I smiled over at her. “You know what, Shay?”
“What?”
“I think you and I are going to be really good friends.”
She smiled, hitting my shoulder with hers. “Dick description. Now.”
I took my time getting ready, making a sort of ritual out of it. To take up time. To soothe my nerves. I took my usual long shower, carefully dried my hair, then pressed it with the straightening iron Shay had left behind. I applied my vanilla lotion to every inch of my body. I put on a small amount of makeup. Brushed my teeth. Then finally, close to my time to leave, I slipped into the lacy white panties and the white dress. Simple. Tight. Short. But perfect.
I decided Shay was going to pick out all my clothes in the future.
I put on white patent leather ballet flats, grabbed my keys and wallet, and walked out of the bathroom, with the biggest knot of tension in my stomach.
“Shit. That'll do it,” Jake nodded.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Whatever you are planning to do,” he said, shrugging.
I nodded, taking a steadying breath. “I'll be late tonight.”
“I bet you will,” he smirked. Then the smile fell and he walked up to me, touching my shoulder briefly. “Everything is gonna be alright, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed numbly.
“Go on,” he said, nudging me toward the door. “You're gonna be late.”
I was right on time. I practically ran from my car to the office door because Shay had threatened to flay me if I showed up covering the dress with a jacket. I stopped outside the door, oblivious to the cold seeping into my skin, taking a few deep breaths, settling my hair back into place, tugging the bodice of the dress up slightly. Then I reached for the knob and went in.
Chase was at his usual place beside the desk, in a black suit and white shirt. His head drifted upward slightly as he tucked a piece of folded paper into his pocket.
“Oh, baby,” he said, his head tilting to the side, watching me.
The heat in his eyes was enough to have the knot inside slowly unraveling. But he just stood there, looking at me, taking me in. And I started to feel squirmy under his gaze.
“I, ah, believe I was promised something that involved being... um... pushed against a wall,” I said, feeling like a bumbling child.
A slow, devilish smile spread across his face. “That you were,” he agreed, closing the space between us. His hand went to the back of my neck, pulling me to him, and his lips pressed hard on mine. Then my back was slamming against the wall, but all I felt was him. His tongue slipped into my mouth at the same time his hand pushed between my thighs, finding my clit through my panties and making me groan into his mouth.
“So wet,” he murmured against my lips.
“Chase...”
But I didn't get to finish my thought because his hands grabbed a hold of my panties and ripped them off of me. Just like he promised. And then he was down on his knees, looking up at me with hungry eyes, his hands inching my skirt up my legs until it clung around my belly.
“Tell me it's for me.”
“Always. It's always for you,” I agreed.
And I had the sinking feeling that it always would be.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, grabbing my leg and bringing it up over his shoulder. Then his tongue was stroking up my cleft, finding my clit and lavishing over it.
My hands went down on the back of his head, holding him against me.
It wasn't long until I felt my orgasm threatening to break, digging my hands into his hair and grounding out his name.
But just when I was sure I was going to come, he pulled quickly away, kissing the triangle above my sex and sitting back on his heels.
“Chase...”
“Don't worry, babe, I am going to make you come tonight. Just not yet. First,” he said, getting up on his feet and taking my hand, “we need to go in the other room.”
So, he made drinks. I searched through music. What music did I want to have sex to? I felt my stomach clench at the idea and tried to think past it. What music did I want Chase to hold me to? That worked better. I settled on a play list of bluesy music and turned to take my martini.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the seating area. I followed behind, curious, finishing my drink quickly and placing it on the end table before sitting down next to him. “I figured maybe tonight we should do some talking first.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, sounding as hesitant as I felt.
“First of all,” he said, setting his drink down on the floor and reaching into his pocket for the paper I had seen him stuff there when I walked in. He unfolded it and handed it to me. “I should have given it to you a while ago, but I kept forgetting.”
I took the paper, looking down at it, finding his name under the title “patient name” and then there was a read out of tests. It was a results of an STD test. All, of course, negative.
“I wanted you to feel completely comfortable with me. We will be using condoms, of course,” he added quickly, “but this was just for your peace of mind.”
“Okay,” I said, folding it back up and putting it on the seat behind me. “Thanks,” I said, looking down at the hands in my lap
“I know you're nervous.”
Nervous didn't even begin to cover it. This was the big deal. This is what I had decided to pay so much money to fix about myself. This was my biggest insecurity.
“Talk to me, babe.”
“I don't know what to say.”
“Say anything. Say that you're nervous. Say why. Just talk.”
“I'm nervous,” I admitted.
“Okay,” he said, his hand landing on my thigh, just resting there, an anchor.
“This is the thing I am most insecure about.”
“What makes you so insecure? That you can't enjoy it? That you're worried about being a disappointment.”
“Both.”
He nodded, reaching for my hands and putting his on top of them. “Ava, nothing you could ever do would disappoint me,” he said, so much sincerity in his tone that I actually believed him. “And I promise you that, no matter what happens, I will show you that you can enjoy it. No matter how long it takes.” He paused, squeezing my hands. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Look at me,” he said, then waited. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now come here,” he said, patting his chest.
I didn't need any more encouragement than that.
Once I was settled and his arms encircled me, he took a breath. “So, let's talk about sex.”
Fuck.
“Okay.”
“In the past, have you ever had an orgasm during intercourse?”
“No.”
“Ever been close?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me what sex has been like for you in the past?”
Fuck me.
“Terrible,” I supplied easily. “As soon as clothes start coming off, the anxiety builds.”
“And when someone has their hands on you, how does that feel?”
“Like I want to scrape off my skin.”
“Do you know why?”
“No. I mean, yes and no. I think the anxiety just makes me so uncomfortable and then angry because I can't control it, that the touching feels wrong. Like it hurts instead of feels good.”
I felt his cheek come down on the top of my head. “And what about when they are inside of you?”
I closed my eyes tight, not wanting to think about it. “I feel nothing.”
“Nothing?” he asked. “Not even the skin crawling sensation?”
“I mean, the first time...” I started.
“When you lost your virginity,” he supplied.
“Yeah.”
“That hurt,” he guessed.
More than anything I had ever felt.
“Y
es. A lot. I got sick.”
“Okay,” he said, squeezing me tighter. “And since then... just numbness.”
“Pretty much. Sometimes I can quiet the anxiety enough to feel, but just for like a couple seconds because it doesn't...” I shook my head.
“Because you were stressed out so you weren't turned on,” he guessed, “and it felt rough and uncomfortable. And then the anxiety came back, stronger.”
“Yes.”
“Alright,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Thank you for sharing that. That is helpful.” He rubbed my back for a few seconds. “I'm sorry it's always been like that for you.”
So was I.
“It's okay.”
“No, it's not,” he said, shaking his head. “Baby,” he said, pulling me away and looking down at me, “it's not okay. That should never have happened. Those guys...” he said, grimacing, “they should have seen that you were struggling and they should have stopped and tried to help you through it.”
“Not all guys are like you, Chase,” I said, shrugging.
“No, but they should fucking try to be,” he said, sounding angry. He took a breath, putting his hand to the side of my face. “Look, at any point tonight you feel anxious, you tell me. This isn't like the past when I told you that you should push through it and only push me away when you couldn't take it anymore. This is different. If you get above a four on that scale, you tell me. And if you don't feel like you can say it, all you have to do is say the word 'red' and I'll stop. And I'll try to talk you down. If that doesn't work, we can be done for the night. I will not be upset. I will not be disappointed. Understand?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. What is the safe word?”
“Red.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Come here,” he said, pulling my face to his and kissing me until I felt it down to the base of my spine. Until it was all there was. Until I had moved to straddle him, to get closer, my hands on both sides of his face, my teeth biting into his lips.
His arms went tight around me and he slowly got to his feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, holding on as he led us toward the bed. Chase turned, sitting down on the edge of the bed with me on top of him, simply kissing me back for a long time before his hands went to the hem of my skirt and pulled it upward. Over my ass, up my stomach, bunching up by my breasts, waiting.
I slid backward, watching his eyes, then put my arms up over my head. Material gone, he looked down at me, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. “Perfect,” he said, his hands moving up to cover my breasts. He leaned forward, planting a kiss between then. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me,” he said quietly, making the insides of my belly feel wobbly.
My hand moved to the back of his head, slipping into his hair. “Thank you for being so patient.” I slid further down his legs, giving me access to his chest. I slid off his jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt, running my hands over the skin underneath.
Because, in that moment, he was mine.
Maybe only for the night.
Maybe only in my mind.
But he was mine.
And I wanted to memorize every inch of him.
He lifted me, placing me down on the bed and standing next to it, removing his shoes, his belt, his pants, then finally... his boxer briefs.
At the sight of his hard cock, I felt the tension coil slightly. Nerves. Not quite panic, but hinting at it.
Then he moved in beside me, slipping under the covers, pulling me onto my side, then running his hands over me. Lightly. Just barely touching. And it felt like every one of my nerve endings was reaching out for him, trying to grab him, hold him closer.
He pressed me back onto my back, leaning over me and kissing down my neck, over my breasts, taking the nipples gently in his mouth and sucking, then continuing down over my ribs, my stomach, down each of my thighs. Until I was writhing. Until my hands were grabbing at him, trying to pull him back up to me.
He smiled, turning away into the bedside table and coming back with a condom foil, opening it and pulling it on. “This doesn't mean anything,” he said, kissing my lips softly. “You can take as long as you need.”
But I didn't need a long time.
I didn't even need a minute.
I needed him. All of him.
I reached for his shoulders, pulling him until he followed and came over me, holding himself up my his forearms. My hands drifted down his back, over his muscles. Then my thighs parted, letting his body slide between. I felt my sex clench hard at the contact. Anticipating. Wanting it so badly.
Chase shifted his hips and his cock pressed against me, hard, just stroking up my cleft in the most excruciatingly slow pace possible.
My hands settled on the backs of his shoulders, my hips grinding against his. “Chase...” I murmured, his name full of all the need.
“You're sure?” he asked, eyes heavy, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
I had never been more sure of anything in my life.
“Yes.”
He leaned forward, kissing me until my lips felt fuzzy. Then I felt his cock press hard against the entrance, feeling my body tense slightly. His eyes watched me as he slowly pressed forward. And he was so big. And it had been so long. There was pain, a pinching, a burning that I winced against as his head pressed in.
“You okay?”
I nodded, my legs widening, trying to relieve the ache a bit as he kept pressing forward, one thick inch at a time, so slow that I could feel my body making room for him. His cock hit deep and my head jerked off the pillow and hit his arm. “Ow.”
“Okay,” he said, stilling inside me. “Baby,” he called. “Look at me.” I took a breath, lying my head back down and looked up at him. “I'm inside you.” I knew. Oh, I knew. The pain was receding, leaving only the tension. The desire. “What's the number?”
“Three.”
“I can work with three,” he said, leaning down and taking my lips.
My legs moved upward, my feet flat on the mattress as my hips started rising up, trying to stoke the desire, trying to get what I needed.
Chase chuckled against my lips, pulling back, sliding slightly back and pressing forward, making me whimper. “So fucking tight,” he groaned, shaking his head.
“So... big,” I corrected, smiling.
He smiled back, shifting inside of me slightly. “You ready?”
Hell yeah I was.
“Yes.”
He exhaled slowly, then slid half way out of me, then fully back in.
And if that was what sex was supposed to be, Shay was right, I was as virgin as the fresh fallen snow.
Because this was other wordly. This was the closest to heaven I had ever been.
“You're so beautiful,” Chase said, leaning down toward my ear, his breath ragged as he kept his intoxicating slow pace.
My legs went up, wrapping around his back, pulling him closer. My hips rose up to meet each thrust, arching into it, taking him as deep as possible.
“Oh my god. Oh my god,” I whimpered, my hands grabbing into his back, digging in.
“That's it, baby,” he said, pulling upward to look down at me. “Come for me. I want to feel your pussy grab me.”
I drove up to meet him and just... splintered apart.
“Chase!” I cried out pulling upward and burying in his neck as my muscles pulsated hard around him, the sensation of him filling me making the orgasm feel stronger than I had known before.
“Fuck, beautiful,” he growled, pushing into me again, his body jerking. “Ava... fuck me....”
His body came down on mine hard, and I wrapped myself completely around him, my body jerking through the aftershocks.
“Baby, let me look at you,” he said, trying to pull against my hold. I shook my head, pulling him tighter. “I'll hold you, okay? Just let me look at you.” My arms slackened slightly and he pulled up. “Are you okay?” I shook my
head. “No?”
My eyes opened slowly. “Okay isn't even close to how you make me feel,” I said, because it was true.
“Oh, babe,” he said, shaking his head, rolling to his side and bringing me with him. His hand went to the side of my face again. “I'm so glad you feel that way.”
Not 'I feel the same way too'.
No.
He was glad I felt that way.
Because, for him, it wasn't personal.
I was a patient. A client. Nothing more.
“What's the matter?” he asked, watching my face with drawn-in brows.
“Nothing,” I lied. Outright lied.
Because everything was wrong.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, moving away from him, sliding toward the other side of the bed, dragging the sheet with me, staying wrapped up. Hidden.
I closed the door, sinking almost immediately down the wall, wrapping my arms around my legs. What the hell did I get myself into? What made me think I would be prepared to take something like this situation on? I was so out of my depths. There was no way I could have gone into that arrangement and not developed confused feelings. I didn't have enough experience with the opposite sex, with intimacy, to not confuse sex for something deeper.
I buried my face in my hands, feeling the tears coming, hot and unstoppable. They just needed to get out. I needed to purge the misery.
I looked up.
But not there.
Not in his bathroom. In his office.
I got up, dropping the sheet, and went to the shower, flicking it on and climbing in. If the water was hot enough, it might be able to melt away a few layers of the feelings before I had to face Chase again. Before I needed to put on a brave face and act unaffected.
I could do it.
But then the shower curtain moved and Chase was stepping in with me.
“You should have told me you were taking a shower,” he said, coming in behind me. “I would have joined earlier.”
The anxiety rose, settling heavily toward anger and I felt myself straightening. I stayed under the spray, staring at the wall in front of me as he slid in closer. His hand moved out, landing right under my breasts and moving down.
The Sex Surrogate Page 15
