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“I don’t see the big deal, Reece. It’s just a hookup.”
My hands tensed around the steering wheel. So much for being asleep. “Just rest. We’ll talk about this when you’re sober.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her fiddling with the silver ring in her nose. A muscle in her jaw quivered. Her voice slurred. “It’s me, isn’t it? Sean said no man wants a woman like me.”
My chest contracted. This wasn’t an appropriate conversation, but I couldn’t leave something like that hanging. “It’s not you, and he shouldn’t have said that. That must have been hurtful to hear.”
“He doesn’t care about hurting me. He hurts me all the time…”
The back of my neck itched. Hurt her in what way? The silence stretched between us. I let it, until it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything. I shouldn’t have been pressing her when she was drunk, but I couldn’t let that stand.
“He hurts you. What do you mean?”
She snorted and shook her head. “He’s awful. He said all these horrible things to me. He made me feel so bad about myself. When we…” She grimaced and kept her eyes on her hands twisting in her lap. “Whenever we are… intimate… he calls me all these horrible names. He’s never tried to make it feel good and then blames me, like it’s my fault I can’t…”
My chest tightened. The ache in my neck became unbearable.
“Every single time, I have to fake it. I’ve got so good at faking, I should get an Oscar.”
“Fake what?”
“I can’t… get there with Sean.” She pressed her forehead to the passenger window. “Seven years of faking orgasms. It’s not normal. I’ve seen gynecologists. They can’t find anything physically wrong with me. I just can’t… get to the finish line.”
I’d had clients like this before. Women who felt sad and dysfunctional because they couldn’t get off with a partner that didn’t know how to satisfy them. So many men were clueless. I should have kept quiet. She was only telling me this because she was drunk. But I couldn’t have her sit there feeling bad about something like this.
“Can you get there on your own? Because if you can climax on your own, then this is one hundred percent a Sean Wallace issue and not a you issue.”
“What do you mean?”
“Has he ever taken the time to figure out what you like? What stimulation you need? What turns you on…?”
She let out a roar of drunken laughter. “As if. We’ve been together since school. Nothing’s changed. It started as a fumble in the dark and it’s not got much better. Foreplay isn’t in his vocabulary.”
“Have you asked him for what you need?”
Her head sagged forward. Her voice was tired and thin. “There’s no point. He doesn’t listen. I’ve given up.”
More evidence that Sean Wallace was a prick. I’d be hard-pressed to think of anything more appealing than getting Skylar Marshall between the sheets and learning how to make her come so hard her toes curled and she had to bite down on the pillow. Why hadn’t he bothered to find out? Experimenting would be part of the fun.
Stop. Inappropriate train of thought. This whole conversation is inappropriate.
Yet still I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Good sex comes from good communication and knowing what you want. A lot of men are under the misconception that all women orgasm through vaginal penetration alone. I can refer you to a sex therapist friend of mine.”
She let out a sudden bark of laughter.
“Is something amusing?”
“I’ve just never heard the words vaginal penetration come out of a man’s mouth before. Sean looks like he’s going to faint if I dare to mention I’m on my period.” Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I don’t need a sex therapist. That’s too much. I don’t need anything like that. I don’t want to talk to anyone else. I only trust you.” She dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’m a lost cause. I just can’t relax enough. I can’t even do it on my own.”
“It might take time. You have to be patient with yourself.”
“I’ve almost managed to get there a couple of times lately.”
“What was different about those times?”
She chewed the skin around her thumbnail and shot me a thoughtful glance. “I was thinking about different things.”
I felt her heated gaze burning into me and I clamped my mouth shut. As much as I wanted to hear about Skylar Marshall getting herself off, it wasn’t an appropriate line of questioning. I stopped the car outside her house, but I didn’t turn the engine off.
