Page 65 of Bedroom Therapy

Chapter Twelve

Her lips set in a grim line, Amanda opened another letter. It was from a woman whose new husband was going out with the boys every night.

She could answer that one, but it sounded more like a question for Dear Abby.

The next letter was more promising.

Dear Esther, my husband and I have been married for a year, and I think we have a very good sexual relationship, except for one complaint that I hear from time to time.

He’s always the one who asks for sex. He’s the one who decides what we’re going to do. We always have a good time together in the bedroom. But he says he’d like for me to initiate some of the things we do. Maybe I’m shy. Maybe I’m old-fashioned. Maybe I’m afraid that he won’t like my ideas. But I’m more comfortable letting him make the first move. Can you give me any suggestions for how to change this situation?

Old-fashioned wife.

Amanda read the letter again. Well, she’d finally found a problem that was easy to address. And it was probably something that troubled a lot of women.

“Dear Old-fashioned,” she began. “Don’t be shy about telling your husband what you want. He’s obviously anxious for you to show him how much you want him by making the first move. And don’t be afraid that he’ll think less of you for initiating a sexual encounter. More likely, he’ll be thrilled if you come to him and tell him what you’d like to do together.”

Amanda sat back and read through her answer. It was good enough, she supposed. But she had the feeling there was more she could say.

While she was in the middle of trying to augment the answer, her hands stopped moving on the computer keys.

She was trying to make this woman feel comfortable with initiating sexual encounters. Maybe she should be taking her own advice.

Zach had wondered aloud whether she had enough sexual experience to write an advice column. She’d assured him that she did, although privately she’d admitted that there were a lot of things she hadn’t done. Of course, that list was a bit shorter since she’d met him. She’d gained some memorable experience, but everything they had done together had been his idea.

His wanting to do those things with her was arousing, she admitted, since she was trying to be totally honest with herself. She couldn’t think about any of their encounters without getting turned on.

And last night he’d gone to considerable effort to set up a scene that obviously fulfilled one of his very erotic fantasies.

She’d gone along with him, because she wanted to connect with him on an intimate level. More than that, although she’d been hesitant at first, she’d had the courage to admit that she found the idea he’d described exciting.

Still, none of the things they’d done together had come from her own imagination. Maybe because she was too down-to-earth to have more than the most basic fantasies. She’d never thought about setting up a room like a love cave. Or thinking about what she was going to wear in that very erotic setting.

Perhaps it was time for her to be a little bolder in their relationship.

Of course, there was danger in going that route. What if her fantasies totally turned him off?

Well, better to find out now than later.

She knew a look of determination was plastered on her face as she shoved the letters back into the canvas sack where they’d come from, then saved her file and turned off her computer.

“Lighten up,” she murmured to herself. “This is supposed to be fun.”

Right. Fun. Still, her mouth turned dry as she walked down the hall and glanced at the closed door to Zach’s room. She might have paused there, but she knew he was probably listening to her footsteps. Sailing on past, she entered her own room, where she quietly closed the door behind her and switched on the overhead light.

Ignoring her own jumping nerves, she looked around the room, then crossed to the bed. First she folded up the sheet and blanket that he’d covered them with the night before. Then she shook out his beautiful comforter and straightened it on the bed.

Next she tackled the mound of pillows, fluffing some up and moving others to the side and out of the way. The bed was still opulent looking but better designed for more conventional lovemaking. Which was what she had in mind this time around.

She didn’t allow herself to think about what it would mean if Zach refused to have intercourse with her. She simply went about trying to make it happen.

Her throat tightened. Was she setting herself up for disappointment? She was betting that wasn’t going to be true.

She liked the room Zach had created, and she left most of his romantic touches intact. Like the lamp with the scarf over it.

First she crossed to the windows and closed the blinds. Then she turned on the lamp and switched off the overhead light, pleased with the romantic effect it created.

But not yet. When she got Zach in here, she didn’t want him to know she was setting anything up. Switching on the overhead light again, she finished her preparations.

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