Teach Me Something (Something Series Book 4)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  “I don’t know because I’ve never really had a man be that way. But if the prospect is, uh, exciting to me, then I suppose it means I may like the change.”

  “It turns you on to think of being bossed around in the bedroom?”

  I knew he was only asking professionally, but that question coupled with his voice was making me a little too hot and bothered. “I’m not sure the word bossy is the right one. More like I want a man who knows what he wants and isn’t a gentleman every time when it comes to sex.”

  I sighed, thinking about way too many lights-out, under-the-covers lovemaking I’d experienced over the years.

  “Sometimes a woman just wants to be fucked against a wall, hard.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, not believing I’d let that thought slip out of my brain and into actual words.

  To his credit, Calvin didn’t laugh. But he did clear his throat and for a moment seemed at a loss for words.

  Not waiting to hear his response to my word vomit, I quickly sought to change the subject. “So, I guess I’ll finish filling out the form with my information and see if she might have a match.”

  Something told me wall banging might not make it onto the list.

  Luckily, he picked up on my effort and went with it. “Great. And don’t be discouraged if she doesn’t have a date for you immediately. She’d rather find someone you’ll have a connection with than hurry up and put you with someone you won’t. You obviously don’t want to settle. Right?”

  “Uh, sure.” I wanted to believe that.

  “Now, then, I’m going to read a couple of things on your fifty bucket-list items. Are you comfortable with that?”

  Nope, not at all. “Yes, I think so.” My entire body heated with embarrassment over the things he was reading. But, true to his professional nature, he didn’t linger over the paper, merely putting it to the side after a minute.

  “Talk to me about the things you’ve used to try to masturbate.”

  Officially the most awkward question I’d ever been asked.

  So much so it took me a moment to recover enough to answer. “Uh, well, nothing aside from my own, you know, hand.”

  He reached for a notepad and jotted down a couple of items. “These are the devices I recommend for maximum pleasure and to fulfill number one on your list.”

  Nothing like putting that out there in the course of conversation or having a man write down, from memory, the make and model to use for the ultimate female orgasm.

  “Kat, there’s nothing to be self-conscious about. You’re coming out of a long-term relationship. Having to rely on yourself for your own orgasm is new.”

  “Actually, I should’ve bought one a while ago, considering my ex wasn’t always interested in whether or not I achieved one.”

  “Did you ever fake it?”

  “No, never. I made the mistake of faking it with a college boyfriend once. Not only did I do him a disservice, but I was stuck feigning them going forward. If I’ve learned anything after turning thirty, it’s that life is too short to fake an orgasm.”

  He chuckled. “That would make a great T-shirt slogan. I like that you get the importance of that lesson. Your homework this evening is to order one of these devices. I jotted down a couple of websites which I recommend. They’re discreet in the packaging and reasonable in their prices.”

  He leaned forward and my gaze traveled to his strong forearms. They weren’t helping with the whole hot and bothered scenario, which had started with his husky voice when I’d first entered the room. I suddenly wondered if any of those websites had same-day shipping.

  “My intention is to push you out of your comfort zone on some things. In this case, that includes buying a vibrator. I hope you’ll take these tasks seriously. Did you get your phone?”

  I swallowed hard and then nodded. “Yes.” I rattled off the number and watched while he put it into his phone. I wondered if it was his real phone but reasoned it was most likely for ‘work’ only.

  “After this week, do you think I’ll be good?” I had to ask because I was the kind of girl who needed to see results to keep me motivated.

  His smile grew from a small one to a knowing grin with which I was becoming familiar. “Kat, you’ve always been good. I have no doubt you’d eventually navigate this world of dating and also find your sexual confidence on your own. Think of this as a boot camp, if you will, in order to get you there faster. Are you ready to be a good student?”

  I could do this. “If you’re willing to be a good teacher, you bet.”

  ***

  After arriving home, ordering Calvin’s suggested device for overnight delivery, and then crawling into bed, I let my mind replay the evening. One thing which struck me from tonight was Calvin mentioning I shouldn’t settle for less. But I worried that if I was too picky I’d miss out on my window to become a mother.

  That I may, in fact, already have missed out. It was that fear I hadn’t revealed to him—or to anyone else, for that matter. I couldn’t face sharing the harsh truth that I’d been in the middle of fertility treatments, one week away from an egg retrieval process for in vitro fertilization, when my husband had come home to announce he wanted a divorce. After a year of tests, unsuccessful previous treatments, and on the verge of our last and best hope, he hadn’t been ready to start a family and had instead wanted out.

  Nothing like being hyped up on hormones, hoping I was weeks away from two pink lines, only to have the rug pulled out from under me completely. In typical fashion, he’d tried to turn it on me, citing my career choices didn’t show a true commitment to becoming a mother—that we’d been stuck in a rut, and he’d needed to breathe again. In short: I’d suffocated his potential.

  I knew in my heart it wasn’t true. I’d never been the type who needed to live in the spotlight, nor did I have any problem shifting my priorities for a child. But it had still cut deep. I’d been about to further a commitment to my husband by starting a family while he’d been checking out—without me having a clue. The whole thing had left me reeling. How could I have been so naïve?

  Thinking of my ex, I finally got up the nerve to listen to the voicemail he’d left after he hadn’t gotten an answer from me the first time.

  “Hi, Catherine. It’s Michael. We need to talk. Please call me.”

  I pressed delete, not wishing in the least to speak with him. After the initial shock of his divorce announcement had passed, I’d prayed for months that he’d call saying he’d changed his mind. But two years later, now he needed to talk? Hearing a ding coming from the kitchen, I got up and found my new phone, charging on the countertop, was lit up. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Calvin’s text message. He was simulating that we’d just been out this evening for the first time.

  “Enjoyed this evening and our date.”

  I chewed on my lip and wondered what I should answer, settling with, “Me too.” That was good, right? In this scenario, I was making my date aware that I’d also enjoyed it without being too wordy. I was pleasantly surprised to see his quick response.

  “When can I see you again?”

  My pulse quickened, and I mentally slapped myself. This was not a real date, and he was not a man actually interested in me. This was an assignment with someone who was being paid to help me with my text-flirting skills.

  “Tomorrow night OK?”

  “Sure, see you then.”

  ***

  The next afternoon I met my friend Sasha for what would be our last weekly lunch, now that she was moving from New York City down South. I gushed over her beautiful engagement ring, thrilled to have helped Brian with his proposal. I had never seen Sasha look so happy.

  Sasha had been hard to read and fairly closed off when I’d first met her. But over the last year, we’d grown quite close, having a lot in common with our careers, love of fashion, and both being in our thirties.

  “Although I’m ecstatic to move back to Charlotte and in with Brian, I’m going to miss our lunches and girl time toge
ther here in the city.”

  I would, too, and told her as much. “Hopefully, I’ll still see you whenever you travel up here, and we have Vegas this weekend.”

  We spent some time catching up on our jobs and what was new and then delved more into the personal.

  “So how’s the dating world? Have you, um—” She paused, probably not knowing if she should ask if I’d returned to the sex club or not.

  I decided I wasn’t ready to share that I had. At least not yet. “I’ve signed up with a professional matchmaker and meet with her later this week.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “Could be. And there’s this guy I’ve sort of gone out with a couple of times.” Yeah, so I wasn’t being exactly truthful in bringing up Calvin in this context. But heck, if I was acting this thing out, it made sense I’d ask my girlfriends for some advice along the way as if it were the real thing.

  “You’re blushing, which I think means you must like him.”

  Oh, Lord, if only she knew that wasn’t the reason I was turning pink. “Well, it’s new, and I’m still not great at this whole new world of dating. It’s intimidating as hell.”

  She sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know what I would’ve done if Brian and I hadn’t already been friends and coworkers before dating. I could talk a good game and get a guy’s phone number in a bar, but I find the whole getting-to-know-them phase very overwhelming. And since my first impressions on anyone I meet are usually for shit, that sort of rules out a lot of people right off the bat, both as friends in general and as dates.”

  What was funny about Sasha was that she came across tough as nails and smart as hell, with an intimidating beauty in which a raised brow could send a man screaming for the hills, but I’d been privy to the softer side of her. The side she didn’t let her guard down for very often. I was privileged to have gotten to know her as a friend. And I’d seen her practically melt whenever her fiancé looked at her. Plus, she was one of the most loyal people I knew.

  My phone buzzed, and since it was my regular phone and could be work, I had to check it.

  “Is that the guy you’ve been seeing?”

  I shook my head as I read the text from my ex-husband.

  “Catherine, are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, my ex has been trying to call me the last couple of days. Since I haven’t called him back, he just sent a text.”

  “About what?”

  I showed her the message. “He’s asking if he can come over tonight to talk.”

  Her eyes got big. “You don’t think he wants to get back together, do you?”

  I scoffed. “Not for a minute. It’s been two years.”

  That ship had sailed. I typed back that I was busy and then wracked my brain for what he might want, but came up with absolutely nothing. We’d had a prenup which had divided up our assets, so even if he wished to talk money, he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  ***

  “We need to work on your texting,” Calvin blurted out immediately as I sat down that evening for our third meeting.

  “Okay.” My first thought was the text sent from my ex, so it took me a moment to realize Calvin meant the ones I’d sent him last night. “What, um, what did I say that was wrong?” I’d politely responded I’d see him tonight and didn’t get the problem.

  “It wasn’t wrong, but you missed an opportunity to flirt. To build interest and—”

  “Not be boring,” I finished on a sigh of defeat.

  He shook his head. “I was going to say to set the stage for the next date. Did you contact the matchmaker?”

  “I did. I’m meeting with her on Thursday night before I head out of town on Friday morning.”

  “That’s right, you mentioned a trip. Any place fun?”

  “Las Vegas, actually.”

  It was hard to read his reaction through the mask, but his silence was strange.

  “Um, are you not a fan of Vegas?”

  “No, I am. Maybe you can live it up a little, or is your trip there for work?”

  I was a little vague in my answer, given that I didn’t want to accidentally slip up and mention names or anything else specific. “Personal plans and sure, maybe I can live it up while there.”

  But he didn’t seem ready to let it go. “Are you there with friends?”

  “Yes, for a sort of girls’ weekend.” Friday would be a ladies’ night involving not only Haylee and Sasha, but also Brian’s younger sister, Kenzie. Then on Saturday the women would surprise their significant others and their guy friends and make it a group event. I looked forward to a weekend of non-work-related fun.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was prying.”

  It could’ve just been me, but he appeared off. “It’s okay. Are you all right?”

  He recovered immediately. “Yes, of course. Did you receive your vibrator in the mail?”

  Holy subject change.

  “I did, but I haven’t been home yet. I could hardly use it at work even if I’d had it shipped there.”

  Something told me he was raising a brow behind his mask. “Or you could do something very unconventional and bring it to work. I’m assuming you have an office, maybe a lock, and a lunch hour.”

  Wowsers, his voice had slipped an octave lower and I was a heartbeat away from asking if he’d call me on said lunch hour to talk me through it. Something told me his voice alone could make all the difference. “Uh, maybe.”

  “So let’s go through some icebreaking questions you can ask on your first dates and some suggestions I have for flirting.”

  ***

  I gulped down a glass of white wine and dubiously eyed the battery-operated device where it sat on my granite countertop. I’d already taken a hot shower, read the directions, and changed into a sexy nightgown. Why the last part, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I needed to seduce my damn vibrator.

  Rolling my eyes at the thought, I threw back the remainder of my glass. Knowing that Calvin would ask me about it tomorrow evening meant I needed to get on it. Literally. The buzzing phone startled me. For a moment I wondered if the vibrator had taken matters into its own hands by turning itself on. I blushed when I read Calvin’s incoming text.

  “How’s your evening?”

  Was he trying to hint at asking whether or not I’d played with my new toy yet?

  “Good, yours?”

  “Getting better. What are you up to?”

  Good grief. No pressure, considering he probably had a good idea exactly what I was up to. Not knowing what to text back, I decided to pour another glass of wine and leave my response to wait. Maybe I’d have a clue how to respond after I was done.

  Ten minutes later, and I could definitely endorse the makers of the rabbit. Oh, yeah, if I’d been a smoker, about now I’d definitely be lighting up. But with the two glasses of wine and the healthy afterglow of the first orgasm I’d experienced in almost two years, I was out like a light.

  ***

  To text or not to text? That was the question I contemplated the next morning while I dressed for work. Calvin’s subsequent text message had come in after I’d passed out and was still up on the screen, waiting to be answered.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

  Well, at least I had until this evening to figure out how to talk about masturbation openly. For now, I had a full day of work to get to.

  By the time I walked into our usual meeting room at seven o’clock, I realized it would’ve been less awkward to have texted him back about last night rather than have to converse with him in person. And Calvin wasn’t beating around the bush.

  “Good evening, Kat. Although your flirting via text needs work, not responding is worse.”

  Call me old-fashioned, but I preferred my sex with a man in the room instead of via text message. “I understand, but here’s the thing. I think there needs to be a comfort level or intimacy in order to sext message with someone. No offense.”

  �
��Uh, none taken, but I wasn’t trying to sext you. Given the timing, however, I apologize for the misinterpretation, not to mention the interruption.”

  My entire body heated with the depth of my embarrassment. But I wasn’t surprised at my miscue, given my propensity for entirely misreading a man’s signals. “No need to apologize. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve grossly misconstrued something like this.”

  “You’ve thought someone was trying to sext you before?”

  I shook my head, “Uh, no, not that. But I do tend to misread the signs as to whether or not somebody is into me, flirting or not. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I’m so terrible with flirting, because half the time I’m not sure if a guy is actually into me or just being friendly. Isn’t it highlighted by the fact you simply asked how my evening was, and I went and thought it was a precursor towards phone sex?”

  He smiled kindly, and I had a vision of him patting me on the head like the golden retriever to which I’d compared myself in our first meeting. Way to go, Catherine.

  “It’s not uncommon to wonder if someone is flirting or only being friendly. People have subtle and unsubtle cues. Reading them depends on if you already have a rapport with the individual, or if you’re on a first date and have only just met.”

  “That makes sense, but my biggest blunder happened on the heels of my divorce with a friend with whom I’d sort of hoped for more. He was divorced, too, and we had a lot in common and went out a few times socially. Anyhow, I totally misread the situation, thinking perhaps he wanted more than friends and tried to kiss him after a few drinks. I thought—” I made the air quotes with my fingers. “—that he’d given me the cue, but he hadn’t. It was embarrassing, and then I found out later he’d been in love with somebody else entirely. I’d been totally clueless.”

  “After your divorce, you had to be at your most vulnerable.”

  “That’s a nicer description than the word desperate, but yes, I was. Luckily, he was gracious enough to pretend it never happened, and the friendship has endured. Matter of fact, his wife is a really great friend of mine now, and I’ll see them in Vegas this weekend.”