Lip Service (Pleasure Chest 1)

The words don’t come easily, and I find myself avoiding his eyes. “I—” I have to clear my throat, my entire body flushing from embarrassment and the difficulty of saying this out loud. “I was recently in a relationship,” I say, taking a steadying breath, “When he broke up with me, he told me that is was because of the sex—that I was bad at it. Blowjobs especially.” I glance up at Philip, and there’s no smile on his face anymore. Instead there’s shock, and I see a spark of growing anger in his eyes. I look away again. “He told me that the rest of me didn’t make up for how bad I was in bed.”

Suddenly Philip’s lips are on mine, and I’m overwhelmed by the fierceness of his kiss. His body presses mine down into the mattress, and his arms lock me against him. His tongue sweeps across my lips, and I open them. This kiss stirs something in me, an ache deep in my chest. It’s a feeling I don’t recognize, and I’m not sure I want it to leave. He barely lets me breathe, and I feel lightheaded when he breaks away. I’ve never been kissed like that, and I wouldn’t mind being kissed like that forever. I manage to open my eyes, and when I do Philip’s face is close. He speaks before I can ask him why he just kissed me like the world was ending.

“Your ex is a fucking idiot,” he says, voice forceful. “You are exquisite, and sexy. And aside from your pussy, your mouth is the best thing that’s ever happened to my cock.”

I laugh, the way he phrased that making me smile, but he doesn’t smile.

“Anyone who would make someone like you feel like that doesn’t deserve to be called a man,” he says, pressing another, gentler, kiss to my lips. “And anyone lucky enough to share your bed should consider themselves a lucky bastard.”

My breath catches, because I know that he’s completely serious. “You think you’re a lucky bastard?” I ask.

“I think I’m the luckiest of bastards. Because if Christa hadn’t asked me to fill in and you hadn’t walked into Pleasure Chest we wouldn’t be here. If that’s not luck, I don’t know what is.”

I think about that. Bryan and I never had sex like this. The sex was good—or I thought it was—but it wasn’t explosive like this. He hadn’t been nearly into things like my blowjobs. The way he and Philip had reacted couldn’t have been more different. In light of the sex I had, new things come to light in my mind. Bryan had largely ignored my breasts unless he decided to fuck them. It’s no wonder that I was surprised by the way that Philip made them feel.

Another memory pops to the surface, Bryan chastising me for being loud on multiple occasions. He said it was distracting, and unsexy. I’ve been quiet during sex ever since. I’m not sure why I thought that was okay. I guess I just loved him enough to ignore it. I guess I loved him enough to ignore myself entirely. To not realize that I wasn’t the problem.

“Where did you just go?” Philip asks.

I edge myself closer to him again, and I let him kiss me. The world isn’t ending, but it’s still a damn good kiss. “Thank you,” I say, “for saying those things.”

“Do you believe me?” he says.

“Yes,” I say, and I do.

“But?”

I sigh. “But when you know someone that well, it’s hard not to think there’s some grain of truth to what they say.”

He frowns. “He’s wrong, Mayra. That and whatever else he said about you, he was wrong.”

“You’ve only known me for a day.”

“Even if I’d known you a year he’d still be wrong.”

I smile, his words settling in my chest, warm and perfect. Curling into him, I finally give into the temptation of a nap. “I’m so tired,” I say. “I slept terribly because of you.”

He perks up at that. “How so?”

“Ask me when I don’t so desperately need a nap,” I say.

He chuckles, and I feel him pull a blanket up over the two of us. “You can count on that.” He says, but I’m already fading away.

10

Philip

Mayra falls asleep faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. I almost wish I could take a nap with her, but I couldn’t sleep now. How could I? I’m fucking electrified. I want to run a marathon and climb a mountain. Both to celebrate how amazing that was, and also take out all the incredibly violent instincts I’m having towards her ex. The guy needs a good punch in the face. Or ten. Even if someone is bad in bed—which Mayra is the furthest thing from—what gives you the right to shatter their self-worth? If you need to break up with someone, break up with them. But the least you can do is acknowledge that break-ups suck and try to get out with as little damage to both of you as possible.

I’m so angry at the man, and yet, there’s a part of me that’s grateful. If he hadn’t been a complete and utter dick I wouldn’t be in this bed right now. Mayra rolls over in her sleep, and I pull her in so her back is against my chest. I like the feeling of her breathing against me. After so many months of not feeling anything—and not admitting that I wasn’t feeling anything—it feels like I’ve found a crack in the ice. I know Mayra isn’t some magical key to unlocking my soul, but just knowing that I can feel like this…I didn’t want to admit that I had given up hope of that.

I’ll have to tell Christa that I don’t need her to put in a good word for me now. In fact, maybe I can convince Mayra to go with me to check on Christa later this evening. The thought of taking her with me to go anywhere feels good. It feels right. I examine this feeling, trying to discern whether or not this feeling is just because of the sweet relief of connection or something deeper. I’m honestly not sure which one I’d rather it be. For the moment though, I’m perfectly happy holding her against me, letting her sleep. In my struggles with nightmares, I’ve learned that it’s hard to sleep if you don’t feel safe. I like knowing that I make her feel safe.

Curling my arm around her stomach, I tuck her more solidly against me, listening to her breathe and settle in to wait.

In spite of myself, I do doze for a while, though I never let myself drift completely off. It’s a couple of hours before Mayra stirs in my arms, stretching and turning so that she’s facing me. Her eyes are still heavy with sleep, but she’s smiling. The sense of rightness flows through me at knowing I’m the one that put that smile there.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello.”

“I slept.”

I grin, pulling her in to kiss her. “You did, and you were damn sexy while doing it.”

“How can you be sexy while sleeping?” She laughs.

“You were naked and pressed against me—believe me it was sexy.” I feel my cock stirring, and she does too.

Her eyes widen. “If you make me come again right now I might explode. I’ve already had more orgasms in one day then I’ve ever had.”

“Three is the most you’ve had?” I feel my eyebrows raise.

That telltale pink colors her cheeks. “Four.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “When was the fourth?”

“At the gym.” She clears her throat, “In the locker room. With the Mustang.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “That’s bolder than I was thinking.”