“Oh man.” He sighed, dropping his head to his hands. Seconds ticked by as his back moved up and down with long, smooth inhalations and exhalations. His hands fell to his sides as he lifted his chin. “I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about this for a while now because I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
“You didn’t,” I said, fighting back a wave of tears. “It’s fine.”
Somehow, I felt bad that he felt bad. Which only compounded my overall distress. A complicated mix of shame, sadness, regret, and fear swirled within me.
And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of relief.
“James.” Chase angled himself to face me. He took my hands in his, which were warm, slightly callused, and comforting. “I’m not judging you. I promise.”
I looked at our hands, avoiding his eyes. “You should be.”
“Trust me, you’re not the one I’m judging in this situation.”
“I honestly want to die right now,” I said, shaking my head as I stared at the textured gray comforter. “I can’t overstate that enough. No one knows that. I can’t believe I told you.”
“No, I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to feel like you need to fake anything with me.” He leaned closer, brushing a stray piece of hair out of my face. “If something I’m doing isn’t working, I’d rather know. That’s why I wanted to talk about this.”
“To talk about how I’m broken, you mean?”
“You’re not broken,” he said softly. “Lots of girls can’t come from penetration alone. It’s pretty common. Normal.”
In theory, I knew this. The internet and women’s magazines said as much. But it didn’t make me feel less inadequate, like I was faulty—or like certain parts of me were, at least.
Chase scanned my face, dark eyes patient as he waited for a response.
I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged. “Okay.”
“It could be what the other person was doing.” He raised his eyebrows, speaking carefully. “Or not doing…Or not doing properly.”
“I don’t know.” As much as I liked the idea of throwing Luke under the bus, I was pretty sure there was something wrong with me. I drew in a breath and held it until my lungs felt like they were going to explode. “It’s just really hard to get me off.”
“I’m up for the challenge.” He grinned. “Literally.”
A sad half laugh escaped from the back of my throat. He was too smooth for my own good. Even when I felt like hiding under a rock permanently.
“I mean, I can…” I fumbled, searching my brain for a way to explain without delving into uncomfortable details. “I’m sorry. This is hard to talk about without bringing Luke into it.” Luke would sulk afterward if I didn’t have an orgasm—as if that was going to somehow help it along. Though the fact that I faked it so often had some disturbing implications. Either Luke never noticed or, worse still, he knew and didn’t care.
“It’s okay,” Chase said. “You can talk about him.”
“He would complain because only certain positions would do it for me, or I took too long. Sometimes it was easier to let him think I had.” And now I’d shared the most intimate details of my former relationship with Chase, things even Zara and Noelle weren’t privy to. Great.
“He did what?” His brows snapped together. “What kind of sorry excuse for an athlete is he? Fucking dick.” His jaw ticked, and he exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “Sorry. It just pisses me off to know you were treated like that.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s a me problem.” It had to be when it was that elusive and difficult to reach. There were maybe two things that worked—some of the time—and that was it. Even then, it was about as reliable as a rain dance.
“Not even a little.” He smoothed my hair away from my face.
I sucked in a shaky breath. “Agree to disagree.”
“Not on this one. Morrison is a fucking idiot. Full stop. It’s the eleventh commandment.”
This time, I laughed for real. He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. The tension in my body loosened as I returned the kiss, lips opening against his. He pushed inside my mouth, but it was tender, gentle. As we pulled apart, he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“You’re not a means to an end, James.”
The urge to cry returned, and I swallowed hard, nodding wordlessly.
Chase tipped forward, his lips grazing along the curve of my neck, which was a welcome distraction.
“Plus, the idea of getting you off is so fucking hot,” he murmured.
“Really?” It was hard to wrap my mind around that. Sex had always seemed like it was more about pleasing the guy.
“Hell yeah.” His gaze met mine, and he bit his bottom lip, nodding. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about that?”
“No idea.”
“A lot.” Chase’s eyes danced.
“Ah, so you do have a dirty mind.”
“Dirty for you.”
I laughed and shook my head.
He picked me up and moved both of us back until we were propped against the headboard . “Can we talk about this a little more? Or are you too uncomfortable?”
“Yes and yes.” I grimaced. “I’ll try.”
“Just to clarify,” he said, “you have had an orgasm before. So you can.”
“Right. It’s really hit or miss. Heavy on the miss.” My cheeks flared with heat, and I worked overtime to maintain eye contact with him.
“Then it’s a matter of finding what works. Some of that is trial and error. But if you fake it, I won’t know what works.”
Fair point. But there had been so much pressure to live up to some imaginary standard where orgasms came freely and easily during sex no matter what the position, speed, or angle. In reality, it was like trying to spot a freaking unicorn that only appeared in the woods twice a year between 8:00 and 8:05 p.m. when the moon was full. Theoretically possible, but incredibly rare.
“I guess that makes sense.”
“Do you know what works? Like, is it hit or miss even when you’re alone?” he asked carefully.
Oh my god. Speaking of wanting to die. Another swell of humiliation crashed over me, and I looked away, gaze dropping to the comforter again. “We are not talking about that.”
“Okay,” he said. “We don’t have to.” He fell quiet, stroking my hair. But we’d gone this far, so I guess nothing was too personal anymore. What did I have to lose?
I sighed. “Yes, even alone.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, rumbling low in his chest. “Have you tried a vibrator?”
“What?” I squeaked, eyes snapping back up to his.
“Like a sex toy,” he said. “It might help.”
“During sex or alone?” I cringed. Surely, I had used up all nine of my lives by now. It would be a great time for a sinkhole to open and swallow me up.
He shrugged. “Either.”
Luke’s ego—and male parts—would have deflated faster than a slapshot if I had suggested using a vibrator. Hell, he would have freaked out if I’d even owned a sex toy, which was one reason I didn’t. The other being that I was kind of intimidated by the idea.