by Selena Kitt
He runs his hands down the side of my neck, his thumbs caressing my collarbone as he groans into my mouth.
My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and I shiver slightly. My core clenches in response to his tongue tantalizing mine.
‘Shit, I’m so sorry.’ He steps away from me, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at the floor.
‘Don’t be sorry.’ I take his hand and pull him down to the sofa next to me. I want to make that pained look on his face disappear. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I guess the interview brought back memories of Mia.’
I squeeze his hand because I don’t know what to say. If there is anything I can say. How do you make something like that right?
‘I…I just don’t know anymore if I’m cut out to be a counsellor. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t—’
‘You are!’ I cut him off. ‘When I met you I was a scared, emotional wreck who was putting on a front to the rest of the world, barely existing. Now look at me. I know I’m not completely there yet. I know I’ve still got issues I need to deal with, but I’d never have even got this far without you helping me. You can do that for other women in the same situation, too, Ben. Don’t doubt yourself for a moment. Please.’
He turns to me. A range of emotions plays out over his face. Fear, pain, and something else I can’t work out.
‘I need to tell you something,’ he says in a low voice, gripping my hand tight like he can’t bear not to touch me.
‘You can tell me anything. I’ve told you all my darkest secrets, Ben.’
His gaze dances over my face, but he doesn’t speak.
‘What?’ I say, worried now that he’s going to distance himself from me.
From us.
Scared that maybe he thinks I’m just too damaged and scarred to be with after all. That he thinks this has all been a mistake.
He opens his mouth to say something. Closes it again.
He takes a deep breath. Looks down at the floor as if he’s plucking up courage.
I don’t know what I’m expecting him to say, but his next words blow me away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ben
‘I’m in love with you,’ I say. Words I’ve never told anyone. Words I never imagined telling anyone.
I don’t mean to say it. I mean to tell her everything about me. I want the secrets and lies to end here.
But I don’t. Can’t make myself say those words.
When she hears it, she won’t feel the same about the guy she thinks I am, and another piece of me will die, just like with Mia. So before she ever knows the whole truth, I want her to know I really do love her.
Need her.
Want her with all my heart.
I can tell by the way she gasps she’s not expecting that.
Fuck it! What have I done?
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ I say, wishing I could take it back.
The last thing she needs is me putting this on her. She needs a friend. That’s all.
She reaches for my hand. ‘Ben…’
‘It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.’ I take her hand and rest it on my cheek, placing mine over the top to get more contact with her skin.
‘I…’ She bites down on her lower lip, and I just want to kiss her again. ‘Ben, I feel so much for you. You’ve been nothing but kind and caring since I met you. You’ve helped me start to get past what happened, and…’ She inhales a deep breath, giving me a sad smile. ‘It was never like this with Theo. He never made me feel what you do. No one has. That first time I kissed you, it was like the first time anyone had kissed me, because that’s what a kiss should feel like. But I’m scared of this.’
‘Everyone’s scared. It is scary letting down the barriers, putting yourself out there, making yourself vulnerable.’
I should know, after all.
‘No, I’m scared that I can’t be normal.’ She glances away, embarrassed.
‘You mean sex?’
‘I’m scared I won’t want to have sex again. Or I can’t have it. Or I’ll freak out in the middle of it. Part of me really wants to, with you, but part of me is just terrified of it.’
I turn my cheek and kiss her hand. ‘I told you, I’m not going anywhere. We can work through this. I’ll never do something you don’t want me to. Have I ever given you a reason to think I’ll be violent towards you or hurt you?’
‘No. In fact, it’s strange, but you make me feel safe and protected. Adored, even, and I’ve never had that.’
‘So, we’ll take it slow. When the time’s right, you’ll be in total control.’ I take her hand from my cheek and place it on my thigh, rubbing small circles in her palm gently. ‘And there are things you can try that will help with—’ I smell something burning and sniff. ‘Have you got something in the oven?’
‘The spaghetti sauce!’ she shrieks, leaping off the sofa.
I follow her into the kitchen as she yanks the pan off the hob. The sauce is congealed into a burnt lump at the bottom.
‘I wanted my first meal for you to be really special.’ She glares at the mess, looking so cute as she pouts at the ruined dinner. I take the pan out of her hands and put it back on the hob, then wrap my arms around her. She rests her head on my chest, and I slide my fingers through her silky hair.
‘Every moment I spend with you is special. Don’t think we have to rush this. When you’re ready to take things to the next level, so am I, but I’m not going to push you into anything.’
‘What did I do to deserve you coming into my life?’ she whispers.
‘Ditto, Grace.’
‘Are you still hungry?’ she asks.
‘Actually, I’m starving.’
‘Take away?’
‘Absolutely. What do you fancy?’
‘I haven’t had Chinese in a long time,’ she says wistfully. ‘I don’t like strange people delivering food to my flat, so I don’t get them anymore.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you. Chinese it is, then.’
After we’ve eaten and tidied up, we sit together on her sofa listening to Passenger, my arm wrapped around her shoulder, her head nestling under the crook of my arm.
‘So, before we were rudely interrupted by the burning dinner, you said there were some things I can do that will help with…’ she trails off, fidgeting with her hands. ‘You know.’
‘Sex?’ I glance down at her.
‘Yeah.’ She looks away, embarrassed.
‘It’s not a dirty word, Grace. You can say it.’
‘What?’
‘The S-word you’re having trouble saying.’
She’s silent for a while. ‘Why?’
‘Because talking about it helps with the fear, especially if you make it funny.’ I put on a bad French accent and say, ‘Oui, oui. You know ze French are always having sex.’ It sounds pretty much like Inspector Clouseau and makes her laugh, so I do my best Italian accent. ‘Bellisimo, I am an Italian stallion and I theenk you should say sex.’ Then I try South African, but it just comes out sounding like Indian, which has her in fits of laughter. ‘See, how can it be bad if it’s funny? And everyone does it.’
She laughs. ‘Well, not everyone, I suppose. I mean, nuns don’t do it.’
‘How do you know? Who knows what they get up to in their secret nun world?’
‘Good point, although I’ve got a horrible picture in my head now.’
‘But the thing is, sex shouldn’t be about something painful or dirty. Sex between consenting adults should be intimate and caring. Sexual desire is healthy, normal.’
‘Unless you’re into S&M, and then it probably is painful and dirty.’
I shake my head at her with feigned annoyance. ‘You’re determined not to let me finish, aren’t you?’
‘OK, I’ll stop interrupting you now.’
‘I know it’s hard to think about sex normally now, but there are some therapeutic things you can do
to change how you feel about it.’
‘What? Because I want to. I really do. At the moment sex and fear and hurt go hand in hand.’
‘One thing is to make a list. Write down how you see sex now, and how you want to see it. Then reject the bad things, like sex is dirty, and concentrate on the good things.’
She strokes my hand as I speak. All this talk about sex is making me want her so badly, but I have to try to control myself. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her, and it’s practically killing me.
‘You need to feel sexy for yourself instead of ashamed for being a beautiful woman,’ I say. ‘Explore what makes you feel sexy for you. Whether it’s wearing perfume, having your hair done, wearing nice clothes, sexy underwear, whatever. Just do it for you first so you can empower yourself as a sexy woman. Rebel against any negative ideas you’ve formed about sex.’
She tenses.
I kiss the top of her head. ‘Is it still making you uncomfortable, talking about it?’
‘No, it’s just…embarrassing.’
‘That’s the thing. It shouldn’t be embarrassing. It’s the most natural thing in the world, when it doesn’t involve force. You need to think of it the way sex between two people should be.’
Talking about this with her makes me want to see her naked, with my hands and mouth exploring every inch of her. I try to push the thoughts away. I’m going to be in serious trouble soon.
‘OK, is there anything else I can do?’ she asks.
‘You can masturbate.’
She groans and slaps a hand over her face. ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re talking about this.’
‘If we don’t talk about how you feel, you can’t get past it. We have to be honest with each other,’ I say.
Yeah, I said I was a hypocrite, didn’t I?
‘I know,’ she whispers.
‘You don’t need to be embarrassed about masturbating. It’s a healthy way to find out what you like, so you can tell a guy how to please you in the same way.’ And it’s exactly what I’m going to be doing when I get home, thinking of her, with her fresh vanilla scent still on me. It feels a bit perverted, but if I listen to my own advice, I know it’s natural. I’m in love with this woman. What’s wrong with it?
‘Sex shouldn’t be about pain or violence,’ I say. ‘It should be beautiful.’
‘OK, I’ll try what you’ve suggested.’
I tilt her chin to mine and brush my lips across hers, then I wrench my mouth away and pull her to her feet.
‘Are you going?’ she frowns, confused.
I grin. ‘All this talk about sex is making me want to do things to you you’re not ready for.’
Her mouth forms into an O, and her cheeks flood with colour.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Grace
I was speechless when he told me he loved me. I literally couldn’t draw in any air for a few seconds. It was the last thing I was expecting, and it made my heart swell with happiness. I wanted to tell Ben that I love him, too, because I do. I love so many things about him, and I want to scream it out loud.
This time it’s not some infatuation or some impostor of love. It’s not me craving to be loved so badly that I mistake need for the real thing. With Ben, it just feels…right. I’m a woman who’s in love for the first time, but I can’t tell him I feel the same until I can be a complete woman and have sex with him. It’s not fair to Ben. What if I can’t give him everything he wants?
After he leaves, I take a shower and think about what he’s said tonight. I want to get past this.
For Ben.
For me.
For us.
Mum wasn’t around to ask advice from, and Imogen was never interested in trying to tell me about the facts of life. So everything I learnt about sex, I learnt from Theo, and it obviously wasn’t very pretty. I didn’t really enjoy sex with Theo, even before it happened. He was selfish in bed, not caring if I was happy. So, although I’ve had sex, it was never mind-blowing. I haven’t even had an orgasm with a man, but I know I can. I’ve done it to myself before.
But not since the rape. Since then, even the thought of touching myself intimately has seemed wrong.
What was it Ben said about creating new memories that didn’t harm me anymore? That’s what I want to do. Erase the bad ones and make new ones.
With him.
Even kissing Ben gives me more explosive sensations than I ever had with Theo. When Ben touches me, it’s as if I almost forget my name. When he kisses me, he’s making sweet love to my mouth. My body responds in ways it never has before, igniting something I never knew was possible, and I want more of him. So now, I need to prove to myself that I am a real woman. That I am normal. That I can erase the pain with pleasure.
An idea forms in my head. There maybe a way to help me get rid of my fears about intimacy and let go of those bad memories associated with sex, (yes, I can say it, hurrah!). I slide into bed naked, and before I can change my mind, I dial his phone number. Turning my mobile to speakerphone, I listen to it ringing.
He answers on the fourth ring. ‘Hey, are you OK?’ Worry laces his voice.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Good, I thought you might’ve been having another panic attack.’
‘I have an idea,’ I blurt out, because if I don’t say it now, I’ll lose my nerve.
‘What sort of idea.’
‘What you mentioned earlier…’
‘Yes?’
‘I want to feel like you’re with me when I masturbate.’
He takes in a sharp breath.
‘Does that sound crazy?’ I suddenly question what I’m doing. ‘It’s just that I want it to seem like you’re here, but I’ll be more in control because you’re not. We can be intimate without really being intimate, and I think it’ll take the pressure off me a bit.’
‘No. That doesn’t sound crazy. I think it’s healthy that you want to take control so you can feel comfortable.’
I smile, even though he can’t see me.
‘It also sounds incredibly sexy,’ he says, his voice low and husky. ‘What are you doing right now?’
I slide my hands down my neck, tracing the curve of my breasts, down my stomach. Back to my straining breasts begging to be touched. ‘I’m stroking my nipples.’
‘How do they feel?’
‘Hard.’
He groans. ‘God, that’s exactly what I am for you right now.’
‘Are you thinking about me?’ I ask brazenly, the distance between us making me bolder, despite the intimacy of the moment.
‘Always,’ he says breathlessly.
My eyes close as I play with the puckered buds. In my head, I see Ben’s face, his dark gaze sweeping over me.
‘What else do you like, Grace?’
‘I want my nipples licked and teased.’
‘Do it.’
His gruff voice is a huge turn-on, melting away any embarrassment or shame about what we’re doing and turning it into something so erotic and exciting, I can’t help myself from doing what he says.
I sit up, lift my breast to my mouth with one hand, and suck my nipple, swirling my tongue around its tip. I moan for more, imagining it’s Ben’s mouth on me.
‘God, listening to you is so hot,’ he groans.
It’s hot for me, too. Hearing his voice turns me on even more, and my core throbs, hot and wet. The arousal is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. All of my senses are on high alert.
Slowly one hand drifts downwards, and I gasp at the first touch.
‘What are you doing now?’ he asks.
‘Stroking myself.’
‘Where?’
‘Between my legs.’
‘Oh, God, you’re doing me in. You’re so sexy, Grace. So gorgeous’
I slide my finger up and down, feather-light strokes in the silky wetness, as my other hand rolls my pebbled nipple between my fingers.
‘Imagine it’s me, Grace. That’s my finger on you, slidin
g along your smooth folds, teasing your sweet spot. It’s my tongue on your breast, licking and sucking you into my mouth.’
All I can manage is a groan of pure pleasure as I think about him doing this to me.
‘I want to hear you come,’ he says, and I know he’s touching himself as he thinks about me. I can hear it in his breathlessness.
He coaxes me to pleasure myself, his words like a caress on my skin, the gentlest touch of a light summer breeze. I’m so lost in his voice and his sighs and moans mingling with mine, matching them, that it’s as if he’s really here with me, doing this to me. I’ve never felt so open and exposed, even though he can’t actually see me, but I can’t stop myself from falling into him. My physical reaction to his words is something I’ve never experienced before. They’re just words, echoing through the phone lines, but they brush against me, sweep through me, and the arousal it creates is breathtaking.
The whole universe seems to get smaller as my whimpers get louder. All that exists is just Ben and me and layers of intensity building inside, repairing the hollow cavern left in my heart and my body for so long.
The climax wells up inside me, climbing to blissfully wonderful heights before I come undone. Lights flash before my eyes as my orgasm quakes through me, and the shattering sensations washing over me shock me.
‘Oh my God,’ I say breathlessly down the phone, my whole body quivering and weak.
A few seconds later, he calls my name, and his orgasm hits. ‘Wow,’ he pants, and it’s so loud it’s as if he’s breathing it in my ear.
‘Wow indeed,’ I say, letting out a nervous laugh.
‘You sound so sexy when you climax.’
Maybe I should be embarrassed, self-conscious, but I’m not, and I know the reason why. Because it’s Ben gently leading me on that first step.
When we hang up the phone, the force of the experience hits me, and I want to record every thought and feeling in my journal. It sounds clinical, but this is a huge breakthrough for me. I’m one step closer to finding the real Grace. Not just being the Grace left with a gaping hole inside her spirit.
