Intimate

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by Noelle Adams


  She didn’t laugh. She looked for a moment like she might burst into tears.

  Then she poked him hard in the side.

  “Ouch,” he complained, rubbing his side where she’d poked him. “What was that for?”

  “Just making sure it was really you. Seriously, thanks for saying that. I know that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable.”

  “It would be a lot easier to go about wooing you if you didn’t know me so well.”

  “Did you just say ‘wooing’?”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s a perfectly good word. In fact, I don’t know of another word that has the same connotation.”

  “Hmm. What about pursue? Entice? Seduce? Court?”

  Caleb snorted at her last suggestion. “All of those are too limiting. ‘Woo’ is the only appropriate word.”

  “All right. ‘Woo’ it is.” Her face changed. “Are you really trying to woo me?” Despite everything, she still looked like she couldn’t quite believe him.

  “You’ll certainly make it hard to do so if you analyze my performance every step of the way.”

  She leaned over until she was pressed up against his side. “What’s your next step?” she whispered, her breath blowing across his ear.

  He raised his arm until he had draped it around her. “If I tell you in advance, it would ruin the element of surprise.”

  Marissa nuzzled her face into his neck. “Who needs to be surprised?” One of her hands came up to rest on his chest, directly over his heart.

  His heartbeat accelerated as his body responded to her closeness, but he managed to keep his voice light. “Well, it’s very poor strategy to reveal future moves, but I was thinking my next step might be more kissing.”

  “Oh, good,” she said, tilting her face up to him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Unable to resist any longer, Caleb combed his fingers through her hair until they were curved around her head. He pulled her face toward him and caught her lips with his. He very gently lavished attention on her bottom lip with his mouth and his tongue.

  Marissa hummed softly with pleasure as he shifted his focus to her upper lip. One of her hands had fisted in his shirt, and the other moved up to rest on his shoulder.

  After a minute, he felt her smiling against his mouth.

  Caleb sighed and pulled away slightly, but didn’t let go of her head. “Are you laughing again?”

  “No,” she assured him. “I was just thinking what a good kisser you are. And how I’ve been missing out on your remarkable skills all these years.”

  His momentary discomfort faded at her words, and he felt a ridiculous surge of gratification. “Then we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

  Thirteen

  Marissa’s eyes kept getting wider as she got farther into the very sexy story she was reading.

  At the end of one particularly erotic scene, she paused. Then went back and read it again.

  She reread the last sentence of one paragraph about ten times, thinking about how incredible it sounded.

  She tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a lightning bolt of pleasure go straight to one’s pussy.

  It was almost midnight now, and she’d been reading for almost four hours, since Caleb was out of town for the weekend, having been hired for a wedding. He did fancy weddings occasionally and got paid exorbitant amounts for it.

  While Marissa had major doubts about sex ever being as good as she was reading, she was becoming more and more exhilarated by the story.

  Maybe the real thing was painful and nauseating, but there was something to be said for experiencing these imaginative fantasies in print.

  She shifted restlessly in her chair and stared at the words on her ereader.

  She was definitely feeling somewhat aroused from what she’d read thus far.

  It was a relief, really. Proof that her body would respond appropriately to imaginative stimulus. She’d tried to get herself off a couple of times and had no luck with that, but she was still encouraged.

  Of course, the sex turning her on was purely fantasy. It was only in her mind. She’d never been truly aroused by someone in real life. She’d felt occasional tingles from real situations, but only in a vague, fuzzy way.

  Kissing Caleb last weekend had been good and sensual and delicious—but even that hadn’t left her feeling hot and throbbing, which apparently it should have done.

  If these kinds of stories were to be believed.

  Without thinking, Marissa reached for her phone. Dialed a number and waited for her college roommate to pick up.

  “Marissa?” Lisa demanded. “It’s midnight. What do you want?”

  “Sorry. Tell me the truth, and I’m serious about this. Have you ever had a lightning bolt of pleasure go straight to your pussy from something other than your own imagination?”

  Lisa was silent for a minute. “What the fuck have you been doing?”

  “Reading a little erotica. But I’m having some trouble convincing myself that the sensations it describes are genuine. So tell me the truth—are you in the habit of experiencing lightning bolts of pleasure?”

  By this point, Marissa wasn’t even embarrassed by the question. Just really wanted to know.

  After a brief hesitation, Lisa answered, “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s not as easy as most erotic stories describe. It doesn’t always happen immediately, and I don’t usually get, er, really there without some preliminary work. But, yeah, I've felt that before. And not just in my imagination. I told you over and over again in college that sex can be really good.”

  Marissa sighed. “So it’s just me, then.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if it’s not just an elaborate myth or a collective societal delusion, then it’s just me who can’t feel such things. At least, not from anything but fantasies.”

  “You’ve never really given it a chance.”

  “I did too. I really tried in college. And I’m trying again. With Caleb.”

  “Didn’t I always tell you that you two would hook up eventually?”

  “I didn’t call to hear ‘I told you so’s.”

  “All right. But I did tell you so.” Before Marissa could object, Lisa went on, “Well, at least reading about sex is progress, since you wouldn’t even do that in college.”

  “Yeah. I told you I’ve been trying.”

  “Just give it some time. It sounds like you’ve already made some good steps. Your thing about sex is pretty long-standing. It isn’t going to fix itself overnight.”

  “That’s what my therapist says. But I want to get over this as quickly as I can. It’s really hard for Caleb.”

  “He’s crazy about you. He always has been. He’s not going to mind holding off for a little while until you’re more comfortable.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to make him do that.” She sighed and slouched down in her chair. “I just want to get better.”

  Lisa didn’t answer immediately. When she answered, it wasn’t what Marissa expected. “That’s some major progress right there. I’m not sure you really wanted to get better before.”

  They hung up shortly after that.

  Encouraged, Marissa immediately found the place in the story where she’d left off and started reading again.

  Her eyes widened again as the main characters moved into some very creative, sexy positions. Then the woman started pleasuring herself with her hand, and the man eventually added his own fingers to the mix.

  The woman in the story screamed as she came.

  Marissa tried to imagine two of her own fingers and two of a man’s inside her. Something about the image was inexpressibly hot, but Marissa was pretty sure it would never work for her. She could barely get two of her own fingers to fit inside her. Four at once?

  She knew her body would stretch with more experience, but she couldn’t imagine ever being able to fit four fingers down there.

  Just another sign that she was clearly not made fo
r hot sex.

  Now, Marissa was kind of depressed, so she turned off her ereader and got ready for bed. There was no use getting too aroused anyway, since there was absolutely no way for her to get any release.

  It was some kind of bitter irony. She couldn’t get very aroused by a flesh-and-blood man, but she could by an erotic, fictional story. And, although her body was capable of preparing itself for sex, it wasn’t capable of following through.

  It wasn't like she would expect to have a mind-blowing experience like the one she'd just read about, but it hurt that she couldn't imagine getting any pleasure out of sex at all.

  Her babysitter had clearly gotten pleasure out of sex. She felt a little sick remembering it.

  As she lay in bed in the dark, Marissa tried to imagine what an orgasm would feel like, but—despite the detailed descriptions she’d just been reading—she couldn’t even come close.

  * * *

  The next evening, Marissa was waiting for Caleb to pick her up for the birthday party of a mutual friend.

  She wore a new top and had spent more time than usual on her makeup. By some strange miracle, she’d finished getting ready early, so she decided to kill some time by reading more of her book.

  Maybe if she was aroused to begin with, she could get more turned on by Caleb. He was so attractive, and she wanted to have sex with him. But in some cruel twist of fate, she just couldn't feel like it yet.

  So maybe the erotica would help.

  Unfortunately, she was unable to test this clever plan because she’d only read the first paragraph of the next chapter when she heard him knocking. Then she heard his key in the door.

  “Marissa? I’m here.” Apparently, his discretion in waiting for her to answer the door hadn’t lasted past the first date.

  She jumped up and left her ereader on the coffee table—making sure to turn it off first. He looked insanely hot in gray and black, and on his face was a very familiar, dry smirk.

  Her heart swelling, she went over to give him a hug.

  Her heart swelled even more as his arms wrapped around her tightly and then refused to let her go.

  “I missed you,” she said into his shoulder. “I’m not at all appreciating these ritzy weddings that hire you to play for an entire weekend.”

  “I was only gone for three days,” he objected, pulling his head up to look at her. “But I missed you too.”

  She sighed happily, trying not to be embarrassed by how happy she was to see him. If it hadn’t been for her convenient erotica-reading mission, the last few days would have been endless.

  Before she had time to say anything in response, his face was descending toward hers. She turned her lips up to meet his and moaned softly as their mouths connected.

  He waited until she opened for him, and then he drew her tongue into his mouth.

  After a minute of deep, tender kissing, Marissa drew away. “That’s all for now,” she said firmly, despite her breathlessness. “We have a party to get to, and I don’t want to redo my makeup.”

  Caleb lowered his face to hers once more and spoke over her mouth. “The party and the makeup can both go to hell.”

  Then he kissed her again.

  This time he really threatened her makeup—not just her lipstick but her foundation and blush as well—since, after he pulled away from her mouth, he started pressing little kisses along her cheekbone and jawline.

  “Caleb, you’re doing that on purpose. Now I’m going to have to fix my makeup.”

  “You look gorgeous,” he insisted, staring at her hotly. “All flushed and rumpled.”

  “I suppose that makes you feel manly and possessive, but I’m not going to the party with messy hair and smeared makeup. I’ll be right back. And there’ll be no more kissing until after the party.”

  “You don’t need makeup,” he called after her as she made her way into the bathroom. “You’re gorgeous enough without it.”

  That was sweet. But stupid.

  It wasn’t as bad as she feared. Her cheeks were blazing and her lip-gloss was gone, but the rest of her face looked fine. Her hair was just slightly mussed, but it was easy enough to pat it into place.

  As she brushed some powder over her cheeks, she heard Caleb say, “What were you reading all weekend? It seemed like every time I called you were reading again.”

  “Nothing,” she said automatically, quickly swiping gloss over her very red lips.

  “I see you were at it again just now.”

  She made a desperate noise in her throat as she realized what was about to happen. She dropped the gloss and sprinted toward the living room. “No, Caleb! Wait! Don’t—”

  She reached him, only to discover she was too late. Caleb was seated on the couch staring down at her ereader.

  Where her very sexy story was still pulled up at a particularly graphic scene.

  With a howl of mortification, Marissa acted without thinking. She threw herself at him in a panic, frantically trying to get the ereader away from him.

  It should have been easy, since the ereader was set on his thigh. But he anticipated her strategy and grabbed it at the last moment. So Marissa ended up just tackling him.

  “Caleb, I said no. You’re not allowed to look at my stuff without asking.” She was sprawled out on top of him, still trying to grab the ereader back.

  Caleb easily maneuvered his arms until her flailing body was locked in his strong grip, but he kept reading over her shoulder. “But this is the good part. He’s about to taste her gush of hot desire.” In his voice mingled astonishment, amusement, and awe.

  All the fight left Marissa in an instant, and she slumped against his chest.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, humor warming his voice. His arms had relaxed around her, and one of his hands stroked her back.

  “It’s just a little erotica. What’s the big deal?”

  “I never said it was a big deal. You’re the one who assaulted me for innocently picking it up.”

  “I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to know what I’d been up to.”

  “I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” he murmured, looking past her face and back to the ereader.

  Trying not the cringe, she explained, “I never did before, but I’ve been trying to recently because…” She trailed off—the truth being a lot harder to admit than she’d expected.

  “Because why?”

  “My therapist suggested I try to explore my sexuality some. On my own. Away from the pressure of sex. So this is one way I was trying to do that.”

  “So this is for me?” he asked softly, his eyes deep, although his lips still looked slightly amused.

  She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “It’s for me too, so don’t let your ego grow way out of proportion.”

  “And has this particular endeavor been successful?” he asked, his voice deceptively light.

  Shrugging, Marissa turned around in his lap and closed down the book on her ereader. “Not so you’d notice. But it’s too early to tell, I suppose.”

  He kept one arm around her, so she settled back against his chest, relishing how hard and warm his body always seemed to be.

  The arm he held her with loosened—now that he realized she wasn't trying to escape—so Caleb caressed her belly and side with his free hand. Marissa exhaled in pleasure at his touch and let out a surprised squeak when she felt his lips on her shoulder.

  “I thought we needed to go to the party.” She felt the familiar wash of pleasant heat and a few fuzzy tingles in her belly and lower.

  No lightning bolt of pleasure, however. By this point, she hardly expected it.

  “There’s no hurry,” he murmured over her skin. She shuddered at the vibrations from his voice and relaxed even more completely against him. She felt boneless and pliant—like he could have moved her any way he wanted.

  Because she was so relaxed, she didn’t even notice when his hand slid up higher. She didn’t notice until his palm lightly brushed ac
ross her breast.

  His mouth moved to the pulse in her throat, and he spoke over it in the huskiest voice she’d ever heard him use. “Let’s skip the party tonight. We could make better use of our time by staying here and reading more about her gush of hot desire.”

  Marissa gulped.

  And for the first time in her life, she felt a lightning bolt of pleasure go straight to her pussy.

  ***

  She panicked.

  The unexpected and entirely new sensation made her stomach spasm in fear, and she jumped off his lap awkwardly, taking a few running steps across the room to put some distance between her body and his.

  Then, of course, she felt absolutely stupid.

  Caleb stared at her open-mouthed. After a tense silence, he asked, “Marissa?”

  “Sorry,” she muttered, knowing her face was blazing and that she was shaking from confusion, panic, and lingering desire. “We’ll be late for the party.”

  He watched her soberly “We don’t have to go. If you’d rather—”

  “I want to go to the party,” she interrupted sharply, terrified that he was going to mention something that would get her all hot again. “It would be rude not to.”

  Something changed in his eyes. “All right,” he said lightly, getting to his feet. “Sorry I intruded on your privacy.”

  The fear in Marissa’s belly transformed into an ache of regret. She hated herself for how silly and cowardly she was acting.

  How had she turned into such a wimp?

  “It’s fine. No harm done.”

  He just nodded. “You ready to go?”

  They left the apartment and rode down the elevator in silence. Marissa watched him nervously out of the corner of her eye. He looked cool and detached and perfectly in control. As if he was completely untouchable.

  Which meant, of course, that she had hurt him.

  The ache in her stomach moved to her throat.

  He had been so kind and patient with her, and she was acting like a child.

  Sex wasn’t that hard. People had it every day. Twenty-three-year-old women shouldn’t panic when they felt a little arousal.

  Well, things were going to change. She was going to pull herself together. She wasn’t going to be a victim of her stupid, long-standing issues. She had her fair share of courage and resolve, so all she had to do now was use them.

 

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