to lie. I took a lot of showers.”

She rubs my back to soothe the trauma I experienced. Smirking, I say, “After taking all the tests, I passed with flying colors . . . passed as in I got the go-ahead on my bill of health last month, Nurse. I get my reputation may worry?—”

“Was itjustyour reputation,” she asks, twisting her lips to the side, “or was it you living the rock star lifestyle to the fullest?Which I have no reason to be mad about. We might have been married, but we weren’t committed to each other.”

She takes hold of my hand and gives a comforting squeeze as if she understands my struggles because my wife is amazing.

“We’ve come too far to hide any secrets. They always find their way to the light.”

Nothing about her body language or expression changes. She stares at me like I’m still the hero instead of the villain. “You can tell me anything. I’d rather know the truth.”

“I came close a couple of times last September on the tour.” I shouldn’t feel ashamed since I had every right, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Why didn’t you go through with it?”

Turning to find her eyes on mine, no judgment set inside the golden centers, I lean over and kiss her cheek. “Because they weren’t you.”

Pressing her palm on my chest, she leverages herself above me. “You’re more amazing than you know, Shane Faris.” She kisses me and then whispers, “You see yourself through the paparazzi lens instead of who you are in real life. But I see you. I see everything you’re doing to change for me. You don’t have to.” Bouncing her head to the side, she laughs. “The usual still stands. No cheating or hurting each other again, but I fell in love with you, not the rock star persona you embody for others.”

A tightening in my chest has me reaching to loosen the knot forming.

She sees me. There’s nothing more I could ever want than to have this perfect being love me for who I am on the inside. And that she likes my ass helps.

---