by Boone, Azure
She needed to keep an eye on Mr. Tactical Maneuvers and not let him get the upper hand. Damn personal information exchange she’d submitted to. Why was this hard with him? Was it really because he was gorgeous? Was she really that pathetic? Shallow? Now was so not a good time to become a hormonal teenager. She’d gotten past that miserable disappointment. Oh hell. She needed to damn well make sure he never found out she was still a virgin. How horrific.
She set the tray down on the table outside, preparing to take back control.
“Can I ask you one more personal question?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Depends.” She busied herself with making her coffee and his. “Cream and sugar?”
“One of each, please. But do you think it’s bad to be my age…and be a virgin?”
She froze, staring at him. Couldn’t be. No way. “Of course I don’t,” she managed casually. “A person’s sexuality is an extremely sensitive thing. I would hope one would never feel the need to give that part of themselves for the wrong reason.”
“Wrong reason?”
She stirred her coffee and banged the spoon on the edge of the cup, weighing her words extremely carefully. “Like because it’s in style, or because society has set a standard on what’s a suitable age to have sex by. I think it’s all very wrong to imprison an individual with such a destructive stigma. A person’s sexuality, or sexual experiences should be…they should be…” Shit, not cherished, not special, something more medical. “…exceptional.” Go super doctor. She smiled and handed him his cup of coffee, forcing the trained eye to eye contact with her patient. Only he was not looking at her but down, contemplating.
Her therapeutic nature ran her over and she reached across the table and touched his arm. “I think it takes more courage and guts to be a virgin than not.” She drew her hand back, realizing she’d just violated the damn physical contact protocol. While talking sex of all things.
He smiled and looked at her. “Thank you. Your words have helped me.”
She relaxed, grateful beyond belief that her touching didn’t bother him. She was sure he’d noticed, he didn’t miss a thing. “Oh, pff, it’s nothing.” Now she had to contend with the notion of him being a virgin. What were the odds? Odd was the key word here. In her profession, odd was the norm. But in a life of trauma, sexual abuse was also a norm. She reserved the possibility that he could very well be either lying about it or blocking it. Personality disorders came with a crap load of delusions.
“You were in the middle of telling me about yourself. Please finish.”
“How about a fair exchange of information.”
He chuckled. “In that case, you owe me a fair amount of information about yourself.”
It was her turn to laugh, loving his honesty. “I was hoping to think that the sessions we have here were different from the others.”
“How so?”
“Well…I just have a way I’d like to conduct therapy. Non-traditional methods.”
“Yes.” It was his easy yes. The yes that said, he understood and liked it. She relaxed again.
****
Micah took a sip of the coffee made for him and prepared himself for the confession he’d planned with her. “I have women issues.” Her, specifically.
The look that came over her was exactly what he’d hoped. A hungry need to help. “How so?”
He shrugged. “I’m afraid to touch them.”
“Do you know why?”
“I think so.”
She waited for elaboration.
“I’m worried they’ll sense it.”
“Sense what?”
“That I’m not normal.”
“Can you define for me what you feel is normal?”
“A man that can touch a woman? A man that isn’t so utterly terrified of rejection that he can’t move or breathe or think?”
“I see. That is a problem. And you want to be able to touch women?”
He chuckled. “That would be nice.”
“Of course, of course,” she said softly. “I think I can help with that.”
His heart raced as he kept his head lowered, waiting to hear her idea. “How so?”
“Well, physical therapy for one.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Practicing. With my help of course.”
“You’re going to help me touch women?”
“Well, not literally, but I’m going to help you practice what leads up to touching. And once you get comfortable doing that, we’ll move to the next step. Don’t worry, we can take all the time you need, there’s no need to rush this.”
He gave her a sigh, letting her know how grateful he was about the not rushing. He liked slow. “So, what do you have in mind?”
“Well…” she contemplated a second then smiled. “Have you ever done a play?”
“Like…Romeo and Juliet?”
She gasped. “Yes. And that would be the perfect thing to start with. Only a modern version of one like that.”
“Whyfore dost thou not wish to utilise our beloved Romeo?”
“Yes, that’s why,” she giggled. “But you can play the man, I’ll play the woman and in no time, you’ll become comfortable with female confrontation.”
“You sure I shouldn’t play the woman?”
She raised her slender brows. “You know…I know you’re joking, but maybe it’s not a bad idea for us both to see what the other role feels like. Understanding the other gender helps in being able to connect with them.”
He smiled, loving the way she thought, loving the plan. Just the notion of doing anything intimate with her was a winner. He would be able to play the part well with her. He hoped there would be…kissing involved. “Can I pick out the play?”
“Of course! Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Micah couldn’t wait for the session to end now. He wanted to go home and find the perfect play then masturbate while imagining him and her acting it out. What a rush.
“Are you still conducting your online research?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“How does that work?”
She seemed to think a moment. “Actually, I’m simply building relationships on line. And you know what? I think it would be great for you to participate. It’ll be a good way for you to engage with other people without the whole physical confrontation issue. It allows you to practice being in public without actually being in public, it’s one of the key components we plan to utilize in cyber therapy. I don’t see why you shouldn’t take advantage of it.”
“How does it work, exactly?”
“Well, are you familiar with online stuff? I’m sure you are as a mysterious writer.”
He shrugged. “I have agents that do all that.”
“Ah. Well, it’s easy. Heard of Facebook?”
He smiled. “Yes, I know that much.”
“Well, there is a group there that I joined called Caffeine Corner. You simply need to join and interact. It’ll be fun. You can be whoever you want there, but I encourage you to be the person you would like to be in reality.”
“You mean outgoing and friendly, not afraid to assert myself?”
“If that is what you would like, then yes.”
“I would love that.”
“Perfect. I’ll get the information.”
Micah watched Sarah get up, his eyes straying to her ass as she disappeared through the door. Her clothes were too loose to define her shape, leaving him utterly curious.
She returned and sat down, handing him the paper. “That’s my online name, you’ll have to send me a friend request. Let me know who you are, although I accept all requests for this research. The more the merrier. But once you do that, I’ll put you into the group and introduce you as a good friend. If that’s okay.”
“Yes.”
“Great! I’m so thrilled you’re doing this, I think this is going to be a lot of fun.” Sarah looked at her watch.
“Session over?”
“Well, I like to go by progress and not a clock, and I think we’ve made a lot.” She looked at him. “Why don’t I give you a tour of the apartment grounds tomorrow?”
He winced.
“Okay, fine you don’t have to.”
“I suppose if you’re there, I can pretend I’m not available.”
Sarah laughed. “Yes, I’ll be your body guard, beat the women back. I’ll be your girlfriend when you need, and your sister if you don’t.” She bounced her brows, and he grinned, glad to see her playful self again.
“I’m sure I’ll be safe with you.”
“Heck yeah,” she bragged lightly, sipping from her cup. “I have this neon anti-social sign in my aura. People stay away. It’s odd but so true. Not kidding.”
“They’re intimidated.”
She widened her eyes. “You think? I am rather loud and obnoxious and pushy, maybe…” she winced nodding, “…yeah that might do it.” She laughed though, as if she didn’t mind. As if, it was exactly what she wanted. To be left alone.
Micah suddenly wondered what secrets she was hiding. Because a woman didn’t decide to be alone for no good reason. He added that to his need to discover list he’d made with her.
Chapter Five
Sarah tried on the third swimsuit, finally deciding on the white one. Made her look a little less like she moon tanned. It was as modest as she could find, a sheer skirt covering the bikini bottom. The top looked like a damn bra, but with the matching sheer wrap, it somewhat gave the appearance of modest. If she was going to convince Micah to tan with her at the pool, she’d have to play the part herself. She so was not a public pool person, but it was a nearby asset in her private profession arsenal by which to exercise normalcy with Micah.
Driving home, she looked at her watch. She had thirty minutes before their little apartment grounds date. She’d ask him about the pool. Even if he just came along and watched her be normal, maybe it’d give him the guts to try it. He just needed somebody to hold his hand a few times, be there at the ledge.
She called his cell. “Gooood morning sir, are we ready?”
“Uh, yeah, you want me to meet you at your place?”
“Whichever you prefer.”
“I’m walking out then.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
“Yes.”
He hung up and she made the realization that he never said bye. Goodnight, yes, but not goodbye. She tucked that away in her mental notes then rushed to give herself one last look over in the mirror. She’d decided to put the bathing suit on and wear a long white silk skirt and then added another similar wrap but with more substance to the top. It was more risqué than she’d ever dressed, that’s for damned sure. But…normal. Well, she was a far cry from what the other women wore, but hey, a fair enough compromise. She’d even painted her toe nails and nails with that gorgeous lavender polish that glittered in the sun. It was months old but she never got around to needing to wear it. Looking at it now, she wished she’d worn it every day. Absolutely lovely.
The doorbell rang and her stomach slammed into her ribs as she headed out. Let’s hope he didn’t look too fabulous. Hell, there was nothing wrong with admiring a great body, she needed to loosen up. Admiring beautiful people was a normal thing. She peeked through the peep hole. Holy crap. Khaki shorts and a white muscle shirt. Flip flops. Here we go.
She plastered her professional aura on and opened the door. “Well good morning handsome. You ready for the grand tour?” She slipped her sunglasses on.
He gave a low whistle while regarding her outfit.
“What, is it too geeky?”
“Not at all. It’s lovely.”
Lovely. Like a mother Hubbard. “Thank you, and look at you. Are you just getting back from a photo shoot with Ralph Lauren?” She giggled at his profuse blushing. “Ah, that’s what you get for being gorgeous my dear. I better bring my bat to ward off the flock of women.”
“Dear God.” Like the concept hadn’t occurred to him and was terrifying.
She laughed, shutting her door. “You’ll be fine. We’ll run like hell if we find ourselves being out numbered.”
“Yes.”
It was the green light word. Everything was good. She’d decided to go back to the personal space plan, but keeping it at a two foot distance instead of three. A little more personal than before but, not fight or flight claustrophobic.
She showed him around the grounds; the laundry room, the athletic room—which he seemed impressed with—the tennis courts, the trash bins, the back gate in case he ever needed to run.
“And lastly the pool.” She opened the gate and held it for him. “Actually, there’s another one on the other side of the complex but this one here is ours.” She looked at him and regarded the four people there. All women. “You wanna sit a minute? I don’t normally go, but with a friend, it would be a lot easier.”
He seemed oblivious to her tactic, and it worked. “For a bit.”
“Ten minutes?”
“However long you would like, I’m fine.”
She refrained from are you sure, acting as though it weren’t an issue. It was enough that he knew she knew how he felt, no need to over dramatize it.
They sat at an empty navy blue table under a matching umbrella. “You know, I have not once swam in that pool in the seven years that I’ve been here?” She took off her top wrap and draped it over the chair, deciding to leave the skirt on for now. No sense in stripping. She pulled suntan oil out of her bag and began rubbing her arms down, finally chancing a glance at him. Her stomach flipped at finding him staring at her body. Shit. “I should offer you my sunglasses so you don’t hurt your eyes.”
His gaze rose to hers, seeming confused by her words.
“I’m likely to blind you as white as I am.”
“It’s not your color that hurts my eyes.”
She sat, staring at him. “How the hell do I hurt your eyes?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Never mind.”
“No, not never mind,” she hissed. “Is it this top? It looks stupid, doesn’t it. Fine, confession, I don’t wear bathing suits, I think they’re a tad too revealing for public.” She threw the sun-tan oil in her purse, disgusted.
He turned in his chair, put his arms on the table, and leaned toward her with the most enchanting sexy smile. “So you wore that for me?”
She blanched. “Not for you for you, but…” shit, she was blowing the undercover operation help him feel normal. She resorted to the one policy she felt comfortable with. Transparency. She sighed and muttered, “I don’t even own a bathing suit. Truth is, I’m probably as anti-swimming pool as you are and I was trying to set an example. I just bought this ridiculous thing and feel as stupid in it as it likely looks.” She was grateful for the sunglasses now as she peeked up at him.
He suddenly stood and took his shirt off then sat back down. “Now we’re even.”
Her mouth hung open as she took in his naked torso. His naked scarred torso. She jerked her gaze away at making out what that scar was. Surely not what she thought. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.
“Neither did you.”
She looked at him, moved by his words and actions, awed too by the power transparency could have with some people. “Wow. You may be even whiter than I am.” She handed him the suntan oil and he took it with a smile.
“I don’t think so, you’re positively glowing.”
She laughed, elated with the progress taking place. “I moon tan. Does it show?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Check this out.” She stuck her toes out, showing off her polish. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Beautiful,” he said.
“I know. I bought it like six months ago.”
“You wore that for me too?”
“Ha! Oh my God, I’m getting busted left and right here. Hell, maybe I should be paying you for therapy, being around you is just bringing out the normal in me.”
&nb
sp; He let out a relaxed chuckle. “Yes.”
“You think we should dare put our feet in the pool? Or would that be too much normal for one day?”
“You first.”
She snickered and stood putting her hands at the waist band of her skirt then winced and looked around. “Maybe I should leave the skirt on?”
“Is that normal?”
She regarded him wondering why he should look so damn scrumptious to her. Miss blind to all men. Of course, she’d seen none that looked like that. “Not…really. What do you have on under those shorts?”
He gave her a real laugh. “Nothing I’d sit in public in.”
“So, I’m alone on this one.”
“Pretty much.”
“Maybe if you dare me, it’d be easier.”
“I dare you.”
“Oh come on, you’re no help.”
He angled a grin at her. “You said to dare you. But I am putting my feet in the dirty public water with you.”
“Fine then, but no crude remarks.” She shoved the skirt down and stepped out of it.
“Oh damn.”
Her heart thundered at hearing the inflection in his tone. It was extremely…pleased. She didn’t know how to feel or act, but her body seemed to think panic was in order. “I said no remarks.”
“No, you said no crude remarks.”
“Stop being technical.” His beautiful laughter was worth the shame. “Here I go.” She hurried to the pool side and sat then glanced over her shoulder and called him with widened eyes.
He got up and she watched him walk toward her then sat.
“You walk with the grace of a ghost,” she whispered. He’d settled next to her only a foot away and the personal space meter went off, but for her. Okay, weirdo, you’re the doc, he’s the patient. She was also a virgin woman sitting next to the hottest dude she’d ever known. Her body seemed to not care about anything else.
The four people there were sunbathing, thankfully, and that left the pool water calm and peaceful. “We’re gonna fry if we sit here longer than ten minutes.”
“Yes.” He waved his feet around in the water.
“You work out, I mean clearly you do.”