When Joss Met Matt (16 page)

My eyes slipped shut as we found our rhythm. His hands never seemed to rest and the constant flood of sensory input had me panting for air in no time. I forced my eyes open and looked down at T.J. who was staring at me with intent.

“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

He shook his head and grunted “Just watching you.”

Pleasure ebbed and flowed through my body as T.J. tried several different paces. He just couldn't seem to find one he liked. I stopped trying to help and let him take complete control. I could see frustration in his eyes.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

I was coming out of the pleasure haze as I watched him. The concentration was obvious. Sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“Is there something …?” I trailed off, not sure if I should end with “wrong,” or “I can do.”

He slowed to a crawl and looked up in my eyes. “I'm sorry, I … I'm having a little trouble.”

Not words a girl wants to hear. “Do you need to change positions or something?” I asked.

“Um, yeah, maybe.”

I slid away and waited for him to make a decision.

He appeared to be considering options, shifting his weight and looking very serious. “Could you, uh … do something for me?”

My pulse ratcheted up a notch. The question felt … loaded. “What?”

“Okay, this might sound kind of weird …”

Oh God.

“But, uh … sometimes when I'm … having trouble … it helps if you use your hands.”

Phew.
“What would you like?” I asked, tucking my legs under me to lean forward.

“Here …” He guided my hands to his erection, still in the condom.

“Um …” I kept a loose grip and did my best to help him get closer to the big moment.

“Can you squeeze a little tighter?”

I didn't answer, but tried.

“A little harder …”

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but I followed his instruction.

“A little harder …”

My arms strained with effort. I wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. “I'm sorry, my arms are getting tired,” I said when the rhythm faltered.

T.J.'s eyes opened, but he didn't look at me. “Then, can you just hit it?”

What?
“What?”

“Hit it.”

I shook my head. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Sometimes it helps. Hit me. Really hard.”

“Excuse me?” I could feel the weird look I had on my face.

“Just … you know, punch me.”

“What are you talking about? Where?”

“Right here.” He pointed at his crotch.

“What?!” I pulled my hands back, curling them tightly against my chest.

“It really helps me. You could use your knee if you want.”

“N—no … no …” I shook my head. “No, I'm not gonna do that. No.”

“I know it's a little weird …” he said.

“It's a lot weird!” I scooted backward on the bed. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I looked for my clothes.

“It's actually not that uncommon …”

“I've never heard of it,” I said.

“It's no worse than people who like biting.”

“Ha!” I slid on my bra so fast one of the straps twisted.

“Jocelyn, I'm sorry. Don't leave like this …”

“No, really, it's okay. I'm just gonna go.”

“I didn't want to say anything. It's just something I need to get excited sometimes. I know it's weird.”

I shook my head as I reached back to hook my bra. “I don't think you do. I gotta go.”

“Dammit,” he muttered, getting out of bed himself. “Well, then, can we just forget what I said?”

“No.” I yanked my shirt on and shoved my feet in my shoes. “No, we really can't.”

T.J. sighed. “Well, could I call you again?”

That stopped me in my tracks. I looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, then?”

“Please don't.”

He called my name as I hurried down the hall, looking for my coat. I ignored him, and snatched up my coat and purse. I didn't even bother putting it on, just ran out the door and to my car, frantically thumbing the UNLOCK button on my key fob.

Chapter Nineteen

Two Years Earlier … Second Year Out of College

I had Nellie on the phone before I even had my seat belt on. “I hate dating, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!” I shouted at her.

“What happened?” she drawled, her words dripping with reluctant tolerance.

“You are never going to believe this one.” All of my body nerves buzzed with adrenaline. To think that he'd touched me—I shuddered.

“Try me,” she said.

I told her what T.J. had asked me to do and had to hold the phone away from my ear when she shrieked, “WHAT?!”

“I know! The
first
time he asks me to punch him in the fucking balls? What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“Oh my God, I've never heard anything like that!”

“I know! He's some kind of pervert or something.”

“Hang on, I have to tell Jason—”

I tried to stop her. “No! Don't tell Jason! My God!” But it was too late. I could hear her murmuring in the background.

“Nellie!” I shouted, trying to get her attention.

“Jason said he saw something about that online once. He said some guys can't get off without it.”

“Oh my God! How the hell do you even think of that?!” I demanded. “Who decides to try out getting punched in the balls?”

“I know!”

“God, what a twisted bastard! I just—ugh!”

“No kidding.”

“I want to take a shower. I want to take twenty showers!” I shuddered again, making my car wiggle in the lane as I sped away from the scene of the perversion.

“I don't blame you! That is so weird.”

“I'm never dating again.”

“Well, maybe if you work it into conversation real early on, you could screen out the weird ones.”

“How the hell am I supposed to work that into conversation?” I demanded. I visualized myself sitting at dinner with a first date. “Mmm, this pâté is delicious! By the way, do you require physical violence against your genitals to get aroused?”

Nellie burst into laughter. “There, see? Totally natural!”

“I am not doing that!”

“You didn't actually do it, did you?” she asked. “Punch him, I mean.”

“No! Of course I didn't! What do you take me for? I just got dressed and ran out of the house.”

“You got up and left in the middle of everything?” she asked.

“Yes! What did you think I was gonna do?”

Nellie snickered. “So, poor ol' T.J. is all alone with no one to punch him in the balls …”

“For all I know he could be slamming them in a drawer this very second. I don't know and I don't care!”

She started laughing even harder. “Oh my God, can you imagine …?”

“I don't want to.” I glanced in the side mirror as if I could see T.J. back there.

“Where are you now?” she asked.

“In my car. I'm going home.”

“Ooh! Jason just pulled up a website about this!”

“Oh Jesus. I gotta go,” I told her.

“Come on, it's funny!”

“It might be funny after my twentieth shower. I'll let you know.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I'll talk to you later, Nell.”

“Bye, Joss.”

We disconnected and I decided to call Matt. When he answered the phone, I could hear voices in the background.

“Hey, Joss. What's going on?”

“Where are you?”

“Home. I've got a few guys over to play
Call of Duty
.”

“Oh. Sorry, I'll let you go.”

“No, that's okay. We just took a break. I've got a couple minutes.”

“I was just on the worst date in the history of the world.”

“With T.J.? I thought you liked him.”

“I did. But then he got weird.”

“How so?”

I repeated the story and earned a bellow of laughter from Matt.

“No fucking way!” he exclaimed. “Man, I always thought that was just made up.”

“You've heard of this?”

“Yeah, but … I've never heard of anyone actually doing it.”

“I didn't do it!” I protested.

“Yeah, I know that.” He paused and I could imagine the eye roll. “Man, that was a ballsy move.”

“No pun intended?”

“No, that was totally intentional.”

“Great.”

“Seriously, though … I almost have to admire him.” His voice was painted with laughter.

I made an “ew!” face even though he couldn't see it. “Why?”

“You gotta have some big brass ones to whip that out the first time you sleep with someone.”

“Or a serious lack of brain cells.”

“Hey, listen, are you gonna be okay? They want me back in the game.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just gonna go home and shower twenty-seven times.”

“Make sure you don't scrub your skin off.”

I hesitated for a moment. “Um, how long are the guys gonna be there?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Just … curious.”

“I'm around tomorrow. If you need something. If you need me.”

Nellie spent the rest of that night and most of the following day sending me definitions of different kinds of fetishes. She accompanied each message with the words,
See? It could have been worse!
I could just imagine her cackling wildly over her own joke. Each time, I replied with something along the lines of,
I hate you and you are the worst friend in the world.

A small selection of the things Nellie came up with:

The last one was accompanied with the note, I guess T.J.'s not alone!

I had dinner with my family the following night and I studiously avoided all discussion of my love life. Conveniently, my sister, Darcy, had big news—one of her dogs was going to have puppies. The way she was going on about it, I would have thought she was pregnant. I love her, but she's a little nuts.

Nevertheless, impending puppydom gave me plenty of time inside my own head. There, a sham debate was under way—should I call on Matt after last night, or go at it alone? I knew I wanted to call him. I even knew I would. But for reasons I couldn't articulate, I needed to spend a little time coming up with reasons why I might not. After a salad course, the main course, and dessert, my list was this:

The second one was the problem. I wanted Matt. I'd been on my self-imposed dating hiatus for too long, I guess. Three dates with T.J. had reminded me of what I loved about dating, and then smashed it all flat with his shocking request. I wanted so badly to feel the way I'd felt earlier in the date. And I knew I'd get just that with Matt. The problem was he was only one night. I wanted a more permanent solution. I knew I should be a big girl and turn down a temporary, if certain, dose of gratification. But on the other hand …

As soon as I had finished helping my mom with the dishes, I excused myself, explaining that I had plans with Matt.

“You should have brought him to dinner,” my mom said.

“He had plans already.” This was a bald-faced lie. I had no idea what Matt was doing for dinner. But it was hard to imagine bringing him to my parents' house for a family meal before we headed back to my place to have sex.

“Too bad. Invite him next week if you want.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I phoned Matt when I left, and he was already at my apartment complex by the time I got home.

“That was fast!” I said when he got out of his car.

“Maybe you were just slow.” The tip of his nose was cold when he kissed me in greeting.

“Come on, let's go inside.”

He followed me into the building without saying much. I let us into my apartment, and before he could even get his coat off, Dewey was weaving around his ankles and purring.

“Yes, Dewey, I've missed you, too,” he said in all insincerity.

“Mrow.”

“You might as well pet him now, you know he's not going to leave you alone until you do.”

Matt sighed, but hunkered down to scratch behind the cat's ears. “There, are you happy, you big hairball?”

Dewey flopped on his back and stretched, purring happily.

“I swear, you should just take him with you when you go. When you're around it's like I don't even exist.” I hung our jackets in the closet and tossed my bag onto the table.

“No pets allowed in my apartment,” he informed Dewey. “We've been over this.”

“He thinks you should move somewhere else, then.”

“Sorry, cat. No deal.” He straightened up and stepped on the backs of his shoes to remove them.

“Did you eat dinner?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks.”

“My mom said I should have invited you. Sorry.” I retrieved my cell phone from my bag and tucked it in my back pocket.

He squinted at me. “That would have been kind of weird.”

“That's what I thought. She said you should come next week.”

“Maybe I will.”

“And that won't be weird?” I asked, pausing with one hand on the light switch for the living room.

“For some reason … no.”

“Something in the rules I'm not aware of?” I teased.

“Yeah, ‘Never dine with your Sorbet partner's parents on the day of Sorbet.' ”

I laughed. “What number would that be?”

“Hmm …” He looked thoughtful. “Who knows? Don't you have the rules?”

“Do I?”

“I think so …”

“I bet it's in that box of crap from college in my office …”

“Your office.” Matt snorted. He found my name for my spare room amusing. The apartment was technically a one-bedroom, with a “bonus room,” little more than a glorified closet. I certainly didn't do any work in there, but I had my desk and a filing cabinet in it, so as far as I was concerned, it was an office.

“Shut up.” I went into the so-called office and pulled a plaid banker's box from the corner. It was full of odds and ends from college, including—as it turned out—the computer printout of my last semester class schedule, some cardboard Blue Moon beer coasters, and a picture of me and Jessie with our faces painted red and white for a football game.

Matt hunkered down behind me, covering my shoulder with one of his hands for balance. When I came across a picture from freshman year of all of the girls on Halloween, he leaned forward for a better look.

“Hmm, I remember that costume …”

I smiled and tilted my head against his. “Yeah, me, too.”

The picture slipped from my fingers. I let it go and picked through interlaced stacks of papers, pictures, pamphlets, magazine clippings, half-finished crosswords, and an expired prescription for codeine cough syrup.

“Why the hell are you keeping this stuff?” he asked, extracting another water-stained coaster from The Pub.

“I don't know.” I shrugged, and Matt swept my hair around to my right shoulder to get the clingy curls away from his face.

“Aha!” I produced the
Rules for Sorbet Sex
with triumph. “Rule twelve.”

“Twelve it is,” he agreed, plucking the paper from my hand. “Where's a pen?”

“There's probably one in here …” I rummaged in the bottom of the box and came up with a red pen.

“Give it here.”

“No way, you wrote the last three rules.” I took the paper back and bent down to write on the floor.

“Hey! You totally snuck that last one in!” Matt protested, taking the worn list from me.

“No way, I brokered that deal from you last time.”

“But now it's in writing.” He sank to sit, one knee still raised behind me.

“Exactly.” I grinned at him and tapped the pen on the tip of his nose.

He snatched the pen and leaned on one elbow to add another rule.

I burst into laughter when I saw the addition. “That should just be a rule in general. Like, for life. It should be posted on signs in public places. Like ‘No Smoking.' ”

“What do you suppose the little signs would look like?” We grinned at each other.

I let the rules fall into their familiar fold-lines and handed the small square to Matt. “Here. You can study up on rule fifteen—make sure you understand it.”

“I'll do that.” He leaned over to tuck the paper into the pocket of his jeans. When he straightened up, we nearly knocked our heads together. He laughed and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“You know what makes me so mad?” I said when he pulled back.

“What?”

“He officially ruined my favorite make-out move of all time.”

“Who, T.J.? What are you talking about?”

“This—” I demonstrated the hand-on-the-jaw move that T.J. had earned so many points with the night before. “I used to love that. Now … everything he did just feels … gross. Dirty … I don't know.” I sighed.

“We'll fix it all,” Matt promised, moving his hands to cradle my face and kissing me softly. I edged closer, and pressed my fingers into the tight muscles at the crest of his shoulder. “What else?” he murmured against my mouth as I tried to continue the kiss.

“He … touched me … and kissed me … all over.”

“Okay …” Matt's hands left my face, drifted over my shoulders, and down to the edge of my sweater. He lifted it slowly, knuckles grazing against my skin until I had to lift my arms to let him pull it free. Goose bumps followed in the wake of his fingers and I couldn't help a shiver.