His expression reads “bullshit” but what he says is, “I wouldn’t charge you a thousand bucks for it either.”
A laugh stutters from my lips. I put my hands over my face and literally hide. He pulls them away, which brings him closer to me. I’m so humiliated I might spontaneously combust. I open one eyelid a crack and admit, “This is so embarrassing.”
“Wine. You’re overdue.”
I’ll say. He takes my purse and drops it on the couch, and then hands over the glass of wine he poured for me. Resigned to my fate, I accept. Clearly, he’s not going to let me exit his house before he’s given a reasonable explanation. Drunk was a convenient excuse but with that off the table, I find myself reaching for another. Insanity? Would insanity work?
I take an unladylike gulp of my wine. He notices.
“There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“What a relief,” I say, deadpan.
His laugh is rumbly and gentle. I wish I could vanish into thin air, but alas…
He pulls out a stool for me. I don’t want to sit, but arguing is futile. He settles onto the stool next to mine. “So this Rick guy left you sexually frustrated?”
“What? No!” I can’t help laughing at this entire absurd situation. Me, busted after Vivian suggested I seduce my boss-slash-best-friend who’s determined to continue the date’s postmortem in order to deduce the reasons behind my mentioning his hand in my pants.
Groan.
“Cheapskates who do nothing but talk about how smart they are, and brag about the awards they won at work don’t do it for me.”
“And I do?” He smirks. Before I can have a panic attack, he frowns. “Was he inappropriate with you?” He’s angry at the idea of Rick being improper with me, which makes my tummy grow as warm as my cheeks.
“No. He tried to kiss me, but when I refused he didn’t press.” What he did was shrug and say “whatever” before walking off my front porch. Then he loped back to his car and gunned the engine, his tires squealing as he sped down the street. I don’t mention that.
“And then you drove here.”
“Yeah. I thought it’d be nice to finish the night on a positive note.” My voice is small. The truth ekes out next. “It’s depressing to think I can’t meet anyone halfway decent.”
He consoles me, his voice gentle, but it takes me a second to unpack the sentences he says because they are not the ones I expect.
“You’re a woman with needs, Cris. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. All you have to do is ask. If that’s what you really want. Is what you said out there what you really want?” He tips his head toward the patio door, the pool’s cool violet lights glowing beyond.
I try to laugh, but a thin wheeze exits my throat.
“This doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Too late!” I try to sound offended. I’m not offended. I’m so turned on I’m in danger of setting off the smoke alarms.
“Sex is a basic need. If you meant what you said…” His non-question is more of a challenge.
“I was just…” Nothing comes after those words because I wasn’t just anything. I wasn’t kidding, even though I tried to convince Vivian that I was. I have been sexually frustrated for a number of years. I haven’t done much of anything with anyone to know what it would feel like to have relief from that frustration. Which is, well, frustrating. The prospect of a stranger’s hands on my body below the waist is terrifying. The thought of Benji’s hands down there…
Oh, this is such a bad idea.
“Drink your wine. I’ll give you an orgasm and then you can go home.” He shrugs. “You’ll feel better.”
Why, why does that sound so damn good?
“Wh-what about you?” I croak.
“What about me what?”
“Won’t you feel frustrated? More frustrated?” I ask on a strangled whisper as I glance at his lap. Not that I’m considering this, but I am curious.
His lips pull into a full-fledged Benji smile that never fails to weaken my knees. “Honey, giving you an orgasm would make my day.”