Chapter 9

Tom set his water down on the nightstand and climbed into Carmina’s bed. She probably wanted to kick him out, but he wasn’t ready to go. He’d just committed the cardinal guy sin of getting off when his bed partner didn’t. He felt like slime and he needed to understand where Carmina’s head was at. He adjusted the pillows behind him, pulling the blankets up to his waist. He wasn’t really that cold, but he wasn’t sure how Carmina would feel if he got wood just from being in bed with her, talking.

She came to the door and stood there staring at him. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She had the most unreadable face he’d ever seen, unless she wanted to convey something without words. Then she became animated and you could tell exactly what she was thinking. But it was like turning a screen on and off with her. Maybe because she did have to speak without words for so long, she learned not to give away anything she didn’t want you to know. Or maybe he was just an idiot who couldn’t read her and everyone else could. Who knew?

She looked damn good in his shirt. It was totally a possessive guy thing and he knew it. If he had to tell someone why he liked her in it, he’d sound like a Neanderthal asshole. So he’d keep it to himself. But he definitely wanted to see her in one of his shirts again. “Are you going to stand there staring at me all night or are you going to get into bed?” he asked. “It’s warm and cozy in here.” He pulled back the blanket invitingly. “If you’re worried I’m going to trespass on your side of the bed, have no fear. I come in peace. No pun intended.” She laughed and he relaxed.

“Give me back my pillow,” she said. She held the shirt down modestly as she climbed into bed beside him. Quickly, she pulled the blanket up to her waist, too. Tom pulled one of the pillows out from behind his back and slid it behind her. She leaned back and he rolled over onto his side, propping his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“So, what’s going on with you?” he asked. She shrugged, picking at the blanket, not looking at him. “I’ll go first then,” he said. She glanced over in surprise. “I wish you had told me what was going on before it got that far.” She bit her lip, but he waited her out.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t…I thought you would fix me.” She shrugged again.

“Well, that’s not too much pressure,” he said and heaved a big sigh. “Why do you need fixing?”

The look she gave him said, “Duh.”

“You know, everyone has issues with that sometimes,” he told her gently. “It doesn’t mean you’re broken or need fixing.”

“For three years?” she asked sarcastically. “If something doesn’t work for three years, I think it’s safe to say it’s broken.”

“Have you had a lot of sex?” he asked curiously. There was no judgment or condescension in his tone. She shook her head. “Okay. Have you had any sex?”

“With someone else?” she asked. Her expression would have given him the answer if her question hadn’t.

“Why not?”

“My sex switch isn’t the only broken thing,” she said sarcastically. She pointed to her head.

“I think your head is fine,” Tom told her. “We’re not having any trouble communicating.”

“You don’t know anything,” she told him impatiently. He felt that one. How many times had he been accused of that? She must have seen something in his expression. “About this,” she added. “Me.”

“I’m trying,” Tom said, holding on to his patience with effort. “But you’re not letting me in. Let me in, Carmina. You brought me into this. You picked me. So let me help.”

She slumped down in the bed, looking more like a stubborn kid than the sexy woman who’d held him so tightly not long ago. “No one can help.”

“Who have you asked about it? Are you seeing a therapist?” He reached over and rubbed her thigh through the blanket. He missed touching her already. He was relieved when she didn’t push his hand away.

“No,” she admitted. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She had sexy little ears, tiny with distinctive whorls. Her ears were pierced, but only once, and she wore really small silver hoops. He liked the simplicity of it.

“Why not?” he asked when he realized she wasn’t going to explain further.

“I already see a physical therapist, and I do group sessions at the VA, and I have to go see a psychologist about any PTSD issues. I already see too many people.” She looked down at her lap. “I just want to be normal.” She looked over at him, her expression miserable. For once, she wasn’t hiding from him. “I did ask my doctor. I did. And he said everything was fine, physically. He said I just needed to give myself time to get over…” She waved her hand in a kind of circular motion that he interpreted as “You know.”

“That sounds like good advice,” Tom said cautiously.

“I want to have sex,” she said, her frustration brimming over in the words. “I want to have an orgasm. I like having orgasms. I used to. And I want to again.” She glared at him. “Maybe that’s not cool for me to admit. I don’t care.”

“No, it’s cool,” Tom said. “I’d go crazy if I couldn’t get off.”

“Exactly,” she said, pointing at him. “See?”

“Okay, let’s think about this logically. What have you tried?” Tom sat up and faced her, sitting cross-legged. “I mean, if you haven’t had sex with anyone but me, then that could be part of the problem.”

“Everything I read said I needed to try to do it by myself first,” she told him, reluctance in her voice. She was blushing.

“So you’ve been masturbating for three years?” He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Not gonna lie, that’s sort of a turn-on.” He popped his eyes open. “Hand or toy?” he asked. She made a face at him. “Purely for purposes of crossing off what you’ve tried,” he lied. “It’s not like I’m going to start fantasizing about it while I jack off.” He totally was.

“Both,” she said tiredly. “I have a whole drawer of vibrators and dildos that didn’t work.” Tom had to forcibly restrain himself from ripping open every drawer in her room to find them. “So I thought maybe I needed the real thing.”

“Me?” He pointed at his chest.

“Someone,” she said, and that kind of hurt, too, but he wasn’t going to go there.

“Glad you picked me,” he said with complete honesty. “I’ve had a thing for you for a while now.”

“Oh, God,” she said, closing her eyes. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asked in confusion.

“Because I didn’t know and I probably, I don’t know, embarrassed you. I don’t know.” She was repeating herself and Tom got the impression he’d upset her.

“Well of course you didn’t know,” he told her. “You weren’t supposed to. You don’t tell your secret crush you have a thing for them. That’s why it’s called secret.” She gave a reluctant laugh. “I’m just saying you made my day,” he told her, squeezing her thigh. “Fantasy come true.” She blushed furiously. He liked making her do that.

“So, vibrators and dildos didn’t work,” he said. “And neither did I. So what should we try next?”

“We?” she asked, her voice a little higher than usual.

“Sure,” he said, bluffing his way through. “You asked for my help. I’m not a quitter. Surely you know that by now? I’m not giving up until you come so hard you scream.”

“Tonight?” That was definitely panic in her voice.

“No.” He fake yawned but it turned into a real one. “I’m too tired.” He climbed off the bed. “Want me to stay the night?” he asked hopefully. “I can do sleepovers. My mom said it was okay.” She laughed.

“No, I’m good,” she said. He tried not to be upset by the relief in her voice.

“Tomorrow, let’s think about what we can try next,” he said as he pulled on his jeans. “And we can get together tomorrow night and compare notes.”

“We can?” she asked, shock in her voice.

“Unless you’re busy?” he asked. He hadn’t even thought of that.

“No, not busy,” she said. “Okay. Text me.”

“No number,” Tom said. He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and unlocked it. “Here. Put your number in.” He handed it to her and watched as she typed it in. When she handed it back Tom hit Edit and changed her name. “Carmina the Sexy,” he read aloud as he typed.

“Stop it,” she said, laughing as she came to her knees and tried to grab the phone. “Let me see.” He held up the phone out of her reach so she could read the screen. “What will people think?” she asked.

“That I think you’re sexy,” Tom told her with a shrug. “That’s not a big secret.”

“I’m not sexy,” she said. “I’m too big and I can’t talk right. Who thinks that’s sexy?” Tom would have thought she was joking if he wasn’t looking at her and could see the sincerity in her face.

“Me,” he said. “Nigel, Rasheed. Danny,” he added. “That’s just four. I’m pretty sure if I polled the team, we’d probably have a majority vote.”

“Not Sam,” she said. “Or King.”

“Maybe King,” Tom speculated. “But he wouldn’t say it out loud. And you’re right, Sam would beat the hell out of me if I asked the team. We’re not supposed to look at you like that.”

“What?” she asked. “Did he tell you that?”

“Not in so many words,” Tom said, backtracking, not wanting to get Sam in trouble. “But you’re like his sister, and that’s against the teammate code. You know? Can’t date teammates’ sisters.”

“Hmm,” she said, clearly not buying it.

“Good night, Carmina the Sexy,” he teased. He picked up his shoes and headed for the bedroom door. “See you tomorrow.”

“What about your shirt?” she called out.

“Looks better on you,” he called back. “Give it back to me dirty.” He closed the door on her laughter.

He wasn’t laughing as he waited for the elevator. He’d thought he had a thing for her before tonight. Now, after being with her and talking to her, he knew he was in trouble. This had the potential to be a lot more than just a thing, for him at least. He’d downplayed it with her because he hadn’t wanted to upset her more than she already was, but the fact that he hadn’t been able to make her come was embarrassing, and seriously disappointing. They’d figure this thing out together, and by the time they were done, maybe she’d be crazy about him. That would be nice. He’d told her the truth when he told her he wasn’t a quitter. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to quit on her.