Chapter Five
Alden
What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Romance meant sex, and there were rules about how you described a woman’s crotch. We hadn’t even gotten to the penis yet.
I was in over my head.
“You look a little pale. Why don’t we do some more reading research? Maybe I’ve deep dived too far.”
I nodded dumbly. “We’re going to need snacks.” I stood to head to the kitchen and realized that I had drunk a lot of wine already. My balance was a little off, or maybe that was just the presence of my lifelong crush talking about sex on my couch.
I rifled through my cupboards and started throwing things together. What snacks went with reading hot sex with a woman who made me hard?
Chocolate, obviously. I added some to the plate. I glanced over my shoulder. Joy had reclined a little against the arm of the couch, resting one shapely calf on the middle cushion.
She looked so right there, with her wine and her book.
I shook my head. She’s sunshine and rainbows; she wouldn’t want to hang out in the shadows with me.
“Find anything good?” I asked, popping a chip into my mouth.
“His dick twitched in interest,” she read.
I had to pat myself on the chest to avoid choking. “What? That’s… specific.”
“I see this description in novels all the time. I’ve always wondered, do they really do that? Like a dog wags his tail when he’s happy, sorta thing?” She cocked her head, waiting for my answer.
Was she serious?
“What? No. Not like a tail, Jesus, Joy. It’s like a muscle clench in your gut that makes it jump.” I had done a lot of blushing since she arrived, and it apparently wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
“Like a puppet getting its strings pulled?” She blinked at me, waiting for an answer.
“No, well, yes, but that…God, why are you asking me this? You’ve been with guys before. You should know this. You were with that douchey guy, what’s his name?”
“Neil?”
“No, although he’s a douche too, the one with the Porsche.”
“Oh, Stuart.”
“That’s the one. Shouldn’t you know the basics of how a dick works?” The idea of her with any other guy made my caveman instincts want to punch Neil, Stuart, and his Porsche, too.
“It’s not like they come with a manual. Just because I’ve seen them and…done other things with them doesn’t mean I know the mechanics. Romance novels list all these special features. Now that I have the chance to really think about what’s written, I have questions.”
I looked at the ceiling for a moment to collect my thoughts. “So when you’re reading by yourself, you’re not really thinking about the scenes?”
“No, I’m trying to hold a book in one hand and a vibrator in the other. It takes coordination. There’s no time to take notes.”
I died.
That was the only explanation for how I was having this conversation right now. I didn’t know whether to pop a boner or call a priest.
I had a book to write. I really didn’t have the brain space to picture Joy with a vibrator right now. The book was getting further from my mind the longer I spent with her. “I have no idea what to say right now.”
“Fine, if you’re not willing to share your dick knowledge with me, let’s just keep going.”
We both turned back to our novels, although I found my eyes glancing her way every half a page or so.
“What’s with the good girl thing? I asked after twenty minutes of flipping through books, hyperaware of the vanilla-scented temptation on the other end of my couch.
“Gimme.” She leaned forward, her foot coming to rest against the side of my thigh as she grabbed the book from my hand.
“Good girl, you take my dick so well,” she read. “Ah, the praise kink. Lots of readers love it. It’s not my style, though. I have too many questions.”
Fuck, no more questions. I held out for all of three seconds before curiosity got the best of me. “Like what?”
She tucked her legs under her. “Like, why do you need to talk her through it? It’s a dick, not Mount Everest, you know? It’s just not that big an obstacle. Feels like his words are meant to be some weird sex sherpa helping her get to the top.”
I burst out laughing. I could barely remember the last time I smiled genuinely, let alone full-on belly laughed.
The wine was helping, but Joy’s complete lack of a filter didn’t hurt either.
Fucking hell, this woman would be the death of me.
“Maybe he should offer her supplemental oxygen and food rations.”
“Make camp at the base and try for the tip at first light.” She snorted a laugh.
“Okay, a conversation about sex sherpas tells me we need to switch from wine to water. Don’t want to have a splitting headache on Christmas.
” I got up to head to the kitchen. Just those few feet of distance from her had me realizing that the mood had shifted.
I’d started this evening with a goal of learning something, but somewhere along the way, things had gone from productive to just fun.
Fun might not be the final destination. Not with the way she was willing to spill details of her sexual likes and dislikes thinly veiled behind book critiques.
Not with the way my dick was starting to tent the front of my sweats with every whiff of her vanilla perfume.
“Not to criticize, but you were the one who supplied these books, yet you’ve done nothing but complain about them,” I said over my shoulder.
She sighed and leaned heavily against the back of the couch. “Yeah, dark romance might have been a mistake. Especially this one.” She held up a book with a cover that was a mix of red and gray flowers. “He talks her through it like she’s navigating a rope course or something.”
Whatever I expected for my first Christmas back in Springwood, it wasn’t this.