The topic of helping Gracie with her sex life was clearly a turn-on.
To both me and my dick.
six
. . .
Gracie
“Sure.You know I’ll help any way I can,” Cutler said, completely relaxed, as if this topic wasn’t awkward at all.
“This is one of the things I love about you,” I said, glancing out at the water in the distance, feeling more at ease than I had in months.
He laughed. “My skills in the bedroom? You don’t even know if I’m good.”
“Cutler. I don’t have to be there to know you’re good. I’ve seen the way women fall all over you. I’ve seen the way they want more after it’s over. I don’t have that. I mean, my ex-boyfriend even said I’m lacking in the bedroom.”
“I really wish I could have a moment alone with that guy right now. The fact that he’s given you a complex about sex pisses me the fuck off.”
“He didn’t give me a complex. I was already aware that it’s not an area of strength.” I chuckled. “My inexperience is showing. And I don’t take it personally. I’ve had three serious boyfriends, and let’s just say—there wasn’t a lot of passion involved in any of those relationships, you know? At least not when it came to—that sort of stuff.”
“Listen, Jeege, if we’re going to talk about it, you can’t be afraid to say it.”
“Say what?” I shook my head as I reached for my glass of wine.
“That they were bad in the sack. Shitty fucks. Lame lovers. However you want to word it.” He took a long pull from his bottle as his dark gaze locked with mine. “So, tell me what you think was lacking.”
“Well, Bowie was a great boyfriend. Do you remember him?”
“Bowie was a boy scout. No way that dude delivered. I offered him a sip of a White Claw when I came to visit you freshman year of college, and he acted like I’d asked him to rob a fucking bank.”
I tucked my teeth between my lips to try to keep my laughter under control. “Bowie was the sweetest. But he barely touched me, and we dated my senior year of high school, and then we were long-distance that first year of college. He was just a good guy and a rule follower, but I’d say we both lacked experience. And with him being my first boyfriend, I felt like something was wrong with me, because I was definitely more curious than he was back then. We literally did nothing more than make out, and we didn’t even do that all that often. He just wanted to talk and hold hands.” I shook my head with a snort.
“Why didn’t you talk to me? I would have told you that nothing was wrong with you.” He took another bite of his chicken.
“Well, this was mostly all happening the year when you stayed in Magnolia Falls to be with your mom. I certainly wasn’t going to talk to you about my concerns that my boyfriend barely touched me.”
“It would have been a good distraction at the time.” He shrugged and then rubbed his hands together. “How about good ole Carter? I remember I came back to school that year and youwere always with him, but you did spend a lot of time in the library together. Were you just studying?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that Carter was my first. I think I was just happy that I’d finally had sex and could put that behind me.”
I’d started dating Carter my sophomore year of college. Cutler had come back to school that year, as his mother was in remission and he’d decided it was okay to leave Magnolia Falls. He was still a bit wild back then, but he was starting to seem more like himself that year.
“Yes. I knew that. And I kind of hated that guy.”
“Carter? No one hated Carter. He was the mascot for our university.”
“He wore a fucking chicken suit. That did not make me like him more. He was too—” He paused to think it over. “Spirited.”
“Too spirited? What does that even mean? You’re spirited, Bear,” I said over my laughter. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“I’m spirited in a ‘Let’s grab a beer,’ ‘Let’s jump in the lake and skinny-dip,’ ‘Let’s throw a last-minute party’ kind of way… That dude was more about dancing around in a chicken suit. He was relentless at games about getting chants going. It was hard to hold a fucking conversation with him shouting in the stands to sing along with him. And stop avoiding the question. What was lacking in the sack with the chicken?” He smirked, and I sighed.
We were having this conversation, so I knew I might as well just put it all out there. I wasn’t going to be able to change anything if I wasn’t honest about where I was.
“Fine. Carter was similar in the bedroom to the way he was on the football field.”
“He fucked like a chicken?” he asked over a mouthful of food.
