Better Than None (14 page)

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Authors: Olivia Jake

BOOK: Better Than None
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“So what do we do?”

He picked up the menu, “Well, we could order some food. I hear that’s
part of the whole dating experience.”

I opened the menu and stared at it. I must have read the same thing
over and over and over again and I couldn’t have said what was on there if my
life depended on it. When he asked me what I was going to have I just looked
blankly at him, but for whatever reason, I was comfortable admitting my
discomfort with him.

“I have no idea.”

“Well, what are you considering?”

“No, I mean, I haven’t been able to focus on it. Sorry. I just keep
replaying things we’ve said over and over. I have no idea what’s even on the menu.”

“Steph, relax.”

“I’m trying. Honest.”

He nodded. “How about I just order for the both of us. I think I’ve had
pretty much everything on the menu. I know what’s good.”

“Thank you.” I said softly and looked out the window as he ordered. I
heard his voice against the soft din of the restaurant, but I wasn’t listening.
I just stared out at the twinkly lights trying to get back to some state of
calm.

“Stephanie?”

I turned back to him. He was trying. Hard. There hadn’t been one moment
that I had the urge to call him a jerk or prick or jackass, which was a first.
Granted, if the bar was that low, he didn’t have to do much to impress me.

“Why are you still so nervous?”

“I know it makes no sense. I’ve really never been out to dinner with a
man. I’ve never been on a date. I’ve never had to make conversation like this
and it just scares the hell out of me.”

He furrowed his brows. I didn’t expect him to understand when even I
didn’t.

“But I know you’re trying.” I said and he smiled.

“You noticed?”

“I was just thinking I haven’t had the urge to call you names. Not
once.”

He laughed. “I think that was another one of your back-handed
compliments, so thank you?”

“You must think I’m a basket case.”

He thought for a moment and then the corners of his mouth turned up into
a sweet smile. I was wrong. Sybil had nothing on him. “No. I think you’re
honest. And beautiful. And going through a horrible, terrifying time with your
mother. I don’t think you’re a basket case at all.” He let that sink in and
added, “As for what you think about me, well, I think I know. You’ve told me as
much.”

“My opinion’s ever-changing.”

“For the better I hope?”

I nodded and just then, our appetizers arrived.

“Ok, the tuna tartar is amazing, but I ordered scallops as one of the
entrées. I also love the burrata.” He pointed to the large hunk of mozzarella
on the table.

“What’s the other entrée?”

“Filet with peppercorn sauce.”

I licked my lips and he chuckled.

“It’s all good, whichever you choose.”

I felt like I was somehow betraying Marty when I suggested we split
everything.

“I like that.”

We both dug in and as soon as I had a bite of the burrata I moaned. “Oh
my God, this is so good!”

He grinned. “Told ya.”

The food calmed my nerves and gave us something to do when there was an
awkward pause.

“So, are you from here?” Brad asked.

I nodded. “Born and raised.”

“Wow, an LA native. I thought they were only rumored to exist.” He
teased.

“You mean like Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster?” I feigned being
insulted.

“Exactly.”

I giggled.

“Have you ever lived anywhere else?”

“I went to Berkeley for my first year of school, but it was too hard on
my mom.” I paused and smiled a bit, collecting my thoughts, remembering back
twenty years prior. “In the ten months I was up there, I think she came up five
or six times, and I came down about the same. Oy, and you should have seen the
phone bills!”

“So you came back down for her?”

I shook my head and shrugged. “Maybe a little. But I think I came back
for both of us. I didn’t really like it up there all that much, and I missed
her terribly. So I transferred to UCLA. We were both a lot happier once I was
back.” I paused and shrugged again. “It was just… right.”

He nodded, though I doubt he understood the close bond that Barb and I
had. Few people did.

“And, you?” I asked, but his mouth was full.

“Minnesota.” He eked out, while he finished chewing.

“A Jew from the Mid-West? I thought they were only rumored to exist!”
We both laughed at that. Then I got quiet for a second, thinking back to
something Barb used to say.

“You okay?” He asked.

I nodded. “My mom always said the best men were the ones who were
raised in the Mid-West, but then went to the ‘big city’.” I used air quotes
while Brad waited for me to explain. “She said that they were raised with good,
solid values, but that they had ambition and drive too.”

“She knows Chicago’s in the Mid-West, right? I think it qualifies as a
big city.” He teased, allaying my fears that I’d intimated he was the type of
man my mom would want for me.

This time my mouth was full, so I just nodded. It was odd talking about
my mom with him. He knew her as a patient, and I almost felt like I was
overstepping by sharing about her as a person. It wasn’t as if I was revealing
anything untoward, it was just all uncharted water for me. It was one of many
new routes for me to navigate.

Every now and then the conversation would stall or drift into dangerous
territory and one of us would steer it back to safer ground. When the waiter
offered dessert, I told him I was stuffed and declined. “I think that’s more
than I’ve eaten in the last two months combined.”

“Well, Ms. Lawson, congratulations. You have successfully completed
your very first dinner date.”

I laughed and blushed a bit. “Thank you. It only took me 37 years.”

“Some people just march to the beat of a different drummer.”

“I’m guessing that’s true for you as well.”

He nodded. “Some mistake that for me being a jerk.” He teased.

“No offense, Brad, but it’s not such a fine line between being a jerk
and being different.”

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, “I guess I was just testing
to see if you’d buy that, or if you’d still call me on my shit.”

“You said you liked it when I did. With a ringing endorsement like
that, I’m not going to stop now!”

He smiled, folded his napkin and put it on the table making it clear we
were finished and leaving. “So, do you think you’ll be this nervous on our
second date?”

“You’re already thinking about our second date?” I felt like Sally
Field, ‘he likes me, he really likes me.’ I just hope I didn’t show it. Before
he could answer I stopped. “Wait, is this one over?” 

He stood and held out his hand. “No, Stephanie. This one’s not over. I
told you what I wanted to do after dinner.”

Even though we had already been together, just hearing him say those
words made me tingle. Whatever it was, this man had an effect on me. He made me
want him more than I’d ever wanted anyone. He made me want sex for the pleasure
of it, not as a point to prove. I’m not sure I could even say what the point
was that I thought I was proving anymore. If there ever even was one, I’m sure
it was lost on the myriad guys over the years. No matter. That was in the past.
And Brad was in the present. Who would have thunk it?

I took his hand as I got up and once again walked hand in hand with
him, through the restaurant and hotel lobby to the elevators. This time though,
once inside, he pulled me to him and kissed me passionately for the entire
ride. When our floor dinged and we separated he panted, “I’ve been wanting to
do that since you walked in the restaurant.”

Once inside his room he didn’t waste any time. We’d done our talking.
We had only been together a few times, but I was starting to get used to
certain things. Not in an apathetic way but with anticipation. His taste, his
smell, the way he kissed me and bit my lips and my neck. I never realized that
knowing someone could make it better. I certainly didn’t know him, know him,
but there were little things I was already figuring out that he liked. And I
must have had my tells too, because it seemed he had a roadmap to every
sensitive spot with each nuanced touch or caress. He wanted to please me. We
wanted to please each other. I was starting to realize what most normal adults
already knew. It was better if there were actual feelings involved, feelings
that weren’t just spite and anger, that is.

It was odd that this man who could be so cold so clearly wanted to
pleasure me, but it was obvious that he did.

Yet as good as everything felt, I couldn’t let my mind go this time.
All those years of conditioning couldn’t just disappear in a couple months. He
kept taking me to the precipice but I couldn’t fall over. I kept building and
building and it felt so good, but so frustrating. Perhaps it was because I had
shared more about me during dinner, that somehow I was limited in how much I
gave to him, maybe that’s why I couldn’t get there. I had already exposed so
much more of myself to him. Or maybe it wasn’t anything nearly that logical.
Regardless, I vowed that I wouldn’t fake it with him. I didn’t want to do that
anymore. I just couldn’t help but feel like I was disappointing him.

“Steph, relax baby.” He whispered as he brushed my hair off my face and
kissed me while he slowed his tempo.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, I just want to make you feel good.”

“You do, believe me. I, I just can’t get there. I keep feeling like I’m
going to but then it goes away.”

He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth and played with it,
making me moan. He nipped and bit and licked until I was writhing and then
switched sides all the while sliding in and out. I could feel myself building
again but I knew I wasn’t going t get there. He released my breast and looked
down at me.

“Would you play with yourself for me?”

I blushed and closed my eyes. We’d done all kinds of things, but the
thought of that seemed so intimate, so personal. I hesitated and he must have
seen the trepidation on my face.

“Please. I want to watch you make yourself come. I want to stroke
myself while I watch you.”

I smiled a little when I heard that, and that must have been his
go-ahead. He pulled out of me, rolled the condom off and started stroking
himself as he kneeled over me. I never knew how much of a turn on that could
be, but just watching him emboldened me. I licked my middle finger, reached
down and started rubbing myself as I watched him continue to slide his hand up
and down his shaft. Watching him helped me get over my initial hesitation and I
was soon mesmerized. Seeing him pleasure himself was so erotic but when I
looked up at his face, the intensity with which he was looking down on me
scared me, so I went back to watching his hand.

He looked so damn sexy doing that, that it didn’t take long for me to
feel my orgasm rising and rising until I felt the tingling spread all over me
as my eyes rolled in the back of my head and slowly shut before I bucked, my
chest lifting off the mattress as I softly moaned and came. When I opened my
eyes he was smiling devilishly down on me and then he started moaning as he
jacked himself off, coming all over my stomach and chest. I’d never seen a man
do that and watching him lose control, watching it splatter all over me was one
of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I dared to raise my eyes back up and look
at his, and his expression matched what I was feeling. He still looked so
intense, but there was also fear of just how intimate that was. He held my gaze
and then looked down at the mess he’d made on me. Upon seeing that he smiled
like a little boy and then collapsed next to me.

We both lay there for a bit in silence as our breathing steadied, then
he turned to me and smiled lazily.

“Thank you.”

I furrowed my brows, unclear exactly what he was thanking me for and he
turned more serious. “For being patient and honest.”

I still wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me, still covered in
his fluid and he smiled again. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” I could
feel myself blushing. “You’re beautiful, but with my come all over you… and
watching you play with yourself, Jesus Steph, that was amazing.”

“Ditto.” I said sheepishly, still embarrassed. I felt so exposed having
done what we just did.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” I couldn’t tell if I heard annoyance or
simple interest.

I shrugged. It made no sense. I was lying there naked yet I was
embarrassed and talking about it just made it worse. “Look, I should go.”

“Are you kidding me?” Any tenderness was gone, not that I could blame
him.

“I don’t expect you to understand…”

“Try me.” He was pissed.

I sat up and turned away from him. It wasn’t his fault that I was the
way I was.

“Seriously? You’re just going to turn your back on me after what we
just did together?”

I didn’t turn around. I talked to the wall. “I told you, I don’t expect
you to understand…”

“You’re right. I can’t possibly understand if you don’t talk to me. If
you literally turn your back on me.”

I turned around and saw so much anger on his face, it made leaving
easier. But it wasn’t just anger. He was hurt. And if the situation were
reversed, I’d have been as well. He didn’t deserve my cold shoulder. He’d done
nothing wrong, so I tried to help him understand. “Brad, you were married for
how long?”

He obviously didn’t know where this was going but he shared anyway.
“Almost 20 years.” He said softly.

“However it ended, you were used to being intimate with someone. You’ve
had years of practice. I haven’t.” I paused. I think because I knew how much of
a dick he could be, it was easier for me to be brutally honest with him. “I
tried to tell you, I’ve never done this before. I’m not comfortable with it.
Any of it. I’m trying. You have no idea how hard I’m trying not to be who I’ve
been my entire life. But I’m not going to change overnight. Fuck, I don’t even
know if I really can change.” I looked down and paused as I felt the tears
start welling up. It didn’t matter. I’d already screwed it up. I’d already
pushed him away. Crying wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

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