Page 32 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

I groan a bit too. It does feel good, but I don’t kid myself into thinking I’ll get more out of it than I am.

His elbows lock as he comes, grunting loudly as he rides the wave. His head slumps and he rolls to the side, breathing heavily.

How long do I let him lie there before kicking him out and giving myself the release I need? Because I’m wound as tight as a spring in a mattress factory.

He breathes out deeply. “Thanks for that.”

“Sure thing.”

He lifts his head. “Regan?”

“Mmm?”

“You faked it, didn’t you?”

Chapter Eleven

Lucas

“What? No…”

She turns away slightly. She’s lying.

“And you faked it last time.” I give her a nudge. “No judgment, remember. We can be ourselves here.”

An arm flies over her face, covering her embarrassment. “Okay, yeah.”

“Can I ask why?”

She laughs maniacally. “How much time do you have?”

I get rid of the condom and lie back on one of her pillows. “As it so happens, a lot.”

Her arm falls to the side of her head as she pulls a sheet over herself. “I thought you were too drunk to remember. Or was that just a ruse to get me back into bed?”

“I didn’t remember much at first. It was fuzzy. It came back to me slowly, but I just had this… feeling. About you faking it.”

She blows out a huge sigh. “I thought I’d perfected it.”

“Okay, wow.” I turn and prop up on an elbow. “I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse that I’m not the only one you faked it with.”

“There’s nothing to feel bad about. Some women just have a hard time.”

“I get it. But why make us think you got there when you didn’t? If you don’t give us a chance, it’ll never happen.”

“Men don’t get it.” She shakes her head. “There’s the point you get to where you’re all in your head. You’re thinking too much. Am I going to come? Why’s it taking so long? Is he getting bored? And once you reach that point, it’s pretty much over.”

“So you don’t even try? Not even with new guys?”

“Been there, done that.” She snorts. “I gave up hope a long time ago. It’s just easier this way, believe me.”

“So you’ve never?” I try to wrap my head around it. She’s thirty-five. What a fucking shame if it’s never happened for her.

“I have. I used to sometimes. Sparingly. Never during actual sex, but it happened. Not for well over a decade though.”

“Ten years?” I bolt up, staring down at her in the dim light. “You haven’t had an orgasm in over ten years?”

“Oh, I’ve had plenty. Just not with men.”

---