“Wow.” Andrew lifted his head out of the bundle of her hair, keeping her pinned. “Let me go get a washcloth.” He kissed her nose. “I want to taste you again.”
Her body sizzled at the thought of his mouth on her.
He returned from the bathroom and sat next to her comfortable in his nakedness. Every magnificent inch of him fascinated her.
The warm wet washcloth hit her skin, instantly soothing her. He ran it under warm water!
Needing a better look at him, she flicked the nightstand lamp on. Wow. So gorgeous.
He turned the cloth over a few times. “That should do it.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
She held his face when he did, his anxious tongue found hers and swirled calmly and smoothly in her mouth.
He drew back and looked in her eyes. “Gwen?”
“Yeah,” she responded, her head still in the clouds.
“Do you... With your husband, did you...come often?”
She bit her lip. “Not really. He didn’t seem too interested in my pleasure.”
“Idiot.” Andrew sat back, the lines of his face captured by the lamp light. Any shadow of gloom had disappeared. He was glowing, happy.
“How about a shower?” she said, swinging her legs off the bed.
“I could give you a sponge bath. Just clean your whole body myself. Why let the water have all the fun?” He leaned in and kissed her. “Let me run this under the water again and...” His hand jerked away as if something bit him. When she glanced down, his mouth hung open. “Gwen, what’s that scar?”
Uh-oh. Her hands shot up to cover her right breast and the recent puncture mark, courtesy of Dr.
Sage. Without the light shining down on her, shadows hid the other smaller scars. The stark light of an LED bulb put her troubles on display. Unlike last time, in the hurried love making bliss, where Andrew had only kept his eyes on her face, this time, her entire body captivated him. Except now he saw everything.
Perhaps she should have mentioned the issues she’d been having weeks ago when the subject of both Cate and her mother had come up. She and Andrew had been getting to know each other again, professionally this time. Abnormal mammograms didn’t seem to be an ‘officey’ subject. With a male, no less.
Yet, they just crossed the line. Wildly humped across it.
“Gwendolyn, what’s going on here?” He pointed, sitting back.
Any moisture left in her mouth turned as dry as the desert mountains off in the distance. Her gaze fell upon her own skin, joining Andrew’s stare.
“I’ve had some biopsies,” she choked out.
“Some biopsies?” He moved his beautiful body away.
She tried to stop him. “Andrew, wait, listen.”
“I’m listening, Gwen.” But his touch was gone.
“I keep having abnormal mammograms.”
“Abnormal?” he asked with sheer panic in his voice. “Do you have breast cancer in your family?”
She bit the inside of her mouth, choosing not to respond to his question. “Look, all these scars are from biopsies proving that I’m fine.” Gwen pointed to the faded crescent around her areola and several smaller puncture wounds.
“Why are there so many?”
“Because my radiology doctor is biopsy-happy. Every piece of tissue has come back negative.
Andrew, please, I’m fine.”
“One of those looks fresh.”
“Yes, they’re just routine procedures.”
The rich color in Andrew’s skin from his arousal faded. “You didn’t answer me. You told me weeks ago your mother passed away. How did she die, Gwen?” He stood.
“That was a long time ago,” she snapped.
“She died of breast cancer, didn’t she?” Andrew asked holding his boxers.
“There wasn’t regular screening back then. She had lumps, the size of golf balls in both breasts for years. She just did nothing about it.”
“But Gwen, you know what that means.” The man stood frozen watching her.
“Yes. I know what it means. But every test has come back negative.” She swung her legs off the bed.
With only the gown lying close by, she’d have to dig through her luggage to put something else on.
She didn’t want to have this conversation naked.
“I...I went through so much, Gwen. I may not be able to do all that again.” Andrew didn’t appear to have the patience to wait for the right place and time to have a rational discussion.
“But I am fine, damn it.” She spun around and faced the lights of Downtown L.A.
From the outside, the tinted windows wouldn’t reveal her bare body. Only the inner reflection caught the glistening of a tear starting to roll down her cheeks.
“Gwen, talk to me.”
A stark picture of her life with Andrew came into focus. She hadn’t connected any dots of what his experience and what she’d been going through meant if they... The concept of her and Andrew had only sharpened a few days ago. This whole sex-capade didn’t start with a discussion, it started with passionate kissing.
The photos of Cate from the blog flashed through Gwen’s mind. What the disease had done to her.
How it mangled her body. Poor Andrew had to watch it all happen. When Gwen said losing a mother differed from a spouse, she meant it. Yes, she’d watched her mother wither away too, but her father had been there to bathe her, to hold her head when she vomited. Gwen also had Greg and Skye to help when her father needed a break.
There had been no break for Andrew.
Andrew... If this went forward, he’d be on their side. The family she loved who’d been hounding her, treating her differently, keeping things from her, thinking she had too much on her mind to take being told her father had shot someone. We didn’t want to upset you, Gwen.
It would have made sense to sell that stupid house and move in with her dad, or even Skye. But their worried faces would stare at her every day. No, her house was a sanctuary. It had a front door she could close and lock to get away from their constant meddling. She understood their fears and how they didn’t want to lose her, too.
“I’m not sick!” Gwen yelled at people who weren’t in the room.
“I know you’re not.” Andrew approached her, worry in his eyes from what she could see reflected in the glass panels in front of her. “But it seems you’re taking a very cavalier attitude toward something that could be—”
“It’s late.” She wiped her eyes and pulled the coverlet off the bed. Facing him, bravely, she said,
“I think this was a mistake.”
“Gwen, wait.” He brought his hands up, but dropped them to his side. After a few more seconds of silence, he rubbed his face. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”
Her breath clipped like she’d been hoping for more of a fight from him. Sighing, she nodded. “I’m sorry.”
When he didn’t acknowledge her apology, Gwen stepped inside her bathroom and slammed the door shut.
ANDREW INCHED TOWARD the bathroom door and rested his palm against the smooth satiny wood. Was this a mistake? It didn’t feel like a mistake. How could something that felt so right, turn out this bad? So fast?
He lifted his hand to knock on the door. He had to tell her about Milan. The extended trip had sat in the corner of his mind while they made love. No, by all means, continue with your fun.