To say I am shocked is an understatement because my girl is bright and beautiful and to think that at twenty-three, she has only had two boyfriends is unbelievable, and yet I do believe her.
“Two boyfriends, two people I have slept with and been in long term, exclusive relationships with.” I know she is clarifying the details for me. “The first I met when I was seventeen, at college and we became friends first. His name is Ridley and he’s Sarah’s brother, that’s how I met Sarah. We went out for a about a year and a half, but he was a typical eighteen-year-old boy and when he went to uni he threw himself into every aspect of uni life. He also went away to uni and I didn’t. I stayed local so we had a geographical distance too. Ridley was funny and kind, my friend, and I missed him when he went away but I got over it very quickly. I had Sarah, who was my friend by this time and a few people I met at uni, so I don’t really remember us splitting up,” she says with a laugh and explains further. “Then he came home one time with his girlfriend, and I knew we’d broken up. I didn’t want or need another boyfriend and between uni and Sarah I was happy with my lot, plus, as I said, I have issues. A few guys asked me out, but I really wasn’t interested.”
A few guys? I bet they formed an orderly queue around the block at the chance to see my girl, date her and make her theirs. There was that word again,my.
“Some of them seemed sleazy, others scared me or just didn’t interest me until I met Brad two years ago, give or take. I had just finished uni and he was different, nice, a couple of years older than me and he was patient with me and my inexperience in relationships.” I wonder if she is making a point that I am impatient with her, but she continues, “We saw each other for a few months before we slept together and we stayed together for the next year and a half on and off. By the end, with Brad, I knew we were going nowhere, never had been really, but he’s nice, friendly. Sarah went off him very quickly when she realised it was going to be stop start for the duration and she gave him shit about it constantly,” she tells me with an arched brow trying to lighten the mood, my mood and it works.
I laugh, mainly because I like that Sarah gave this man that I have never met shit.
“Would you feel better if I met him at Dazzler? You can have your brother guard me.” I know she doesn’t mean the guarding thing, but her offer is genuine.
“I’ll think about it,” I say with an immature pout that makes Olivia laugh from her position in my lap.
“You were right when you said about our connection, about there being something between us. Look, this is embarrassing, and I have no clue why I think this will convey my point that I am not interested in being with Brad or anyone, except you.”
I smile at her and gently begin to roll my thumbs into the soft skin of her hips, urging her to continue.
“When I was with Ridley and Brad, we obviously had sex, but it wasn’t like with you. I mean Ridley and I were both young, so it was a bit hit and miss initially, but Brad was more experienced and knew things.”
I love the pink hue of embarrassment plastered over Olivia’s face. However, her telling me that Ridley fumbled for a while, likely leaving her unsatisfied whereas Brad knew his way around the female anatomy so must have been more successful in fulfilling her needs and desires is irritating me somewhat.
“Is there a point to this, baby?” I am becoming concerned that this conversation is going to become a bone of contention now.
“Yes, of course. When I was with either of them, sex was difficult, for me,” she whispers making me smile at her cute whispering thing, but I am unsure what she’s saying. “With you, it’s easy, you make it easy for me.”
“Do you mean the physical act of it was difficult for you?” I’m still confused.
“No, not like I couldn’t do it or was too tense, no. Fuck, this is embarrassing,” she mutters with a cringe, making me feel bad for starting this.
“Olivia, I don’t want you to feel awkward.” It’s almost as an offer for her to stop, even though I know I’ll never want her to keep things from me, no matter how embarrassing. I briefly wonder why I keep coming to Olivia in the long term, even though we are so very new.
“Thank you,” she says with a weak smile. “But I want to continue.” I feel her hands come to rest on my chest where I know she is tracing her fingers over the lines of my tattoos without looking. “When you touch me it’s as though every fibre of my being comes to life. Like my body knows exactly how to react to you and your touch. Whether you are kissing me, stroking my face or touching me, like dirty things touching,” she says, and her smile is as broad as mine at her introduction ofdirty things. “You tell me I feel, you know, wet.” I hear her gulp saying wet. “I didn’t, not really, with them and when you touch me, you know,” she mumbles.
I stifle the laugh I feel rising through me thinking that she is struggling to give the things we do a name, but if I laugh, she is likely to clam up.
“Do you mean when I touch your tits, pinch your nipples, or when I slip my hands into your pants and find you wet, when I finger you until you’re riding my hand or when I circle and flick your clit, is that what you mean?” I’m thinking that no sex tonight may not be an option.
The gasp she utters when her mouth opens seems to suggest that we’re on the same page.
“Yes, all of those things. They excite me and make me want to, no, not just want to, they do make me, erm, come.”
“They do, don’t they?” I feel myself harden beneath her, unsure whether she feels it too with the thickness of the bed covers between us.
“Well, they didn’t, before you,” she reveals making me confused as to what she’s saying.
“Are you saying that you never came?”
“No, I did, but not always and sometimes it was really difficult for me to,” she explains with a little cough. “Most of the time I needed to help out, but not with you and I know that everything isn’t about sex, but surely it means something, for us, that my body reacts to you that way. That you know my body that well?”
I am almost speechless at her revelation because she is the most sensual and sexually responsive woman I have ever known so how could she have ever struggled to climax? I admit that I love seeing her hands touch herself, but not through necessity.
“Mason?” she nervously says with a deep crimson hue, uneasily needing me to say or do something.
“Yeah, sorry. You’re right, it does mean something, the way we are, how we are together and it’s not just one sided. You affect me like nobody ever has. I can’t deny that I’m surprised at what you said because you are so quick to respond when we’re together, wherever we are.”
“Brad is no threat and you’re my boyfriend now.” She smiles.
“Yes, yes I am which I think means you’re my girlfriend.”
