It was the world’s cruelest joke.
Goddammit.
Tears of frustration leaked from the corners of her eyes. A sob escaped her throat.
Blake stopped. The bed shifted as he moved up to face her. “Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” He sounded panicked.
Farrah shook her head. She kept her eyes closed, too mortified to look at him. Not only couldn’t she come, she was crying (and not from joy) in the middle of what was otherwise incredible oral sex. What was wrong with her?
“Farrah, look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She opened her eyes reluctantly. Concern etched Blake’s features, and his brows drew together into a deep V.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she hiccupped. She swiped her tears away. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
The mood was ruined. There was no use denying it.
“Don’t be sorry.” Blake lay next to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Shh. It’s ok.”
“It’s not you. It’s really not. I just—” Farrah sniffled. “I can’t, you know.”
He looked puzzled. “You can’t what?”
“I can’t…come.” She whispered the last word.
A pause, then Blake laughed. “Is that what you’re worried about? Farrah, I know it takes girls longer. It’s ok, we can—”
“No, I can’t come, period.” She kept her gaze lowered, afraid of his reaction. “I mean, I can by myself, but I’ve never been able to orgasm with a guy. Ever.”
This time the pause was more prolonged. “Well, you haven’t met anyone as talented as I am,” Blake joked in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.
Farrah managed a watery smile. “True.” The tears slowed, thank god. “Maybe it’s just oral. If we had sex, it might be different,” she said hopefully.
You hit different spots during intercourse, right? That could be it.
“We are not having sex like it’s a science experiment,” Blake said. “Not yet. Though I would love to see you in a lab coat getup one day.”
This time he got a weak laugh out of her.
“You know that saying: try, try again. We’ll keep trying till we get there. Once we do, we’ll move to the next base.”
Farrah frowned. Great. She was going to be a virgin for the rest of her life.
“Look on the bright side.” Blake kissed her forehead. “You’ll have me, Blake Ryan, at your full disposal. I’m basically your willing sex slave. No other girl can say that.”
“They better not.” Farrah bit her lip. “What if it’s me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”
Old fears resurfaced, threatening to drown her in their turbulent waters.
“There is nothing wrong with you.” Blake’s gaze turned fierce. “You’re perfect.”
“No one’s perfect.”
“You are. To me.”
Farrah buried her face in Blake’s chest, afraid he’d see how much his words affected her. She could feel his heart beating, a steady thump-thump-thump that forced those old fears to retreat.
But in their place came new ones that were even more insidious, because they were grounded in real