Page 77 of Bitter Confessions

His fingers slipped from her hair. “For your sake, I hope I do.”

She gawked at him in disbelief as he rested his cheek on the bedsheets and closed his eyes, clearly prepared to go to sleep after dropping his atomic bomb. “That professor...?”

“It was a pattern of hers. I got her fired once I was established.”

“You seemed so experienced when we...”

The side of his face she could see creased in a grimace. “No one with experience would have acted the way I did during your first time. I was wild. Out of control.”

“But you taught me everything I know.”

“Read your books to see what you fantasized about. Read everything I could get my hands on about pleasing women to redeem myself after I fucked up your first time. Thank fuck you got off on it. Ninety percent of women would have called the cops. I’m too big to let myself go like that. I knew better, but I couldn’t stop. I was rough as hell. You should have kicked me out, not asked for more.” He shook his head. “Fucking miracle you liked it. I was determined to make an impression—to tie you to me so you couldn’t dismiss me and go back to Baldwin.”

“You’re a diabolical ass,” she said, but her voice held no heat.

“I got the girl. All worth it.” He slurred on the last word.

She stared at his profile, her mind whirling, as she sensed him drift off. If she was in the same room as his college professor, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself from attacking the predatory bitch. The professor had exploited the trust of a teen who was intellectually mature but physically and emotionally eons behind. The fact that she’d been with dozens of men and never been taken advantage of, but Roth had made her chest burn.

And the bitch who came after her... What woman would volunteer a second time after failing to get him off? It had to be someone who either desperately wanted him or his money. Why did she want to wake him up to demand that woman’s name, number, and address so she could beat the hell out of her? She buried her face against his hot skin and willed away the unwarranted, seething jealousy. It would have been easier to hear he’d fucked one hundred women instead of just one. Her eyes filled with tears of guilt, relief, and rage.

The casual way he imparted the story of his sexual experiences, as if everyone had been initiated by their college professor at sixteen, made her stomach roll. Had the professor ruined sex for him, or was it his aversion to his mother’s codependency that had made him suppress his body’s needs until she came along? It was no wonder he’d latched onto her. He was starved of acceptance in a world that had been nothing but cruel. The fact he’d accomplished what he had despite his hardships was a testament to his mental resilience. He’d never given in to a weakness until her. And it had destroyed everything he’d worked so hard for.

She spread-eagled protectively over him and wrapped him up tight to comfort him and herself as she watched the snow fall. She mourned the neglected boy who grew up under such dire circumstances, the naïve teen who was violated by an authority figure he clearly trusted, and the man whose only crime was seeking kindness and connection from the daughter of a tyrant who’d done his best to destroy them both. If her father hadn’t found out about the affair, maybe the novelty of their attraction would have passed. Instead, Roth had been drawn into war with her father and blackmailed, which had put her constantly in the forefront of his mind.

She jerked violently, which startled him awake.

“Jasmine?”

“Shh, sorry. Go back to sleep,” she urged, running her fingers through his hair as she tried to calm herself.

A sex tape with a professor was blackmail-worthy. For a moment, she thought he might have told her without actually telling her, but no. He’d been too composed and matter-of-fact about the incident—nothing like his reaction at Tuxedo Park with Thea—which meant it had to be something else. Something worse. Her stomach lurched. If it was worse than a grown woman with a fetish for teenage boys, she didn’t want to know.

Roth didn’t want this attachment to her. He wanted to go back to living in his head and doing business without caring how it affected anyone. His insistence that she continue with their arrangement suddenly made sense. He had to sate his fantasies to get past his obsession with her. Apparently, he had also decided to fulfill her desires as well so any man who came after him couldn’t compete.

Roth was a driven man, which meant he would accomplish his goal. He would work her out of his system and get his life back. One day, he’d treat her like everyone else. Invisible, beneath his notice. She knew, no matter how much time passed, she’d never be able to treat him like they were distant acquaintances. He was her first, and regardless of who came after him, he’d be her last. It was just her luck that she’d fallen for a man who’d never been loved, didn’t know how to love, and probably never would. Her man was an emotional mess.

She pressed kisses along his broad shoulders, hands stroking muscles that felt like steel beneath dark velvet skin. She loved on him, safe in the knowledge he was asleep and wouldn’t protest her need to attempt to heal what he didn’t even know was broken. The need to give was a compulsion she’d stifled all her life. No one wanted her love or affection—not her father, her sisters, or even her husband. Men were only interested when it came in the form of sexual favors. She would give Roth all she had, even if it left her hollow and empty. He deserved to be genuinely loved at least once in his life, even if he didn’t recognize it for what it was. After she’d unwittingly caused him more harm when he’d already suffered so much, he deserved it.

When she was satisfied that she’d kissed or caressed every square inch of him to replace any lingering past hurt imbedded in his skin, she nuzzled him before resting her cheek against his. She wrapped herself around him protectively as her eyelids drooped. She failed to notice his hand was balled into a fist.

CHAPTER 15

Roth jerked, jolting Jasmine out of a sound sleep. He lay on his back while she was cuddled against his side with an arm draped over his middle and a leg tossed over his massive thighs.

“Another one?” she rasped.

“Go back to sleep,” he rumbled as he untangled himself from her and sat up.

“This is the fourth night in a row.” She squinted at the blue numbers on the clock on his nightstand. “You barely got three hours of sleep. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“But—”

He grasped her face and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you. After I shower, I’m going to the gym.”

She gripped his wrist as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “That’s your remedy for everything. Maybe we should talk.”

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