Chapter 11 Liza
Liza
Iwatch with fascination as my words register in Blue’s brain. To his credit, he doesn’t call bullshit, or laugh out loud, or let his jaw hit the floor. He’s schooling his features like a pro.
Sex isn’t something I talk about all that often.
It’s not even something I do very often, but when the topic of mind-blowing orgasms does crop up in conversations, I stay silent.
What’s that old saying? If you don’t have anything nice to say, keep your big mouth shut? Yeah, it’s something like that.
While my friends like to chatter away about the pleasure they’re receiving, I’m content to make to-do lists in my head, or daydream about a future where I have one singular job and an actual social life.
What I’d do with that social life, I have no clue, and I’ll admit that’s part of the reason I’m sticking with this study.
Sure, I may not have enough time right now to even think about being in a relationship, but someday far in the future, after I’ve graduated from Bainbridge, and finished grad school, and landed my dream job, then I’ll hit the dating scene.
And, if I view this study as a sort of boot camp, and Blue as my drill sergeant, then I’ll be prepared.
“Holy shit, DeWalt. You can’t drop a bomb like that and go radio silent,” Blue says, pulling me out of my head and back to our conversation.
“What else is there to say?” I ask. “You basically know everything, since you read my journal—”
“I read a freaking paragraph, Liza,” he says, interrupting me, his eyes pleading. “We’ve been over this. It took me a second to figure out what I was reading and when I clued into the fact that it wasn’t meant for my eyes, I stopped.”
I really do believe him, but I’m still mortified. “It might have only been one paragraph, but those few sentences told the bleak little tale of my sex life. And what we did last night was not bleak at all. It was…enlightening.”
Blue’s quiet for a moment as he studies me.
“Enlightening? That’s what we’re calling it now?
And let me make sure I’m following along here.
About twenty-four hours ago, I, uh, enlightened you in a storage room.
You promptly told me to fuck right off before you ran out like the place was being raided by the cops.
You spent the entire day avoiding me while also revisiting your memories of just how good we were together.
So good, in fact, that now you want to use me for my skills. Do I have that right so far?”
I can feel my cheeks heat because Blue just gave an eerily accurate rundown of my day. “When you put it like that, it just sounds bad—I sound bad. I’m not planning to just lie there and let you service me.”
“Service you?” Blue asks, his eyebrows raised.
“Take care of my…needs. Dammit, Blue, you know what I mean. I don’t want to use you,” I say, absolutely certain that my face is the color of a strawberry right now.
“Then what do you want to do with me?” he asks, feigning innocence. I can see it in his devilish blue eyes and in the hint of a smile he can’t quite hide.
I take a fortifying breath because I’ve come this far and now I have to finish.
And oh, my god, why does everything sound sexual to me right now?
Has this study morphed my brain so that I’m thinking like a seventh grade boy?
I give myself a mental head shake and summon what’s left of the courage that brought me up here tonight.
Straightening my spine, I find my voice.
“I propose a monogamous, mutually satisfying agreement between us that lasts for the next nine weeks.”
“Sounds sexy,” he deadpans. “Where do I sign?”
I roll my eyes and restrain myself from swatting his chest—his gloriously bare chest. “It’s not a contract. It’s a—”
“The way you described it, it sure sounds like one,” he says, shrugging, as I do my best not to watch his muscles bunch.
“I just meant that—”
“Then just say what you mean.”
“I will, if you’d stop interrupting me,” I say, unable to hide my annoyance. However, I’m also unable to come up with the right words for what I want to say, so that takes a little of the punch out of my comeback. And it gives Blue time to interject, yet again.
“You want orgasms,” he states plainly, stretching out his palm and ticking off fingers as he gives me his summary.
“And you want me to give them to you for the next, what? Two months, right? During which time, you don’t want either of us to give or receive orgasms from other people.
This is for your study, but it also gives you the opportunity to figure out what works and what doesn’t.
I’m the perfect candidate because there’s no way you’d ever catch feelings for me, and also because I can do what no other guy ever has. ”
His words aren’t smug, but I want to smack him anyway. “How do you do that? How do you know what I’m thinking? We are nothing alike, we have nothing in common, so it makes no sense that you can see inside my freaking mind,” I say, crossing my arms like a petulant child.
Blue’s smile is genuine. “I’m good at reading people because I pay attention to things that other people miss. That’s also why I’m qualified for the job you just offered.”
“The job, yes,” I say, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand and not on the fact that earning one of his smiles feels like a prize. “So, are you up for it? And if you are, we need to figure out what you get out of this, too. I mean, other than—”
Blue’s eyes narrow in on mine. “I swear to god, if you say sex—”
“You don’t want to have sex with me?” It’s a strange question to ask, but this is an unorthodox situation.
Blue’s shaking his head, but his eyes are locked on mine, his expression sincere.
“Not as part of a study, or a favor, or a job, no. I’m all for orgasm bootcamp, but this is about you, not me.
If and when you and I have sex, it will be because you want me—not what I can give you, or do for you, or show you.
Not how my hands and mouth and tongue can make you feel, just me. ”
His words throw me a little off-balance, or maybe it’s the way his blue eyes are looking right through me. “Okay,” I say, because my brain is a little scrambled and I don’t know how to respond. “But this is a really lopsided situation. You’re giving me a lot, and I’m—”
For once, I’m not supremely annoyed when he interrupts me. “It’s not lopsided,” he insists. “But if you really want to give me something, I’ll let you.”
“What do you want?” I ask, hating that I sound breathless when I mean to sound wary.
“A chance,” he tells me.
“A chance for what? A relationship? But I thought we weren’t having sex. And I don’t have time for any kind of social life.”
“No,” he answers, shaking his head. “I want a chance to prove I’m not the asshole you think I am. You’re friends with all the guys and I’m public enemy number one, and I get it. I was a dick that first day we met, and I’m sorry. Let me prove to you that I’m a decent person.”
“How will you do that?” I ask. After the words are out of my mouth, I realize how rude I sound, but it’s a legitimate question. Does he want brownie points in exchange for orgasms.
Blue chuckles. “Just hang out with me sometimes. I know my job is making you come, and I’ll get it done, no problem. But maybe let me make you laugh, too? We don’t have to be besties or anything, but I’d like to think that at the end of the nine weeks, you won’t hate me.”
I should deny it, because hate is too strong a word, but I’m not quibbling over semantics.
We argue enough, and if this arrangement is going to work, I can’t pick fights, even if they’re small ones.
“You have yourself a deal,” I say, holding my hand out like I just agreed to co-sign a car loan or something.
“Great,” he says, smoothly ignoring my outstretched hand as he stands and stretches. “Let’s get started.”
“Now?!”
“Yeah, I mean, check your planner, of course, but isn’t this orgasm time?”
“Technically, yes, but we’ve spent so much time talking that—”
“My apologies. Next time, I’ll keep my mouth shut unless it’s locked on your pussy, tasting you until you want to come so bad your legs are shaking.”
How does he do that? How does he just blurt out the sexiest things like he’s asking me if I need anything at the grocery store.
“I just meant,” I say, taking a measured breath, “that it’s nearly midnight.
People are going to start coming back soon, and I don’t want anybody finding out that… you know…”
“That I’m your super secret orgasm delivery boy? In that case, haul that fine ass of yours to your bedroom in a hurry. I’ll be right behind you. I just want to grab some lube.”
Good grief, I never even thought of that.
Granted, I don't want to be stuck in Blue’s room all night.
Bridgette and I have gotten close, but if she caught me ducking out in the wee hours of the morning, there’d be a lot of questions to answer.
But sneaking into my room isn’t ideal. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?
What if the guys come home and find you walking through the living room with your hands full of lube? ”
Blue’s laugh is easy. “I’m bringing a bottle, Liza, not a case.
And besides, I’d bet a thousand bucks there’s at least one bottle of lube stashed somewhere in the living room.
I’m pretty sure Ollie and Fallon have a regular rotation for christening every room in the house.
No one’s going to see us, but if they do, I’ll say I found it in between the couch cushions.
Or I’ll squirt it at them and they’ll run like hell thinking it’s a prank. ”
I can’t argue with that, and I don’t want to wait any longer to find out if last night was a fluke or if Blue can really make me feel that good again.