The Sex Surrogate(8)

“Ava... baby,” Chase's voice called, low, gentle, like he was trying to wake someone without startling them.

Which, was exactly what happened I realized, my eyes flying open. Oh, my god. I fell asleep on him! How the hell did that happen?

“Relax,” he said, his arm wrapping around my back and squeezing slightly.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked, blinking the sleep out of my eyes.

“Maybe half an hour,” he said casually, like it was totally normal for it to happen. “Ava, do you have any idea how comfortable you need to be to fall asleep with another person?”

I knew. Oh, I knew. I had never been able to sleep when another person was even in the same room. Which made for god-awful sleepovers with friends and nights over the holidays when my family would come from out of town and people would need to be crammed into all available places... like my bedroom.

“This is good, sweetheart,” he said, and I could almost swear I felt his lips kiss the top of my head, but brushed that idea away. That wasn't possible.

I slowly pushed myself up, moving off of his chest, feeling unreasonably sad to do so. His hand slipped from mine and I put my feet back on the ground.

Behind me, he let out a sound that was almost a sigh, but not quite. Then he sat up next to me, his knee brushing against mine, turning his head to me. “I think this was a successful session. How do you feel about it?”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to share. Wanting to keep this memory pure, unexamined. But that was why we were there. To examine. To figure out what was wrong with me. To work on fixing it.

“I think it went really well,” I agreed, not wanting to go into any more detail than that.

I could feel his eyes on me for a while before he spoke again. “Thursday, same time,” he said, slowly getting onto his feet.

I followed, watching him. “Okay,” I agreed. That gave me a day and a half to recover. And prepare. He led me out through to his main office, then the waiting room in silence. When we got to the front door, he paused, and I knew I had to ask or the suspense would kill me.

“Dr. Hud...”

“Chase,” he corrected, his voice firm.

“Chase,” I agreed, trying to meet his eyes. “What, exactly, is the next session? I know you mentioned we would be...” I couldn't even say it, dropping my eyes.

“We are each going to take our clothes off,” he supplied, noting my discomfort and ignoring it. “We will kiss. You will touch me. I will touch you. But no sexual contact.”

Naked. I would be naked. He would be naked. And then he expected me to touch his naked body. And to touch mine. Shit. I really didn't think that was going to go well and...

“Ava. In the moment, okay? If you're worried about it while it goes on, we will address it then. Until then, just don't think about it.” He reached for the lock, turning it, and opened the door.

I stepped outside, surprised when he followed me... and locked the door.

“Okay,” I agreed, knowing damn well there was no way I wasn't going to stress about it, but not wanting to tell him that either. “Well, I'll see you Thursday,” I said, starting away, but he fell into step with me. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your car,” he supplied like it was obvious. “It's nighttime, sweetheart. This is a good neighborhood, but even if it was god damn Utopian, you shouldn't be walking around alone at night looking like you do.”

I looked down at my clothes, simple, chaste even. My body decent but not all that impressive beneath the material. “If you say so.”

“We need to work on that,” he said as we walked down the empty street.

“Work on what?” I asked, shivering slightly against the cool.

“On your confidence. Because it's fucking ridiculous that you can't see what everyone else does.”

What he does. What he sees when he looks at me.

Oh, my god.

I walked into the parking garage, big hulking Chase beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, and I felt his eyes on me. When I walked ahead of him, on my ass. When I walked beside him, on my face mostly, my breasts, my legs.

“This is me,” I said, waving a hand to my little blue not too old tiny hatchback.

He nodded, and I fetched my keys, unlocking my door before turning back to face him, feeling like I needed to offer some kind of goodbye.

“Thanks for... walking me,” I said, giving him a small smile.

He nodded stiffly for a second, looking like he was thinking really hard about something. Then his eyes moved up and caught mine. “We're outside the office,” he said, oddly, making my brows draw together, “I'm not supposed to do this,” he said, bringing a hand up to run through his hair, like he was struggling with something. “Fuck it,” he said.

His hand went behind my neck as his lips crashed down onto mine. Crashed. Not landed. Not pressed. Crashed. Hard. Bruising. Sending a shocked surge through my body, my arms going to his shoulders instinctively. He made a low growling sound against my lips, slamming my back up against my car as his teeth bit into my lower lip, drawing a groan out of me.

Then jut as suddenly as it started, he shoved away from me, rubbing a hand over his brow. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself as I tried to come to grips with what the hell had just happened. My body felt electric and suddenly, with his absence, so freaking cold. “Sorry,” he said, looking at me finally, moving closer. His hand reached out, running his thumb across my chin and lips, the skin feeling a bit sensitive thanks to his rough stubble. “That wasn't exactly professional of me, huh?”

“It's okay,” I said, swallowing hard.

He nodded, looking down at my lips for a long second, before moving back up to my eyes. “You touched me,” he said.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You touched me. When I kissed you. Without being told or asked to. You just did it.” Holy shit. He was right. I did. That was big. “Baby steps, but that's really good, Ava,” he said, smiling slightly. Then he reached beside me, grabbing the handle of my car door and pulling it open. “I'll see you Thursday,” he said as I slipped into the car. As he closed the door, I could swear I heard him say, “I'm looking forward to it.”

Jesus.





After the Session





The door had barely clicked closed (quietly, I might add), when Jake came walking out of his room, this time in a pair of black exercise shorts and nothing else.

“How did it go? Did you fuck him? Did you actually come?”

“Oh my god,” I said, heat rising up in my cheeks for no good reason, “it doesn't work like that, Jake.”

“That's disappointing,” he said, shrugging. “You have beard burn,” he informed me.

“What?” I asked, moving toward the kitchen, just to have something to do.

“Beard burn,” he said again, following me, watching as I filled the kettle and put tea water on the stove, “like when a guy you're making out with has a beard and it rubs against your skin, love. Beard burn.”

Well, shit. I was caught. I brought a hand up to my face, feeling the sensitive, almost inflamed skin. Beard burn. What an appropriate term. It felt exactly like rug burn did, a sensation too hard to put into words.

“So you kissed him.”

“More accurately, he kissed me,” I said, turning to the fridge to look for something to eat. I had been way too nervous to eat anything substantial before I would see him.

“But you let him.”

“Yeah,” I said, dragging out the jelly, accepting that it was going to have to be a pb&j night, seeing as I hadn't gotten around to food shopping.

“Well, this deserves a little celebration,” he said, grabbing the jelly and putting it back in the fridge. “We're going out.”

“Jake,” I said, my tone sounding so much like a mom it was almost scary, “it is a Tuesday night.”

“So the fuck what?” he asked, grabbing the knob on the stove and turning off.

“Seriously... you know I'm not an... out and about kinda person.”

“Well, until tonight, you weren't a getting kissed kinda person either. Things change. Come on,” he said, his tone more serious. “I'll buy you some food. A couple drinks. What harm can be done?”

I sighed. He was right. And I was hungry. And, really, I could use a drink or two. “Okay.” I agreed, and he smiled, then bounded off to his room to change into actual clothes, though I swear he would go out shirtless if he could get into a bar like that.





Thirty minutes later, we were in a bar. Black tables and chairs, deep reddish orange walls. There was a fair amount of people around, eating, drinking. Being normal. Jake had situated us at the bar, ordered me food and a martini, got himself a beer. Then as soon as his beer arrived, he ditched me to go flirt with a table full of young, pretty tourists.

Honestly, I should have seen it coming. I was really to blame for thinking he was genuine about celebrating my little success. Jake was all about Jake. And that was never going to change.

I sat there, picking at my appetizer sampler complete with mozzarella sticks, queso dip and chips, onion rings, and chicken strips.

“What did I say about being alone at night?”

I felt myself jump, visibly jump.

Because... what the actual fuck?

My head turned as he slid into the seat beside mine, inclining his head toward the bartender who nodded and moved to make a drink.