Page 30 of Captured Heart

“Well...” She’s hesitant to answer, and I know she’s probably playing with her little heart-shaped locket as she debates how much she wants to divulge. “I’ve tried missionary a few times, but that’s...about it.”

This isn’t a conversation I should be entertaining. I should be maintaining an adequate distance from the target and not indulging in an in-depth discussion about her sex life. But, shit, her inexperience has got me so curious now. I want to know exactly how much unchartered territory there is, how much of her is still unexplored.

“What about foreplay?” I ask. “Have you tried that?”

“Hm? Not really. I just think the whole concept of going down on someone is a bit...gross. For me personally, I’ve never even been fully naked in front of anyone. I’mreallyshy, and just the thought of someone doing that to me is mortifying. And for a guy...I guess, I’ve always thought that guys who were into that stuff were degenerates or...porn addicts because stuff like that only happens in porn, right? Real people in real relationshipsdon’t suck on...stuff, and then kiss each other on the mouth afterward, do they?”

She’s going to kill me. This girl is going to drive me off the steepest cliff. Listening to her say these things shouldn’t be turning me on as much as it is, but I’m sitting here fucking rock hard, just wishing I could have one night with her to prove her wrong abouteverything.

“Katie...” I bite into my knuckle to stifle a groan. “Of course, they do. It can be a very intimate, sensual thing that two people experience together.”

“But it’s so unsanitary.”

“Well...yeah. Sex is supposed to be a little...dirty.”

“It is? Really?” She’s silent for a long time. “When I told Jason I didn’t like all that stuff, he called me a stuck-up prude.”

I grit my teeth because I don’t want to keep hearing about her ex. What a way to kill a boner. “Fuck him.”

“I did!” she giggles. “And that’s what I got for handing my V-card to that douche. But I’m clearly the problem because I’m so rigid and stuck in my ways. Just from this short interaction, I got an answer to my question. The fact that I’m not willing to try new positionswouldbother you.”

Every cell in my body is screaming for me to end this. It’s gone too far, but I can’t stop talking to her. Her softness, her femininity—these are qualities I’m not used to, and they’re so addictive. I haven’t spoken to anyone like this in...ever.This kind of conversation is completely foreign to me. I’ve grown so accustomed to lies and deceit and betrayal that her unfiltered, unguarded nature appeals to the deepest, darkest part of me.

She opens up so easily, offers information like I’m worthy of her trust. I’m not. I’m the last person in the world she should trust. Somehow, I’ve thrown myself into a shitstorm here, and I’m just swirling in a thick sludge of guilt and shame and lust. I’m battling my attraction to this woman...and I’m losing.

“It wouldn’t bother me,” I say once I get my thoughts together, “but I’d want to know why.”

Again, she pauses, fearful of being judged. “I like being in control,” she admits softly. “It’s actually a need rather than a want. I need to control the movements, the pacing, the flow of events...everything. I feel...vulnerable when I’m not in control, and I absolutely hate that feeling.”

“Given what I know about you, that makes sense. I’m really not surprised.”

A frustrated groan comes through from the other end, as if she’s angry with herself. “Why did that make me feel so uptight and predictable?” Another annoyed whine. “What’s wrong with me, Alex?”

“Nothing. Maybe you just need to find a guy who understands what a control freak you are...and then forces you out of your comfort zone to get you to try new things.”

She thinks that over for a second. “Maybe you’re right. And I’m notthatuptight, you know. I’m sure I can be persuaded.”

“I’m sure you can, Rebel.”

She giggles at the jab, then soldiers on. “I just need to meet a man who understands me, and I’ll compromise and try not to be such a control freak.” Paper rustles in the background. “Ooh! I should make a list of all the qualities he needs to have.”

My eyebrows furrow together. “You understand the irony of what you just said, right?”

She must already be engrossed in the task because she ignores that completely. “Okay, I want someone who gets me. And I want someone who actually wants to connect on a deeper level. Not just surface stuff.” She pauses to scribble that down. “And he needs to be patient because I don’t think I’ll leave the comfort zone without a fight.”

“And he needs to have a sense of humor,” I offer, “because someone in the relationship has to be funny.”

“Alex...” She clears her throat, her tone becoming serious and condescending. “Just becauseyoulack the risibility to appreciate the comedic genius of Katelyn, the Droll Troll, that does not mean other people aren’t thoroughly entertained by my craft.”

“Oh, your craft?” I tease. “You know, I’ve yet to hearonegood joke from you.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I always have one prepared, just in case. I told you I’m still honing my craft, so it’s still a work-in-progress, but it slaps!”

“Alright. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, you ready?” Giggles are already spurting out of her, and she hasn’t even started. “Okay, why did the biochemist break up with his partner?”

Oh, this is going to be so corny. “Why?”

---