I nod, completely mortified but still unable to stop the truth from tumbling out. “Yeah, it’s really been that long. Eight years since I’ve, um, done that. Since I’ve come.”
Chapter 18
Grant
Hearing her say those words—not to mention the fact that we’re even talking about this in the first place—sends a jolt of heat straight through me.
“Eight years?” I shake my head, unable to fully grasp what she’s just said. “That’s a really long time.”
I should probably drop it, especially since Heather is already blushing like crazy. But as we sit in silence and I try to think of literally anything else to talk about, my brain keeps stuttering and coming right back to eight years without an orgasm.
The silence stretches out for a few more seconds, and then I can’t take it anymore.
“When you said it’s been eight years,” I begin, then clear my throat, unsure of how to say any of this in a respectful way. “You meant you haven’t had sex in that long, right?”
She squirms a little on her bench, and I open my mouth to tell her nevermind, that it’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have asked in the first place.
But then I shut my mouth again without saying any of those things, because she’s the one who brought it up in the first place, and she can’t drop a bomb like that and expect me not to be curious.
“That too,” she says. “But—ugh, why are we talking about this?” Before I can answer, she shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s out in the open now anyway. No, I haven’t had sex in eight years, but I also haven’t had an orgasm since then. Not once.”
My mouth does that opening and closing thing again all on its own, like a fish gasping for water.
“How is that…” My voice trails off as I try to reconcile the sight of this gorgeous woman sitting across from me with the intimate details she’s just shared. Eight years. No sex. No orgasms. “Sorry, but how is that possible? Even if you haven’t been dating, surely there have been times when you, you know, took matters into your own hands?”
The phrase isn’t as delicate as I’d prefer, and it makes her turn an even darker shade of red. It can’t be helped, though. Not if I’m going to fully understand what the hell she meant when she said she hasn’t come for the better part of a decade.
She lets out a long, heavy sigh, and I can tell she’s getting frustrated. I can also tell she’s way beyond embarrassed. I half-expect her not to answer or to insist we change the subject. Instead, she puts her head down and plows through.
“After I left Steven, I was in a really bad place emotionally. I just wasn’t in the mood for anything like that for a long time. Then I was so busy trying to keep my head above water with rent and bills and taking care of April.” She shifts positions, meeting my gaze again and leaning back in her seat, but her muscles are still tight and rigid, and she’s still visibly frustrated. “I was in full single-mom survival mode, and the longer I went without any kind of sexual touch or even sexual thoughts, the more that part of me seemed to wither away from neglect.”
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of my mouth. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive, but that makes perfect sense. And I didn’t mean to push you when you obviously don’t owe me an explanation.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s just honestly not something I think about. Like, it really feels like that part of me might as well be dead. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t tried to, um, to revive that side of myself over the years. I’ve made time for… for me time, if you know what I mean. But I just can’t get myself there.”
She laughs in a self-deprecating way, but there’s no humor behind it. “It’s actually kind of pathetic. I’ll start out with the best intentions, but then my brain starts making a grocery list or reminding me that April needs new school shoes or that I forgot to pay the electric bill. My constant running to-do list always seems to creep into whatever fantasy I’m trying to lose myself in, and it kills the whole vibe.”
She waves a dismissive hand, like it’s no big deal. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to hear about my sad-sack non-existent sex life.”
I can’t let her dismiss this conversation so easily. Not when I can see the real pain and frustration behind her casual brush-off.
“Heather.” My voice is more coarse than I’d like, but it’s enough to make her look up at me. “You’re an amazing mom. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a woman too. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have that part of yourself back.”
“I want to.” Her voice is quiet. Almost a whisper. “I’m worried that I don’t know how anymore.”
There’s a desperation in her honesty that flips a switch inside me, bringing out every protective, primal instinct I have. The thought that this incredible woman, who gives everything to everyone else, has been denying herself this basic human need for so long absolutely kills me.
“You do know how. Your body remembers. You just need to get out of your own head.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve tried so many times. I can’t seem to?—”
“Because you’ve been trying it alone,” I interrupt. “Your mind wanders because there’s nothing to anchor you. Nothing holding you in the moment.”
The air between us that was so thick with tension just a few minutes ago is charged with something else now. Something sexual and hot. Something I can’t think too much about without my body reacting.
But I can tell that she feels it too. Her breathing is more shallow than it was before, and there’s a heat in her eyes that’s mostly replaced the nervous desperation.
“Try again for me.” I lean in close enough to touch her, but somehow resist the temptation. “Try for me right now, and I’ll walk you through it.”
