Liam just flashed me a stern look. Between my legs spasmed. Why was it that when he did that stern thing, all I could think about was being spanked?
Face getting hot, I watched him put a small glass with a dark golden liquid in it before me.
‘Drink.’
I picked it up and sniffed it and grimaced. Brandy reminded me indelibly of funerals. Specifically my parents’ funeral when I’d been just thirteen. I looked at him balefully.
‘Just take a sip.’
I took a sip and winced as the liquid burned its way down my throat. Curiously, as its warmth spread through me, I did feel a little equilibrium return. I took another sip.
Liam came around the bar to stand in front of me and I clutched the glass. My whole body felt unbearably sensitive, all that buildu
p of tension and giving him a blow job doing little to help ease my own state of frustration.
‘So...do you want to explain a little more about what you just said?’
I scowled. ‘Not really.’
Liam crossed his arms. I sighed, took another healthy sip of brandy. He took the glass from me. ‘That’s enough.’
His gaze speared me to the spot. I knew I was facing my own personal Waterloo. He came closer, the ache between my legs intensified.
‘Caitlin...’
I crossed my arms. ‘Fine. If you must know. The truth is that I’ve never experienced...an orgasm. I get to a certain point...and then no further. It’s as if a switch goes off in my body, shutting down.’
Liam shook his head, one hand on the bar beside me now, the other stuck into his jeans pocket. ‘But...how has no one noticed?’
I flushed, thinking of all the times I’d given my best When Harry Met Sally fake-orgasm-scene impression. He’d seen right through that little performance. I shrugged.
‘Not even when you masturbate?’
I flushed more, thinking of waking with my vibrator buzzing gently against me, and shook my head. Liam came closer. The air around us thickened with something heavy, sultry.
‘If I’d known what I was up against the other night...I would have proceeded with a little more...finesse.’
I prickled at his words, if I’d known what I was up against. As if it would have been that easy. ‘I’m not some science experiment, you know.’
Completely oblivious, Liam’s eyes tracked down my body and back up. Damn him but little fires seemed to break out all over my skin.
‘I’m aware of that. You’re a gorgeous sexy woman but you’re also an orgasm virgin and that needs to be rectified.’
I melted at his calling me gorgeous and sexy and then prickled again at orgasm virgin. I couldn’t move, though, Liam was so close his legs were practically pushing mine apart on the stool. I felt hot and bothered, seriously exposed. Claustrophobic.
My voice was snarky. ‘So what do you suggest then, Dr. Sullivan?’
* * *
Liam blinked, his brain felt fuzzy. All he could see were those huge brown eyes and all he could smell was her scent, spiked with arousal. What he wanted to say was that they’d lock themselves into his or her apartment for as long as it took to make her come so hard and long that she’d be screaming.
But he didn’t.
He realized that the sense of desperation he felt stemmed from the fact that he wanted to be the one to see her come for the first time. He took a step back. Crapola. This was veering way out of control. She fused his brain so he couldn’t think straight—one minute he’d been about to fire her without even considering the fact that he couldn’t just do that, and the next he’d been reeling to find out she’d never...come. That vulnerability had hit him right between the eyes like a sledgehammer.
Liam was used to women with voracious appetites. Who expected and demanded nothing less than the pinnacle of sexual pleasure, every time. But Caitlin looked as if she’d prefer to fake-orgasm her way through the rest of her life right now than deal with this.
Almost without realizing it, he asked, ‘Don’t you want to know what it’s like? I mean, aren’t you curious?’