Page 45 of Kiss From A Rose

I nodded, the familiar excuse rolling off my tongue. “I'd come home late or work late in the study. She'd already be asleep, and I just slept in the guestroom, so I didn't disturb her.”

Dr. Ogle leaned forward slightly, his fingers intertwined. “Is that something you did throughout your marriage?"

I shook my head. The room felt suddenly tighter, the air thicker. "No. Just the past several months…maybe a year or so, I think."

"Is there a specific event that happened?"

I hesitated, my voice merely a whisper when I finally spoke. "I’ve been thinking a lot about this,andI'm not sure, or maybe I am. Something did happen that didn't register right away but does now."

He nodded, waiting.

I'd come home late…again. Rose was asleep, but she'd left a note on the small table where I dropped my keys.

My darling Gray, there's food in the fridge on a plate for you if you haven't eaten. You just need to give it a minute in the microwave. There's pecan pie as well. –Rose

Guilt gnawed at me. Why did she have to be so fucking thoughtful? I'd eaten with Aimee and a couple of other colleagues after working late. We'd actually had a nice dinner at Marcel with a bottle of wine. I'd taken an Uber home, leaving my car at work. I never bothered to tell Rose when my plans changed, even though she asked about dinner every damn morning. Sure, I'd give her a heads-up then, but if shit hit the fan during the day? Radio silence. Today was no different, my dinner plans went sideways, and Rose had been at home with a plate of homemade food waiting for a husband who wouldn't show.

That was a lousy thing to do to the wife who loved me and took care of me. Fuck, Rose did everything I needed for me. My suits were dry-cleaned. My shirts were ironed. My shoes were polished. If I invited people home for dinner, she'd cook a fine meal and serve it with the right wine. Everyone was impressed with Rose's hostess skills. If I needed to talk, she'd be there. Whatever I needed or wanted, Rose gave.

I wearily went into the bedroom, hoping Rose was asleep so I wouldn't have to face my thoughtless behavior. But she was awake in a nightshirt and shorts, reading. The blue silk of her nightwear shimmered against her skin, making her glow. My wife was fucking gorgeous.

She set her iPad aside and smiled at me. "You looked tired, honey. Have you eaten?"

As she was about to get out of bed, I waved a hand at her. "I ate. Some of us went to Marcel."

As soon as the name of the restaurant was out, I could see the tightness on her face—it lasted an instant and was then gone, replaced by her genuine smile.

I didn't have to think too hard about why she looked hurt for that moment she allowed me to see.

Was it last Friday that Rose had made reservations at Marcel, telling me not to forget dinner? Yes, it was last Friday. Just four days ago, I'd bluntly told her I didn't have time for dinner or whatever. I was exhausted after a long week and just wanted to head to bed.

She smiled and nodded understandingly, telling me that she wanted to go because the chef had invited her. She'd met him when she volunteered at a shelter, and they'd hit it off.

How could I have been so careless? So, fucking callous? But I had.

"We'll go sometime soon," I cleared my throat. "Ah…I need a shower."

I escaped into the bathroom. When I came to bed, she lay on her side, facing mine. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she was awake.

I got in beside her and immediately wanted her. Bad! Like always. I was hungry for her. I lay on my back and outstretched one arm. She snuggled in and lay her head on my shoulder, her small, delicate hands on my chest.

I stroked the silk of her sleep tank, sliding beneath it to feel her even smoother skin.

I kissed her then. Unable to resist her. I wanted to fill myself with her taste, with her. I couldn't wait to be inside her. I never could.

I got her naked and pleaded, "Babe, I want inside you."

She held out her arms and spread her legs. "Yes, my darling Gray."

Fuck, she was so giving, so soft, so warm. I didn't have the patience to make her come first, which I almost always did. Not this time. I had had a long and stressful day, and she was my reward—my fucking salvation.

I slipped into her and felt her wet and ready for me. "Fuck, Rose." My nose nuzzled her neck.

I began to move inside her. I had no control. I was slamming into her, and she raised her hips each time.

"Get there, Rose," I mumbled, "I can't hold on."

She stroked my back and hitched a thigh up, welcoming me further in. That's all the invitation I needed. I began to hammer into her and came quickly, faster than I normally did.

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