Audrey Exposed

by Queen, Roxy

  “What would you like to do?”

  “I could stay here forever. That’s all I need. God given orgasms. Where do I sign up?” She winks and gives me a blissed out grin.

  “Although they’re nice, having orgasms obviously isn’t your problem.”

  The smile falters. “No, it’s not.”

  “You’re comfortable with me. I think you trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “We’ve conquered so much. You’ve worked on your trust issues and feeling safe. You’ve opened yourself to me. We’ve exposed almost every inch of your body. You’ve even explored my body, but now I think it’s time to move forward. Step-by-step.”

  Her arms wrap around her stomach. Shadowy sadness flickers in her eyes. “So it’s time for the big stuff, huh?”

  “We’ve been through a lot of big stuff, Audrey. This is just one more level. We’re going to tackle this.”

  “Together.”

  “Yep.”

  “And then I’ll be cured and live my life as a strong, sexually empowered woman.” Her fingers make tiny circles on the countertop.

  I take her hand and bring it up to my mouth. I kiss her knuckles. “You’ve got this.”

  “Maybe,” she says. I sense the defeat building up and somehow we’ve gone from blissed out happy, to a sinking ship in a matter of seconds.

  “What are you afraid of?” I ask, watching helplessly as she gathers her bag.

  “Nothing,” she lies.

  “Don’t panic.”

  To my surprise, she says nothing else, leaving without another word. It’s obvious she’s completely overwhelmed by her demons.

  “Audrey,” I call, hoping she’ll hear me through the closed door. There’s no reply and I slam my fist on the kitchen table, knocking over a glass of water. I pick up the glass and throw it into the sink. Glass shatters and I turn, following her out the door. It’s too late, I realize, the elevator has already left the floor.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, walking back to the apartment to clean up the mess. She needs to cool off; and surely, she’ll come to her senses. I do know one thing, if she won’t fight her demons, then I will.

  Chapter 25

  (Audrey)

  The stink of incense pisses me off. So does the waterfall, the plants, Dr. Markson’s stupid Birkenstocks and her dumb braid. I hate her. I hate this office and I hate this stupid, fucking experiment.

  Dr. Markson smiles sweetly at me from her seat. Oh, and I hate that smile. I consider knocking it off. With my fist.

  “Thank you for coming in today. I know you didn’t want to,” she says. I refuse to reply. My silence makes her go for the big gun. “Graham is worried about you.”

  Ouch. “He shouldn’t be.”

  “You missed an appointment.”

  “I tried to call. There must have been a technical problem or something.” I cross my arms over my chest. No, too aggressive, so I move them to my side. Whatever. I don’t care.

  “I sense some hostility coming from you today.”

  No shit, Sherlock. “I’m not hostile.”

  We stare at one another because I’m acting like the Hulk and she’s trying to play nice. “Talk to me about what’s going on then? Until last week, your progress was right on track, actually better than on track. You’ve exceeded our expectations.”

  She’s being nice because she knows that if I leave her project is a complete and utter failure. They need me more than I need them. Graham and Dr. Markson. I don’t care if we have a contract or not.

  “Audrey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  Fuck. No. No. I’m done. Today is my last day. I told myself that a thousand times on the way over. “I think I want out of the project. No. I know I want out.”

  She looks unfazed. “Can you articulate why?”

  No. I can’t. However, if she could feel my heart right now, racing in my chest, she’d understand. “I just want out.”

  “I’m aware that you’re about to enter the final phases before penetration. Graham can slow down if you need him too. He’s very willing to move at your pace.”

  “I know he is.” I swallow back the lump in my throat. “It’s not about that. My life has gotten very busy. School is almost over. I’m graduating. One of my best friends is getting married in a couple weeks. I don’t have time to be here all the time.”

  “We can make adjustments for your schedule. Nights or weekends.”

  I stand, refusing to talk about this anymore. I came and said what I wanted to. I’m done. They can’t keep me here. “Thank you for the opportunity. I appreciate it and I have learned a lot. I’m sorry this didn’t work out.” At the door, I pause, hating the way I feel. “Send Graham my apologies,” I say, and walk out the door.

  Chapter 26

  (Graham)

  The blue flash of my phone adds to the glow from my laptop. Two guys bang a “virgin” in a messy bed. Her enormous fake tits and platinum blonde hair betray her innocence. My phone vibrates, skittering across the psychology book on my bed. A name flashes across the screen and I jump for it, ignoring the throaty moans from the computer. My hope beyond hope is that it’s Audrey.

  Margaret.

  Fuck.

  It’s the third time she’s called in the last week. It’s almost as if she’s aware that my project is about to fall apart, and that Audrey has bailed. I know what she wants. I kind of want it, too, something to ease the frustration. But I’m determined to see this project to the end. I check my messages again, just in case I missed her call, or a message or something. From what Dr. Markson told me, it’s unlikely.

  Dave went to the bar with Rachel. Cory’s out with her boyfriend, so I declined the role of third wheel for the evening. I wouldn’t mind tagging along except for the fact, they’re still in the early stages and they can’t keep their hands off one another. Rachel showed up wearing the tightest shirt and with a matching short skirt; and when Dave opened the door, I couldn’t help but notice that Rachel may have the perkiest nipples I’ve ever encountered. That is, except Audrey’s.

  I cursed under my breath and left the lovebirds on their own, holing up in my room, instead. Three months of abstinence has left me raw and undeniably horny. Hence the porn. I’m not willing to admit why I chose virgin porn.

  My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text, or rather a series of texts.

  I miss you.

  Margaret. Ever since I agreed to the date in June, she’s been relentless. No face-to-face contact, I had to stop that entirely, not because of her, but because of me. She’s pretty freaking hard to resist. So I’ve agreed to whatever she has planned for June, just to get her off my back.

  I miss your arms around me.

  I miss your tongue.

  I miss the way you feel coming inside me. The way you taste. I can’t wait until we’re together again, until we can fuck again.

  I ignore each message, but my dick twitches and tightens. I miss her, too. It’s one thing to deprive myself for the greater good of the research project. It’s another to hold out for no reason at all. If Audrey’s abandoned the experiment, why can’t I do the same?

  I shut the laptop just as the virgin shouts to the heavens about her perfect, first-time orgasm, and search the room for my keys.

  I’m wet just thinking about you.

  I shut off the phone and cram it in my pocket, slamming the door behind me. Audrey can sulk, panic, and freak out all she wants, but she can’t hide. Not from me.

  Chapter 27

  (Audrey)

  “You quit?”

  “Yes.”

  I had to tell Reese what happened. She called my bluff. Unlike Dr. Markson, she didn’t have to be professional. “Stop being a chicken.”

  “I’m not being a chicken! I have an anxiety disorder!”

  “Maybe so, but you spent the last three months getting massages, orgasms, and felt up by a sex god. I think you owe everyone a little bit more.”

  “I don’t have any more to give.
”

  “Bullshit.”

  She’s standing in the middle of my loft, hands on her hips, pissed off. No. She’s furious. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her this mad; not even when the caterer screwed up her wedding cake and put figurines of two men on the top because they got confused by her name.

  “I’m exhausted, Reese. All I ever think about is sex.” I drop to the couch. “I’m also absolutely terrified.””

  “About what?”

  For the first time in my life, I really want to have sex with somebody and what if I fail, like all the other times?

  “Well, the good news is that you want to do this,” she says, dropping into a kitchen chair. “When this first started you didn’t. You said Graham was very good at this. There’s nothing wrong with that, in fact, it really sounds like he’s excelling at his job. He’s trained you to want to fuck him.”

  “And kiss him and do dirty, dirty things with him.”

  “But what if I can’t? What if my body rejects him like the others? What if I really am just a fucking freak of nature? Because I just don’t know if I can handle that Reese.”

  Reese sighs and shakes her head. “Do you trust Graham?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he going to hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “Does he want you to succeed?”

  “Yes, almost as much as I do,” I say, aware that bailing on this project will hurt him.

  “Then give him a chance, okay? I’m sure it is terrifying. That’s the whole point.”

  “Even if I gather up the courage, it may be too late. I was pretty rude to Dr. Markson.”

  “I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

  I’m not convinced, though; and I’m working on my next argument when we’re interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Reese says, crossing the room. “And don’t move. We’re not done talking about this. I’m sure it’s just the Jehovah’s Witnesses. They came to my house three times last week.”

  She flings open the door, hand on her hip, ready to go toe-to-toe in a religious fight, but all she says is a long, drawn-out, “Helllooo.”

  “Is, uh, Audrey here?”

  The feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I hear his voice is enough to seal me to my spot. I don’t have to look to know that it’s Graham. I also know he’s probably flashing Reese his most endearing smile; and that any argument I had is now moot. She’ll never be on my side about this again. I peek around the refrigerator. Of course, he looks great, even though he looks a little pissed. I take in the way his hair dips in a perfect wave, making him seem innocent yet sexy. His biceps strain slightly against his green cotton shirt.

  “You must be Graham,” she says with a flirty lilt in her voice. “We were just talking about you.”

  Traitor.

  “I assume you’re Reese.” Again, with the flashing grin, I don’t have to assume this time. I can see it with my own eyes.

  “Ah, so my reputation precedes me.” The door creaks open further. “Audrey’s hiding in the kitchen.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I say, coming out of my hiding place. “Hi, Graham.”

  “Audrey.”

  He stares at me. I divert my eyes to the floor. Reese sighs heavily, and says, “Okay, I think you two have some stuff to work out. So I’ll just let you two handle it, and I’ll be going.” She grabs her bag off the couch. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “You too.”

  She’s out the door with a flip of her hair and we’re alone. I clutch the back of one of the kitchen chairs and sort out what I want to say. I’m sorry? I apologize? Let’s start over? Each one is a loaded statement traveling down a path I’m terrified to take.

  “Audrey, I think we need to talk and figure out what happened the other day.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bailed on you like that.”

  “To be honest, I thought it would’ve happened earlier.”

  I look up to find he’s inched closer, hands shoved into his pockets. His biceps bulge even more. “You did?”

  “Dr. Markson and I prepared for every possible outcome. You reacting like this is one of them. You’ve met or beat all of our expectations,” he says. “Having reservations right now is understandable. You’re about to tackle your biggest fear.”

  “Except I’m a quitter.”

  He shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re strong, Audrey, and courageous. And believe it or not, you’re very sexy. I know you doubt the power of your sexuality because of your anxiety. I just want to help you unite your strength and sexuality. Bring them together.”

  His words break my resolve, but they don’t take away my fear. I want to be strong; but the fear is paralyzing and tears roll down my cheeks, betraying my emotions. “I’m afraid.”

  His hands clasp around my arms. I sniff back another wave of tear-fueled anxiety.

  “Of what exactly?”

  “Of failure. If I fail at this, there’s nothing left. It’s not just about me having sex. It’s about me satisfying my partner. It’s about having children one day. It’s about living with this hanging over me day in and day out for the rest of my life.” I wipe my cheek with my hand. “I don’t have the energy to go through this again. I don’t want to let Dylan down again. Or you.”

  Graham releases my arms, only to pull me into his chest. My wet cheeks press against his shirt and he strokes my hair in the most comforting way. “I’m committed to the experiment, Audrey, and to you. I’m not ready to give up; and I’m not ready for you to give up.”

  “I don’t want to quit. I’m just so scared.”

  He tilts my chin toward his face. His sincerity is unwavering. I can tell this isn’t about the project or the results. “We’re going to keep going until we’re both satisfied with the outcome, okay?”

  His thumbs wipe the tears from my cheeks and I nod, clinging to him with every bit of hope I can muster.

  *

  The apartment looks different at night. Lights from the street glow in the darkened windows as Graham turns on several lamps I never noticed before.

  “Is it okay to be here so late?”

  “The apartment is for us to use whenever we want to work on the experiment. We’re the only ones who use it.”

  I move to the bathroom, planning to undress like I normally do. Just because we’re here at midnight after Graham and I had a tearful heart-to-heart in my kitchen, doesn’t mean things are different. At least that’s what I tell myself, but I think I know better. This suspicion is confirmed when he stops me before I leave the living room.

  “Don’t. I want to try something.”

  With my hand in his, he walks me to the bed, and says, “Stay here.” I wait, watching him shroud the room in darkness other than the few candles he lights one at a time across the room. He flips through the playlist and settles on the dreamy but uplifting soundtrack I’ve come to know as our music.

  “We’re not going to move ahead tonight,” he says, meeting me by the foot of the bed. “We will do nothing more than we already have done; but I want to heighten your senses in other ways.”

  Graham lifts my hair off my shoulder and strokes the warm skin of my collarbone. “Close your eyes,” he says. I allow them to flutter shut and I feel a soft kiss. A current ripples across my skin and a breath hitches in my chest. Again, he moves my hair from the other side of my neck and does the same thing. It’s heavenly.

  What follows is different, completely different, from before. Graham removes each piece of clothing slowly, gently, each item landing with a soft thud on the hardwoods. I’m embarrassed being so naked, but quickly distracted by his hands and mouth focusing on my revealed skin. Kisses as soft as butterfly wings graze over the insides of my elbows and across my belly button. Hot breath whispers over my hips, and I shiver when his teeth scrape against my ribs. I squirm as his sharp nails run down my spine. All of this is almost too much to bear as I stand in the room, anticipating
each wave of contact, my skin crawling with desire.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” he says, “and follow me.”

  I stumble on trusting feet, until my knees hit the padded bench I’m so familiar with. My knees buckle when he whispers, “Sit.”

  I do as he says, wrapping my arms around my waist.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No,” I keep my eyes closed. It’s dark enough that I’m not sure I can see him anyway. “I trust you.”

  “Good.” I feel him move my arms, taking away my defensive pose. As his arm brushes against my breast, I arch toward him. I long to feel his touch but he doesn’t satiate my need. Instead, he says, “Spread your legs, Audrey, as wide as you can.” I inch them open, consumed by the old fear rearing its head. It has nothing to do with trust. It’s innate. “I’m not going to touch you anymore. But I want you to touch yourself.”

  I open my eyes. The room is shadowy; but I can see Graham’s earnest blue eyes. “We’ve done more than this,” I say.

  “Yes, but this is more, it’s you exposing yourself to me. You’re in control. No coaxing by me. It’s just you.” His eyes meet mine. “Show me.”

  I nod, feeling a completely different level of anxiety. He’s right. This is another layer of exposure. I settle back against the end of the bed and spread my legs wider; something I can do for myself, but not as easily for him.

  My hand moves between my legs and my eyes close. I hear his voice again in the dark. “Look at me.”

  I do.

  In the darkened room, I touch myself, all while staring into Graham’s eyes. I run my fingers along my clit, focusing on the nub near the front. It’s something I do frequently; usually with the help of my pink rocket and a palm full of lube, but tonight, it’s not necessary. I’m already aroused from Graham stripping me down. I feel the warmth spread between my legs, wet and slick, when he locks his eyes with mine.

  I want to be embarrassed; I should be, but my body erupts with shivers, sparked by the sensation between my legs. Again, my legs fall apart, and Graham’s eyes move away from mine to watch my motions. His pink tongue darts out to lick his lips and I fight a moan. My breathing moves into quick, ragged pants. I see his hand press against his crotch as a grimace flashes across his face.