“That was the worst. Thank God no one noticed.”
“It’s a good thing we snuck out the back door before anyone did. It was totally worth the three days of detention for our disappearing act.”
“Thanks for never telling anyone about that, even your dad.”
“Did you shit your pants in public again?” I ask, hoping it’s nothing as embarrassing as that. It’s bad enough when you do it as a kid, but having it happen as an adult would be horrifying.
“Carter has never given me an orgasm.”
My mouth drops open. Carter is her husband. He looks like a capable man, and I know Alyssa has the ability because she slept with more than her fair share of guys before she met him. “For real?” I whisper.
She nods as she keeps her eyes down like she can’t bear to face me. “I’ve tried, and so has he. God, he’s been relentless in the pursuit of giving me one. To the point that now I feel more pressure than ever.”
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath. “You at least have a vibrator or something, right?”
She nods again. “Yeah, and we use it together, but he feels like he’s letting me down.”
“Is he?”
“Hell no. The man does magical things to my body, but now the pressure’s too much that it could never happen.”
“I don’t think many men realize it’s a mental thing for us. The more pressure we’re under, the less likely we’ll be able to get there.”
“I’m going to talk to him when I get home and hope he doesn’t freak out. It’s really been a problem in our marriage. He feels like a failure, and I’m exhausted both mentally and physically from trying to make it happen so he can move on to something else.”
“How did he even find out? I mean, when I can’t get off with someone, I fake it like I’m trying to win an award from Hollywood, and guys can’t tell the difference.”
“I used to, but then I confessed in a couples therapy session that I had faked an orgasm because we were addressing the pressure he puts on himself, and it snowballed from there.”
“I thought therapy was supposed to fix shit?” My mind is spinning from her entire confession. I never had any idea they had problems and would need therapy, especially because their relationship is still relatively new.
“I thought it would too, but it only made things worse,” she says softly, sounding so unlike the Alyssa I’ve always known.
Her shimmer is gone. The vibrant part of her that has always been filled with laughter and light has vanished.
“Is that why you were looking at Timber like he was a snack?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
“His size and face weren’t lost on me.”
“I have an idea.”
“What?” she grumbles, never liking the things I come up with because they’re usually ridiculous. And this time isn’t any different.
“Why don’t you tie Carter to the bed and ride his face until you orgasm? Then you control the movement, the timing, and he can’t do shit about it. He’d technically be the one giving you the orgasm. And if it doesn’t work, you can just smother him with your pussy until he stops breathing. Either way, problem solved.”
Alyssa stares at me, blinking a few times, no doubt processing the brilliance of my plan. “I don’t wish him dead, Tate.”
“I’ve heard it’s a fantasy most men have. That’s the way they’d like to go out. Why not make their dreams become a reality?”
“You’re a complete weirdo and maybe a little psycho too.”
I give her a smile. “Normal is boring.”
“But,” she says before taking a sip of her wine, still mulling over my idea, “I like the first part of your idea. He’s always in control of everything. Maybe I could get him to go for it.”
“I can’t imagine he’ll say no.”
“He’s not the same guy you met years ago. He’s stressed out about everything, even grocery shopping. I’m waiting for him to die from a heart attack because of all the pressure he puts on himself.”
