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Slowly, I shake my head.
“Seriously?”
Nia is probably thinking it’s crazy that a grown-ass man has never had a blow job. I’m thinking how brain-bending it is that, in less than five minutes, she redefined pleasure. I still can’t wrap my head around it.
“Seriously.”
She regards me with solemn eyes. “Becca never…?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “Becca… Remember I said her foster father abused her? Yeah. Sexually. He especially liked to force her to give him head. So when we got married, she tried, but she couldn’t bring herself to…”
“Without having flashbacks. Got it. What else couldn’t she do?”
The list is long, and in the face of Nia’s obvious experience, I’m almost embarrassed to admit all the sexual acts and positions I’ve never performed.
“I need to know,” she says softly. “If we’re going to live together for the next few weeks and really give us a try, then—”
“She…” I swallow nervously. “She preferred to be on top.”
“Where she was in control?”
“Yes.”
“And you let her.”
“Yes.”
“Even though it went against your grain?”
“How did you know?”
Nia sighs. “Evan, you like to control everything, all the way down to the kind of pencils we buy in the office. Why would sex be any different for you?”
I open my mouth to refute her, but can I? Should I? Unlike Becca, she’s not crying or blaming me for being insensitive to her past. She’s simply trying to understand me. “You’re right; it’s not.”
My whispered admission seems loud in the room.
She cups my face. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”
“I’m overbearing. Demanding.” At least according to Becca.
“No, you’re not.” She seems to laugh at my contention. “You obviously restrained yourself to accommodate her. But at some point, she had to concede that you aren’t her rapist.”
“Sex…was something she did for me.”
“Not for her own pleasure. I see.” Nia frowns. “Missionary?”
“Every once in a blue moon, usually only when I couldn’t climax with her on top.”
“Could she climax?”
“Eventually. It took a lot of effort. I learned patience, figured out her body, and discovered a lot of shortcuts and tricks.”
“No wonder you always seem so focused on making me come and you can do it so fast,” she murmurs. “What else? Did she like it when you went down on her?”
“Yeah. That was a guaranteed orgasm. Jesus, why am I spitting all this out? What I really want to know is how many blow jobs you’ve given to be that good at it.”
“I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. I don’t have any sexual baggage that’s going to stop us from being happy in bed. But I think you have a whole lot of unexplored territory. Why couldn’t Becca stand missionary sex?”
