Discovering Truths by B. Benfield (book series to read .TXT) 📗

car as my phone rang. I pressed the button on my steering wheel to answer as I backed out of the parking space.

“Hi,” I said.

“How are you feeling?” Melinda asked.

“Better now. Had a rough morning, though.”

“How was Marcus?”

“He was fine.”

I didn’t want to elaborate on what happened between us last night, or this morning. I didn’t want to talk about him at all. Why did she continuously bring him up, like I cared?

“That’s it? Fine?”

“I don’t want to go into details about him, Mel. You know this…”

“What about the other one?”

“Gage?”

“Yes.”

“What about him?”

“Well, you said you sent him a message last night.”

I should have never told her about Gage. She wanted me to end things with him and I hated to tell her that I couldn’t do it.

“Yeah…we’re good now.”

“You’re good?”

“I told him that the message was just a drunken text. I can’t let him go, Melinda.”

“Ugh, Abby…”

“I know. Trust me, I know. I remember everything we talked about last night and although I know you’re right, I just can’t let him slip away. I need him right now.”

“Alright, well. Fair enough. You’re a grown woman.” She said. The irritation in her voice wasn’t missed by me. I knew she didn’t like what I had to say.

“Don’t be mad.” I urged.

“I’m not mad. Just…disappointed I guess.”

I ended the phone call. I couldn’t listen to her anymore. I knew she was disappointed, and I knew she gave solid, sound advice. I knew she was right. The thing was…I was done listening to other people. I was done doing the right thing. I was living in my own, messed up world, and as messed up as it was…I hadn’t been this content in a long time.

***

To my surprise, when I got home, Marcus was already there. He’d laid out a dress and told me to be ready in twenty minutes. He was dressed up in nice, grey pants with a black button up shirt. I used to love that combination of colors on him, now when I looked at him, I saw nothing more than a man. Not the lover I once knew.

I followed along, playing the part just as he did. I knew it was all fake. He took me to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. Our conversation was forced and awkward, just as it had been. I didn’t let it show. I acted normal, like everything was okay. Deep down, we were totally screwed.

When we got home that evening, I expected that to be the end of our fictitious night. We’d both go to bed and pretend that we were the happy the couple. I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

I took off my clothes and threw them in the hamper, eager to crawl into my comfy shorts, when he came up behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist. He slowly moved his hands up, cupping a breast in each hand, caressing them slowly as he kissed my neck.

I almost lost my dinner.

We hadn’t been intimate in a while, and I knew that was coming next. How was I supposed to be with him knowing everything I knew about him? With everything I’d done? However, I feared that if I stopped it from happening, he’d suspect the worse. I wasn’t ready for him to know my truth. I also wasn’t ready for him to know that I knew his.

He pulled me to the bed and laid me down, hovering over top of me. He leaned down, kissing up my stomach and down between my thighs. With every touch, and every kiss, my skin crawled. I wasn’t his anymore. I felt dirty, like I was doing wrong by Gage. Truth was, I wasn’t his either.

The sooner I could get it over with, the better I’d feel. I scooted myself up and took control, placing both of my hands on his chest and pushing him down roughly. His growl of satisfaction made me sick. Aggressiveness was a turn-on for him and I knew if I climbed on top, it’d be over quickly. I used to love getting him worked up, now it was only to secure a close ending.

I straddled him and moved slowly at first before I picked up my pace, anxious to get the job done. I watched his eyes fall back into his head and he let out a deep breath, grabbing my hips to slow me.

“Wow,” he said, breathless.

I let out a small flirty, laugh before I climbed off, rushing to the bathroom to clean myself up. I started the shower, turning the knob as far as it would go on the heat setting. I was repulsed. I’d never felt more disgusting than I did in this moment. I could hear him cleaning himself up too and then he opened the shower curtain, leaning in for a kiss.

“Night,” he said against my lips.

“Goodnight.” I said.

I stayed in the shower for thirty minutes scrubbing every inch of my body repeatedly, as if the hot water and soap could actually wash away this chaos. Thoughts of Gage occupied my mind the entire time. I wondered if Marcus thought of Katie. How twisted we are. If only he discovered the truth…

Chapter Eighteen

 

Things between Marcus and I hadn’t changed. Maybe he felt like he had to have sex with me so I wouldn’t start questioning the recent lack thereof. Little did he know, I knew he was up to something, and I could have done without all of it. A tiny part of me hoped that being intimate would have brought us closer, but it didn’t. I wasn’t sure why that thought even crossed my mind. It was an obligatory task to him and since no good came of it, I wished it never happened. It