Candid Confessions Bundle #3 (18 page)

‘What does
that
mean?’ I grabbed the remote
control and switched the TV off. ‘Why shouldn’t it work?’

Ellen struggled to find the right words. ‘Brad is an
awesome guy, that’s for sure. But you really need to think about
the foundation of this “relationship” before you get too deeply
into it.’ As she said “relationship” she did the quotation mark
thing with her fingers. What the hell?

‘I don’t understand.’

Ellen paused and took a deep breath. ‘What I mean
is, good relationships are built on trust, right? That means being
open and honest with each other. And let’s be frank, you are
certainly not being honest with Brad right now. You weren’t exactly
a virgin who was innocently seduced last night. You have a whole
history he knows nothing about. You can’t tell him without scaring
him off. But if you don’t tell him, then whatever relationship you
have is based on lies. Which means it’s no relationship at
all.’

She was right. It hit me like a train wreck. I was
making a fool of myself, letting Brad believe I was some innocent
young lady, when the reality was I had fucked my way through more
men than I could remember, plus a few women, too. I sat there shell
shocked. What an idiot I had been, living in a dream world, and
ignoring reality.

‘I’ve got to go out,’ I said. Ellen called after me,
but I wanted to be alone. I stormed out of the apartment, down to
the street and started walking to nowhere in particular at a
furious pace. I turned it all over in my mind, and tried to make
sense of it. But I knew deep down that Ellen was right. If I wasn’t
honest with Brad, the whole thing would be a charade. I didn’t know
what kind of relationship we had, and where we might go, but if I
wasn’t honest with him, our relationship had about as much future
as the Titanic steaming towards its iceberg.

But there was no way I could tell him the truth,
either. The idea was absurd. If I started recounting the details of
my sexual exploits, he would run for the hills. I was caught in a
trap, with no way out. Heads I lose, tails I lose. A lose/lose
situation.

I kept walking, not knowing or caring where I was
going. Eventually, I found myself on George Street - the main
street through the city - heading north. I walked a long way, past
George St. and Circular Quay and into the Rocks, one of the oldest
parts of Sydney harbour. I only stopped when I reached the water’s
edge. I felt like Forrest Gump – just keeping going until I reached
the ocean, for no particular reason whatsoever. Any logic I had in
my life had just evaporated.

I realized that option A and option B were both out.
I couldn’t carry on without saying anything to Brad about my past,
and equally there was no way that I could ever risk talking to him
about it. I realized that the only available choice was option
C…end the whole thing now and walk away. The idea hurt, it really
did, but it would be the best thing for both of us. I would be able
to get on with my life as if we had never met, as painful a concept
as that seemed. And Brad would write me off as just another silly
woman who didn’t make the grade.

Yes, that was it. I would have to end it. But
how?

***

Yes, I know. What I
should have done is pick up the phone and tell him straight. Or
better still, tell him face to face. The only thing I can say in my
defense is that at least I didn’t try to end the relationship with
a text message or an email. Even
I
don’t sink as low as
that.

The truth is, I did nothing. I put the decision off,
and then put it off some more. Procrastination is a specialty of
mine. I can put things off for weeks or even months at a time,
especially if they are things I really don’t want to do. So instead
of facing up to what needed to be done, I became an expert at
avoidance. For the next week, I did everything I could to evade the
inevitable confrontation.

Brad rang me at work, but I didn’t take the calls.
He rang my cell phone, and sent me text messages, but didn’t get a
reply. I felt like a complete shit, but I just didn’t know how to
handle the situation. I buried myself in my work, and tried to
forget what had happened between us. Fortunately, we had a lot to
do in the office, so it wasn’t hard to find things to keep my mind
occupied. We were working on a special edition, so that meant
plenty of extra work with photographers, writers, contributors and
suppliers.

For that whole week, the days flew by, but the
evenings dragged. And the nights were as lonely as hell. Ellen was
away on business, so I was completely alone in the apartment.
Several times the doorbell rang during the evening, but I ignored
it every time. I didn’t want to see anyone, or speak to anyone. My
plan was to just keep on working hard and focus on my career until
life sorted itself out again, sooner or later. My mother used to
tell me that things always work out for the best in the end. I
hoped she was right.

On Friday morning, I arrived outside the office on
the stroke of nine, clutching a Starbucks and a sticky bun. My
calorie consumption had gone up by a factor of ten in the last few
days. I had eaten all the chocolate that Ellen had hidden around
the apartment, and was now working my way through all the buns and
cakes in the coffee shops around the office. If I kept going at
this rate, I would double my weight in three months, and then I
would never have to worry about my sex life again – I wouldn’t have
one.

I hurried into the office foyer and jabbed at the
elevator buttons. The elevator took an age to arrive. When it
finally showed up, I hopped in, hit the button for my floor and
turned round to face the doors. The doors had started to close when
someone called out, ‘Wait!’

Now I bet you are the kind of bitch who wouldn’t try
to hold the elevator, aren’t you? You would make a token effort at
reaching for the ‘open doors’ button, then smile helplessly as the
doors closed anyway. OK, sorry – that’s not fair. You’re probably
not that kind of person at all. But you know what I mean, right?
Anyway, I’m not that kind of person, either – that’s the point I’m
trying to make. I reached out and poked at the buttons, and the
doors jumped outwards as if I had given them an electric shock.

A man stepped inside, and it was only as he said
‘thank you’ that I realized who it was.

Brad.

The doors closed and the elevator started to move.
Brad smiled at me. ‘Well, there’s no getting away from me this
time. I’ve been chasing you all week. You haven’t returned my calls
or my messages.’

I felt like a complete bum – and yes, I know, I
deserved it. I felt my face flushing. ‘I’m sorry…I’ve been busy.
We’ve got a lot on.’

‘Angel, we both know there is more to it than that.
So please tell me what’s going on. I just need you to be straight
with me.’ He pressed the emergency stop button, and the elevator
jarred to a sudden halt.

‘I need you to tell me the truth,’ Brad said, with a
rather pained expression on his face. ‘If you want to end this,
just tell me straight. I will walk out of this building and you
will never see me again. Just tell me what I did wrong.’

I felt a tear running down my cheek. ‘Oh, Brad…it’s
not you. It’s me. You are better off without me. There are things
about me that you don’t know, and I could never tell you. I’ve
ruined everything, and it’s all my fault, not yours.’

Brad gave me a gentle smile. ‘Please tell me…what is
it that I don’t know? I think I have the right to know why I can’t
see you again.’

I shook my head. ‘You wouldn’t want to know, you
really wouldn’t.’

‘I think I should be the judge of that, don’t
you?’

Well, OK, if he wanted the truth, maybe I should let
him have it. Then our “relationship” would unquestionably end right
here and now. He would never want to speak to me again, and I could
get on with my life. I placed my coffee and bun on the floor, then
crossed my arms defiantly. ‘You know that friend of mine…the friend
of a friend…the one who loves sex? The sex addict?

‘Yes, of course. You’ve mentioned her many
times.’

‘Well, it’s not a friend of a friend.
It’s…it’s…well, it’s me.’

There I’d said it. It was all over. All I had to do
now was put up with a few minutes of his anger and frustration,
then he would storm off in a temper and I would never see him
again. But I couldn’t stop the tears, tears that were now coming
faster than ever.’

Brad looked disappointed. ‘Oh, I thought you were
going to tell me something I didn’t know already.’

I looked up at him puzzled. ‘You knew?’

He chuckled. ‘Angel, People come into my practice
every day to talk about the problems that a “friend of a friend” is
having. If I couldn’t see through that one, I would be out of a
job. It’s the oldest line in the book.’

I was totally confused now. ‘But…after all that I
told you, you still wanted to date me…and make love to me?’

He took my hand in his. ‘One thing I have learned in
my job is that it is not who you were that counts, or even who you
are. All that matters is who you want to be in the future. We all
have embarrassing skeletons in our closets. I certainly do. That’s
not important. What matters is how we deal with those issues, and
how we choose to go on and live our lives. I know you are a
beautiful person who has perhaps mistaken intimacy for love. I want
to show you what the real thing is all about.’

I squeezed his hand hopefully. ‘You really don’t
mind? I can’t help it…I just seem to have a very high sex
drive….’

Brad pulled me closer. ‘What red-blooded male in his
right mind would turn down a beautiful woman with a high sex drive?
You might say it’s a perfect combination, if it is channeled
correctly.’

Looking at it that way, I could see he had a point.
Brad kissed me deeply, and I felt the release of all the tension
that had been building up for the last week. I just wanted to hold
him close. But Brad seemed to be after more. His hands slid down
and pulled up my skirt, and I felt him grabbing my buttocks and
slipping inside my panties. He pressed his body against mine, and I
could feel his erection growing as our bodies touched. He wanted to
make love, right there and then, in the elevator.

For once, I surprised even myself. I gently pushed
his hands away. ‘Why don’t we save this for later? I mean…there
will be a “later” won’t there?

Brad grinned and hit the “Start” button on the
elevator. As we started to rise, he stroked my cheek and said:

‘Oh yes, Angel…there will be lots of “laters” – you
can count on it.’

And he was right. There were lots more “laters.” I’m
still a shameless sexaholic, but now I confine my desires to just
one man. I’m not missing out though. Brad insists that we make love
most nights, and most mornings, too. He wants us to explore the
whole gamut of what is possible between a man and a woman.

And who am I to refuse him? After all, it’s doctor’s
orders…

### END OF STORY ###

If you enjoyed this story, then please help
other readers by leaving an honest review on
Goodreads
. I’d
appreciate it, thanks!

IMPORTANT: To read the
rest of the Candid Confessions series, grab all the enthralling
episodes
here

*** Get
More Red-Hot Romance Books –FREE! ***

To get more fantastic
romance reads from Daniella Divine AND to download lots of red-hot
romance books FREE,
click here
to
visit us on Facebook and join our mailing list.

More Ways To Discover
Red-Hot Romances from Daniella Divine:

Daniella Divine’s
Website

Daniella
Divine on Goodreads

Daniella Divine
on Twitter