Page 5 of If You Could Only Believe
And, then, there was that one time when my father went after Shane and it took all my brothers to keep me from killing him. That’s when dear old Dad finally realized we weren’t little boys anymore and his quest to raise strong men resulted in raising unstable men, instead. Well, except for Aiden. Kinda.
I was also a virgin. Probably one of the few handful of 22-year-old male virgins walking the planet.
I wasn’t scared of women. I wasn’t gay and afraid to come out. I didn’t have self-conscious body issues. And my dick worked perfectly fine.
The problem was that our father spent a lot of our younger years warning us against the evils of women and all they’re capable of when they wanted to trap a man. The Buchanans had been, and still are, a legacy in our town and every girl in school knew what we were being groomed for. Many tried to get their hooks into us, but they all failed.
But I had been curious. So, I read a lot and watched a lot of porn. The porn had been standard and all it taught me was what went where, and that if you’re going to stick your cock in a girl’s ass, for the love of God, prepare her for it unless she was a porn star.
The reading had been what opened my eyes to the more important elements about sex.
The feelings.
The desires, the yearnings, the sensations and all the other experiences that went beyond just sticking your penis in a girl’s vagina.
The emotional part of sex is what had held me back. It’s what still holds me back. I know what it feels like to be consumed by so much emotion that you black out or lose all sense of yourself; to feel something so intense, that you can’t hold any of it in.
I was…worried-concernedthat any woman I might take to bed wouldn’t be able to handle my intense emotional reactions, and I’d frighten them away. And I didn’t want that to happen.
I liked women. I was attracted to women. But I was also very aware of what very different creatures they were from us men. I needed a woman who was strong enough to never be afraid to tell me what she was thinking or feeling. I needed a woman that would tell me if it was too much no matter how deep inside her body I was.
I needed someone who wasn’t afraid to stop me.
Looking around my new office, I wondered if I would ever meet such a creature.
Chapter 3
Sophia~
You know that time relevance thing? When it’s Monday and you don’t have enough time to catch up on everything from the weekend, so the clock is just tick away out of control. And then, when it’s Friday, and you just want week work to end, but the clock is not moving at all.
Well, it’s Friday, the day of the party, and guess what the clock is doing today? It’s moving faster than all get out, and I feel like I might have a full-blown panic attack before the day is over.
I couldn’t go anywhere without somebody talking about that stupid party. If I went to the restroom, there were ladies in there talking about how they couldn’t wait for tonight. If I went to the break room, there were people in there talking about how excited their spouses were to attend. If I went to the copier, there were people in there talking about mingling single at the party.
Everywhere.
I.
Went.
People.
Were.
Talking.
About.
That.
Damn.
Party!
In the meantime, I was one more party mention away from hanging my head between my knees and demanding someone get me a brown paper bag.
All-fast as hell-week, I’ve been trying to figure a way out of this. I mean, how would anyone even know if I didn’t show? Was there going to be a sign-up sheet? How would they find out if one of us didn’t show?
