The Culmination (43 page)

“Until I was ten or eleven. Until about a year after my mom and I finally got the hell out of Dodge.” She sighs loudly. “So, yeah,” she finally says. “Good times.”

“How is it possible I didn’t know this about you?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure at some point I’m gonna find out you secretly hate pistachios or had sex with a man and I’m gonna go, ‘Huh. Learn something new every day.’”

“Well, no. I love pistachios and I’ve never had sex with a man.”

“Well, still, I’m sure there’s something about you I don’t know.”

“So you, like, full-on wet your bed ’til you were eleven?”

“Well, not every single day. Whenever I had nightmares or got really, really scared, I just totally lost control of my bladder.”

“What happened?” I say, trying my damnedest to keep my voice calm and reassuring.

She shakes her head.

“Hey, I’m the guy who loves you, remember? You can tell me anything.” I flash her a reassuring smile.

“You sound like you’re coaxing a wild horse with a carrot so you can throw a saddle on her back.”

I smile. She’s got me pegged. That’s exactly what I’m doing. “Tell me, baby,” I say. “Let me throw a saddle on you.”

She shrugs. “It’s not that big a deal. There were just times when my father would scream or start getting all irate and I’d run and hide in the closet or under my bed and just... you know, pee myself—right down my leg and onto the floor—and then I’d be too scared to move so I’d just sit there in a puddle of pee for who knows how long. Sometimes, I’d have a nightmare and wet my bed. Nothing much to tell. I couldn’t control it. It just happened.”

“Jesus,” I say, a light bulb going off in my head. Suddenly, so much about Sarah makes perfect sense. “You know...” I begin. “I think this relates directly to your history of sexual dysfunction.”

She looks at me quizzically.

“You don’t see the connection?”

She shakes her head.

How does she not see what I see? “Just before you have an intense orgasm, it feels like you’re gonna pee, right?”

She nods.

“And the more intense the orgasm, the more intense that sensation?”

She purses her lips, considering.

“Well, duh, baby. For years you’ve associated that gotta-pee feeling with being absolutely terrified and doing something you were ashamed about. Before I came along to rock your world as only the Woman Wizard could, you’d become hardwired to pull back from that sensation. No wonder you couldn’t orgasm for so long. It was a royal mind-fuck.”

Her face is absolutely precious right now.

“You’ve been worried about wetting the bed your whole life. Literally.”

Her mouth hangs open. “Could it really be that literal?”

“Occam’s Razor, baby. The simplest answer is usually correct.”

She rocks in her glider chair silently for a long beat. “Holy moly,” she finally says. “I think you might be on to something here.”

“Of course, I am. I’m fucking brilliant. U Dub should give me an honorary doctorate in female psychology.”

“Holy Epiphany, Batman,” she says. “I actually think this might not be psychobabble.”

“Of course, it’s not psychobabble. It’s gold. Solid gold, baby—as golden as a golden shower brought to you by Sarah Cruz.”

She doesn’t want to laugh, but she does.

“This is a breakthrough, baby.”

“You might be right.”

“Of course, I am. If there’s one thing I’m always right about it’s hot girls with daddy issues.” I flash her a cocky grin.

“You woman wizard you.”

“At your service.”

I feel like I just unscrambled a fucking Rubik’s cube. Sarah’s been hardwired her whole life to hold
in
rather than push out.
Yes
. And now she craves letting go completely more than anything, obviously, but she literally doesn’t know how to do it for herself.
Yes.
That’s what Thailand was all about, I suddenly realize—her desperate desire to get out of her own fucking way and let go completely. Because she can’t let go by herself, she needs someone or something outside herself to take her there. She needs to feel dominated by a greater power so she can just submit and take herself out of the equation.
Jesus.
No wonder she’s been browsing bondage gear and dildos—she wants to be dominated in every sense, figuratively and literally.

My cock twitches.

I shift Luna in my arms and smile at Sarah.

“What are you thinking about?” Sarah says. “Your smile is pure evil.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

Sunny begins fussing and Sarah gives her a boob.

“How’s the fever?”

Sarah grabs the thermometer and puts it against Sunny’s forehead. She sighs with relief. “One-oh-one. Thank goodness. I think the fever broke.”

“Whew. Thank God.”

I get up and carefully lay Luna into her crib. She rustles, briefly, and then becomes still again.

I watch Sarah nursing Sunny for a long moment.

My baby yearns to be dragged to the top of the highest waterfall with no other way down and shoved off. Well, maybe it’s time for both of us to leave the past—and our childhood hang-ups—behind. Maybe it’s time for us to get into our time machine and step on the gas.

Chapter 42

Sarah

I throw open the glass doors leading out to the patio and gape over the side of the cliff at the sapphire-blue ocean yawning before me. “Incredible!” I yell. “Heaven!”

Jonas laughs behind my back.

I race back into the villa and twirl around like a little girl. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Shall I open the bottle for you, sir?” our personal butler asks Jonas, motioning to a bottle of champagne on ice. (Did I mention this place comes with a personal butler? Redonk!)

“No, I’ve got it,” Jonas says calmly. He offers the guy a bill.

“No, Mr. Faraday. My gratuity will be included at the end of your stay.”

I race past Jeeves into the bathroom and immediately marvel at the Jacuzzi tub. “Oooooh la la!” I call to Jonas, crawling into the empty tub. “Oh, Joooooooooonas. It’s a gooood one.”

Jonas ambles into the doorway of the bathroom and smiles at me, his T-shirt clinging tightly to his broad chest. Oh, his tattooed arms are bulging. His eyes are smoldering. His jaw is chiseled as ever. Good lord, the man is sex on a stick and hot as fuck. Holy hell, I’m ready to have some dirty fun that involves that man’s big ol’ penis poking me, any which way he pleases.

I hear the front door close.

“Did Jeeves just leave?”

Jonas nods.

“Woohoo! Let the games begin! So you wanna start things off with an underwater breath-holding contest?”

He doesn’t reply. His jaw muscles pulse.

“As you may recall, I’m currently the world-record holder in the sport.” I giggle. Holy crap. I’m feeling good. I had three rather large goblets of champagne during our flight to San Diego—our flight on a
private
plane, I should add—and I’m feeling abso-frickin-lutely fabulous.

Damn, that private jet was incredible. In addition to ever-flowing champagne, that nice flight attendant gave me a warm towellette and fuzzy booties and a lovely platter of sushi—and all of that for a measly two-hour flight. But, of course, the best part of the flight was getting
fucked
by my hunky-monkey husband at thirty thousand feet. Hellz yeah and booyah. My husband ate me out ’til I hummed louder than the jet engines and then plowed my field ’til the pilot turned on the seatbelt signs. And now I’m here in this spacious and swanky villa overlooking the sparkling blue ocean on a gloriously sunny day, feeling freaktastically relaxed and happy! Life cannot get any—

Wait.

Gloriously
sunny
day.

Sunny
.

My heart misses a beat.

Luna.

Maybe I should call home and check up on the girls?

Jonas crosses his arms over his chest and leans his shoulder against the doorjamb of the bathroom, and every goddamned muscle on his spectacular body flexes all at once.

Oh, pfft. I’m sure the girls are just fine.

I lean back in the empty tub alluringly, trying to beckon my sexy-as-sin husband to join me. But he’s clearly just going to keep standing there, oozing his fierce brand of homicidal charm. Okay. Fine. There are worse things in the world than sitting here staring at the divine original form of hotness.

I motion to the tub. “Are you not tempted, my sweet Jonas?”

Jonas looks like he’s gonna rip me limb from limb, but he doesn’t move, other than to absentmindedly touch the platinum bracelet around his wrist.

“Okay, well, you snooze, you lose,” I say. I crawl out of the empty tub and lope into the master suite.

Jonas follows me into the bedroom.

“Whaddaya wanna do first, hubsters?” I say, falling back onto the mammoth bed. “A little his and hers oral? Some back-door action, maybe?” I wink. “I know I’m hiding it well, but I’m actually kinda drunky-drunkerton, so this might be a great time to sneak in a little boom-boom in my boom-boom, if you know what I mean. Or maybe you wanna do that
Cirque Du Soleil
sixty-nine thing? We haven’t done that in a while.”

Jonas bites his lip, turns on his heel, and wordlessly heads into the bathroom again.

“Jonas?”

I hear the sound of water running in the bathtub. “Oh, so you want a little underwater Olympics, huh?” I call to him, leaping off the bed to join him. “Splendid idea, sir.”

When I enter the bathroom, Jonas is bent over, checking the temperature of the water, his bicep flexing as he runs his hand back and forth through the streaming water.

“Great idea,” I say. I begin unbuttoning my shirt.

“Wait,” Jonas says, straightening up.

I stop unbuttoning my shirt and look at him, perplexed.

“I want to explain the ground rules for the weekend first.”

I tilt my head like a cockatiel. Did I hear that right? “The...
ground rules
?” I say, smiling. Have I had
that
much champagne? I thought Jonas just said he was gonna “explain the ground rules for the weekend.” I laugh and start disrobing again.

“
Wait
,” he says, his voice commanding. “Stop undressing, please. I need to tell you how this weekend is gonna go, Sarah. And I want you to listen very closely.”

I freeze. “Huh?” The hairs on the nape of my neck stand up.

Jonas glides toward me like a panther, takes my hand, and pulls me to a cushioned stool in the corner of the large bathroom. “Sit.”

I obey. Why is my crotch suddenly pulsing?

“Hold on,” he says. He leaves the bathroom.

I touch my lower lip. It’s numb.

He returns. He’s got a black velvet box in his hand, which he places on the ledge of the tub. When his gaze returns to me, his eyes are burning like lasers. “Sarah, what’s the sole mission and purpose of the Jonas Faraday Club?”

I glance at the black velvet box. Sure looks like a jewelry box. Kinda hard to concentrate with a box like that sitting on a ledge a few feet away.

“Sarah?”

“Sorry. The supreme sexual satisfaction of one Sarah Cruz. Faraday,” I say.

“Correct. In summary,
sexcellence.
”

“Hellz yeah. And let me just say a big ol’—”

“Ssh.”

I shut my mouth.

“Over the years, this club’s deep and abiding commitment to its mission has never faltered, not in the slightest. In fact, I can honestly say the Club’s commitment to its sacred mission has only
intensified
over time. You might even say it’s morphed into something akin to a religious calling.” One side of his mouth curls up.

I bite my lip. Yummy. I sense some yummy is coming my way on a bullet train.

“Thanks to our club’s unwavering devotion to its mission, our sole member and reason for being, one Mrs. Sarah Cruz Faraday, has now experienced virtually every variation of
sexcellence
known to womankind. Except for one glaring exception. One towering peak she has not yet climbed and conquered.”

I can’t help but smirk. Oh, Jonas. This whole weekend is about getting me to squirt without him pressing the button for Ding Dongs? Really? Oh, why am I surprised? The man is a climber, through and through.

“But over the past year,” Jonas continues, “due to our club’s decision to create two teeny-tiny Faradays, we took a brief hiatus from our upward climb up this as yet unconquered peak of
sexcellence.
” His eyes darken. “But now it’s time to begin our climb anew, and with renewed vigor, my precious baby. It’s time to climb and conquer again.” His lips twist into a wicked grin. “This weekend, we’re going to climb the highest peak of all:
fuck-sellence.
”

“Oh,” I say, a sudden pulsing announcing itself inside my panties.

“Do you remember the singular rule of the Jonas Faraday Club, my precious baby?”

I swallow hard and nod.

“Say it, please.”

“You’re in charge,” I breathe.

Oh my God. I’ve got goose bumps. And a lady-boner. Yes, yes, yes, yes. This is gonna be good.

“And why am I in charge, Sarah?”

“Because you’re the only one in the entire world who knows how to make me howl like a monkey, weep like a guitar, squawk like a seagull.” I laugh at that last one—I don’t know where that came from. I funny. I slap my cheek, forcing myself to stop acting like a dork. “Because you know how to bring me to the light outside the cave, Jonas P. Faraday, oh lord-god-master,” I say reverently. “Because. You. Are.
God
.”

“That’s exactly right. Good girl.”

I shift in my seat. My mouth is dry. Hot damn, this is gonna be good.

He bends down and turns off the faucet on the tub. “Are you ready to climb and conquer the epic and towering peak of
fucksellence
, my precious baby?”

I nod like a bobblehead doll. “I sure am, my sweet Jonas. Hellz yeah.”

He glides over to me and my skin bursts into flames at his mere proximity.

He cups my face in his hands. “Nothing worth having comes easy,” he says. “The path to greatness comes with great sacrifice. To conquer it
,
we must carve new pathways inside ourselves—forge new wiring inside our brains. In summary, we must try something new and untested. Do you understand?”