The naked truth: a romantic erotic short story

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The Naked Truth



Madison Martin






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Chances Press, LLC on Smashwords


The Naked Truth

Copyright © 2011 by Madison Martin


All rights reserved. Without limiting therights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publicationmay be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without theprior written permission of both the copyright owner and the abovepublisher of this book.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of theauthor's imagination or are used fictitiously. The authoracknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of variousproducts referenced in this work of fiction, which have been usedwithout permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is notauthorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademarkowners.





“I don’t like goodbyes.”

Standing before me while I sat on the edge ofhis living room chair, Will took my face in his hands and made me apromise. “It’s not goodbye. I won’t be gone that long.”

“Two weeks feels like forever.”

I slid my dress off my body and reached forhim, determined to get him out of his shirt and pants as fast as Icould. I wanted his hard body on top of me, my hands all over him.I wanted his work clothes off and him deep inside me before heleft. I’d never get my fill of him, but at least for the next fewhours, he was mine, and I could try.

“You think this’ll be easy for me?” he asked,his eyes fixed on me while he undid his tie and tossed it on thecoffee table.

I stood up and pulled him closer. I bit mylower lip. “It won’t?”

“It’s going to kill me.”

He leaned down to kiss me but I lowered myhead, bent on my efforts to get him undressed. My fingers undid thebuttons of his shirt, and his eyes grew hazy while he watched mestrip it off. I ran my hands down his chest, savoring the feel ofthe smooth, hard muscles, my fingers roaming into the indentationsbetween them. As I unbuckled his belt, Will’s hands worked theirway down my belly and over my hips.

I liked the clean, masculine smell of him,and after I’d gotten him naked, I liked the feel of his skin undermy hands. I liked that tonight, he was mine, no matter where heplanned to go in the morning.

“Will you be with anyone else while you’re inNew York?” I asked.

His hands splayed through my hair and hisgreen-gray eyes met mine. “No.” He was a serious guy, but I’d neverseen such a serious look on his face before. “Will you wait forme?”

I nodded.

In the months we’d been together, we hadn’tbeen apart more than a few days, and I didn’t know how I’d makeit.

My hands exploring the soft skin of hisshoulders excited me, and I traced my finger over the rough traceof stubble on his jaw. I loved this masculine part of him. I lovedkissing his throat and licking the pulse at the base of it, so Idid.

He responded by pushing my hair aside withone hand and burying his face in the crook of my neck. His mouththere made me shiver.

“When we first met, I never thought you’dfuck me,” he said.

“No?” I asked.

“Nah. You had all that other stuff going on.Thought I was the last thing on your mind.”

“But you still wanted me to.”

“Yeah. Didn’t think you liked me, though. Notlike that.”

“So you…thought about me? Before we weretogether?”

“Every minute.”

I reached down and touched him. He was hard,and I loved the feel of his cock in my hand. I stroked up and down,and when his mouth met mine, I felt him pulse in my palm.

“Did you ever touch yourself thinking aboutme?” I murmured, my mouth grazing over his.

He stifled a groan as my fingers stroked him.“Yeah.”

I loved the rough sound of his voice when Iexcited him. He was always so focused, so in control. I loved thatabout him, but I wanted to see if I could make him lose it.

“When we fucked that first time, was it asgood as it was in your mind?” I asked.


I let out a small moan at his reply,remembering how good it was.

I had no idea what I’d gotten into then, andI didn’t now. I was pinned up against the wall, with nowhere toturn, except into him, and I knew he liked it that way. His handsreached down to strip off my panties. I stepped out of them andhitched one leg around his thigh, anxious to feel his flesh againstmine.

“I thought about you, too,” I said.

Rubbing his body against mine, he shifted hiships until his cock stirred between my thighs, sliding between myfolds. His mouth met mine as he stroked against me, opening me forhim, and I gasped against his mouth.

“You said no when I asked you out,” hesaid.

“I know. You were right. I had a lot goingon. But I wanted you to fuck me. Just like I do now.”

Will groaned, lifting me off the ground withboth hands. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me tobed.



The ring of my cell phone startled me out ofmy memories of the night before Will left, and I almost knocked thepile of paperwork off the small table I sat at in Lina’s Café.Thoughts of that night had driven me crazy the past few weeks, andI had big plans for us when his plane landed at LAX tonight.

I snatched my phone off the table andanswered the call. A muffled voice over a loudspeaker made anannouncement in the background.

“Hey,” Will said. The sound of his masculine,deep voice sent a familiar shiver of excitement down my spine.

“Where are you?”

“Still at LaGuardia. My flight gotcancelled.”

The long weeks we’d spent apart instantly gotlonger at the news, but I stifled my disappointment. “Any idea whenyou’ll be back?”

“Everything’s booked. Tomorrow night.”

“Okay.” I tried not to be selfish. After all,he was the one stuck in New York another night, when for the pastweek all he’d talked about was coming home.

“I know we had plans.”

“Did we ever,” I replied. He’d been sofocused on work that we hadn’t had so much as phone sex since heleft, and we had a lot of making up to do.

“How about you let me make it up you?” hesuggested.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You free tomorrow night and allweekend?”

I stared at my laptop and thought about thenever ending pile of work awaiting me in the office. I thoughtabout the calls to clients I had to make, the meetings I needed toprepare for, and the research I planned to do. I knew Will wouldmake it worth my while if I could rearrange my schedule. I clearedmy throat. “Nothing I can’t get done tonight and next week.”

“Meet me in the bar in the Madigan Hotel inSanta Monica tomorrow night at eight?”

I’d off-handedly mentioned that I’d alwayswanted to stay there, just to check it out. I was surprised he’dremembered. “I think I can make that work.” I paused. “What shouldI bring?”

“Casual. Something to wear to dinner. Abathing suit if you want. You won’t need much else.”

I smiled at that admission, wondering whatthis was all about. “This sounds like more than making tonight upto me. What’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be an occasion?”

“Not with you,” I replied. But knowing him, Ifigured there probably was. “But is there?”

A few seconds of silence followed on theother end. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I wracked my brain to figure out what itcould be. He knew I had no patience. “Can’t you tell me over thephone?”


I knew begging wouldn’t do any good. “Fine.Tomorrow at eight.”

As I hung up, my friend Adrianne set a coffeemug on the table and sat down across from me. I’d been so focusedtrying to hear Will over the noise that I hadn’t even noticed hercome into the café. I’d hardly seen her lately and we’d agreed tospend an hour catching up.

“Thanks for meeting me,” I said.

“Of course. Although, I think that phone calljust confirmed my suspicions.”

“Suspicions about what?”

“Will. I think he’s spoiling you rotten,” shenoted, and took a sip from the coffee mug. “That was him,right?”

I gave her a knowing smile. “Caught.”

“I figured. It’s getting serious, huh?”

I slid my phone in my purse, eyeing her.“What makes you say that?”

Adrianne shrugged. “Kind of obvious, isn’tit? Last weekend he took you to Seibert’s for a very expensivedinner, followed by a play at an intimate little theater onMelrose. Then a drive up the coast late the next morning for apicnic lunch on the beach. The weekend before that he took you todinner at your favorite dive, where the atmosphere is cozy and thefood is good. Afterward he whipped out surprise tickets to a smallshow at the Eleven Club to see a band you love.” She paused. “Theweekend before that—”

“Okay. Enough!” I laughed.

“I could go on and on. I’ve put all thelittle details you’ve given me together to paint this picture ofwhat’s been going on. I dare you to tell me I’ve got it allwrong.”

I blushed and stared at the floor. Could Ideny it?

Adrianne squinted. “So my assumptions aretrue. Damn. I knew it. It’s serious.”

I shrugged, my cheeks flushing. “Now there,you’re wrong.” I shook my head, fumbling with my empty coffee mug.“Will is just…a diversion.”

“No. This all adds up to something.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re moving on.” Adrianne sat upstraighter, her serious tone scaring me. “I’m glad you’re movingon, Michaela. It’s about damn time. And he’s a great guy to move onwith. Am I off-base about that?”

I’d avoided thinking about how or why I’dgotten involved with Will. I tried to avoid thinking about our timetogether as anything but having fun.

“Better grab him before someone else does,”Adrianne warned.

“No, it’s…it’s not like that. This isn’tgoing anywhere. It can’t.”

“Why not?”

I shook my head, my eyes focused on thefloor. “I don’t love him,” I murmured.I can’t.

The words sounded cruel, but I had no desireto love another man again. Not after spending two years of my lifeat a sick man’s bedside, only to have him leave me for anotherwoman when he recovered.

I look at you and I feel like I’m right backwhere I was.

I shuddered at the words I’d never been ableto get out of my mind. They’d echoed all around me when I gotserved the divorce papers, and I’d felt nothing but anger.

According to all of my friends I’d ruined thebest years of my life when I married a man much too old for me. I’dloved him, though, and decided to stick by him after he became illand needed my constant care. After he left me, I wanted no part oflove. Love meant nothing.

Will handled my end of the divorce, and amonth after it finalized, he asked me out. Still reeling withbitterness for any man who came near me, I’d said no. He’d given mesome time, and three months later, I gave in and went out with him.It was curiosity more than anything. I wanted to find out what hisinterest in me was. It wasn’t my money, because I’d asked fornothing out of the divorce. I made a good living as a financialadvisor and I hadn’t wanted a dime of my ex’s money. All I’d wantedwas to put the whole experience behind me.

I thought maybe Will felt sorry for me, butwe laughed and had a good time together and part of me didn’t careif he did.

Unlike my ex, Will was eager to get me intobed. I slept with him for the first time after our fourth date:we’d gone to dinner to at a tiny restaurant tucked away a fewblocks behind the beach, and to a small coffee shop for dessertafterward. As soon as we sat down with lattes and a piece of peanutbutter pie we planned to split, he looked over at me across thetable, and we both knew there was no point in holding back anylonger. Back at his place, we’d spent the rest of the night makinglove. The sex was unbelievable.

Afterward, lying next to him on the bed withtears rolling down my cheeks, I’d decided I would be in this forthe sex and nothing else. With a husband I’d slept with only ahandful of times before he’d gotten sick, and not much experiencebefore that, I’d been more than eager to find out what I’d beenmissing my entire life.

As I continued to see him, Will did thingsto me I never dreamed existed. The first time he started to go downon me, I squirmed and tried to push him away.

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