“I can’t come easily durin’ sex. It takes me a long time to get there and after a while, they stop tryin’ and finish without me. When I mention it, they tell me it’s my fault. Although I can do it myself or with a toy.”
I blink harder this time to make sure I’m not the drunk one hearing things. “Your exes didn’t make you come, then blamed you?”
“Mm-hmm. So I suspect Jackson will do the same,” she says in an adorable sleepy voice that almost sounds like she’s given up hope. “I used to fake it but then realized if I never said anythin’ they wouldn’t know. Turns out they didn’t care either way.”
“Posey, that’s…” I try to find the right words but I’m still in shock at how honest she’s being. Sober Posey would never admit this to me. “Those aren’t men you were datin’. They were boys who only cared about their own pleasure. It’s better you didn’t stay with ’em.”
“You made me come durin’ my first time,” she confesses, and it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine and straight to my balls. “And I knew most women don’t their first times so I wasn’t expectin’ to either but the way you talked me through it had me seein’ stars and gasping for air. I guess that’s partly why I hated you so much. You ruined all other men after you moved on without me.”
I feel like a bigger bag of shit than I did before when she thought I’d forgotten about our night. Even worse when I started dating someone new and told her I needed to give that relationship a chance instead.
Though I don’t know why she can’t orgasm during sex with other men, a hint of pride puffs in my chest knowing I made her come for the first time and set the standard.
Now, I need to figure out how to help her fix it.
chapter nine
Posey
I hate throwingup with a passion. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve rushed to the bathroom to empty my stomach, but each time I do, Silas is there with water and a cold washcloth.
He tried holding my hair out of my face for me, but after the second time, I kicked him out of the bathroom. I’m mortified enough as it is, I don’t need him to watch me at my worst.
“I brought you a few crackers and broth,” Silas says, entering my room with a bowl in one hand and a small plate in the other.
“No way I can eat right now…” I groan, pulling the blankets up and covering my mouth.
“You need to get somethin’ in your stomach to soak up all the acid.” He sits on the bed next to me. “It’ll help. Plus, you haven’t thrown up in an hour. You might finally be done.”
Reluctantly, I pull myself up and lean against the headboard. I can barely open my eyes all the way but take one of the crackers he holds up.
“You better never mention this to anyone, got it?” I take a bite, hating every second of chewing it. My head’s been pounding all morning and the movement makes it throb harder.
He chuckles, holding up the bowl and spoon. “Open up.”
I do as I’m told and swallow it down. “That’s nasty.”
“Says the person who threw up on herself…” He smirks, holding up another spoonful.
“I really hate you right now,” I mutter, letting him feed me again but grunt at the awful dull flavor.
“Eat this.” He gives me another cracker. “Then you can go back to sleep.”
“I need a shower. That might make me feel better,” I say, slowly chewing.
“Think you can stand that long? Maybe a bath would be better?”
“Fine.” I don’t bother arguing because he’s probably right. “I’ve never been this sick from a night of drinkin’ before.”
“I’m startin’ to wonder if you have the flu or some kind of stomach bug.” He presses his palm to my forehead. “You’re not feverish though.”
“I hope not. I don’t have time for that shit,” I groan, rubbing my temples.
We have another busy week with getting orders sent out and more wholesale to deliver. Amaya can work on her own if she needs to, but it’ll dramatically slow us down without both of us.
He sets the bowl on my nightstand. “I’ll get the water ready, then come get ya.”
“Silas, wait.” He stands, then freezes and stares at me. “Thank you. I know I’m a big baby when I’m not feelin’ well andnot good at lettin’ people help me. So, thanks for puttin’ up with me and makin’ sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit.”