Page 37 of Not Faking it with the Colonel

“That’s, um, admirable,” Graham said.

“We were both brought up in the church and met through a campus ministry group in college, so we were both waiting for marriage. We dated for a year and a half before we got engaged. Being engaged, we justifieditwas okay not to wait any longer. Except, I got pregnant. Instead of having the church wedding we were planning, we had a small ceremony for family and a handful of friends on the beach.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Graham’s nonjudgmental attitude made her fall a little harder for him. “Rather than teach why it’s best to abstain, the churches I grew up in hammered home the message ‘Don’t do it. It’s bad. It’s dirty.’ Then all of a sudden, you’re married, and it’s like,Okay, its fine now.”

“Are you saying, you plan to wait until you’re married before—”

“No. I’m not saying that.” At all. “It’s just that between the church, the stigma in our social circles around getting pregnant outside of wedlock, and having a baby right away, we never had an exciting sex life. I don’t want to disappoint you when, or if, we . . .”

“You don’t have to worry about disappointing me. I can’t see that happening.”

She so hoped that was true. How did she say this tactfully? What did she have to lose by confessing this now? Not as much as she’d lost by never speaking up in her marriage. She took a breath. “I don’t know if it was physical or mental for me, but I rarely had an orgasm when we made love. But I want that. I’m telling you this because I have high expectations. And, if I don’t have an orgasm, I’m going to be really, really disappointed, especially since I’m having mini-ones every time I merely think about having sex with you.”

“That’s flattering,” he said through amused laughter.

“I’m not saying that I want things—kinky,” she referred back to what he had said, “but something more, uh, mind-blowing than missionary position in a dark bedroom.” Which didn’t cut it for her, and from what she’d read, that wasn’t uncommon. She didn’t see it doing it for an alpha military man, either. “I feel like I’ve missed out.” On a lot.

“It shouldn’t be that way,” he assured her.

“I know that now. Early in our marriage, I made the mistake of telling him something in front of my mother and sister that he took as criticism. He blew up at me later for disrespecting him in front of others.”

“Did he hurt you?” Graham’s voice sounded ominous, and his hands stilled.

“No. He never got violent or physical.”

“Good.” He resumed his tender massage.

“But, after that, I did whatever I could to avoid conflict. And did my best never to criticize him aloud. Which is why I never felt like I could tell him that our lovemaking left me unsatisfied.” And frustrated. And like a horrible person for fantasizing about more—with other men. The ‘harmless’ kind of fantasies about celebrity crushes she’d never meet.

Had they played a part in the failure of her marriage? Would things have turned out differently if, rather than settle, she had found a way to tell Phil that he wasn’t meeting her needs andshefelt like a failure in the bedroom? Or would she have hurt his pride, insulted his manhood, and made things worse?

Between the church and Phil, sex was a four-letter word and only ‘making love’ was acceptable and biblical. But she didn’t know better then. Now she was a mature woman, not a scared virgin. This time, she’d do things differently. Be more confident and adventurous. She had nothing to lose with Graham. She took another gulp of wine. “This week I bought a book . . .”

“You bought a book?” The amusement in his voice almost made her pause.

“Not the Karma Sutra, but a pocket guide to sex.”

“Oh. Maybe I should read this book too.” He pressed a kiss behind her ear. “Because, when we’re ready, I will make it my mission to ensure you aren’t disappointed.”

His hot breath rekindled the fire inside her as his hands slid down her arms, over her hips to her thighs.

“Abigail!” Noelle called as she descended her deck steps. “Oh. Sorry to interrupt.” Her attempt to sound casual was nearly comical as she peered over the hedges dividing the two yards.

Graham moved his hands to cover Erin’s as Noelle’s eyes widened as if they were doing something far more illicit than sitting fully clothed on a chaise.

“There you are.” Noelle ducked out of sight, reappearing with Abigail in her arms. “Have a nice night.” She stared at them briefly before carrying the dog back inside.

“She was peeking through the blinds a few minutes ago.” Erin had noticed them move.

“Abigail was probably at her feet the whole time. I might let those hedges grow higher.”

Erin chuckled. “She hasn’t seen anything gossip-worthy—yet.”

“But she is friends with Sally McKittrick, so anything she sees may get reported back. I don’t have a problem with that. In fact . . .” He pressed kisses to the side of Erin’s neck.

“You should keep doing that for her benefit.”

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