Intimate (21 page)

His hips had
started moving automatically, giving small, jerky thrusts up into her hand. He
was panting now, and he wasn’t going to last very long. But he tried to hold
back so he could enjoy this for as long as possible. “Marissa,” he grunted
softly, “God, baby.”

She didn’t look
nearly so anxious now, and she gazed at him with naked tenderness. “Is it okay?
Caleb? Will you come?”

He wanted to
laugh at the irony, but he was much too far gone. He rocked into the pressure
more urgently. “Yeah. God, yeah.”

At that, the
last traces of self-consciousness disappeared from her eyes. She leaned in to
kiss him. Licked a line across his lips. “Come, Caleb. Please. I want to see
you.”

But he didn’t
want to come yet. He wanted more of her touch, her tenderness, her need.

“Caleb,” she
whispered, her mouth now at his ear. “You feel so good. I love how you’re out
of control.” She tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. Then said, “I’m not
making any promises, but I don’t think we should agree to another week.”

He wasn’t
prepared. Lost control completely. Let out a raw burst of sound.

He came before
he realized what was happening. Came beneath the pressure of her hand. Came in
a powerful wave of release.

Caleb came with
Marissa pressed up beside him.

“If you keep on bugging me about
this,” Marissa snapped, “then I’m just not going to tell you when I have an
appointment with my therapist.”

“I haven’t bugged
you at all.” Caleb’s voice on the other end of the call sounded just as annoyed
as she was. “I haven’t put any pressure on you to tell me. You know that. But
you’ve got to admit that I have every reason to want to know what happened to
you back then, since it’s still affecting you so much.”

Of course it
was still affecting her. It was affecting him too. It was the reason they
couldn’t have sex yet.

“I know you do,
but it’s more complicated than that.”

“You can tell
your therapist?”

“Yes, I’ve told
her.”

“And she
doesn’t think you should tell me too?”

For a moment,
Marissa wanted to shake him. She didn’t need this argument on her way to her appointment—which
was already emotionally draining enough. But she made herself take a deep
breath and not yell at him the way she wanted.

“Yes, she thinks
I should tell you, but she knows enough to realize it’s not as easy as you’re
making it sound. I can’t just snap my fingers and fix everything because you
want me to. People don’t work that way.”

Caleb sounded
like he wanted to shake her too. “I’m not expecting you to fix everything. I’m
not expecting anything so ridiculous. I just want you to tell me what makes sex
so hard for you, and I can’t figure out why the fuck you keep refusing.”

Of course, he
didn’t understand. There was no way to make him understand.

Not without
crushing him.

There were only
a few things in the world he believed in, and she wasn’t going to take one away
from him.

The idea hurt
so much. All of it hurt so much.

Plus, she was trying
to find a parking space within a mile of her therapist’s office when there just
didn’t seem to be one.

She ruthlessly
suppressed the tears, but her voice wasn’t entirely steady when she forced out,
“I can’t deal with this now. I’ll talk to you later.”

When Caleb
called back, almost immediately, she didn’t answer the phone.

***

An hour and twenty minutes
later, Marissa was shaky as she slid back into her car after her appointment.

She’d spilled
out all her angst about being unable to share the details with Caleb, and her
therapist thought it was time to tell him the truth.

She said
Marissa was trying so hard to protect and take care of him that she wasn’t
allowing him to be his own person. Caleb wasn’t her mother, but she was
treating him like he was, like she had to keep him from spiraling down the
drain like her mother had. Marissa wasn’t responsible for everything, and she
couldn’t take on responsibility that wasn’t hers.

All of it was
true. Marissa had to admit, very reluctantly, it was true.

They’d agreed
her “homework” before her next appointment was to tell Caleb as much of the
truth as she possibly could.

She’d always
been good at homework, but this might have been the hardest assignment she’d
ever had.

Pulling her
phone out of her bag, she noticed that she’d missed four calls from Caleb. She
scanned through them and was surprised to see that two of the calls were in the
last half-hour.

He’d known
she’d be in this appointment. Why had he kept calling?

She called him
back and was worried when he didn’t answer.

As she drove
back to her apartment, she called twice more, still with no response, so she
was relieved when her phone rang as she neared her building.

She answered
without checking the caller and was startled when it wasn’t Caleb’s voice on
the other end.

“I’m calling
from Angels of Mercy Hospital about Caleb Wesley. Is this Marissa Dalton?”

 “Yes. Yes.
What’s going on?”

“Mr. Wesley was
in a car accident and was taken to our emergency room. He gave us your number
to call.”

Marissa almost
suffocated on a surge of fear. “Is he okay? What happened?”

“I’m sorry, but
I’m not allowed to give out details over the phone. Are you able to come to the
hospital now?”

“Yes. I’m on my
way.”

She made an
illegal U-turn and drove way too fast to the hospital in a frightened, blurry
daze, unable to think clearly—even about what she expected to find when she got
there.

She was
trembling so much after she walked in that she could barely explain who she was
looking for. It took a few minutes for them to get her to the right place, but
she was eventually shown back into a room in the emergency room.

When she saw
Caleb, sitting alone with his eyes closed and his head resting against the
wall, she made a gurgling sound.

He was alive.
He was upright. But the left side of his face was all scratched up, and he
looked horrible.

He opened his
eyes when he heard her.

“It’s not that
bad,” he said, evidently reading her expression. “I’m just scratched up from the
airbag.”

She stumbled toward
him, impulsively reaching out, but she paused before she did, afraid she might
hurt him somehow.

He pulled her
down until she was basically in his lap and tightened his arms around her. “I’m
fine, Marissa. I promise.”

“They didn’t
tell me what happened,” she said against his shoulder. “They didn’t tell me if
you were all right.”

“I don’t know
what happened to my damned phone or I would have called you myself. I had it
right after the accident, but then the paramedics insisted on taking me to the
hospital.”

“It looks like
you needed to go. Do you have a concussion?” She examined his face, looking for
signs of injury.

“Yeah.
Evidently it’s not that bad, though. I never lost consciousness or anything. I
just have a headache and the stupid scratches on my face. I told you. I’m
perfectly fine. My car isn’t so lucky, though.”

“I’m sorry
about your car. What happened with the accident?”

“Some idiot ran
a red light and hit me.”

“Can you go
home?”

“I think so. As
soon as they let me out of here.” He glared at the closed door of the room.
“I’ve been abandoned in here for ages.”

Marissa stood
up, pleased to have something useful to do. “I’ll go see if I can find someone
to move you along.”

She pestered
people until someone finally came in to finish things up. They said Caleb
needed to rest for a few days and take Tylenol for the headache. She shouldn’t leave
him alone for at least twenty-four hours and, if he slept, she should wake him
every few hours to make sure he could wake up normally.

After an
endless amount of logistics, they were finally able to leave.

Marissa stopped
at her place quickly to get overnight stuff, and then she drove Caleb home.

He was quiet
and irritable so she didn’t talk a lot. She felt exhausted from too much emotional
turmoil anyway, so she was just as happy not to sustain a conversation.

When they got
there, she made him take a quick shower and change into pajama pants and a
t-shirt. Then she made him get into bed, even though he kept insisting he was
fine.

He didn’t look
fine at all. He looked battered.

He still had a
headache so she got an ice-pack for him to use on his head, although he
grumbled heatedly about it. She went through a long list of possible beverage
choices until he consented to have a bottle of water.

After she’d
brought him the water, she fiddled with the shades to get the room as dark as
possible.

“Are you
hungry?” she asked, standing beside the bed and looking down at him anxiously.
He was pale and bedraggled and had a pained expression in his eyes.

“I’m not
hungry. I’m fine. Would you please just leave me alone?”

She knew she
should back off. She was too far into his space now, and any further attempts
to care for him would only make him angry.

But it was so
hard to just let him be.

She wanted so
much to help him.

“Okay. I’ll let
you rest.”

His eyes had
been focused on the television, which he’d turned to a sports channel. But now
he shifted them to her face.

His expression
softened, and he reached an arm out toward her. “Come here, baby.”

With a helpless
sound, she climbed into bed with him and let him pull her body against his. She
burrowed into his side, taking comfort in the fact that he felt as warm,
strong, and whole as ever.

“I’m sorry you
were scared,” he murmured, his voice just slightly thick. “I’m really fine.”

“I know. I just
wish I could make you feel better. But I promise I’ll try not to fuss over you
too much. I know it’s annoying. I just do it automatically.”

His arm
tightened around her. “That’s because you’re my little mouse.”

She couldn’t
rouse the appropriate indignation for this remark, but she made a half-hearted
attempt. “I’m not a mouse.”

“Yeah, you
are.” His voice was so fond and the memory so powerful that she couldn’t
possibly resent it. “Always busy, busy, busy, trying to make everything
better.”

Ridiculously,
she felt close to tears again. “I wish I could make everything better.”

Caleb didn’t
answer immediately, and when he did, it wasn’t what she expected. He stroked
her hair lightly, his touch so gentle it broke her heart. “You have no idea how
much better you make things.”

After a pause,
he added, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

***

“The movie was pretty good,
wasn’t it?” Marissa asked rather breathlessly.

After three
days, Caleb was fully recovered from his mild concussion, with only some
lingering scratches on his face, so they’d gone out to dinner and a movie to
celebrate before they’d ended up back in her living room.

He grunted out
some sort of response. His mouth was otherwise occupied, however, and he didn’t
appear to be paying much attention to the conversation anyway.

“I liked the
way they handled the romance,” she tried again, leaning back on the arm of the couch
in what she liked to refer to as her usual position. “It was very—” She gasped
harshly before she concluded, “realistic.”

Caleb was in
his usual position as well. On top of her. “Mmm hmm.”

The vibrations
from his hum against her throat spiraled down through her body, making her
shudder.

Wriggling
beneath him, she said, “We can have sex now if you want.”

This made him
raise his face from her neck and fix glazed eyes on her. “Marissa,” he began
slowly.

“I’m ready,” she
insisted, giving him a brave smile. Her heart pounded violently, but she really
did want to have sex tonight. She’d been thinking about it for the last few
days—ever since her appointment with the therapist and the accident. “We’ve
waited long enough.”

“Marissa,” Caleb
began again, his face tense and unreadable. “I don’t want you to do this just
to do it. I want it to be because we really want to.”

“I
do
really want to.” It was true. She was already very aroused, and she wanted more
than anything to ease the heightening pressure between her legs. More than
that, she wanted to be close to Caleb. Wanted to please him. To be with him in
the most intimate way. So what if she was still scared? She still wanted to do
this. “Don’t you?”

He smothered a
burst of laughter. “Maybe a little. But to ease my mind that you aren’t just pushing
yourself into it to give me some relief, why don’t we start with something in
between foreplay and actual intercourse?”

Marissa
remembered him coming under her hand. “Okay. Like we did the other night? We
can do that again.”

Gently tugging
on her lower lip with his teeth, Caleb reached down to slide up her skirt until
it was bunched up around her hips. “Like last time. But this time, I get to do
it for you.”

Despite the
irresistibly seductive quality of his voice and touch, her heart sank at his
words. If they were having regular sex or if she was bringing him to climax,
then her orgasming problem wouldn’t be an issue.

But if Caleb
was solely concentrating on getting her off, then he would definitely notice if
she didn’t come.

By this point, his
fingers were at the damp spot on her panties. He nudged her with his hand,
making her suck in her breath. “Good plan?” he asked softly, meeting her eyes.

She nodded.
“But maybe just with your hand—this time.” It wasn’t the plan she would have
come up with, but she felt an irrepressible glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe,
it could work.

She’d never
known what she was doing when she tried to masturbate, but he would definitely know
what he was doing. Just because she couldn’t make herself come with her hand,
didn’t mean that
Caleb
couldn't make her come.

She felt overly
hot and cramped on the couch, and she could feel his erection pushing against
her thigh. And then her skirt was pushed up and his hand was sliding beneath
her panties.

Marissa stifled
the immediate terror.

She wanted
this. She really did.

Caleb eased her
open and slid a finger inside. He was pressing little kisses into her jawline
at the same time, and she was glad for the distraction. “Okay?” he asked
gently.

“Yeah.” She
tried not to tighten her muscles around the intrusion of his finger. It felt
kind of nice and not as uncomfortable as she’d feared.

He slid the
finger in and out a few times to generate more moisture, and then pulled it out
altogether to trace up toward her clit. He found it in only a few moments.
Pushed against the sensitive flesh experimentally.

She choked out
a strange sound, her body jerking as she felt sharp pleasure shooting out from
his touch.

Still kissing
her face, he murmured over her skin, “Good?”