S.E.C.R.E.T.: An Erotic Novel Read Online Free Page A

moon
     hovered over Chartres, and the sound of cicadas blotted out the traffic sounds. I
     looked in the mirror and tried to see myself as someone else would for the first time.
     It’s not that my body was awful. It was a good body, not too tall, not too thin. I
     had dishpan hands, but overall I was in good shape, probably from waitressing all
     day. I liked the shape of my butt, it was nicely rounded—but it’s true what they say
     about your late thirties: everything starts to soften. I held my C-cups in my hands
     and lifted them slightly. There. I imagined Scott, no, not Scott. Will, no, not him
     either. He was Tracina’s, not mine. I imagined that guy, the one from the restaurant,
     coming up behind me and putting his hands on me like this, and bending me forward
     and then … 
Stop it, Cassie
.
    I had stopped getting those stupid Brazilian waxes after Scott died. The look always
     unsettled me, like I was supposed to be a little girl or something. I let my hand
     travel down to my … what? What do you call it when you’re alone?
Vagina
always sounded by turns juvenile and clinical.
Pussy
was a guy’s term and felt too feline for me.
Cunt?
No. Too much. I moved my finger around
down there
, and found, to my surprise, that I was wet. But I couldn’t muster the energy, the
     effort, to do anything about it.
    Was I lonely? Yes, of course. But I was also slowly shutting down parts of myself,
     seemingly for good, like a largefactory going dark, sector by sector. I was only thirty-five and I had never had really
     great, mind-blowing, liberating, luscious sex, the kind that notebook seemed to allude
     to.
    There were days when I felt I was just a suit of flesh pulled over a set of bones,
     pouring in and out of buses and cabs, walking around a restaurant, feeding people
     and cleaning up after them. At home, my body was a warm place for the cat to sleep
     on. How had this happened? How had this become my life? Why couldn’t I just pick up
     the pieces and get out there, like Will had said?
    I looked in the mirror again: all that flesh, all of it available and tender, yet
     somehow locked away. I stepped into the bath and sat down, then slid all the way under
     the water, submerging my head under the suds for a few seconds. I could hear my heart
     underwater, beating out a sad echo. That, I thought, is the sound of loneliness.

    I rarely drank, let alone drank alone, but somehow that night called for a glass of
     cold white wine and a warm bathrobe. I had a box of Chablis in the fridge, albeit
     one that had been there for a couple of months, but it would have to do. I poured
     a big tumbler full. Then I settled into the corner of the futon-couch with the cat
     and the notebook. I traced the initials
PD
on the cover with my finger. Inside was a nameplate with
Pauline Davis
printed on it, but no contact information. That page was followed by a tableof contents in scripted lettering, spelling out steps, one through ten:
    Step One: Surrender
    Step Two: Courage
    Step Three: Trust
    Step Four: Generosity
    Step Five: Fearlessness
    Step Six: Confidence
    Step Seven: Curiosity
    Step Eight: Bravery
    Step Nine: Exuberance
    Step Ten: The Choice
    Oh my God, what did I have in my hands? What was this list? I felt hot and chilled
     at the same time, like I had uncovered a dangerous but delicious secret. I got up
     from the couch to draw down my lace curtains.
Fearlessness, Courage, Confidence, Exuberance?
These words had leapt out at me from the page, blurring before my eyes. Was Pauline
     taking these steps herself? And if so, where was she on the list? I sat down again
     and read the steps once more, then flipped the page to the next heading, “Fantasy
     Notes on Step One.” I couldn’t stop myself. I began to read:
    I can’t tell you how scared I was, how worried that I would chicken out, cancel, run.
     That’s what I do, right? When things get overwhelming, esp. sexually. But I thought
     of the word
Acceptance,
and I