Page 52 of River
CHAPTER 14
Sleeping with River
Noah
My surfing was shit because it was impossible to focus on anything other than the minutes ticking down until I could go to River’s hotel.
I was terrified that I’d mess it up by pushing her too far but determined to help her overcome her fear of intimacy. Over these last days, I’d felt her warm up and relax around me. Our kisses had become bold and passionate, and I sensed that right beneath that initial unease she carried, River hid an intense sensuality.
It still blew my mind that someone like River was so reluctant to have sex. From the photos of her and Storm Johnson that I’d seen online, they had looked like a couple who enjoyed marathon sex sessions.
At precisely nine o'clock, I showed up at River’s hotel with a vase of flowers in my hand.
“Aww, that’s sweet of you,” River said and opened her door to me.
I could tell she was nervous, so when she placed the flowers on the desk in the room, I walked over to hug her from behind. “Don’t be scared. It’s me. You know you can trust me.”
“I just don’t want you to think I can…”
“Hey, stop overthinking this. You told me no sex in Bali. I’m here to cuddle. Nothing else.”
In the back of my mind, a small voice whispered,Liar.Of course, I hoped that River would change her mind, or I wouldn’t have brought condoms, but no matter what, it would happen on her conditions.
We watched a movie in bed with her propped up against my chest. I couldn’t follow the plot since I was fighting my need to touch and kiss her. If only I could find a way to make her not be scared.
“River, do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
“What questions?”
“It’s just a little confusing to me why you’re so nervous when it comes to intimacy. You said that you’d made out with some of your boyfriends in the past. How far did you go?”
She hesitated before she muted the TV and turned to me. “You want to know if I’m a virgin.”
“Mhmm.”
“No, I’m not a virgin.” She looked down. “In the beginning, when I began dating, I thought my reluctance to have sex was plain nervousness. My first two relationships broke because I wouldn’t go all the way, and so with my third boyfriend, I gave in after four months of dating. I had just turned nineteen, and he was very gentle.”
“Did you like it?”
River looked thoughtful. “It was over quickly, but it left me with a feeling of wanting to scrub his touch and scent off me in hot water. I knew that couldn’t be normal.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No. I told my therapist, and she helped me realize that I might have a suppressed trauma from my childhood.”
“You think you were molested?” The word felt like a burning piece of coal in my mouth.
“I have no memory of it, but it’s possible with the way my body reacts to sex.”
“Have you had sex after that time?”
“Yes, but every time it’s been because of pressure and I’ve been tolerating it more than anything.”
“So, you’ve never enjoyed the act?”
“No.” There was a deep sadness coming from her. “I’ve had orgasms, though.”
My brow rose. “You have? How? If you didn’t enjoy it, how could you orgasm?”
