Chocolate Covered Billionaire Navy SEAL (9 page)

That evening, Natalie’s roommate was away for the night, so she and Brian lay in her bed, making out. She allowed him to remove her shirt and bra but not her jeans. He spent a lot of time playing with her newly-unveiled breasts as she ran her fingers through his hair. He tried repeatedly to unbutton her jeans and was stopped each time. While his hands were all over her body, her hands never went below his shoulders, much to his growing frustration.

"God, you feel amazing," he said.

"Oh, so do you," she said breathlessly.

"I’m so hot for you right now."

"So am I."

"Well, why..." he began before thinking better of it.

"'Why' what?" she asked.

Aching for her, Brian looked down at his straining groin before glancing up at her face. "Why, uh, aren’t you touching me?"

"I
am
touching you."

"Why aren’t you touching me... anywhere else?"

She looked innocently at him. "Oh, I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

"I can’t. I just can’t touch it right now, because..."

Natalie stared at the ceiling a moment, sat up in bed, and pulled her legs to her chest. Sitting up next to her, he looked sympathetically at her.

"You can tell me. Really, what is it?"

She paused and then looked at him. "I, uh, when I was younger, there was this thing that happened, and now I just can’t."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and looked devastated. "Jesus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I, uh..."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I just need time. Will you wait for me?" Natalie asked as she looked away from him toward the door.

"As long as it takes."

She looked back at him with a smile. "You mean it?"

"Yes, I’m crazy about you," Brian said.

"Will you stay and just hold me all night?"

Nodding, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

Jillian had a date that night with James. It would be their third date together, and this guy seemed like long-term boyfriend material. They met through an Internet dating site and were a decent match. The plan was for James to pick her up and take her to dinner; they left the remainder of the night open to other possibilities. Jillian thought she’d invite him in afterward, since she was attracted to him, but probably not go all the way. It had been eight months since her last sexual encounter, if you could even call it that, and she was really starting to long for the touch of a man. She didn’t want to sleep with just anyone; she was waiting for the right guy.

James arrived with a bag full of Chinese food and carrying a soft briefcase. She was surprised with the change of plans but was a fan of Chinese, so she didn’t object. She brought out some plates, and they ate in the dining room. As she spooned out the food, James pulled three books from his bag and set them on the chair next to him. Jillian couldn’t see the titles of the books, but she poured them each a glass of wine without asking about them. She figured he'd talk about the books when he was ready. They talked about the usual stuff, and she forgot all about the books until she returned to the table after clearing the plates and found he had the titles arranged neatly in front of him.

She could see the spines of each book, and she read the titles of the first two in horror. They were all relationship books. One was
How to Strengthen Your Relationship
, another was
Relationship Secrets
, and she didn’t bother reading the third. James looked at her as he held his folded hands over the books. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Do what?" she asked, confused.

"Work on our relationship," he said in a tone that implied she should have known.

Jillian wondered exactly what relationship was he referring to.
We’ve been on two dates and this thing tonight, whatever the hell this is.

He watched her carefully. "Here or on the sofa?"

"Sofa." She filled her wine glass to the top and slowly walked into the great room and sat down. James sat next to her—right next to her—and placed two books by his leg. He opened the third to a page he had marked with a Post-it note.

She took a long sip of her wine. "What do you think we need to work on?"

He looked like a crazed druggie as he stared at her and blurted, "I think all relationships need work. Don’t you agree?"

"Well, yes. I guess," she replied.

She sat speechless, drinking wine as he proceeded to go through the pages marked with Post-its. After five pages, she refilled her glass, and after five more, she brought the bottle over. By the time they had finished the bottle, James had reviewed what seemed like forty pages of lists, charts, and relationship secrets. She desperately wanted to strangle him. Alternatively, she hoped for a house fire, so she wouldn't have to get her hands dirty. While he droned on, she resorted to thinking about how she’d like to remodel the room. During his presentation, when he looked to her for confirmation, she politely nodded and said, "Uh, huh" at the appropriate intervals.

After two more grueling pages, she checked the time, feeling like they had been going at it for at least an hour, but they were only about thirty minutes in at that point. When he picked up the second book, and she saw what looked to be about a hundred Post-it- marked pages, she stood. "I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom."

She stayed in the bathroom, which was just off the hallway between the great room and the kitchen, for about five minutes. She came up with a plan and flushed three times. She returned to him, clutching her stomach, but he was glued to book number two and didn’t notice. As James began to review the highlights of the first page, he glanced over at Jillian and noticed that she appeared to be in pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I have a little stomachache."

He gave her a sympathetic smile. "Oh, I had explosive diarrhea last week. It was horrible. You don’t have that do you?"

She looked at him, a little horrified. "Well, no, but I—"

"That’s good," James interrupted. "You should take half an Imodium and a tablespoon of
Pepto. I think I have Imodium in the car if you—"

"No, thanks.
I’ll be okay," she said in a tired voice.

"Let’s finish going through the text later then."

Jillian perked up. "I think that would be best."

"Let’s do just one more thing tonight, though," James said as he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. Separating two stapled documents, he handed her a copy and kept one for himself.

"What’s this?" she asked hesitantly.

"A relationship quiz that I put together from the books and some Internet sites."

"Quiz?" she asked, flipping the pages as her eyes widened.

"It’s mostly multiple
choice, but there are a few short-answer questions," James said, paging along with her. He flipped to the back page, and she continued to review the document while breaking into a sweat. James added, "The back page is focused mostly on religion. We’ve never really discussed—"

"No, we haven’t," Jillian interrupted before leaping up from the sofa. "I really need to go to the bathroom again. Be right back."

Rushing to the hallway, she continued into the kitchen and quietly opened the freezer. There, she pulled out a bag of frozen vegetables and grabbed the milk carton, along with a large plastic cup. Carrying her items, she slipped quietly into the bathroom and closed the door. She placed the cup on the counter and rushed to open the frozen vegetables. The bag ripped, and vegetables shot all over the sink. She cursed, scooped up some vegetables to fill the cup halfway, and then added milk. She opened the bathroom door slightly, lifted the toilet seat, and poured one-third of the contents from about two feet above the bowl. For the next ten seconds, the frozen soupy mixture splashed loudly into the toilet, and Jillian added a groan before repeating the process twice more.

"Jillian?"

"Yes," she replied in a pained voice.

"Would you bring in a couple of pencils?" he yelled out loudly.

She frowned. After scooping the rest of vegetables into the cup, she added milk and opened the door a little more, repeating the process a fourth time. This time, she held the cup about four feet above the bowl and provided a louder groan, which she directed out the door. Then she rushed to the door, inching out into the hallway just enough so she could see if her theatrics were getting a reaction.

When she left him, James had been slumped back against the sofa, leafing through his relationship material. Now, he was sitting straight up, looking horrified,
staring straight ahead with his eyes bugging out.

Satisfied, Jillian returned to the bathroom, flushed twice, and ran the water while she collected the few vegetables that remained scattered over the sink. She splashed some water on her face, turned off the faucet, and returned to the great room, holding her stomach. James wore an odd expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"You didn’t hear any of that, did you?"

His eyes darted back and forth as he said, "No, I, uh, well—"

"Wow. That was... Sorry. I had to open the door. I was dying," she said while waving her hand in front of her face. "There’s no window in there."

Standing, he began placing his books into his briefcase. "Maybe we should do this another time."

"I’m so sorry about this," Jillian said. "Why don’t you leave the quiz with me, and I’ll e-mail it back to you?"

James didn’t look at her as he said, "Uh, okay."

He glanced at her and reluctantly handed her the papers as he rushed to the front door.

Following him to the door, she watched with a guilty grin as he hurried to his car, never looking back. Then she closed the door, walked into the kitchen, grabbed the phone, and sat at the island, reviewing the quiz and shaking her head. A big smile appeared on her face as she dialed Victoria’s number.

End of excerpt -
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