Intimate (25 page)

Caleb leaned
his face down and kissed the part of her head he could reach. “I don’t think
you’ll do it wrong.”

She really
didn’t
know what she was doing, so she made some experimental strokes with her
fingers, up and down. Heard Caleb suck in his breath, so she figured it had
felt pretty good.

Bringing one
hand to the tip, she played a little with the head, trying to familiarize
herself with how each part of him felt. Held his balls in her hand. Explored
the different textures of his shaft. Soon, she was so fascinated with figuring
him out that she forgot she was supposed to be nervous.

When she
remembered to look up, Caleb was smiling at her slightly.

“I’m sorry. I
got distracted.”

“You don’t hear
me complaining.”

She couldn’t
believe she could love anyone so much. She wanted to protect him, take care of
him, give him everything he needed. So she did so in the most obvious way
available to her at the moment.

She got a
firmer grip on him and applied a little more pressure with one hand.

Caleb groaned,
and his head fell back against the couch cushion. “Good, baby. That’s good.”

Feeling
encouraged, she kept that up for a while, then tried something she’d read about
in one of the erotic stories. Moved her fingers up to swirl around the head. Then
placed one palm on the tip of his erection and moved it in tight little
circles.

This move was a
rousing success.

“Sweet Jesus.” His
whole body tensed up against her. His hips gave an involuntary buck into her
hands.

She’d never
heard him utter that particular exclamation before, so she figured it was a
very good sign. Her belly tightened with excitement, and she felt a little
tingly between her legs as she continued.

Returning her
hands to the shaft, she encircled it and ran both hands up and down. He grunted
in response.

She noticed the
fluid gathering at the tip, and she knew exactly what to do with that—those books
were turning out to be very helpful. She used her hand to rub the fluid and
massage it into his hard flesh.

Caleb was
breathing rapidly now, and his whole body seemed to have gotten hotter. The
heat radiating off him was flushing her as well, and the rough, uncontrolled
noises he made aroused her even more.

She pumped him
more intensely and was rewarded when he began muttering—just under his breath.
Saying things like, “Yes,” and “Good,” and “Marissa.” He made little thrusts
into her hands, and she felt her inner muscles clenching as she watched him
lose control.

Losing track of
specific actions now, she acted by instinct and did her best to follow the
rhythm he established. His arm at some point had moved down across her
shoulders and was pressing her body against him, and, without slowing down her hands,
Marissa tilted up her face to kiss his jaw.

“Caleb, I love
you,” she whispered.

He made a
harsh, desperate sound, and his face contorted with pleasure.

Almost
overwhelmed with the power of it—the power she possessed to please him—Marissa
wanted to let him know how much she was enjoying doing this for him. “I love
this, Caleb,” she breathed into his ear, continuing to pump him with alternate
hands. “I love making you come.”

This wasn’t
anything like having sex—at least, not from Marissa’s experiences. She felt in
control of this, felt potent and needed. Was almost as aroused now as she’d
been yesterday.

Caleb was
tossing his head against the couch cushion, clenching one of his hands in the
armrest. She felt him swell and contract under her hands.

“Yeah. Come.”

He choked out,
“Marissa.” And then he did.

His release was
strong and took over his body, and it made Marissa suddenly feel ridiculously
frightened. But as he came down, breathing harshly and slumping back on the
couch, she distracted herself from her anxiety by reaching over to grab some
tissues to clean both of them off a bit. By the time he opened his eyes again,
she had pulled herself together. Was nestling against him.

“That was
pretty amazing for someone who says she doesn’t know what she’s doing,” he said
dryly, adjusting to pull his jeans back into place and refasten them.

She grinned up
at him. “I got inspired.” She had also gotten very aroused.

His body was
more pliant than she’d ever felt it, and it was pretty nice to just snuggle
against him for a while. But soon, he nudged her backwards. Following his
gentle urging, she leaned back until she was lying on her back.

“Now it’s your
turn.” He moved over her and nuzzled her neck. “We’ll see what we can do for
you without all the preliminaries.”

Marissa laughed
breathlessly as he teased the sensitive place on her sides with light brushes
of his fingers. “Oh, good. My turn. And good luck to both of us. ‘Cause if we
always have to go through a lengthy spa routine before I'm able to come, we’re
both going to end up really exhausted.”

He shook with
amusement as he nibbled a line from her throat up to her cheek. Made a detour
to her ear and tongued it in a way that made her squeal. Then he captured her
lips in a deep kiss.

While Marissa
was diverted by the kiss, Caleb unzipped her jeans and pushed them with her
panties down over her hips. She made a throaty noise into his mouth when she
felt his warm hands on her bare skin, but she kicked her jeans off over her
feet as he gently stroked her thighs.

“You ready?” he
asked, after pulling his mouth away from hers at last.

Marissa clasped
her hands around the back of his head, keeping him from pulling very far away.
“Oh, yeah.”

It was true. As
she pressed his face back down toward hers for another kiss, she wasn’t even
nervous. She knew what to expect. Knew how good it would feel. Knew it was Caleb,
and never wanted to not be this close to him.

While his
tongue caressed the inside of her mouth, one of his hands moved up to fondle
her breast over her shirt. The other slid in between her legs, his fingers
exploring her wet entrance.

When he found
that she was indeed ready, he thrust a finger inside. Then two. She moaned
helplessly as she continued to kiss him, feeling pleasure from so many parts of
her body that she could barely distinguish between them.

He soon worked
out a rhythm, between his fingers pumping inside her and his thumb rubbing
steadily at her clit. His other hand caressed one of her breasts, playfully
twirling the nipple, and he never stopped kissing her.

It didn’t take
nearly as long this time before she felt that exquisite pressure start to
build. But this time she didn’t even begin to panic. She tried to rock her body
into his rhythm, in an instinctive attempt to help it along.

“Marissa,” Caleb
murmured, pulling his mouth away to trail kisses down to the side of her neck.
“Talk to me, baby. Is it good?”

She cried out
sharply as his finger flicked her hard nipple, the corresponding tug shooting
down to where his other hand was skillfully working her over. “God, yeah. So
good. Perfect.”

He kissed her
again, and she felt like she was drowning—like there was nothing but Caleb in
the world, nothing but the way he was making her feel.

He mouthed the
side of her jaw, scraping it slightly with his teeth, causing a deep shudder to
start low in her spine. “You feel so tight, and hot, and sweet,” he said, his
voice just another caress. He pulled his face up slightly to gaze at her. “Marissa,
you’re so beautiful like this. So beautiful when you let yourself go.”

His face was
starting to blur in front of her eyes, as her orgasm steadily rose. She was
burning up and sweating and grunting out strange noises, but she felt just as
beautiful as he said.

She cried out
wordlessly as his thumb applied extra pressure to her clit. It felt too good to
form words, but she couldn’t keep herself quiet.

“That’s right. Just
like that,” he breathed, increasing the pace of his hand. “Do you think you can
come?”

“Uh huh.”

He kissed her once
more, but this time she was too far gone to respond. Just felt him
everywhere—in her mouth, on her breast, inside her, at her clit, draped over
her. Pushing her over the edge. Keeping her safe.

“Come, Marissa.
Let go. Come for me, baby.”

“Yeah. For
you,” she gasped, hardly knowing what she was saying.

“Come for me,” he
murmured one more time, pushing his fingers into her hard and pressing into her
clit simultaneously.

She felt the
same moment of almost freezing in midair, and then her entire body erupted into
pleasure. Her inner muscles clenched, sending out spasms of sensation. Her
upper body flew up, and her fingers dug into his back. She couldn’t contain the
cry that forced its way out of her throat, although it was loud and shrill and
sounded silly.

Caleb kept
stroking her gently afterwards, as she finally relaxed beneath him. “Wow,” she
gasped, waves of contentment washing over her. “I could really get used to
this.”

 “Me too.”

He adjusted
their positions until he was lying on his side and Marissa was pressed up
against him. Her bare butt was getting a little chilly in the cool apartment, but
she had no complaints in the world.

He reached over
to grab a throw blanket and drape it over her lower half.

Just a small
gesture. Just taking care of her.

He wanted to
take care of her.

As much as she
wanted to take care of him.

He was strong.

He was stronger
than she’d given him credit for in the past.

He was strong
enough to hear what she needed to tell him.

He was strong
enough to not fall apart.

So she heard
herself saying into the silence, “Can we…can we talk?”

He stroked her
back leisurely. “Of course. What do you want to talk about?”

 “You always
wanted to know what happened. When I was a kid.” She reached down to pull back
on her panties and jeans, since she felt too exposed as she was.

She felt him
suddenly tense up. “Yes. I want to know.”

“Well, if it’s
all right, I wanted to tell you now.”

Caleb was slightly queasy from shifting
gears so abruptly—from a mind-blowing hand-job to a sudden confession of painful
knowledge.

He straightened
up and reached to pull on his shirt. “Yeah. Of course, it’s all right.”

She’d been
flushed before, but now her face had paled dramatically. He could see her
taking fast, uneven breaths.

Immediately
worried, he said, “You don’t have to tell me now, if it’s too—”

“No. I want to.
I need to tell you. Just give me a minute to get my thoughts together.”

“Okay.” His
heart drummed violently in his chest, and his breathing grew as shallow as hers.
He knew this was big. Important. A boundary she was about to cross—one that would
shape their relationship from this moment forward.

And he felt
momentarily trapped. Claustrophobic. Suffocated by the weight of what was
impending.

He somehow
knew, on the other side of this boundary, it would be different.
They
would be different. There would be no going back.

For either of
them.

He loved her
too much to stop her from speaking, though, no matter how stifled he felt. She
needed this, and he was determined to give her anything she needed.

“You know my
mom was an alcoholic,” she said at last.

“Yeah. No one
talked about it much, but everyone pretty much knew. That’s the reason they
took you away from her?”

“Yeah. She did
go through times of recovery. She tried. They never lasted, though, and when
she was drinking, she had…she didn’t have very good judgment.”

When she
paused, Caleb prompted, “She didn’t…she didn’t treat you right?”

Marissa lowered
her eyes. “It wasn’t really that. I mean, she didn’t in a lot of ways. But she
loved me and she tried. It was better when I was older and could stay by
myself. It’s just that she didn’t have judgment about who she left me with,
when she went out, when I was little.”

As far as Caleb
was concerned, Marissa had been little the entire time she was in her mother’s
custody, too little to be left to her own devices, as she’d evidently been in
the latter years. He didn’t say that, though. Another kind of fear was growing.
“Who did she leave you with? You always said you weren’t raped or touched or
anything like that.”

“That’s true. I
never was.” She was so white and shaky that Caleb wanted to pull her into his
arms and comfort her somehow. “Some of my babysitters were fine. But I had a
regular babysitter for almost a year. I don’t know if you remember her from
when you were on breaks from school. She was always hanging around. Chelsea.
She was a music student, an intern with—”

“I remember
her.” Caleb cleared his throat, feeling even sicker than before. “What did she
do to you?”

“Nothing. Not
directly. She was fine until it was my bedtime. She had a…a boyfriend who would
come over.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes.

Frozen as he
tried to process this, he finally asked, “They had sex?”

“It was always
in the other room. They never did anything in front of me. I’m sure they
thought I was asleep and I wouldn’t know anything about it. But the apartment
was small.”

“You heard
things?”

“I heard everything.
I tried not to. I would try to sleep with a pillow over my head. It…it really
affected me. Those nights seemed to go on forever.”

It was such a
horrifying picture—sweet little Marissa, just a child, trying to hide beneath a
pillow while strangers fucked not far away—that he felt bile rise in his
throat.

She reached out
and put a hand on his arm. “Are you all right, Caleb?”

“Of course,” he
said, pulling himself together. “I’m angry and disgusted, but you’re the one
who had to live through it. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

She stared down
at her lap. “He was married, which was why they did it there. Sometimes it
wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t come over, or they wouldn’t do as much. But
sometimes… It was all so loud, and dirty, and animalistic. You should have
heard the things they said to each other. I know it might not sound really
traumatic, but it completely soured me to sex. You understand, don’t you, why sex
has always been a problem for me? I have such trouble not associating it with
that
.”

 She sounded so
broken that he couldn’t resist anymore. He reached out and drew her into his
arms. “Of course, I understand. Of course, I do. I knew there was a real reason
and you weren’t just being melodramatic.”

To his relief,
she didn’t try to pull away. She shook against him for a minute, obviously
taking comfort in him, which gave him comfort too.

Stroking her
loose hair, he said at last, “I completely understand about your feelings about
sex, but I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me before. I know it’s
hard—it’s horrible—but I would have understood. I could have tried to help a
lot sooner.”

She made a
choked sound, like she was smothering a sob, and then she pulled away. “That’s
where it gets really messy.”

“I don’t
understand.”

With a
reluctant twist of her face, she said, “It’s about…about
him
.”

Caleb realized
something he hadn’t processed before. “How did you know he was married?”

“I knew who he
was. I knew him.”

Suddenly
alerted to what he never could have expected, his heart caught in his throat.
“Who was the man?”

She jerked her
head to the side, hiding her expression from him.

“Marissa, tell
me who the man was.”

“Your dad.” The
admission sounded ripped out of her. “I’m so sorry, Caleb, but it was your
dad.”

He heard the
words as soon as they were spoken, but they didn’t register in his mind. For a
minute, the world blurred into safe confusion—the living room, Marissa’s face,
the fisting of his own fingers, what she’d just said, all of it melting into
fuzzy edges.

It was silent
for a really long time.

Then finally,
“I don’t believe you.” His voice was soft and raspy.

“It’s true. I’m
so sorry, sweetie, but it’s true. I would never lie about something like this.”

He knew she
wouldn’t lie about it. She was the most honest person he’d ever known. But his
parents’ marriage had always been good. Had always been the model for him of
how to be in a relationship.

“You were
really young,” he said at last. “Maybe you didn’t—”

“I know it was
him, Caleb. I promise it was him.”

He had no
choice but to believe her.

“I’m sure it
never occurred to him that I would hear what they were doing. He wouldn’t have
intentionally hurt me. It’s just that he was…”

Doing exactly
what he wanted. No matter what the cost.

He felt her
hand on his arm again, his bicep so tense it was shuddering. “Are you okay?”
she asked.

“Yeah.” He
wasn’t, but what else could he say? “You’re the one who had to go through it.”

“You’re having
to go through it now too.”

Her tender
sympathy didn’t help. Only made him feel weak. He gently pulled his arm out of
her grip.

“What can I do,
Caleb?”

He shook his
head and looked blindly in her direction. “I’m fine. It’s just that this is…it’s
a shock. And it’s in my space now. I just need a little time to…”

To
something
.

“I know you do.
I’m sorry to dump it on you like this. I could never tell you before because I
wanted to protect you from this. But I guess I can’t really protect you. You
can go home, if you need some time to process everything.”

He tried to
focus on her face, see if she really meant it. Her expression was twisted with
emotion, but her blue eyes were utterly sincere. “I shouldn’t leave you. I know
it was hard for you to tell me—”

“I’m fine,
Caleb. Really. You can go home if you need to.”

He desperately
needed to. Get away. Be alone. Find his space again. “If you’re sure.”

She nodded and
stood up, signaling that he was allowed to stand up too. “I’m sure. Just call
me later so I know you’re all right.”

“I will.”

She reached out
to hug him, and he let her—since he knew she needed it. But he wanted to pull
away. He wanted to feel like himself.

“I’ll call you
later,” he said at last, and then he could finally leave.

Escape into his
own space again, where it had always been safe.

Where he’d
always been free.

***

He made it home in a daze. Then
he got a beer and went to sit on his couch.

He didn’t drink
it, though. He just stared down at it for a long time, trying to pull his
thoughts together, trying not to hurt so much.

Finally, he
reached for his phone and hit a button.

“Caleb?” His
mother’s voice came on after three rings. “What’s wrong, honey? Is everything
all right?”

“Yeah. It’s
fine. I was just calling to say hi.”

“But it’s
Friday.” She still sounded deeply anxious.

He always
called on Wednesdays. He had for years. Plus, it was later in the evening than
he usually called.

“I know. I just
wanted to talk. How are you?” He couldn’t help but wonder if she knew that her
husband had cheated on her—so many times, for so many months.

She’d always
seemed to be happy.

“I’m great.
I’ve finally got around to cleaning out the big closet, so there’s stuff all
over the hall that I’m trying to organize.”

“What’s Dad up
to?”

There was a
note of dry laughter in her voice as she replied, “He’s having a man day today.
You know how he likes his space.”

“Yeah.”

All his life,
his father had taken “man days”—where he’d gone off and done his own thing.
Caleb had always thought it was perfect, a marriage where they weren’t always
tied to each other, where they each could still claim their freedom.

But his
father’s freedom wasn’t free. The cost was a little girl with a pillow over her
head.

Caleb started
to shake—with anger, with grief, with betrayal, with absolute disgust.

That man was
his father.

He didn’t want
to be that man.

“Honey,” his
mother’s voice began, very gently, on the phone, “Can you please tell me what’s
wrong?”

He couldn’t
speak. Couldn’t even begin to.

“Is everything
all right with Marissa?”

 “I don’t
know.”

“You love her,
don’t you?”

 “Yeah.”

“So what’s the
problem?”

The problem was
him.

“Did you know,”
he began, cold anger deepening inside him, compelling him to lash out, “that
Dad…”

She was silent
for a long time after his unfinished question. “That Dad what?”

“Nothing.”

He couldn’t say
it. He couldn’t lash out that way. Not for his father’s sake but for his mother’s.

“Can I say
something?” she asked, her voice different than it had been before.

“Yeah.”

“I know you
love her. So you should
let
yourself love her. All the way. It’s not
easy, but it’s the only way it can work.”

He had no idea
how she’d known to say that, but he understood it immediately. He took a few
shuddering breaths before he replied, “Yeah.”

They both were
silent for a long time.

Caleb thought
about Marissa—what she’d gone through as a child, what she’d been going through
for the last two months, trying to work through such long-standing wounds with
such courage and generosity.

Not just for
her, but for him. For
them
.

Then he
suddenly realized she was at home right now. By herself. Hurting.

He’d left her alone
when she needed him.

“I’m sorry,
Mom. I need to go. Marissa—”

“Of course. You
go on. I’ll talk to you on Wednesday.”

He said goodbye
and disconnected. Stared at his phone for about thirty seconds.

Then he jumped
up and headed back toward Marissa’s apartment, running down the stairs the way
he had on the anniversary of her father’s death because the elevator was just
too slow.

On his way
over, he called up Baron James and left him a message. He said he couldn’t do
the jazz band with him after all.

He didn’t want
or need the escape route anymore.