Page 98 of Road Trip to Forever
“I want to tell you. I don’t want us to have any secrets.”
“Then I’m all ears.”
“No one has ever made me come.”
I blink. My eyebrows wrinkle and I stare at the spot on her neck I’m learning I really, really like. Just above her collarbone, the sliver of skin I want to drag my tongue across. “What?”
“No one has ever made me come,” she says again. It’s louder this time, with more confidence.
“No one?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“Nope.”
“Can you—youcancome, yeah?”
“Yeah. On my own. With toys and my hand. I just get in my head when I’m with someone else. I’m worried I’m taking too long or they’re not enjoying themselves. Then I think about all the other things I could be doing, but I’m not, and it takes me out of the moment.”
My mind wanders to Lola in her room. One hand under her shirt, the other beneath her shorts, teasing and testing. Learning and finding the exact spot that drives her wild. Slick fingers, a parted mouth, and soft moans. It’s wicked. It’s sexy. It’sso fucking hot.
Does she keep a toy at my place when she stays over? In the drawer by her bed, next to my headache medicine? Does she use it when I’m home, holding back a gasp so I don’t hear her down the hall?
Christ.
I can never look at her nightstand again.
I clear my throat. The room is warmer than it was five minutes ago and I’m going to need to set the thermostat down a couple degrees. Twenty, maybe, if Lola keeps talking like this.
“So,” I say. “To summarize: you’ve gotten yourself off, but another person hasn’t been able to make you come. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
I think I’m going to have an aneurysm trying to process all this information. I’m tugged between nineteen different emotions. Irritated that people have given up on her in bed so easily, making her experiences lackluster and forgettable. Ecstatic that I might be the first one to help her to the finish line. Contemplative as I consider how thehellI’ll get her there and what she might like best.
It’s hard to focus on anything rational when Lola is watching me, her cheeks bright red and her bottom lip between her teeth. I haven’t even touched her yet, not really, and she’s already driving me wild.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say.
“I’ve never admitted that to anyone. Not the girls. Not past partners. I feel safe with you, Patrick, and I wanted to tell you.”
“You are safe with me,” I say, reassuring her. “Even if you haven’t been able to come, does it still feel good?”
“What?”
“Does it still feel good? If I do this…” I graze my thumb over her nipple and her eyes flutter closed. I remember that it’s the same reaction she had when I licked her over her shirt in the living room. My stomach swoops low and a white-hot sensation pulses up my spine as I watch her. “Ah. Itdoesfeel good.”
“Yes,” she whispers, twisting her body and grabbing the sheets, the cotton an anchor under her fingers. “I always get close, but I can never tip over the edge. I don’t want you to think it’s you. It’s me. It’s definitely me.”
“It’s not you, Lola. You want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because someone who cared about you wouldn’t give up that easily. They’d like the challenge. They’d put in the effort. It might not happen the first time, but they’d keep trying to find what makes you feel good. What you like best. And I’d like to try, if it’s okay with you.”
“What happens if I can’t finish?”
