by Lynne, Donya
Was she really going to confess her sexual shortcomings? Or not comings, as it were?
“What?” Abby said.
Trina gave her the mom look: head tilted, one brow slightly raised. “What’s going on, Emma?”
She sighed and bit her bottom lip. Once she revealed the truth out loud, she would never be able to take it back. It would be out in the world forever, and she would have to trust that her sisters would understand and not tease her. But she’d already come this far. She couldn’t just say nothing.
She dropped her gaze and issued a soft, pathetic laugh. “I’ve, uh . . .” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ve never had an orgasm during sex.”
Her sisters softly sucked in their breath, their visceral response vibrating the air.
“Never?” The word breathed out of Trina on a wave of surprised realization.
Emma shook her head. “Never.”
“Oh, Emma.” Abby moved from her lounge chair to Emma’s and wrapped her arm around her shoulders as she settled in beside her. “I’m sorry. And here Trina and I have been going on and on about Kevin and Nate.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Trina added.
“Like what?” Emma said. “That I’m a lousy lay? That I suck at sex?”
There was Trina’s mom look again. Her future kids were going to come to fear that look. “You do not suck at sex, and you’re not a lousy lay.”
“Well, I’ve got an orgasmically challenged vagina that says otherwise.”
Trina forced herself not to smile at Emma’s colorful description, then leaned forward and patted her on the leg. “You are not ‘orgasmically challenged.’ Plenty of women can’t come during sex.”
“That’s right,” Abby added. “It says right here”—she held up her phone—“that forty percent of single women can’t have an orgasm during sex.” She paused to read further. “And only fifty percent of all women said they can.” She looked up at Trina. “So count yourself lucky, Treen.”
Great, Emma’s sisters were high achievers, and she was down in the bottom fifty percent of the unluckiest women on the planet.
“You just haven’t had sex with the right man yet,” Trina said, squeezing her hand.
Emma gave her a dubious look. “The right man?” As accustomed as she had become to her rabbit-ear vibrator to give her pleasure, she would need a man with a vibrating penis and a protrusion that massaged her clit for him to be the “right” one.
Trina crossed one of her long, tan legs over the other and leaned forward. “Do you know how many toads I had sex with before I met Kevin?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Seven.”
Emma hadn’t realized Trina had slept with that many men.
“Starting with Marcus,” Trina added, “I slept with seven duds before I finally met the prince who could set off fireworks in my vag with a simple flick of his finger.” She glanced toward Kevin, smiled fondly, then returned her gaze to Emma’s. “And once you find your prince, he’ll do the same for you.”
Abby lowered her phone and gave Emma’s leg a pat just above the knee. “And he doesn’t even have to be your prince.” She shot Trina a quirky smile. “He could be like Nate. He wasn’t my prince, but damn, that man could fuck.”
A loud cheer rang out from the volleyball game, grabbing the sisters’ attention.
Looked like Theo had just scored a huge point with a spike worthy of the Olympics.
Abby slid her sunglasses down her nose. “Speaking of fucking . . .” She made a low, appreciative noise. “There’s a man who looks like he would be great in bed.”
“Who?” Trina asked.
“Theo.”
Emma stiffened as a cold chill swept down her back. She didn’t want her prettier and more outgoing little sister to set her sights on the same man she’d already taken a shine to, or she would have zero chance with him.
Abby fanned herself with her hand. “I had no idea he looked that good under his clothes. I bet he could put a big smile on a woman’s face.”
This was all Emma needed. Abby making a move on Theo while she was forced to watch.
“You have no idea,” Trina said, keeping her voice quiet despite the excitement buzzing over her words.
Abby’s head swung around. “What do you mean?”
Trina held up her hand as if to tell them both to get ready to have their minds blown. “From what Kevin has told me, Theo is some kind of legend.”
Abby’s eyebrows leaped upward. “Legend?”
“Oh yeah.” Trina nodded emphatically. “A few months after Kevin and I started dating, the three of us went to this club where Kevin’s favorite band was playing. Some woman Theo used to date was there and asked him to dance. The way she looked at him was so strange, like he had total control over her body, and all he had to do was tell her to come, and she would. The sexual vibes were off the chart.”
Abby hung on every word, but Emma’s stomach knotted with dread. Had she really thought she had a chance with Theo? He could have any woman he wanted, so why would he want her?
“It was all just so weird,” Trina continued. “I asked Kevin what her deal was, and he told me that Theo was some kind of sexual virtuoso. Apparently, the guy has skills. Serious skills. The kind of skills that make women lose control.” She shrugged as if even she couldn’t believe he was that good but had no reason to doubt what Kevin had told her. “I guess he made a woman cry once because the sex was so good.”
Abby’s eyebrows rose, and her mouth fell open. “Cry?”
“That’s what Kevin said. He could hear the woman through the wall that separated his bedroom from Theo’s and said she came at least six times, and between each orgasm, she sounded almost delirious, praising God and sobbing uncontrollably, begging Theo not to stop.”
“Wow.” Abby drew the word out on a whispering exhale.
“Yeah,” Trina said, just as dreamily. “Like I said, the man’s got skills.”
Emma felt like she might throw up.
The three of them stared at Theo for several long, dazed moments as he dug down and popped the ball up for Kevin to spike it over the net, then hopped up and rushed forward to block.
Then Emma felt her sisters slowly draw their attention back to her.
Emma glanced back and forth between them. “What?” They were looking at her like mad scientists plotting to bring her vagina back from the dead.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Abby said to Trina, grinning.
“I think so,” Trina answered, her eyes twinkling as her gaze slid in the direction of the volleyball court.
Emma began to shake her head, sensing where this was going. No. No way would she let them—
Abby snatched Emma’s hand and squeezed it like she and Trina had devised the most wonderful plan ever. “We’re going to hook you up with Theo.”
Emma’s eyes flashed open wide, and she tore her hand from Abby’s. “No.” She was not in junior high. She didn’t need her sisters or anyone else playing go-between. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” Abby said. “And don’t tell me you’re not attracted to him, because”—she bobbed her chin in Theo’s direction—“there is no way you can’t be attracted to that.”
“I know she finds him attractive,” Trina added before Emma could deny it.
“How would you know that?” Emma asked, a little more defensively than she had intended.
“Because I’ve seen how you look at him when we’re all together.”
Busted.
And Emma thought she’d been so discreet. Leave it to Trina to see all, know all.
“So what if I think he’s attractive? He’s way out of my league.”
Theo—a.k.a. Theodore Lucas Vandenburg III—was the heir to the Vandenburg family fortune. For three generations, the Vandenburgs had held a prominent role in North Carolina’s financial infrastructure, first as cotton farmers, now as real estate moguls that invested in and developed properties all over the world. Theo’s fa
mily had produced three congressmen, two senators, two professional athletes, and one prima ballerina who danced for the New York City Ballet.
Emma was lucky just to be moving in the same social circle as Theo. Even now, his private security hovered at points all around them, watching the volleyball match closely for any signs of trouble that would require their specialized intervention.
“He is not out of your league,” Trina said, in the same older-sister chastising tone Emma had been subjected to all her life. “And you know he likes you, right?”
Her eyes shot toward Theo. “What? No.”
It was cruel for Trina to even joke about something like that.
“Seriously, Em, are you blind? It’s so obvious. I thought you knew.”
If it was so obvious, how had Emma missed it? “This isn’t funny, Treen.”
Trina had always been a practical joker. As a kid, Emma had been one of Trina’s favorite targets, and she had learned to keep one eye looking over her shoulder lest she fall prey to another of Trina’s pranks. She’d thought Trina had outgrown such silliness. Apparently not if she was trying to make Emma believe Theo had the hots for her.
“I’m not trying to be funny,” Trina said. “I’m serious. Why do you think he always tags along when you, Kevin, and I go out?”
Now it was Emma’s turn to give Trina the mom look. “Because he’s Kevin’s best friend. Duh.”
“He’s been Kevin’s best friend since they were kids, but he didn’t start joining us on our group dates until after you and Chad broke up in October.”
Emma thought back over all the times she’d gone out with Kevin and Trina.
She and Chad had double-dated with them countless times all year, despite Trina’s less than stellar opinion of him. Then Emma met Theo on the Fourth of July, sans Chad, who had come down with food poisoning and stayed home. Less than two weeks later, Theo showed up with Kevin and Trina when they all went to an outdoor concert together. That was the night Theo met Chad. She didn’t see Theo again until Trina’s Halloween party in October, where he’d been dressed as Jack Sparrow and she’d been dressed as a red-robed woman from The Handmaid’s Tale.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he had asked.
“We broke up last week,” she had replied.
“Just last week?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
But had he been? Sorry? Thinking back, he hadn’t sounded sorry at all. In fact, he had seemed to perk up when she said she and Chad were no longer together, as if he was pleased by her newly single status.
After that, Theo became a regular when she, Trina, and Kevin got together, tagging along, as Trina had said, almost every time they went out. She’d seen Theo at least a dozen times in the last two months. In the previous four, she’d only seen him twice.
Emma’s mouth fell open, and she looked back at the guys just as Theo leaped and spiked the ball past the outstretched hands of his opponent, his body glistening with sweat.
“He’s never said anything.” Dumbfounded, she looked at Trina as if seeking confirmation that she was sure about this. “If he’s so into me, why hasn’t he said something?”
“My guess is that he wanted to give you time to get over Chad. Plus, he’d been seeing some woman on and off for months. After he learned about you and Chad, though, he broke things off with her completely. He hasn’t dated anyone since.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I think he just wanted the waters to calm down for both of you before he made his move.”
“The waters are calm!” Emma said, practically yelling. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”
Trina laughed. “I thought you didn’t believe me.”
Emma scowled at her. “Well, now I do, okay?” How could she not when the evidence had been in her face for two months. She had just missed it.
Trina took her hand. “Look, Theo has to be careful. A lot of women are only after his money, and because of his skills, he’s had a couple of exes get stalkerish after he broke up with them. You can’t blame him for wanting to take his time to make sure you’re not a psycho before he asks you out. Just give him time, Em. He’s definitely into you. And I think the wait will be worth it.”
“Yeah . . .” Abby rejoined the conversation, as perky as ever. “And then you can tell us all about his skills once he rocks your world. Who knows, maybe he’ll even make you squirt.”
Emma didn’t know if any worlds would be rocked or if she would ever be able to squirt—with Theo or anyone else—but Theo did make for the ultimate test, didn’t he? If a man who could make women cry from his mastery over their sex organs couldn’t make Emma find the pot of orgasmic gold at the end of the copulation rainbow, she would have the answer to the ten-million-dollar question: Was it her, or was it the men she’d dated who had failed her?
With any luck, she would find out before she flew back to North Carolina in three weeks.
But she wasn’t going to hold her breath.
Chapter Three
That night, the six of them went out to dinner and then found a party in town at a bar called Mandala. Dozens of disco balls covered the ceiling, crystal chandeliers hung by the DJ stage, and a huge Hindu multiarmed statue adorned the wall behind the bar. Black lights interspersed throughout the club turned Theo’s white shirt neon purple every time he got close to one.
They drank and toasted to the end of another year, as well as new beginnings. They danced, doing their best to keep up with the salsa beats and relaxing into the slower songs. But not once during the evening did Theo come on to her. He was as congenial as ever, the perfect gentleman.
Except now that Emma had talked to her sisters, she was conscious of just how attentive he was behind all that chivalry. He may not have been outwardly vocal about how he felt, but he ordered drinks for her, stayed by her side, and guided her through the crowd with his hand pressed intimately against the small of her back. And when they danced, he stood a little closer, held her hand a little more tenderly, and looked into her eyes like he wanted so much more.
Then the night was over, and they returned to the beach house.
The next day, the six of them took out his family’s luxury yacht and cruised down to the Arch of Cabo San Lucas and Lovers Beach, where they swam and ate lunch before returning to the yacht to spend the rest of the day traveling up and down the coast, sunning themselves, drinking cocktails, and eating fresh fruit, hors d’oeuvres, and a crab and lobster dinner prepared by a five-star chef. They headed for home well after nightfall.
Back at the beach house, Emma passed out as soon as her head hit her pillow, but less than five hours later, at four in the morning, she was wide awake. She had always been an early riser, and back home, where it was already six o’clock, she would have been dressed for work and about to head out the door.
She wasn’t getting any more sleep, so she got up, showered, and put on an ankle-length boho sundress over one of the dozen bikinis she’d brought with her, then went downstairs and started a pot of coffee.
The house was pleasantly quiet, as was the beach when she stepped outside to wait for the coffee to brew. Emma had always loved the peaceful moments before dawn. It gave her time with her thoughts. Time she often didn’t get in a fast-paced nine-to-five world. Or, in her case, more like seven-to-seven world. Harrison Devereaux was a high-octane man to work for, with spits turning over multiple fires, and it was her job to keep them all going so none of them went up in flames. To say multitasking was her most important job skill was an understatement.
Thank God Harrison’s daughter had a friend who had offered to fill in for her so she could take this much-needed extended vacation with her sisters. She needed the break to recharge her battery.
And that was enough thinking about work. She didn’t need for her mind to be back with her boss and the pile of files on her desk when she was in paradise.
Once the coffee finished brewing, she filled a mug, poured in some hazelnut creamer, followed b
y a heavy splash of french vanilla—her own flavor combination, which she’d been drinking for ages—then returned to the patio overlooking the infinity pool and the ocean beyond.
Back home, she would have had to wear a winter coat to go outside, but here in Cabo, even the early morning temperatures were warm enough for her spaghetti-strapped sundress.
Eyeing the infinity pool, she smiled to herself. She’d never gone swimming in the morning before.
She set her coffee on the slightly raised ledge of the pool, then pulled off her dress and tossed it onto one of the minimalist nuevo-style loungers nearby. Sitting on the pool’s edge, her legs sank into the water up to her knees. It was cool, but not chilly. She pushed herself in, sinking up to her chest. The pool wasn’t very deep, about four and a half feet. Just deep enough that you could swim in it, but also just hang out with a cold drink on a hot day.
She grabbed her mug of coffee and made her way to the infinity edge overlooking the beach, where she rested her forearms and stared out at the shallow white caps washing over the sand.
This was the life. The life of the one percent. How Emma had found herself here was anyone’s guess, but she wasn’t going to question it. Instead, she would be grateful for the experience and print out plenty of pictures to paste into her vision book back home.
Yes, she kept a vision book. Others called it an affirmation book or a dream book. You know, a book that held pictures representing all the things she was striving to achieve.
Her vision book was based on the affirmation “I surrender my desires, and I know the universe has my back.” The idea was that you said to the universe, “Here’s everything I want,” then you handed it all over and trusted that in divine right timing, the universe would deliver everything to you.
Emma’s vision book was her way of embodying that affirmation.
And one day, when she had paid her dues, all her dreams would come back to her. That was the idea, anyway. She didn’t know if it would actually happen, but she didn’t need to know. She just needed to have faith and go about her life, and everything would work out just as it was meant to.