by Dani Stowe
“What’s the matter?” he leans in, cupping one side of my face.
“I feel faint.”
“C’mon, baby girl,” he says putting an arm behind my back and the other under my knees. “Relax. I’ll carry you.”
Carry me. This is the second time in my life that Jaxon is carrying me, except this time, he is doing it effortlessly. Last time, I jumped on his back and he nearly fell over, but I didn’t care. Consumed by fear of increasing heat on our backs and the heights we were about to cross during the fire, I clung to him.
But this time, Jaxon lifts and folds me to his chest where I melt against his baby blue V-neck tee and sink into his arms.
No clinging required.
When we get to the elevator, I reluctantly push the button for us to go up and I encourage Jaxon to put me down because, not only do I feel better, but I also feel like I need to keep my wits about me.
I stand with my own two feet on the ground as we enter the elevator and as soon as the door closes, Jaxon is on me. I let him kiss me this time—no fighting, no arguing, and no turning away out of fear. He’s so sexy and determined. He makes it easy for us to swap tongues. He keeps his hips back, avoiding any contact at the groin.
Smart man.
My lips are sore when the doors slide open and Jaxon releases my face to grab my hand and lead me out. We are on the top floor, which I recognize, and Jaxon leads me to the right.
Stopping in my tracks, I pull on his hand. “That’s the way to Nick’s office. I thought your office was this way.” I point to the hall in the opposite direction because I know exactly where Jaxon’s office is. I had mapped it out hoping I could avoid him prior to yesterday.
Jaxon lets go of my hand to wrap his fingers around the nape of my neck and massage it. “We’re just going to talk.”
I snap, “To Nick?! I don’t want to talk to that asshole. He left me waiting in his office yesterday for nearly an hour. Is that why you brought me here?” I’m fuming. “Is this about your drug trials? Have you been trying to seduce me so I would approve them?”
I pull his grip from me, which only makes him huff before raking his fingers against the sides of his skull over his scalp.
“Listen,” he groans. “I brought you here so we could talk. And I forgot to mention Nick stood you up because he had to take Loulah to the doctor.”
Loulah went to the doctor? I hope she’s okay. Now, I feel bad, but...
“I still don’t understand why we’re headed to Nick’s office.”
He rolls his eyes and head back with a sigh. “Because we need to talk.”
I’m so confused. “Talk about what?”
“Us. Jeez. Us. We’re here to talk about us.”
Us? I love the sound of such a sweet word dripping repeatedly out of Jaxon’s beautiful mouth, but it’s also too much to bare. I hate to break his heart. “Us” will never be a reality.
I hear a latch click and Nick’s office door opens slowly to reveal an extremely tall gentleman in a slick beige suit and plum-colored tie. “Hello, Sue. How are you?” the gentleman with chestnut brown wavy hair and a shortly-trimmed thick beard calls from down the hall and makes an approach.
He swings his free hand to one side while keeping the other in his pocket. He is as smooth in his strut and as confident in his stance as Jaxon, except the man approaching is much taller.
I glance between the two men. My breathing hitches. I feel like I’ve been lured to the peak of Mount Olympus where I’m about to become an offering to Grecian gods.
The gentleman reaches his large hand out. His fingers are thick and long and I can see hardened patches of callouses mounted to the small mounds of his flesh between the creases of his palms. Reluctantly, I grip his hand and look him in the eyes—brown eyes like all the men of NIM, so these look and feel familiar. His pleasant smile beams cheerily and genuinely above what appears to be a deep chin cleft embedded in his bristled jaw chiseled at sharp angles. He smells as expensive as Jaxon does.
Damn, these men have money.
“Don’t be intimidated,” the gentleman says, giving me a firm handshake, his calloused palm scratching against mine. “We’re all friends here. Why don’t we all step into Nick’s office and have a chat about your condition?”
Whoa!
“Excuse me? My condition? I’m not going to talk to you about my condition.” I glare back at Jaxon and hiss. “What’s going on here? Why would you give personal details—my personal health history—to some random stranger? Are you trying to damage my reputation for the sake of your drug trials?”
“Don isn’t a stranger, Sue. Don is one of my best friends and a sex therapist—a doctor. I think he can help you. Help us.”
“Wait,” I squint, examining Jaxon’s tall, dark, and handsome friend and I can’t believe it. “Don?”
He nods proudly with a gleeful grin.
“As in... Tiny?”
“I don’t go by that name anymore,” he growls with a wicked glare.
His glare does not distract my reaction. I cup my cheeks in delight and let my eyes wander about Don from head to toe. Don’s transformation is remarkable. “My, my,” I blush. “I’m so sorry, but you’ve just grown so tall and lost so much weight. I can’t believe it’s you. You must work out—a lot.”
Don’s mouth curves upward and he blushes. “Yeah, I work out.” His eyes sparkle and my heart leaps with the thought the chunky kid from high school has become a knockout.
“You look amazing!”
“You’re as beautiful as you ever were,” he returns.
I laugh. “No, I mean it, Don. You’ve really turned out to be something. You’re gorgeous in the manliest sense of the word, of course. You’re absolutely adora—”
A set of strong fingers tugs my hand away from my face, gripping my palm with a tight squeeze. “Okay,” grunts Jaxon, yanking me to his side. “He gets it. He’s a grown up. You’re impressed.”
Don’s face shifts to seriousness in observation of Jaxon’s fingers intertwined with mine. I feel as beguiled as Don with Jaxon’s display of jealousy.
“Sue,” Don says, “I hope you don’t mind, but Jaxon phoned me. He’s very interested in dating you, but he’s also mentioned there’s some history between the two of you he fears might be keeping you both from engaging fully.”
“Honestly,” I shy, “I’m not capable of dating anyone or engaging fully.”
“Is that so?” Don looks perplexed.
“Yes,” I affirm with a strong nod, despite the weak ache in my chest. I try to pull my hand loose from Jaxon’s grip, but he nearly crushes it to the point I let out a small yelp and I close my eyes to take a breather. They give me a moment to collect myself, and when I open my eyes I observe the men exchanging peculiar glances.
Don slips one hand in his pocket to make a tic-tac sound. “With all sincerity, Sue, I believe we are all capable of much more than we think we are. Since we are old friends, I’d like to offer my services to you this morning. Nothing would make me happier than to see my old friends fully engaged...” he clears his throat. “That is of course, if you’re up to having a chat. I’d love a chance to sit down with you, ask you a few questions, and then assess your situation.”
“My situation? Or me?” I query cockily.
These boys may have pulled us girls out of a fire, but I’m just as suspicious as I ever was when my girlfriends and I would ponder what NIM was doing in Elliot’s bedroom when we were teenagers.
Don places his hand over his heart. “Jaxon’s never gotten over you, Sue. I just want to help.”
Jaxon’s never gotten over me! I guess it’s not that hard to believe. He did kiss me while I was on the toilet and he’s still clutching my hand despite the sweat that’s beginning to pool between our palms. It reminds me of the sweat beading down his neck leaking into my mouth when he carried me across the ladder during the fire.
Don notices the spark I’ve unintentionally allowed to ignite, warming my insides and no do
ubt my cheeks. He holds out his palm to direct me to the end of the hall. “Why don’t we sit down? We can chat in Nick’s office.”
I don’t move immediately, nor do they. These men, geeks, gods, nerds—they scare me a little. Who knows what hidden emotional pain lurks within the masses of brain matter under their skulls made thick by repeated blows after getting beat upon by big bullies back in the day. Of course, I’d like to believe NIM didn’t just transform into finely sculpted men but rather good men, which I have no idea, especially considering the drug they’ve developed. It’s savagery really. This drug could change the way the entire human race interacts with one another, possibly forcing our evolutionary behavior to recess back to the days of the caveman or advance with unnatural acceleration.
Jaxon leans over my shoulder to whisper, his warm breath funnels deep into my ear. “I can carry you in there, Sue baby. Do you need me to carry you?”
The space between my legs gets wet with his whisper. I let out a fake sigh. I don’t want the doctor to know. Nudging Jaxon with my elbow aside, I take a step forward, but slowly.
I’m afraid. I’ll be the only one in that office without a penis and I know damn well that male genitalia will end up being the focal point of our discussion. I just hope when everything is said and done, I won’t have to be the one carrying Jaxon out as he’ll be feigned with disappointment when he learns there’s no chance for “us.”
Chapter 11
Ursula
It felt like he had torn into me with that first thrust in the shower and I pushed the skinny teen geek out and off of me.
“Whoa!” Jaxon cried, immediately coming back to cup my face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Sue, I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck repeatedly between apologies and pleas to try again.
He was begging to try again.
“Sue, I know it’s bigger than average. I promise I won’t go so deep. Can I try again? Please,” he begged. “It felt so good just that one time. Please.”
My mind was as torn as the space between my legs. I rubbed my forehead. I didn’t want Jaxon to enter me again until he hugged me, confessing, “Sue, I think I’m in love with you. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I want you to break up with your boyfriend. I want to take you out on a date.” He kissed the middle space of my chest and lay his head against my breast. “I know I don’t deserve you or deserve this, but even if we don’t continue, I still want to be with you.”
I turned my head away to stare at the dew covered white tiles embedded between white grout. He still wanted me. I still wanted him but I wasn’t sure if I could be with him. It hurt.
My essence stung and I was about to tell him the truth of my virginity, which was just as painful as my body, and I didn’t really want to continue, but I felt his mouth latch onto the teat of my breast, which seemed to ease the sting between my legs.
I looked down at him and the second our eyes met, his mouth let go of my nipple with a hard suck and he popped up to kiss me. Jaxon’s lips were full and hot; his mouth hungry. He shoved his slick tongue behind my teeth only to withdraw it quickly. “Can we try again? Please, Sue. I’m not going to hurt you this time. Please, I love you.”
He loved me. He rescued me and he loved me. I’d always heard it hurt the first time. I figured, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I let him try again.
“Okay,” I nodded.
A teensy-weensy part of me wished Jaxon hadn’t rescued me because I might not have turned around as he asked.
“Sue, I love how tall you are, but it might be better if you turned around. I think I can take better control if you face your back to me.”
I turned around.
“Oh God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, rubbing his hand over my shoulder then down my back until it landed with a squeeze on my butt. “I want to make love to you.” Grabbing my hips, Jaxon pulled my bottom back towards him and the next thing I knew, I was filled to the core with pain. Intense, cycling, excruciating, raw, cry-worthy pain.
“Did you ask him to stop?”
I glower at Don, pen-in-hand, taking notes, sitting in Nick’s black leather chair.
“There’s no judgment here, Sue. I’m just querying the details.”
“I did not,” I answer, looking over to Jaxon, whose eyes are closed as he slouches in his chair massaging his forehead.
“If you were uncomfortable, why didn’t you ask Jaxon to stop?” continues Don.
“I don’t know,” I shrug.
“Did you feel obligated because he pulled you out of a burning house?”
“No,” I say sternly.
“Did you feel—”
“I was crushing on him! I liked him and I knew he liked me and I just thought my first time was going to be perfect with him.”
“Mmm,” Don moans, getting just as distracted as I, seeing Jaxon squirm in his seat.
I feel badly. It wasn’t Jaxon’s fault what happened between us, but it’s clear he feels that it is. The men exchange a nod and I get the feeling there might be more going on here than it seems.
Don flashes me a warm smile that puts me at ease and encourages me to take a breather in preparation for more questions. After a few minutes, Don starts up with a separate line of questioning. He asks about my triggers, focusing on my feelings regarding kissing. He asks about boyfriends. None. Sex? Never again. He asks a few questions related to the male anatomy and asks me to look at some photos on a tablet. A few of the images, including some hot dogs, appear phallic in nature—but none of the representations truly bother me. Don questions me about my medications at which point he slows down, taking detailed notes. He also asks about my former therapists and any other treatments I may have participated in.
When he’s finished scribbling on his legal-sized notepad, he flips closed the hard, brown leather folder encasing the notepad, puts down his pen, and crosses his hands together.
“I do believe I’ve come to some conclusions, Sue, and I’d like to help you. Before I continue though, I’d like to know how you feel about Jaxon.”
I shrug. “How do you mean?”
“There is a sexual energy that exists between the two of you. There’s no doubt about that, but Jaxon wants more. I feel compelled to disclose Jaxon’s feelings because he is a dear friend, very close to my heart, whom I would like very much to see happy. Jaxon has a condition of his own, which I’m not going to disclose, but it does put you and I at odds, you see. Jaxon wants a relationship with you, one that involves more than sex, but until the barriers the two of you have created come down, neither one of you will be able to take a step in a direction that will lead you both towards a communicable loving relationship.”
Communicable loving relationship? With Jaxon?
“I want to help Jaxon,” Don says, “but I can’t help either of you unless I know how you feel about him. It’s simple, Sue. Do you like him? Do you want to be with him?”
“I do.” I bite my lip.
“How much?”
“Bad.”
I hear a sigh of relief flow slowly out of Jaxon’s pursed lips.
Don is still tense. “How far are you willing to go for Jaxon or I should ask, how far are you willing to go to heal old wounds and, hopefully, build something meaningful? On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most aggressive treatment with the speediest results, how aggressive would you like to get in exploring treatment options to address your phobia?”
“Uh...hmm,” I stutter, looking over to Jaxon, who looks like he’s begging for a ten. I’d like to agree, but I figure I shouldn’t push it because Don, the doctor, admits he is more partial to Jaxon’s success in happiness than mine. “Nine.”
Both men chuckle and the tension I’ve felt since arriving at NIM dissipates.
“That’s perfect, Sue,” responds Don. “You’re perfect.” He reopens his folder to skim through his notes. “So! First things first. Kissing is not a trigger.”
What?! “It’s not? But I—”
Jaxon coughs.
“Excuse me, you should kiss Jaxon more,” Don rephrases. “You do have a trigger, but kissing is not it. You avoid kissing because you don’t want to be left with guilt knowing you’re not likely to advance physically with an individual beyond kissing, which, in truth, is a bit oxymoronic. Kissing is its own pleasure. No more guilty feelings with regards to kissing. If you enjoy it, by all means please kiss more.”
“Oh, okay.” I slouch. I like kissing and it’s shameful to think I haven’t been allowed to all this time.
“I will say, you do have triggers and some of them I believe are situational. It’s clear you have a phobia, but it’s not phallophobia.”
What?!
“You’re not afraid of what you’ve been led to believe.”
I huff. I’m not afraid of male organs? Is he serious?
“Then, what am I afraid of?”
“I’m not going to disclose that right now because I’d like to give you a chance to participate in an exercise with Jaxon and without any assumptions. I assume you are familiar with exposure therapy?”
I nod, reluctantly. Exposure therapy is supposedly the best therapy for phobias, which includes exposing a person to the source of their phobia at small doses initially then larger doses. It did NOT work for me.
Don stands up as Jaxon does. “Let’s move to the next room, shall we?”
Next room? I keep my butt seated. My chest constricts slightly. I’m not sure I’m ready to begin any exercises just yet. My belly is grumbling. My stomach acid feels like its eating away at the inner lining of my gut. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
Arms unexpectedly lift me out of the seat. “C’mon,” says Jaxon, carrying me. “I thought you said you wanted me bad.”
I’m clinging to Jaxon once again. He takes me down a short hall and plants me on my feet. I find myself gawking at contraptions and devices mounted to the walls of a room that looks like a modern dungeon, except there is a sofa and a bed. Holy fuck!
