Page 122 of Untouchable

“I know. Of course I know that. But it just felt… I don’t know.” She pulled out of his arms and straightened up so she was kneeling beside him on the bed. She looked down on him, her hair tumbling down her back and the straps of her little gown slipping off her shoulders. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have had sex with you like that when I wasn’t in the mood. I’m sorry.”

A tension in his chest relaxed. In spite of everything, his body couldn’t help but respond to the sight of her kneeling above him, the lush outline of her breasts beneath the fabric of her gown, the full curve of her lips. “I’m sorry too.”

Kelly must have noticed the signs of his growing arousal even though he had no intention of acting on it. The mood was deep and intense between them—almost uncertain in a way that wasn’t like either one of them.

Caleb wanted her as much as he always had, but he felt like she was somehowmorethan she’d ever been before.

Or maybe he was finally recognizing all of who she was.

She still looked lost and confused and beautiful. Her breasts swayed slightly as she moved, and her hair cascaded down around her body as she leaned over him.

She pushed the covers down, slid her hand under his waistband, wrapped her fingers around his cock, and started pumping it steadily, her breasts jiggling slightly with her motion.

Caleb stared at her, feeling just as lost and confused as she looked. But he could sense some of the pulsing ache inside him transform to a building climax.

She was giving him something, but he wanted to give her something too. So he nudged at her thighs with his hand until she parted them farther, and he slipped his fingers in between until he’d found her pussy.

She gasped when he maneuvered one finger and then two inside her. He started to move them.

So in breathless, fumbling silence, they brought each other to orgasm with their hands. It should have been embarrassing—like two groping teenagers instead of experienced adults. It was awkward, almost childish.

But Caleb couldn’t bring himself to care.

He felt Kelly’s hand on his cock as she built up the coiled tension in his body. He pumped and curled his fingers inside her. He stared at her twisted face, almost hidden by her hair, and at her tensing body.

Soon Caleb’s body was tensing too, and his pelvis was bucking a little.

He heard Kelly suck in a breath and freeze abruptly. Then whimper as she moved clumsily over his hand.

Her fingers clenched around his cock spasmodically until Caleb came too, with a grunt and an upward thrust.

Afterward Kelly fell asleep, his arm around her, her head resting against his chest.

Caleb didn’t sleep at all.

He stayed awake and brooded all night.

He wasn’t thinking about his business. He wasn’t thinking about Vinnie DiMauro and the secrets that could never come out. He wasn’t thinking about sins for which he could never atone. He wasn’t thinking about Kelly’s ex-lover and the trauma from her past that she would never tell him.

He wasn’t even thinking explicitly about Kelly, although she was underlying every one of his thoughts.

As he lay in the dark until dawn, Caleb tried to remember all the women he’d fucked. All the call girls, one-night stands, other men’s wives and girlfriends. Tried to remember their names, their faces, the color of their eyes.

And couldn’t.

He tried to remember the name of the last woman he’d fucked before Kelly. Only a couple of months ago, before Kelly had entered his life. She had been brunette, that one-night stand. Her name had been one of those silly diminutives, but he couldn’t even remember what it was.

Caleb wondered what she’d been like—for real, beyond the sex they’d had—what she might have really wanted. He wondered if she’d cried like Kelly had after he’d fucked her.

And the woman before her had been a call girl, a woman with a full history that had brought her to that place. And the one before that… he didn’t know.

An endless stretch of empty experiences.

Every one of the women Caleb had ever fucked had chosen it, had consciously agreed to it. They’d seduced him, asked him, begged him, accepted the money he’d offered.

But Caleb wondered, as he lay beside Kelly that night and didn’t sleep at all, about every one of them—all of the women over all of the years who had somehow ended up in his bed.

They’d said yes. Every one.