“I hope you’re not basing your experiences now on what you saw then?”
She grimaces. “No, not really.”
“Jesus, Katee.” I sit up a little straighter. “You are, aren’t you?”
She averts her gaze, nibbles her cracker. “Uh…no.”
“Real life sex shouldn’t be like what you see in porn. On the screen, it’s usually wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.” I hope to fuck the men she’s been with have done right by her, putting her needs above their own, and cherishing her like she deserves. But as I think about that, rage prowls through my blood. I cannot, for one second, think about another man with his hands or mouth on her.
She blinks up at me. “I just…that’s how I learned to give a proper blow job.”
Kill me. Fucking. Now.
“You’re telling me you give porn star blow jobs?”
She puts her hand over her mouth and giggles some more. “I don’t know if I’d classify the
m as porn star blow jobs.” She grabs her pillow and covers her face to hide her embarrassment. “I used to think you had to blow on a guy. Like actually blow on him.” Her voice is muffled through the pillow and for a second I wonder if I heard her right. “I’m so glad we watched that movie. I would have made a complete fool out of myself.”
As I try to dispel the image of another man’s cock in her mouth, I take the pillow away. “You could have searched it on the internet to learn how it was done. Or asked me.”
She gives a fast shake of her head, her brown eyes big and horrified. “My mother used to borrow my laptop. I couldn’t risk her or anyone seeing what I was searching for, and I wasn’t about to ask you.”
“Why not?” Without thinking it through, I jump from the bed, fish my laptop out of my carry-on bag and settle down next to her, closer this time. I wait for her to answer my question, and when she doesn’t, I continue with, “Did you at least learn about what physical things you liked in bed from watching porn?” Leave it to Katee to be concerned about a man’s pleasure before her own.
She tosses another oyster into her mouth. “No. I learned that from touching myself.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she makes an ‘eeping’ sound, and grabs the pillow again. With my cock jumping in my pants, I pull it away, and my gaze rakes over her face. Jesus, she’s so sexy when she blushes.
“Don’t be shy with me,” I say. “I’m not a real guy, remember.” Shit, what am I doing? She’s my best friend and she trusts me. I shouldn’t be using our closeness to find out about her sex life. But there is a part of me that wants to make sure she’s getting what she needs in the bedroom. Too bad the other part is the guy who wants to give it to you.
“I know, but we don’t usually talk about sex.” She wipes the corners of her mouth. “I think the oysters are loosening my tongue.”
I hand her another one.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I pull up my favorite porn site.
“We’re going to watch porn.”
She sits up a little straighter. “We are?”
I give a casual shrug, even though nothing about this situation feels casual. “Sure, why not?”
“Ah, because…I’m not sixteen anymore.”
“You’re my best friend, and there are a lot of assholes out there. I just want to make sure your expectations are on target.”
“Look, I get porn is just about the physical act, and it supposedly feels different when emotions are involved.”
“Yeah, there’s a difference,” I say, even though I’ve never experienced it firsthand. “But I just want you to know that any guy who is with you should put you on a pedestal and treat you right in the bedroom. Even without the emotions, I need to make sure you know what ‘treating you right’ really means.”
She whistles and gives a slow shake of her head. “My God, Arianna is one lucky woman.”
My stomach drops. Fuck man, I wish I could tell Katee the truth. She deserves that from me, but I’m a guy of my word and I gave my word to Arianna. One week. One week of silence. After Ari comes to her senses and I make a clean break, I’ll tell Katee everything.
Will you tell her how you feel?
I’m not sure, but until then, we’ll watch a little porn, and ride out our week here, away from the public eye and the scrutiny. Ari is a beloved socialite, and I can just imagine the shit that’s being said about me. But here on the slopes, I don’t expect anyone to know me, so I can relax and enjoy the anonymity for a change. I hit the play button and move the near empty plate of food out of our way to be even closer to her. Our legs touch, and my entire body tenses. I silently curse under my breath. How the hell am I going to make it a week—a night—sharing this bed without putting my hands and mouth all over her?
She eyes me, and I hold my breath. Has she finally woken up, become aware of what her touch does to me? Is she going to call me out on that?