Page 10 of Pretty Please Me
“I think we’re safe for now, but the night is still young.” I tap my beer to hers. “Your turn, now spill.”
She clears her throat and tightens her grip on her purse strap. “Well, let’s see, where do I begin?” Her eyes dart around the bar like she’s searching for something… or someone. “I… well… I’m looking for someone to help me out with a problem I have. Someone who’s kind and gentle… and patient.” She pauses, pulling her sleeves to cover her hands.
“What, like a mechanic or something?”
“More like a tutor…” Her voice trails off, and she seems to be looking everywhere but at me.
I tilt my head. “You’re looking for a tutor? In a bar? Don’t you think–”
“It’s for sex!” She blurts.
My eyebrows jump up, and I jerk back in my seat, but she keeps going before I can get a word in.
“There’s this guy back home. I’ve always been in love with him. We have a history, but the timing was never right.” She spins her empty glass nervously as she talks. “He messaged me out of the blue and invited me to our high school reunion. He wants to go with me and hang out after…” She bites her lip and looks up at me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I… uh… I guess I don’t understand where the tutor comes in?”
Maggie rolls her eyes and huffs. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
I nod, encouraging her to keep going.
“Fine. I need someone to help me get better at sex.” She grabs my beer and takes a gulp, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve been told by several people that I’m not very good at it, and I don’t want to screw this up.”
I blink several times as I try to process this information. I don’t know what I thought she was going to tell me, but needed sex lessons weren’t anywhere on my bingo card. I’m going to need another drink for this.
I motion for our server to bring another round, then lace my fingers together as I study her. She’s so buttoned up and wound tight; I suppose I can see she may not be able to let herself loose in the bedroom, but I can’t be sure that’s the issue.
“What do you mean you’ve been told you’re not very good? Guys have actually said that to you?”
She tilts her head from side to side. “Not verbatim, but yeah.” She lets out a huff and looks off. “Last night, the guy compared me to accidentally eating spoiled milk in his favorite cereal…”
My fists clench as white-hot rage boils underneath my skin. How could any dumb fuck have the audacity to tell her something like that? I may not know firsthand, but I can take one look at her and tell you thatsheisn’t the problem. Any man would be lucky to even look at her, much lesstouchher.
I want to find that little dipshit and knock his teeth in for hurting her so badly that she felt like she needed to find someone to give her lessons when he’s the one who didn’t know what he was doing.
My nostrils flare as a wave of heat rises up my neck, and I force myself to ask the question brewing in my mind all night. “Do you enjoy having sex, Maggie?”
She stills in her seat and gives me a puzzled look. “Yeah, I mean. I guess. It’s fine.”
“Fine?”
“What’s wrong with fine?” She frustratedly pulls at her neatly pinned-back hair, and small tendrils fall around her face.
I bite my tongue, holding back all the things I want to say about how sex should be exhilarating, passionate, hot, greedy, erotic… anything but fine. Which can only mean one thing…
“Do you come every time you have sex?” The question leaves my lips before I can hold back.
Her face drops, and she begins twirling the small piece of hair that’s fallen. “Yeah, I mean, not everysingletime, but mostly.” She darts her gaze away, looking uncomfortable.
It’s blatantly obvious she’s lying… and therein lies the problem.
My lips quirk to the side, and I narrow my eyes. “You’re full of shit, Mags. It’s clear as day.” I lean forward and place each of my hands on the table. “Tell me this, have you ever had an orgasm with anyone you’ve been with? Because my guess would be that you haven’t, and you never tell them because you’re too nice to hurt anyone’s feelings…”
She sucks in a breath, goes completely still, then shakes her head ever so slightly.
I lean slowly back in my seat, “That’s what I thought.”
Suddenly, my collar feels restrictive as a curious arousal makes my every nerve stand on end. It’s a cruel form of torture knowing this about her when all I want to do is show her exactly what she’s missing. She doesn’t even realize she’s just served up my biggest kink on a silver platter, and I can’t fucking touch it. My mouth salivates at the thought of it. Like a shark with blood in the water.
