Intimate (17 page)

“There was very
nearly irreparable damage, so you might rethink your meddling in the future.”

“Excellent. That
means you managed to work things out. Is she naked in your bed right now? Is
that why you’re being so close-mouthed about this?”

“You would do
well not to mention Marissa and nudity in the same sentence again.”

“So she’s not
in your bed. Sorry to hear it. It sounds like the enforced abstinence is trying
your patience. But you know what they say—all good things come…”

A stream of
profanity interrupted his ironic, sanctimonious platitude.

“All right. I
won’t say it. Have you had any more thoughts about the jazz band?”

“I’m still
considering it. I’m under contract for three more months with the orchestra, so
I couldn’t do anything until then anyway.”

“Are you
seriously considering it? Because, if it’s just a fleeting thought, I’d rather
know now so I can make other plans.”

“I’m seriously
considering it.”

“What does
Marissa think?”

Caleb was
silent for a stretch of time. Then, “I haven’t mentioned it to her.”

 “Are you sure
about that? I can tell you’re serious about this woman, and keeping something
so important to your career from her could be a real problem. It doesn’t sound
like a good idea to me.”

Caleb closed
his eyes and felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest.

He’d never told
her things like this—he’d always automatically lied about anything that might
worry or disappoint her. If he told her the truth about this now, it would turn
into a big thing. She would be upset about his giving up on the orchestra and the
stable life she wanted him to build, and he would have to try to explain
something that wasn’t even clear in his mind.

He’d also lose
the escape route that was, right now, the only thing keeping him free.

He hadn’t
transformed into a different person overnight, and he needed something that was
his alone.

“I’m sure.”

After another
long silence, James said at last, “All right. Who am I to talk, anyway? I’ve
made nothing but a mess of my relationships.”

*
* *

“Do you have anything
chocolate?” Marissa asked, as soon as she arrived at his apartment that
evening.

“Hello to you
too.”

“Wow, you’re
extra-sensitive today.” She was looking particularly lush and curvy this
evening, in jeans and a clingy red top that showed a lot of cleavage. “You were
sulky on the phone this morning too. Just because I already had dinner plans
with friends this evening.”

“I was not
sulky. And it’s just common courtesy to say hello before one demands chocolate.”

“So says the
man who is completely oblivious to my presence if I happen to arrive while he’s
playing the cello.”

“How was dinner?”
he asked, following her into his kitchen.

“Good. I ate
too much.” She opened his freezer and released a squeal of joy. “I love you. I
love you. I love you!”

Unfortunately, Caleb
was pretty sure that she wasn’t declaring her love for
him
—rather, her
love for the pint of double-chocolate ice cream she’d just confiscated from his
freezer.

“I thought you said
you ate too much,” he said, as she scrounged for two spoons and a couple of
napkins.

She looked at
him like he was crazy. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Apparently
nothing.” He tried to hide a smile.

She narrowed
her eyes suspiciously but didn’t respond. Just headed for the couch.

Handing him a
spoon, she grinned. “Do you want any? I’m willing to share.”

“Your
generosity with my food is astounding,” he murmured, scooting closer to her and
taking the offered spoon.

They ate in
pleasant quiet, only occasionally making random comments. Caleb did his best to
concentrate on the ice cream and not on the way Marissa’s lips slid across her
spoon. Or the way her tongue darted out to lick its way around her mouth.

She released a
deep, contented sigh after they fought over who would scrape the last traces of
ice cream off the bottom of the carton. “What better way to end the day?”

Caleb could
think of a better way. It involved the two of them in his bed without any
clothes between them.

Needless to
say, he didn’t offer this suggestion.

She reclined
back against a thick cushion and smiled at him sweetly. “Are
you
doing
all right, Caleb?”

He was
momentarily distracted by the way her breasts rose and fell, but he made
himself focus on her flushed, happy face. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.
I had such a good time last night, and I’m so excited about this…this new thing
now. But I was thinking maybe it’s a little too junior-high for you.”

He blinked.

“I mean, we
went on a date and then kissed and said good-night. I don’t think that’s the
way your dates normally end.”

She was right.
He’d never had a date like that in his life. Either he didn’t even bother to
kiss the woman, or they went much farther than kissing. He shouldn’t be
surprised that she’d read how he’d been feeling so easily. She knew him better
than anyone else.

He tried not to
remember his dream last night. Tried not to visualize making love to her
against a wall.

“It’s not,” he
said at last. “But I didn’t expect this to be the same. This is like nothing
I’ve done before. You’re not like any woman I’ve dated in the past.” He felt
kind of stupid and sappy saying the words, but when he saw her expression
transform, he was glad he’d said them.

“Really? You’re
not just saying that because we’re friends? Because, if anything more develops
between us, it’s going to be serious for me. And if I thought you just wanted
to get me into bed…”

He
did
want to get her into bed. But, God help him, he wanted so much more.

And he realized
that Marissa wasn’t as at ease with everything as she’d seemed to be today.

She needed to
hear him say some things.

So he forced
down his reluctance and began, “I
am
saying this because we’re friends,
but not for the reasons you think. If we hadn’t been friends to begin with,
then this thing between us wouldn’t be as deep. I’ve been an asshole with women
most of my life—you know this as well as I do. But this is different.
You’re
different. I want you, Marissa—all of you, not just your body—and so I’m
willing to wait until you’re ready to take things further.”

He cringed as
he heard his declaration. Prayed she wouldn’t laugh in his face for being
overly sentimental.

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.”

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 for 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 across 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.

***