Intimate (22 page)

“Yeah,” she
breathed, her heart pounding brutally. “It’s good.”

Already, it was
better than anything she’d ever been able to do for herself. Her hope started
to grow even stronger. Maybe this could really work.

He readjusted
his hand and slid a finger back inside her. After a few slick thrusts, he added
a second finger.

Marissa bit her
lip and arched at the tighter, fuller feeling. Kept trying to relax her inner
muscles, but they were clamping down around his fingers insistently.

“God, you’re
tight,” he whispered, his voice at her ear. “Baby, I can’t believe how tight
you are.”

She wasn’t sure
how to respond to that, and it made her kind of embarrassed, so she just
grabbed his broad shoulders and hung on, tensing up in anticipation.

"Try to
relax a little more." He slid his tongue along her lips.

"I'm
trying. But saying it is easier than doing it."

After a few
more experimental touches, he established a pattern with his hand. He started
pumping two fingers inside her and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

It took a
minute for Marissa to get used to the strange sensations, but soon it started
feeling pretty nice. The friction was pleasant, and she loved watching his
face, so close to hers, occasionally leaning down to kiss her.

She was flushed
and breathing heavily, but she wasn’t making any weird sounds. Nothing felt
dirty or animalistic or connected to her bad memories as a child.

She was
basically enjoying it. But, after a few minutes, she still wasn’t getting
anywhere.

Caleb had tried
altering his rhythm and pattern several times, his expression growing more and
more focused. But the pleasure never became any more intense than what she’d
felt when he’d touched her the first time.

She reclined
against the arm of the sofa, gazing at his face and occasionally caressing his
neck and shoulders. As the time passed, though, she became even less relaxed.
Even more worried.

A feeling of
dread grew in her stomach.

 “Marissa,” Caleb
said at last, his voice edged with either anxiety or frustration. “Can you tell
me what you need?”

She was
starting to shake from suppressed disappointment and humiliation. “I don’t
know. I just don’t know.”

With a deep
breath, he moved his body so that his fingers could angle differently. She was
still wet enough that the sensations were comfortable, but she didn’t feel
anything different. In fact, she was starting to feel even less.

Lowering his
brow, he looked like he might be getting impatient. “Baby, you’re going to have
to help me,” he said, his voice a little stiff. “I know you're aroused, so that
can’t be the problem. Is there something else that works for you?”

He sounded
exasperated, and who could blame him? He’d waited all this time and still
wasn’t getting anywhere. “No,” she admitted. “Just don’t worry about it.”

"Try to
relax some more."

"Don't
tell me to relax. I'm doing the best I can."

He made a rough
noise of frustration and pulled out his hand. “If you let me use my mouth, I
could do it better.”

“No,” she
sighed. “It won’t matter. I’m not even close.”

She wasn’t even
sure what close felt like, but this definitely couldn’t be it. Her aroused
flesh was tingling a little from the constant stimulation, but after that
initial jolt of pleasure, all the sensations had plateaued.

He let out a
long breath and absentmindedly brought his two fingers up to his mouth. Slid
them inside and licked them clean.

Marissa made a
strange noise in her throat as she watched him taste her. He wasn't trying to
be sexy—he seemed to have done it unconsciously—but that made the gesture even
more intimate.

When he didn’t
say anything, Marissa started to get nervous. “I’m sorry, Caleb. Thank you for
trying.”

Four little
lines appeared between his eyebrows. “Were you too nervous? Is it still too
soon?”

She shook her
head. “I
was
kind of nervous, but it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

He stroked her
warm, damp cheek, his hand close enough to her nose to allow her to smell
herself on his skin. “At least tell me what I did wrong. You don’t have to
spare my feelings.”

That made it
hurt even more—that he was so kindly taking the blame on himself. “It wasn’t
you. It was me. I just can’t do it.”

“You can’t do
what?”

“Orgasm,” she
admitted. “I can’t get there. I never have.”

“Never?”

He sounded so
shocked and disbelieving that Marissa wanted to sink into the floor. “Never.”

“Why didn’t you
tell me this before?”

“It’s so embarrassing.
And I never really tried that much, since I haven’t thought much about sex
since college. I guess…I guess I was still hoping that I’d be able to with you.
Since you’re so good at it.”

For the first
time, he looked away from her so she couldn’t read his expression.

“But I can
still help
you
out,” she added. “Do you want me to?”

“No. I’m fine.”

She suddenly
realized he wasn’t really aroused anymore—evidently too distracted by her
issues

She let out a
defeated sigh. “What a mess. I won’t blame you if you want to give up on me.”

Caleb had
always been strong and passionate and deeply invested in whatever he was doing
at the moment.

But he also had
a long history of moving on when he got bored or dissatisfied.

She knew him
better than anyone, and she’d always known this about him.

So she knew how
much it meant when he said, “I’m not giving up.”

“Really?”

“Why do you
look surprised?” Caleb demanded, slightly insulted by the look on Marissa’s
face. “You know how I feel about you.”

“I know. I
do
know.” She looked anxious again, but for a different reason now. “But it hasn’t
been that long since our relationship changed, and sometimes it’s still hard
for me to believe you really want me. That much.”

His frustration
fading into understanding, he leaned over until his face was a breath away from
hers. “Well, start believing it. Because I do. I want you, Marissa. And I’m not
going away.”

Her face
transformed, and he realized something he'd said had gotten through to her. He
closed the gap between their mouths and kissed her long and deep.

This time, it
was more about emotion than sex, and Caleb was rocked by the difference.

She kissed the
same way she did everything else—generous, focused, earnest, vulnerable,
nothing held back, throwing herself into it so she could do the absolute best
she could.

If not for her,
he never would have known you could give yourself emotionally that way.

“I love you, Marissa,”
he said, the words pouring out without premeditation or hesitation. Just
because he was feeling so much he couldn’t seem to hold it in. “I love you. And
I’ll never want anyone but you.”

Her face looked
dangerously like she might cry. Then she grabbed him and pulled him into a
tight hug. “I love you too, you know.”

Caleb had heard
the words from her before, but he knew this time they were different. Just as
she must have known he meant them differently too.

He’d never
realized he was capable of feeling this way—like his chest might actually burst
open with too much emotion.

When they
finally pulled out of the embrace, he said in a hoarse voice, “I’ll do better
next time.”

“What do you
mean?" She looked genuinely confused.

“I’ve always
been good at sex. I’m not sure why it’s failing me now, but I’ll do better next
time.” He tried not to cringe at the memory of his failure a few minutes ago,
when all he wanted to do was please her, give her everything she needed.

“You mean about
before?” She stared at him in astonishment. “It was my fault, not yours. What
could you have done better?”

“I could have
given you an orgasm.”

She shook her
head roughly. “What are you talking about? Are you blaming yourself?”

“Who else?”

“Did you really
believe I would think you had failed? I love you, Caleb. You tried. You did
your best. And I love you. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“All right,” he
said, feeling a softening in his chest every time she said the words. “If
that’s true, then I’ll hear no more from you about why I’m not giving up.”

“I’m not
following you.”

He met her eyes
steadily. “I love you, Marissa. You’re trying. You’re doing your best. And I
love you. Why would you think I’d see you as a failure, just because you
haven’t miraculously healed yourself overnight?”

Damn it. She
started to cry.

But then she
was kissing him, and it wasn’t really that bad. A little wet, perhaps, but her
lips were urgent and hungry. And Caleb lost himself for a few minutes in the
sweetness of her embrace.

When they
finally parted, she pulled on him until he joined her sprawled out on the
couch. She nestled into his body with perfect, quiet trust.

He started
feeling a little uncomfortable. After such an overload of feeling, what he
really wanted to do was make love to her. Sink into her body and drive them
both to shattering release. If they could have sex, he would have an outlet for
all these overwhelming emotions. The intimacy could be physical as well.

But, as it was,
all Caleb could do was feel. That had always been hardest, most dangerous. And
he couldn't even have sex to distract himself.

But she was
everything to him—worth so much more than the effort it took to make himself so
vulnerable.

After a few
minutes, she asked in a soft voice, “So we’ll keep trying?”

“Oh, yeah.
We’ll keep trying.”

***

Caleb’s rehearsal ended at a few
minutes before seven o’clock the next day. It had been an annoying couple of
hours, with the conductor leading them in a direction with the music that Caleb
didn’t think they should go.

So he was
irritable when he left and headed toward Marissa’s apartment.

She wasn’t
expecting him tonight, but he could use her company anyway. He didn’t think she
would mind if he just dropped by.

He knocked lightly
on her door and then let himself in.

As soon as he
stepped through the doorway, things felt strange. The apartment was very dim,
and he was immediately enveloped by a warm, pleasant fragrance. Vanilla, he
thought, with another scent mixed in.

He glanced
around the living room. It was dark, and Marissa clearly wasn’t present. So he
walked toward her bedroom and noticed that she had lit a few candles and
scattered them around the room.

They created a
warm glow in the otherwise dark room, and they must be the source of the
increasingly seductive scent.

He knew now
where she was, so he turned toward her bathroom. Rapped softly on the
door—finally feeling a vague reluctance to just barge in.

“Come in, Caleb,”

With a smile, he
let himself into the small bathroom. It too was lit only by several candles,
and the scent was even more concentrated in the enclosed space. “Am I intruding
on…something?”

“What does it
look like?” she asked.

She was
submerged in her tub—surrounded by frothy bubbles, her head resting on a small
bath pillow.

He stopped
short when he saw her, momentarily dazed by how gorgeous she looked, her hair
piled loosely on her head, her skin glistening in the glow of the candlelight,
hints of her luscious curves occasionally visible where the bubbles were
thinner.

She made a wry
face. “I thought you said you weren’t coming over tonight.”

“I’ll leave if
you want me to.”

“No need. But
I’m not going to put an end to the spa evening I planned.”

Relieved he
wasn’t going to get kicked out, he casually draped a towel on the floor and
knelt down beside the tub. He reached over to tuck a stray tendril back under her
ear. “How’s the bath?”

“Well,” she
said languidly. “So far, it’s very relaxing.”

Her hand was
now resting on the side of the tub, so Caleb picked it up. Flicked a few stray
bubbles off with his tongue. Pressed a kiss into the palm.

Marissa gave
him a mushy smile. “You can help with the spa evening, if you really want to.
Otherwise, you might just head home.”

He wasn’t
exactly sure what constituted a full-fledged spa evening, but all the women
he’d dated before had always been particularly relaxed and good-natured after
they’d returned from being pampered.

“I’m very happy
to help.”

“Is it just
because you want to see me naked?”

He couldn’t
help but laugh at her dry tone. “Maybe a little.”

She laughed
too.

He rolled up
his sleeves. “So what have I missed?”

“A lot. You
missed all the tedious stuff. I gave myself a manicure, and a pedicure, and a
facial, and a super-deep conditioning treatment for my hair.” As she spoke, she
showed him the relevant body parts.

Caleb gazed
with appropriate appreciation on her pretty fingers and toes, her glowing skin,
and her soft, silky hair. “Very nice work,” he said huskily, curling that same stray
tendril around his index finger.

“And now it’s
time for the bath and the salt scrub.

Caleb picked up
an expensive looking jar from the other side of the tub. “Is this the salt
scrub?”

“It’s for
exfoliating the skin, but also for aromatherapy. I got everything at the same
store, so the scents wouldn’t clash.”

He screwed open
the lid of the jar and lifted it to his nose. “Very nice.”

“It’s vanilla
and jasmine,” she explained, holding her arm out of the water. He understood
this as a sign that he was supposed to start applying the scrub—since he said
he would help—so he scooped some of it out of the jar and rubbed it over her
firm, wet skin. As he worked, she sighed contentedly. “Combined, it’s supposed
to be a very sensual fragrance.”

“Is that
right?” Caleb felt a little mesmerized by the texture of the grainy scrub
against her skin. He gently rubbed in slow circles, the rough substance
gradually fading against the pale luster of her arm.

Marissa had
been watching him, but after a minute, she lolled her head back on the bath
pillow. Closed her eyes. “Mmm. This is so much nicer when someone else does it
for you.”

She made a few
soft moans as he continued to apply the scrub. He had to reach across the tub
to get to her other arm, and in the process he got an excellent view of her
nipples poking out from the bubbles.

The more he
rubbed her skin, and the more he heard the languid sounds of her pleasure, and
the more he saw of her body, the more erect he became.

Ignoring his
growing arousal, he moved down to the bottom of the tub to tend to her legs.
She must have shaved before he arrived because the skin was slick and supple
under his fingers. As he massaged the scrub into her flesh and then rinsed it
away, her skin became even softer, even smoother.

He couldn’t
reach the submerged tops of her thighs, and she didn’t offer to raise her hips,
so he moved to his previous position. She leaned forward so he could access her
back.

He could hear
her breathing deeply, slowly. Her already relaxed body loosened even further
under his touch. She would occasionally hiss out a word—”Nice,” or “God,” or
“Yeah.”

Caleb was
startled by how thrilling he found it to please her in this way. It wasn’t
sexual—but it was sensual and deeply physical. And it was entirely new for him.

When he
finished with her back, she reclined back against the tub. Her eyes were closed
and she might have been asleep, except she was arching her chest up just a
little, pushing her breasts to the surface of the water.

He wanted to
take her up on the silent invitation, but he knew he had to be very careful.
Couldn't presume too much. “Marissa,” he asked softly, “Do you want me to…“

“Yeah. They
need exfoliating too.”

And so he
rubbed the grainy scrub very carefully over the delicate skin of her breasts,
unable to resist brushing his fingers against her tightening nipples as he
worked. She started moaning more deeply at the stimulation—the sound low,
throaty, and infinitely erotic.

Caleb’s
erection hardened completely on her first moan. Started throbbing as she
squirmed a little under his hands.

Despite his intentionally
leisurely motion, soon he had finished applying the scrub to her chest and
shoulders.

“God,” she
groaned and sank back into the water. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good
in my life.” Finally, she opened her eyes and gazed at him. “If you ever decide
to give up the cello, you could easily make a good living at a spa.”

His chuckle was
a little tense as he tried to will down his arousal.

Marissa started
to drain the water from the tub, and Caleb helped her to her feet. She must
have been really relaxed because her knees started to buckle when she first put
her weight on her legs.

Clinging to his
arm, she laughed at herself and reached out for the towel he held. But instead
of handing it to her, he dried her off himself. Tried not to stare at her delectable
nakedness too much, not wanting to make her self-conscious.

She burrowed against
him briefly as he ran the towel over her. “Thanks, Caleb,” she whispered. “I’ll
tell you a secret.”

He tensed up as
he waited.

“I planned this
spa evening in the hopes of getting relaxed enough to have an orgasm. I bought
a vibrator and everything.”

His erection
twitched painfully. “Maybe I can help with that.”

“I’d like you to,
now that you’re here, but I’m a little worried—since I might get stressed out
if there’s any pressure of sex.”

“I’m not here
for sex. There’s no pressure at all. I’d like to do this for you, if you let
me.” He was quite pleased that he managed to sound cool and composed, even
though he was howling inside with primal satisfaction at the way she was
offering herself to him this way.

She peered at
his face, as if verifying he was speaking the truth. She must have liked what
she saw there, since she stretched up to give him a kiss.

When she
slipped on her little satin robe and started to leave the bathroom, she glanced
back at him. He had made no move to follow her.

“I’ll be right
there,” he said.

Her lips parted
in enlightenment, and he stayed behind and took care of his inconvenient erection
in record time.

When he joined Marissa
in the bedroom, he felt much more in control—of his body, his mind, and his
heart.

She sat on the
edge of her bed, brushing her hair, which she’d unpinned from the top of her
head.

He paused a
moment to watch her. In the candlelight, her dark hair was luminous and her
skin glistened. Her robe clung to the moisture on her body, so he could see the
curves and peaks of her breasts clearly as she raised and lowered her arm with
the brush.

He figured that
he had some time before his body started to physically respond again, and he
didn’t want to waste any of it.

Moving slowly,
he sat on the bed next to her. Took the brush out of her hand. Gently pulled it
through her soft hair, spreading the shiny locks out over her shoulders. “God,
you’re beautiful.”

He’d never
brushed a woman’s hair before. Had no idea it could be so erotic.