Page 12 of Indulgence
Deep sobs heaved from her body, ripping me apart as I pulled her into my arms, and she buried her face in my chest.
“Please don’t cry, love.” I stroked her wet hair as it soaked the T-shirt I’d thrown on while I waited for her to come out of the bathroom. “There’s no need to cry.”
Her fingers clung to my shirt as if were her life raft in the storm she waged in her mind. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
She looked up at me with so much emotions swimming in her brown eyes. “For this. For me. Because you are everything, and it’s me. It’s me. It isn’t your fault.”
Jesus! I had so many things to say to her, but she needed to explain first. I was running on assumptions and, eventually, that could turn into trouble.
“Nat, love, I need you to open up. You need to let me in for this to work. I need to know what’s going on.”
Her lips turned down into a frown. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Seeing you like this,” I explained, sweeping a chunk of wet hair off her face, “knowing something is bothering you and you not letting me fix it is hurting me.”
She blinked as her eyes volleyed back and forth between mine. “Natalie, I promise you. It will all be okay. Once you finally get it out into the open, you’ll see that.”
She took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Her lips parted as she let the words escape on a bated breath as if they were the worst betrayal of all. “I’m bored, Matteo.”
It should have stung, and for some men, it would have, but not so much for me. All I wanted was a happy life with a happy wife. If that meant kinking up our sex life, I could take one for the team.
Fear and remorse swarmed her eyes. It was as if she was waiting for me to drop my arms and step back from her, as if I were going to shame her and walk away.
Instead, I smiled, letting her know that I wasn’t hurt or mad or upset. “I know.”
Her brows pinched together. The brown in her eyes swirled as her lips pouted. She opened them to say something but then closed them. She opened them again and repeated the pattern two more times before asking, “How?”
I kissed the tip of her nose before grasping her hand and leading her to the bed to sit. I grabbed our coffees off the dresser and handed over hers because we were still on a time limit and Natalie definitely needed to drink at least one full cup of coffee to function correctly. Maybe I should have had her drink that before we started this conversation.
“Because I know you, love.” I smiled, standing in front of her while she sat. “I knew you were faking it from the first time.”
She shook her head as if she could make that statement untrue.
“No,” she muttered.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“How?” she asked again. My revelation reduced her to one-word sentences.
“Simple,” I replied before bringing my mug to my mouth. The coffee had no taste as I drank because my focus was on Natalie and only Natalie. “I know what you look like when you come. Your acting skills were commendable, but you forgot one thing.”
Her fingers curled tighter around the mug cradled between her palms. “What’s that?”
“You closed your eyes,” I told her. “You never close your eyes.”
“Okay, but how did that mean I was bored?”
“I didn’t know you were bored. I just knew you were having to fake orgasms. I knew something was wrong, but you never said anything.” I raised an eyebrow, but when she didn’t offer up an explanation, I continued, “I waited and waited until I couldn’t wait any longer, so I snooped through your iPad to see what I could find out.”
There were no traces of anger on her face. Her shoulders didn’t stiffen. She barely moved except to shake her head slightly as if the pieces still didn’t fit together correctly. “But I never said anything to anyone, how could you have known?”
“Your search history was a big tell.”
The pink returned to her cheeks but darkened to a deep rouge. She stammered over her words, tripping over her tongue, trying to find something to say as if she even needed to explain herself. “That was . . . I mean—you were never supposed to see that.”
Taking the coffee from her hand, I put both of our mugs back on the dresser. I sat next to her and took her hand in mine and shook my head. “Why not? You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. There isn’t anything wrong with wanting a little spice, love. All you had to do was tell me.”
