by Bebe Wilde
I paused before answering. She picked right up on it.
“Ah ha!” she exclaimed. “Deal breaker.”
“Kinda,” I said.
“Well, just tell him no,” she said. “And maybe you’ll meet your Prince Charming tonight.”
“You know that’s not going to happen,” I said.
“I know,” she replied. “It’s not. But at least we can get sloppy drunk.”
That didn’t sound like much fun. In fact, I was getting tired of the single lifestyle. Maybe I was getting older, maturing more or something. I began to wonder if maybe I should give Brent a chance.
“Bunny,” she said. “Do what you want to. If you’re unsure, give him one more shot. Maybe he just had a bad day or something. If it happens, it happens. If not, not. What could it hurt?”
“I think I might,” I said. “You’re not mad that I’m not going out tonight?”
“No,” she said. “We’ll miss you but we can always do this again.”
I smiled. “Cool. Well, have fun.”
“I will,” she said. “And you, too.”
I didn’t know if that was going to happen or not.
* * * * *
La Sol was a really nice restaurant. We got right in and were escorted to a nice booth in the back. We made nice, polite conversation while we waited on our drinks. Ditto as we waited on our appetizers and then our meal. Once dessert arrived, he turned to me and smiled.
“Tell me about your first boyfriend,” he said out of the blue.
I was a little taken aback, as no one had really ever asked me about this subject. I, myself, had mostly forgotten about him. He was a bore. We didn’t last. It was a very boring story. I didn’t think he’d want to hear all that, so I just shrugged and said, “He was nice but it didn’t work out.”
He nodded. “I’ve been engaged three times.”
“Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s a lot.”
“I think so, too,” he said, but didn’t venture any more information. He waved his hand at the waitress for the check. “But what are you going to do?” He paused and turned to me. “You’re finished eating, right?”
I nodded. Yes, the dessert was done. And now we could leave. I smiled at him and waited as he settled the check, then we got our coats. He helped me put mine on, then we left.
“I live a couple of blocks from here,” he said after we were outside the restaurant. “You want to come up for a drink?”
Of course, he lived there, in one of the nicest, most exclusive neighborhoods in the city. I didn’t want to go to his apartment, though. I just wanted to go home. While the dinner had been nice—and absolutely delicious—I knew I was just wasting his time. I liked him, but I could never see myself falling for him. There just wasn’t any chemistry there and chemistry was everything for me. I had to have it; those hot kisses where the man knew what he was doing. How they used their lips with an authoritative masculinity. Like they didn’t want you to get away and they had to kiss you. It just had to happen like that for me. The whole relationship was really formed in those kisses. Those kisses, those first kisses had to be good, they had to generate those deep longings, the ones that came from inside and got into your head until he was all you thought about. The kisses allowed you to want to be dominated by him, to be the woman he wanted to kiss, to obsess about. They allowed a woman to take it to the next level and to want the man who could take them there.
In a way, I wished Brent could have been that man. But he wasn’t and because of that, I didn’t want to see him again. I wasn’t about to lead him on, either.
“Come on,” he said when I didn’t respond. “Let’s have a drink.”
He was so nice and I hated to be a bitch. And I was curious about where he lived, so, I said, “Sure. Why not?”
So, I went with him to his fabulous apartment. It was actually two apartments he’d had converted into one and by city standards, it was huge. And very well decorated. It was tasteful and yet masculine. He had to have had a designer. A really good one. I was impressed. I didn’t have a problem admitting that, either.
“Nice place,” I said and sat down on the very overstuffed yet comfortable sofa in his TV room. I looked around at the expensive furnishings and the gigantic TV and at the level of taste it took to pull this room together. I could get used to this.
“It is,” he said and handed me a gin and tonic he’d just prepared. “I’ve been very lucky.”
“How’s that?” I asked and took the drink.
“I don’t know if you know anything about me,” he said, sitting next to me. “But I inherited this wreck of a publishing house.”
“Oh, I think I heard something about that,” I said, making sure I didn’t sound too interested or too knowledgeable.
“Anyway, long story short, I straightened it out and made a lot of money off it,” he said and looked around the room. “But I just wonder if this is too much. I mean, I’m only one person.”
“I’d love to have this,” I said. “My kitchen and living room could fit into this space.”
“But I like your apartment,” he said, turning to me. “It’s so cozy.”
“That’s just a nice way of saying it’s small.”
He laughed a little. “But I do like it. I’m a simple guy. My money manager talked me into doing this, said it would be a good investment. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Who knows?”
“Yeah, who knows?” I said and took a sip of my drink.
He turned to me. “Have you ever been engaged or married?”
“Uh, no,” I said, a little disconcerted again at his forwardness.
“I was, but I think I already told you that,” he said. “Three times. I picked wrong. I just used to be into looks. They were models, you know, not like you.” He paused and seemed to realize his faux pas. “Oh, shit, I didn’t mean that you’re not gorgeous,” he said hurriedly. “I just mean, models are models, you know? They’re…”
“Models,” I finished for him. “It’s okay, I know you just misspoke.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t want to, you know, make you feel like you weren’t as hot as a model. You are. You’re just…”
“I’m short,” I said and smiled at him. “It’s okay. In fact, I used to be a model. Really. I was.”
“For like petites or something?”
I laughed. “No! I was a hand model.”
“Wow. Really? Is there any money in that?”
I nodded. “Yes, quite a bit. It sent me through law school.”
“That’s really cool,” he said and took my hand, staring at it. “You do have pretty hands.” He smiled at me.
“Thanks,” I said and pulled my hand back.
“How do you like being a lawyer?”
“I like it,” I said. “I work in corporate law and it can get boring, but it pays the bills.”
“You must be really smart,” he said.
“I’ve been told that,” I said and smiled at him.
“So have you ever been engaged?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“I can’t believe someone hasn’t asked.”
“A few,” I said. “But they weren’t right for me.”
“Holding out for the one?” he asked.
The way he looked at me made me realize he was ready to move this thing forward. I wasn’t. His questioning was making me a little uncomfortable and made me flashback to the awful sex we’d just had the previous night, which made me even more uncomfortable. The thought of getting it on with him again was enough to make me realize that I had to leave. I had to get out of there. “Uh, I guess,” I said and stood, then bent and put my glass on the coffee table. “Listen, I have to get going. Thanks so much for a nice night. The dinner was lovely. My friends are going to be so jealous I got to go to La Sol.”
“We can go again,” he said and stood. “I know the owner. We play squash together.”
I
nodded and said, “Sure,” really quietly. Then I turned and made my way to the front door, waiting for him to get my coat out of the coat closet. He did and held it out for me. I put it on and said, “Thanks,” then turned to the door, ready to leave and never come back.
“Oh, you forgot something,” he said.
Oh, fuck, he wanted to kiss me now.
He tapped me on the shoulder with my clutch purse. Oh. Good. I smiled and took it, then patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, then. I’ll see you.”
“Do you want me to walk you home?”
“I’ll just take the subway.”
“No way! Let me walk you home.”
“I’ll just take the subway,” I said again and nodded. I had to get out of there before he tried to kiss me. I turned to the door.
“You forgot something else,” he said.
Oh, no. Oh, no.
He turned me around and smiled at me, bending down, his lips puckered and ready. I moved my face to the left. He moved his face to the left. I tried to wriggle away. He wriggled with me.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling back.
“Nothing,” I said hurriedly. “I think I might be getting a cold.”
“I don’t care,” he said and leaned back in. “I’ll catch a cold for this.”
I pushed him back and shook my head. “You really don’t want a cold. They’re bad. And messy.”
“I don’t care,” he said. “I just want to kiss you good night.”
“I just can’t.”
“But we did last night!” he said. “If I was going to get your cold, I probably would have gotten it already. It’s okay. I’ve already been exposed to the germ.”
We stared at each other. I stepped back. He stepped back and then his head fell to his chest.
“You don’t like me,” he said.
“Oh, it’s not that,” I said, hating that I’d made him feel bad. “It’s just I have a cold and…”
“You don’t have a cold, Bunny,” he said matter-of-factly. “You just don’t like me.”
“I do like you,” I told him and I did. I just couldn’t handle another night of sex like last night.
“Then what is it?” he asked and stared me dead in the eye.
“It’s…. Nothing. It’s… You’re so busy and I’m so busy… Well, it would be hard to have anything from that.”
“Be honest with me,” he said a little sadly. “Just tell me what it is.”
“It’s nothing! You’re great!”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he said. “Just tell me! I’m a grown man. I can handle it!”
I looked away from him.
“I can’t keep a woman,” he said. “And I don’t know why. Those models? They all left me as soon as they got their jewelry. Every woman I’ve had sex with left me after a few months. There’s something wrong with me and I don’t know what it is.”
I felt bad for him, but he did need to hear it, didn’t he? If just to keep him from continuing to embarrass himself, I should tell him. I decided that no matter how painful, it had to be done. I had to set him straight so that he would know what he was doing wrong. Being a lawyer, I was used to tackling difficult subjects. Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t want to do it; I just felt like it was my duty. “I’ll tell you,” I said. “But you can’t get angry with me.”
He nodded.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“I’m sure,” he said. “Lay it on me.”
“You bad in bed,” I said. “I mean, like, really, really bad. The worst I’ve ever had.”
It was like I had shot him. His mouth dropped to the floor. His eyes studied my face and I could tell the wheels were turning in his mind, trying to process what I’d just said, trying to convince himself that this couldn’t be true. But then he seemed to deflate and sighed loudly. “Yeah, I thought that might be it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and patted his arm. “But you’re still a great guy.”
“Who turns women off,” he said and gave me a little glare. “I hate being this guy!”
“A lot of men suck in bed,” I said. “And I’ve heard stories from my friends that would curl your toes.” I paused, thinking about how I could put this. “I think you might just be a little too eager, you know?”
He stared at me and nodded.
“It’s just women don’t want a man that’s too excited,” I said. “He has to be into it, sure, of course. But if he’s a fondling, gushing mess and there’s no real technique, it gets sloppy. Self assurance goes a long way.”
He nodded as if what I’d said made a lot of sense. “We could try it again. I promise I’ll do better.”
There he was, being too eager again. I sighed and said, “No, that’s okay.”
“Come on, what would it hurt?” he asked. “We’ve already done it once so it’s not like it’s something new. I’ve got some other moves I could show you.”
“That’s just it,” I said. “It has to be more organic than that. You don’t need moves. You just need to have sex. It’s about spontaneity and being in the moment. It’s not about one plus one equals two. You know?”
“No, I don’t know!” he exclaimed, getting frustrated. “Why don’t you teach me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Teach me how to be good in bed,” he said.
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I dunno! I don’t want to!”
He looked crestfallen but then he perked up. “I can tell you’re good in bed. I know you are. You’re definitely the best I’ve ever had.”
I hated to admit it, but that did make me feel pretty damned good. I knew I was good. All the men I’d slept with had told me as much and I’d never had any complaints.
“That’s why I overdid it on the flowers and La Sol,” he said. “I wanted to impress you because the sex was so good.”
For you, maybe, I thought. But I didn’t say that. I just nodded like, ohhhh…kay….
“I know I’m not that good in bed,” he said. “That’s probably the reason why I can’t keep a girlfriend. But, in all honesty, they weren’t that good, either. A lot of them just kind of laid there.”
“That’s a little too much information,” I said.
“Well, it’s true,” he said. “Sorry, I don’t mean to kiss and tell, but they didn’t move like you. You made me so… Well, fucking horny I couldn’t stand it!”
I blushed a little.
“And I want to do it again with you and next time I want to please you,” he said. “I just want you to like me.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling bad. He was so sweet and I felt like a bitch, kinda.
“Have you ever had a guy as bad as me?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but no, I haven’t.”
He nodded like he was assessing a situation rather than getting offended. “How do you know what you know?”
“I just go with it,” I said. “I just relax. I… Well, I’m out to get mine, you know? And I do what turns me on to get it. I want mine first, then we take care of you.”
“But I didn’t take care of you, did I?”
“You didn’t,” I said.
“But you could help me learn how to do that,” he said. “I’ll give you anything.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said and laughed a little. “I’m not a sex therapist or whatever.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean to teach me, like a friend.” He seemed to consider something. “I’ll give you anything. How about a new car?” he asked.
I almost laughed. It was like I was on a game show or something. But, no. I didn’t want a car. Parking would be a nightmare. I shook my head. “No thanks.”
“How about a vacation? To the Caribbean?”
“I can’t get off work,” I said. “I used all my vacation days a while back.”
“Well, you’re lucky you
can enjoy sex,” he said. “I don’t really enjoy it. I just don’t know how.”
I stared at him and felt really sad. That would suck so badly not to enjoy sex.
“Someone had to have taught you something sometime,” he said. “Otherwise, how would you know so much?”
I shook my head. This stuff couldn’t be taught, could it? But then I stopped because I suddenly realized I had been taught, by an ex, the ex, the one who had just broken my heart. I’d had great sex before but with him it was just out of this world. He was a little older than me and knew his way around a woman, to say the least. He just took control and knew what to do. He said once, “I am going to kiss you now. Don’t kiss me back. Just receive my kiss. I want to kiss you.” It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard a man say. It made me weak in the knees and the kiss he delivered had been our best. It was soft but urgent and so damned hot.
I had been so in love with him but we were polar opposites. Sure, we had great sex, but out of the bedroom, we were like oil and water. That’s why he had broken up. We just couldn’t get along with each other. He moved to Paris to be a bohemian artist and I stayed in the city to be a boring lawyer.
Then it hit me. Maybe Brent could be my chance at love again. When my ex and I had gone our separate ways, it was the most difficult breakup I’d ever gone through. I was still reeling a little from it. But maybe that time was over. I could actually see myself falling for Brent. I could see us being together. It was just this damned sex thing. It would be an issue with me. A big one. Brent could make a good boyfriend if we could get over this hurdle. However, I wasn’t sure if we could.
But maybe I could teach him a thing or two. I felt kind of obligated, to be honest, mainly because I was the one who had told him he was bad in bed. He was asking me to help him. He needed help. I didn’t know if I could do it or not, but I could try. And when I remembered the size of his penis, I realized that it might be fun if I could ever get through to him. He was a great guy all around. He just needed some help in the bedroom. It wasn’t that big of deal, was it? I mean, I could try. If it didn’t work, I could bail.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it but I need something in return.”
His whole face lit up. “Anything.”
