“And kissing a lot too,” Marco, Raina’s son—added.“We saw you guys.How could you even breathe?”
“And on that note,” I said, my entire body on fire, “I bid you allbuona notte.”I spun on my heel and headed toward the door.
“He’s got her speaking Italian already,” Raina said.“I’d say they’re dating.”
Several of them laughed, but I didn’t dignify them with a response.I just took my burning body and my sexual frustration upstairs to my carriage house apartment, where not even a cold shower could erase the throbbing need between my legs.
I couldn’t even go to Tom’s if I wanted to though.I’d had too much wine and definitely shouldn’t have been driving.
It wasn’t that late, but there wasn’t much else to do.So I tucked myself into bed, grabbed my book from my nightstand and tried to read.But I must have read the same paragraph eight times, and I still had no idea what it said, because my mind kept drifting back to this morning.Waking up in Tom’s arms … and tonight, kissing him against his truck … It’d only been a week that I’d known the man, and yet, it didn’t feel that way.I wanted him like I’d never wanted anything—or anyone—before.
He made me feel safe, and cherished, desired and cared for.He also really listened to me when I spoke, something that felt as surreal to me—especially when it came to older men—as the abominable snowman or bigfoot.Men didn’t listen to women.We were their property.We were to be seen and not heard, just like children.We had no say in the household or in society.Our husband’s word was law, and we were to be dutiful, law-abiding wives—or suffer the consequences.
I learned quickly, after the first night Rufus came home drunker than a sailor on leave, to just keep my head down and not say a word.I didn’t leave the house for a week after that as I didn’t want anybody to see my black eye or the fingerprint-shaped bruises around my neck.
But Tom never manhandled me.And he didn’t abuse alcohol.I also just didn’t get the abusive-partner vibe from him.Neither did my cousins.Because at this point, we all had pretty much spot-on abuser radar, and the alarms were silent for all of us when it came to Tom.
With a deep sigh that I felt all the way down to my toes, I set my book down and closed it.I wasn’t going to retain any information tonight.Reading was the last thing on my mind.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I disconnected it from the charger and started to arbitrarily scroll without really thinking about what my eyes focused on.
Until a message popped up.
A message from … Tom.
A thrill raced through me, settling into a pleasant tingle in my lower belly and between my legs.
Grazie, bella.I was nervous to come meet your family, but they are as beautiful as you are.Thank you all for the warm welcome.The wonderful company, the delicious food, and the offer of help to a stranger.Even though we are going to the bakery for a purpose, I would like to also consider it our second date if that is okay with you?
I grinned so freaking wide and did a happy little shimmy as I re-read the message.
Finally, I responded.
I know you were nervous, but I greatly appreciate you coming.They all loved you.And I am very much looking forward to our second date.Sam is sleeping over at her cousins’ again, so I’m already in bed.
Should I add that I’m alone?
I wasn’t bold enough to do that, so I just watched those three cheeky little dots bounce and waited for his reply to come through.
Ah, bella.I wish I could be there and hold you like last night.Sleep well.May your dreams be beautiful.
My dreams were surely going to be about him and the way he kissed.I already knew it.
I “hearted” his comment, then wished him a goodnight before setting my phone back on my nightstand.
Unlike my cousins, who were all quite a bit more brazen than me, and had no problem discussing certain aspects of intimacy in our safe little foursome, I was shy when it came to all things sex.Raina, Naomi, and Gabrielle all chatted about vibrators and orgasms and that kind of stuff while I just sat there quietly sipping my wine, not saying a word.
Had I ever had an orgasm?
No.
No, I hadn’t.
Not from Rufus, not from myself.I’d never touched myself, if I was being completely honest.Sure, I washed my body in the shower, and when my finger would brush my clit, a small zap of pleasure might rush through me, but I never did anything beyond that.
Call it shyness, call it residual trauma from my ex, but for whatever reason, I just never felt any desire tofulfilmyself.
Sex with Rufus had always been so brutal.He was big, hairy, old, and smelled terrible.He would climb on top of me like a half-dead walrus, pump a few times, then roll off—back into the sea—and fall asleep.And that was when he wasn’t drunk.When he was drunk and wanted sex, I was often left sore for days—and not in the good way my cousins say can happen—or I’d bleed.I wasn’t allowed to say no.Refusing intimacy with your husband was not the way they did things in Christian Fundamentalist groups, and Rufus, in particular, did not like to be denied—anything.
