23. Jolie
JOLIE
I think I just flew.
Like literally.
I was soaring.
That was…
I can’t even describe it.
My entire body went into chaos. But, like, this wonderful, mind-blowing chaos. The kind you think you might die in, but if you were going to die, that’s exactly how you’d want to go.
My legs are now clamped around Ben’s hand, and I really should let him go, but I’m worried that if he even skims his finger over that sensitive area again, I might shoot off the bed and break something.
“You okay?” He gently brushes my hip with the knuckles of his free hand.
“Yes,” I squeak. “I’m gonna let you go in a second, I promise.”
“That’s okay.” He laughs. “I can still feel my fingers… for now.”
I laugh, parting my legs enough to release him before slapping my thighs back together.
“That was…” My words trail off because I can’t. I don’t even know what to say.
He smiles at me, his gaze kind when he whispers, “You did it.”
“No. You did it,” I quickly argue, resting my hand on his chest and smiling back at him.
“You see what I mean now? Orgasms are the best, right?”
“Ohhhh yeahhh.” I tip my head back and laugh, then push up onto my elbow, about to thank him when my eyes skim down his body and I notice the bulge in his pants.
“Are you…? Do you have an erection right now?”
He clears his throat and follows my line of sight.
“Oh, yeah. It’s just…” He shrugs.
“Does you doing that to me turn you on?” My lips part in surprise. Why hadn’t I thought about that? It’s kind of thrilling to think I have an effect on him too.
“Well, yeah. That’s science for ya. It doesn’t take much to get a guy going. Hearing you moan like that, kissing you… touching you… watching you come… Of course my body’s going to respond. But don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to do anything about it.”
“But I can.” I reach for him, hoping he’ll teach me what to do too.
I can’t just leave him hanging like this, and to be honest, I don’t mind. In fact, I’m kind of curious. If I can orgasm without going all the way, then maybe he can too.
He darts his hips away from me before I can reach him. “Nope. The deal was that I keep my clothes on.”
“But… can you come without you know… putting it inside me?”
He lets out an awkward laugh, moving into a sitting position and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. I’m now staring at his broad back and wondering what the skin across his shoulders feels like, wondering if he has a six-pack. Wondering what he looks like under those clothes.
Heat courses through my body as I sit up too, desperate to reach for him.
“Yeah, Jolie.” Ben dips his head. “I can come without having to go all the way with you.”
“Can I make you come like that?”
He glances over his shoulder, his expression bunching before he looks away from me. “Um… yeah, you could. But that’s not what this is about.”
“But you made me feel so good. I want to return the favor.”
“No. Uh…” His laugh is all awkward. “This is about you and your pleasure. You’re the one we’re trying to make come. Not me. And…” He pops off the bed, spinning around to look down at me. His expression is pained for a second before he crosses his arms and murmurs, “And you’ve experienced that now.”
There’s this thick beat of silence as I study his face and quickly figure out everything he’s not saying.
My body runs cold, my lips parting as I curl my legs toward my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“So that’s it?” My voice is so heavy with disappointment it’s barely audible. “We’re never going to do this again?”
I glance up at him, and he’s still looking pained, so I quickly close my eyes.
How can I go from feeling so high to plummeting back down with a sickening thud?
“Jolie, don’t… uh…” He sighs, and I feel the bed dip as he sits back down. “Please don’t… cry…”
“I’m not,” I squeak, my voice giving me away.
Crap!
I don’t want to cry, but the emotions are all just bubbling up and…
He doesn’t want me.
It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.
The thought somehow makes it worse, and I squeeze my legs a little tighter. I’ve had my one orgasm now, and I should be really happy.
But I just know I’m going to want more. Even though I probably shouldn’t, I totally do.
And I want Ben to give them to me.
I don’t want someone else’s hands on my body.
I trust him.
I want him.
“Jolie, we agreed that I’d show you a few things. You know what feels good now. You can touch yourself. You can—” He lets out a little huff. “You felt where I touched you, right? You can replicate that.”
“I can’t kiss my own boobs, though,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing when I just realized what I said and how I said it—like a sulking kid. Ugh!
Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently berate myself and hope Ben’s not looking at me when I open them again.
But nope.
He is.
He’s staring at me with this torn look, and I’d do just about anything to find out what he’s thinking right now.
Which is why I blurt in this blubbery voice, “What are you thinking? Please, tell me what you’re thinking.”
He sighs, one of those heavy ones, like this is all too much and he wishes he’d never touched me in the first place.
Resting my chin on my knee, I look away from him, sniffing.
“I’m thinking I don’t want to let you down.” Flopping onto the bed, he softly nudges my leg with his finger. “Hey… I can still show you stuff, okay? We can practice until you feel more confident.”
“Really?” My voice picks up. “You’ll… do that to me again?”
“If you want me to.”
“Uh-huh.” Great, I’m going from a sulky teen to an eager puppy.
Ugh. I’m so—
My phone starts ringing and I look toward my bag, wondering if I should ignore it. But Ben hops up and grabs my bag for me, which means I kind of have to answer it now.
Giving him a weak smile, I find my phone with relative ease for once and then wish upon every star in the universe that I hadn’t.
A pained wince crosses my face and probably comes out in my voice as I automatically answer the call. “Hey, Mom.”
Oh my gosh. I’m basically sitting here naked in front of a hot guy, and I’m talking to my mother on the phone!
Why… why… WHY did I answer it?
I am a crazy person, and I’m barely hearing anything my mother says as I flush so red, I’m surprised the entire room isn’t glowing.
Ben covers his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh and walks to the other side of the room to give me some space, taking a seat on the chaise.
I trail his body with my eyes, drinking in his long legs and big, gentle hands, and that jawline.
I mean, I knew he had a great jawline, but it’s looking even more defined and delectable in this light.
He really is good-looking.
I mean, I knew he was good-looking, but now he’s even more handsome somehow.
His touch has electrified me, and I’m sitting on this bed, listening to my mother and wondering if I’m starting to catch feelings for the kind basketball player who just gave me my first orgasm.
A giggle involuntarily pops out of me, and Mom stops talking.
Biting my lips together, I hold my breath as she huffs, then says in her gentle, reprimanding lilt, “Jolie Carmichael, this is not funny. Your father is very stressed.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, scrubbing my brain for any piece of information I can catch onto. Why is Dad stressed?
“You know he’s a perfectionist, and creating wedding invitations for a bridezilla who cannot decide on anything is very challenging.”
“I’m sorry. That is tough. But Dad is such a great designer. I know he’ll find the perfect thing to make her happy.”
“Yes, well, of course he will.” Mom lets out a soft laugh. “So, how are you, my darling girl? Are you having a better week? You must be flying after the wonderful article you wrote. I’m sure the team is so grateful.”
I glance at Ben, who is now lounging back on the chaise and looking at something on his phone.
“Yeah, I think they liked it,” I murmur, flushing even hotter when I think about the reason why I’m actually flying.
I just had my first orgasm! And it was amazing!
And he’s agreed to give me another one!
And I know you’ve tried to instill in me that this stuff is bad, but how can something that feels this good be considered wrong?
“You’re such a talented writer. Dad and I are so proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I squeak, figuring that all their pride would disappear in an instant if they could see me right now. “Hey, Mom, I have to go.”
“Let me guess—you’re in the middle of a big assignment, and I’ve interrupted you mid-thought. I’m sorry, sweetie. I just miss you and wanted to hear your voice.”
I force a smile, hoping she can hear it in my tone. “It’s fine, Mom. I miss you too.”
“My big college girl. It was only yesterday that you were holding my hand and I was walking you to your first day of school.”
I internally groan, hoping she’s not about to take a long, nostalgic trip down memory lane. Ben’s waiting for me. But how do I cut her off if she starts getting emotional?
“Aw, Mom.” I push out a light laugh.
“I know, I know. I’m going. Just know that I’m thinking about you. Good luck on the assignment.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and stare down at my screen. I just lied to my mother. Well, not actually. She assumed, and I just failed to correct her.
And you know, in a way, this is kind of like an assignment.
I’m learning how to make my body fly.
That’s a big deal, and we have been calling these tutoring sessions for a reason, right?
Guilt thrashes me for a second, but not enough to quell the spark of joy that’s ignited in the depths of my soul.
I feel like I’ve just had an awakening and am seriously starting to wonder if what I was raised to believe is actually wrong.
What if sex is something that’s meant to be enjoyed?
What if they just told us kids it was forbidden because they didn’t want us sleeping around or getting pregnant too young?
What’s the bet that all the adults in my life love sex and have a bunch of it? That they just haven’t told me out of some warped fear that I might take that as permission to sleep with half the school?
“So… how’s mother dearest?” Ben stands, his voice playful, his eyes twinkling.
“Shut up.” I laugh, shaking my head and slapping a hand over my face. “If she could see me right now, she would seriously die.”
With a short laugh, Ben picks up my clothes, handing them to me with a gentle grin.
I take them and get dressed, tucking my hair back behind my ears, then adjusting my sweater. None of my clothes feel right for some reason. They’re so restrictive, and I want to be naked with him again.
Actually, I kind of want him to be naked too.
A thrill skips through me.
I’d love to touch him the way he touched me. I don’t even understand why, I just do.
But he doesn’t want that.
Crossing my arms, I try to curb this eagerness blooming inside me.
This is about me.
Not him.
He doesn’t want to be touched by my inexperienced self.
I have to respect that.
Walking to my shoes, I slip them on, then turn to thank him again.
“It’s okay.” He smiles, not even letting me get the words out. “Watching you come was beautiful. I’m glad I could do that for you.”
My insides quiver… in all the right ways.
I brush my teeth over my bottom lip but can’t contain my smile. “Are you sure you’re okay to do it again sometime?”
His eyes dart to the floor, but he’s nodding. “Sure. There are some more things I could show you. Ways I could—”
“I’d like that.” I blurt the words out way too loudly and can feel this rush of energy rising inside me. I’m about to start talking in unintelligible, high-speed excitement, and I should really get out of here before the happens.
Quickly spinning for the door, I leave before I have to deal with my inability to be cool the way he is.
I don’t want to risk putting him off. It’s a miracle he’s stuck around for this long.
Running to the elevator, I jump through the doors as soon as they’re open, relieved I have the space to myself.
As I lean back against the wall, I gaze up at the ceiling.
My lips are twitching, and there’s this giddy laughter bubbling inside me.
The only thing that’s stopping it from breaking free is the thought of having to explain this to anyone in my life.
I think I’d rather move to Siberia.