I can barely even open my eyes. The heat of the water coupled with all the orgasms has utterly exhausted me mentally and physically. “I hate you. Why do you keep doing that to me?”
“What? Orgasm assistance?”
My eyes snap open. “Seriously? Did you just say that? I don’t need assistance.”
“I think you do. Tell me if you’ve ever felt like that before.”
I push him away. “Leave me alone, Storm. I don’t need your help to get off.”
Lies, lies, lies. I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm prior to this weekend. It’s been a while. I fake it with Michael most of the time because I just can’t get there, and he won’t stop until he thinks I have. It’s easier to just fake it and move on. As long as he has one, I’m happy. I don’t need to have an orgasm to be happy and satisfied.
Or at least I didn’t think so. Until Storm made me hump a water jet. Wow. That felt good.
“We should go inside. I don’t want you passing out in here.”
I am too jelly-like to argue with him. I let him help me out of the tub, and I sit on a chair while he gets us towels out of a wooden cabinet off to the side of the deck. My entire body feels like mush. I dry off in silence and slowly pull my clothes back on, avoiding eye contact with him. When I’m dressed, I go back inside and leave him outside to close up the tub and turn the lights off.
It’s midnight. I just want to go to bed. The sooner I can get to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will be here, and I can get away from Storm forever. He is totally a bad influence, luring me into strange orgasmic situations I never, ever would have done under normal circumstances. I wonder if this is how he spends most of his nights, just getting woman off at every tick of the clock.
I don’t say anything to him when he comes into the house and locks the glass door behind him.
“You’re giving me the silent treatment now?” he asks, poking at the fire and adding another log. “Just because of that?”
“You know I don’t want to do those things, Storm. You keep turning my body against me.”
“Maybe you should give your body what it wants.”
No. I am not going there with him. I just want him to be quiet and leave me alone so I can go back to my normal state of being, boring as it may be.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the bedroom and you can get some sleep.”
I silently follow him down the hallway to a huge bedroom with a monstrous four-poster bed all done in mahogany wood with matching dressers. The walls are painted a deep wine color, and thick white carpet covers the floor. Off to the side is a private bathroom.
“Wow. This is beautiful.”
“Thanks. This is my room, but you can sleep in here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I know a saw another closed door in the hallway that I’m pretty sure led to another bedroom. “Isn’t there a guest room down the hall? I can sleep there, I don’t mind.”