The Cabin (The Cabin Novellas (Book One)) (3 page)

Pulling me alongside him on the sofa, Nathan wrapped one of his strong arms around my shoulder. With his free hand, he slowly started to finger my long blond hair. He coiled a length of it around his fingers like they were a set of curling tongs. Feeling relaxed and slightly heady from the wine, I rested my cheek against his shoulder. Diverting his attention from the TV, Nathan pulled me closer, sinking further down into the wide, soft cushions. Turning his head, he gently brushed my cheek with his lips. Softly, he sucked my earlobe into his mouth and I closed my eyes. Nathan buried his head against my neck and started to cover the soft flesh there with kisses as we settled down to some
outer-course
. I never really knew if he wasn’t teasing me just a little when he called our kissing and cuddling that.

Nathan took one of my hands in his. I closed my eyes, settling back onto the sofa as he kissed my neck and face. Then, without any warning at all, he pressed the palm of my hand firmly into his lap. There was a hard lump there and I snatched my hand away. Snapping open my eyes, I looked at him. I knew what he had made me touch. I had felt him hard and stiff once or twice before. During our
outer-course
, he had rubbed himself against my thigh and I’d felt his penis, long, hard and stiff beneath the fabric of his trousers. There was little temptation for me to set it free, hold it in my hands, or do anything else with it. To do so would lead to more, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, yanking my hand away from his groin.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan whispered, a look of disappointment in his eyes.

It hurt me to see him like that, but I just couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I thought we agreed...” I started, sitting upright again and straightening my clothes.

“It wasn’t as if I was going to have sex with you,” he said, sounding ashamed. “I just wanted you to touch me. Is that so bad?”

No, it wouldn’t have felt so bad to a normal person, but I wasn’t a normal person. Or at least I didn’t feel like one. I hadn’t felt normal for some time now. Not since I had been punished for what I had done. I felt afraid now. I wasn’t scared of touching his penis – nor putting it in my mouth or inside me – I was scared of what it would lead to. What he might see and then what I would have to explain. That’s what I was scared of. He would ask questions and I couldn’t tell him the answers.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, reaching for him. I didn’t want to lose Nathan, I loved him. I was tired of being alone. I had been alone too long and I needed someone who felt like me – someone who wanted to get close – but not too close for comfort. I was hoping that, like me
, he would be happy with little intimacy in his life – enjoying my company and friendship.

So, reverting back to my trusty excuse – my way of escaping from these situations – I added, “You know I can’t have sex before marriage. You know that’s what I believe in.”

Nathan climbed from the sofa and knelt before me on the floor. Looking at me, he whispered, “Then marry me, Mia.”

With my heart starting to race, I looked down at him and said, “Are you being serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he said, taking my hands in his again. “I love you, Mia, and I want to be with you. I want to share my life with you. I want to share everything with you.”

To say ‘no’ would have driven Nathan from my life. I knew however patient he was, there was a limit even to his good nature. But if I said ‘yes’, then that day would come when the excuses would have to stop. The day would come when I would have to overcome my anxieties and
fears and give myself fully to him. But that day could be a year away or more. Weddings took a long time to plan. There was no way my mother and father would accept a quick registry wedding. They would want the whole nine yards. The church, the white dress, bridesmaids, and everything that came with it. The bigger the better, I thought. The longer it would take to plan and organize. And who knew what would happen in that time. I might overcome my fears. I could feel completely different in twelve months’ time or more.

So fearing that if I said ‘no’, Nathan would leave me, I looked at him and said, “I would love to marry you.”

So that’s how I came to be sitting on the edge of the bed in my wedding dress, as Nathan came across the honeymoon suite towards me. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I’d agreed to marry him. Even as I stood at the altar and happily said, “I do,” this very moment had still seemed an eternity away.

But those hours had slipped by, there were no more minutes or seconds left. Time had run out for me.

Nathan sat on the bed beside me. My heart was racing so fast in my chest, I was sure he must be able to hear it. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as he leant close and kissed me softly on the cheek.

“I love you, Mia,” he whispered in my ear.

My skin tingled, not with pleasure, but fear. My stomach felt crunched up, as if gripped by an invisible fist. I could feel myself stiffening. I looked across the room at the closed door. Using every last shred of willpower, I fought the urge to jump up from the bed, race across the room, fling the door wide, and make my escape.

Nathan kissed me again, but this time he gently placed his hand on my knee. I could feel his fingers squeeze my flesh through the wedding dress. With his other hand, he took hold of my chin, and slowly steered my face towards his.

“I love you,” he said again.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, heart racing in my ears. 

Nathan placed his lips over mine and kissed me. Nervously, I kissed him back, closing my eyes tight like a kid taking a spoonful of foul-tasting medicine. And yet Nathan’s lips didn’t taste foul. They tasted of the red wine and champagne he had drunk at the reception party. His skin smelt good, too, of aftershave and a musky, excitable sweat. It would have been easy for me to kiss him back with vigor, to let him pull me down onto the bed and make love to me. Part of me wanted that. To give myself fully to this man who had been so caring, patient, and understanding. Nathan, who had waited so long to make love to me – the woman he loved. Easing my lips apart with the tip of his tongue, Nathan began to explore the inside of my mouth with his. As he kissed me, he slowly lifted the hem of my white flowing dress and ran the tips of his fingers over the white lace of my stockings.

I could sense his growing excitement as he gently placed his free hand on the nape of my neck and pulled me closer towards him. I kissed him back, feeling for the first time my own sense of growing desire in the pit of my stomach. It was a feeling which began to slowly untangle the knots of anxiety within me. It wasn’t as strong as the feelings I had felt once before for the other man who I had once trusted and loved, but there were feelings. However weak, I could feel them there. Maybe this was the start of my journey towards telling Nathan the truth. But how could I tell him now, on our wedding night? Hadn’t I left it too late? Hadn’t Nathan deserved knowing the truth before – before either of us had said ‘I do’ and made such a sacred union? Wouldn’t he see me as a liar? Would he ever trust me again? If he knew the truth, wouldn’t he lose all respect for me? Just like I’d lost all respect for myself. If it wasn’t for the scars, then I could have kept the past my secret. But that’s why
they
had marked me – so whoever I loved next would know what I had done. 

Placing one hand on my shoulder, Nathan eased me down onto the bed. Again I could feel him hard against my thigh. Once on my back,
Nathan moved his hand further up beneath my wedding dress. I felt his fingers twitch as they moved nervously over the top of my stocking and touched the soft smooth skin which was just inches away from what he really wanted.

“It feels like I’ve waited a lifetime to be like this with you, Mia,” he whispered, his fingers moving slowly up the inside of my thigh.

I felt his fingertips brush over the soft silk of my panties. I shuddered and tensed up. He sensed it.

“Are you okay?” he breathed.

I nodded, without opening my eyes.

“I’m nervous
, too,” he confessed, trying to make me feel better. “Just like you, Mia, it’s my first time, and I’m so glad it’s with you.”

Why did he have to say that? I screamed inside. How could I ever tell him now? But I had to or the guilt would kill me. He didn’t deserve this and he didn’t deserve me. Not only did I have to come clean that I wasn’t a virgin like him, I had to explain those scars. How could I even begin to explain on our wedding night? How could I tell him I didn’t love him as he loved me –
that I was looking for just companionship to mask the loneliness I had felt for so long? I would happily spend my life with Nathan enjoying
outer-course
and friendship if it meant I could keep my scars hidden.

With the ball of his thumb, Nathan hooked aside my panties and gently ran his forefinger over my clit.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry Nathan, but I can’t.”

“What’s wrong?” Nathan breathed, sliding his fingers out from beneath my panties and skirt. He looked down at me lying on my back, his face a mask of confusion and concern.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, my lower lip beginning to tremble as I fought back the tears. I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed again. Nathan moved beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I eased away. I didn’t deserve his comfort and concern.

“I can’t...” I started to sob.

“It’s okay,” he said, reaching out and brushing a lock of hair from the side of my face. “I understand your nervousness. Maybe if we took it slower...”

“How much slower?”
I said through my tears. “We’ve been at a standstill for the last two years and it’s all been my fault.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” he hushed. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

But it was my fault, he just didn’t know it.

“How about we relax for a while,” he suggested. “I understand you must feel under pressure. Why don’t I order another bottle of champagne to the room? We could get undressed...take a bath together...”

His suggestion of a bath together made my stomach tighten again. If I got undressed, he would see the scars. He would see how they crisscrossed over the small of my back. Nathan would want to know how I had gotten them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, he was my husband now and had a right to know. But that would mean me telling him the truth. I couldn’t tell him – not now – not on our wedding night. He would surely leave me – and what would I say to my parents, to my friends, to the other guests? 

“I’ve had enough champagne,” I told him, wiping the tears from my eyes. “It’s not alcohol I need.”

“What then?” Nathan asked, and I detected a sense of frustration in his voice for the first time.

Knowing that we had booked a secluded cabin in the Cumbrian Mountains for the next week, I looked at him and said, “We leave for the cabin tomorrow...”

“But it’s our wedding night,” he said, trying to mask his frustration.

I knew that if I could get him alone, miles from anywhere, he would be unable to escape when I told him the truth. He wouldn’t be able to run out on me like I feared he would. I didn’t want to lose Nathan, but I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t tell him here.

“Can’t we wait until tomorrow? It’s just one more night,” I pleaded, taking his hands in mine.

“But why?” he said, sounding confused more than angry.

“I just can’t relax in this hotel,” I said, my mind scrambling for yet another excuse – trying to buy myself more time. “Our parents are in rooms just down the corridor. Our friends and relatives are all here. I just can’t relax. It’s like they will know what we are doing.”

Nathan looked at me.

“Please just try and understand,” I whispered, looking into his grey eyes. But would he ever understand when he found out the truth? What would he say when I explained I’d been lying to him all along? What would he say when I revealed the scars? They told the story of the man I’d been in love with, the man who had excited me, who I had longed to touch, who I couldn’t wait to make love to, who had made me cum and made me feel like I needed another orgasm more than I needed air. What would Nathan say when he discovered I wore the scars of that love on my back like a tattoo? A tattoo which told the story of what I had done.

“Okay, then,” Nathan said, pulling me from my thoughts of guilt and shame. “Let’s wait until we’re on our honeymoon. You’re right, once we reach that remote little cabin tomorrow evening we’ll be miles away from civilization. We’ll be on our own at last. The pressure will be off the both of us.”

Taking one of his hands and pressing it gently against my cheek, I whispered, “Thank you, Nathan. I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“Because I love you,” he whispered back.

Nathan lay beside me. I could hear him breathing softly. I hadn’t been able to sleep, kept awake by guilt and thoughts not of my husband, but the other. I wondered if Quinn ever had difficulty sleeping? If he didn’t, was I in his dreams? He was in my thoughts whether I was asleep or awake. I saw his face every time I caught a glance of those scars in the mirror, toweling myself dry after stepping from the shower. I rolled over onto my side, my back to my husband. He stirred a little, then fell still again. This was the first time we had shared a bed together – this was our wedding night – and it wasn’t meant to have been like this. Shouldn’t we be making love now? Shouldn’t we be exploring each other’s bodies, getting to know what each other liked? Wasn’t I meant to be guiding his furtive hands over my body, showing him where I liked to be touched – the areas of my body that, if caressed just right, he would make me come? But I couldn’t show him – not like how I’d shown Quinn. I closed my eyes, remembering how I had guided Quinn’s finger over my clit. I could remember how that had made me feel – the sense of nervous excitement it had stirred deep inside of me, stretching out through my fingers and toes – making them tingle.