Page 31 of The Wrong Billionaire
“Okay.”
She rubs her nose. “Why aren’t you running away at a million miles an hour?”
“Because I’m interested in learning more. Why don’t you like sex? Is it painful?”
“No…”
“Do you get… embarrassed?”
“Not really. It’s just… a mystery.”
“In what way? Do you understand what happens?”
She gives me a wry look. “Yes, Mars. I understand the physics of it. I know that Tab A goes into Slot B. I even understand it goes into other slots at times. That’s not the issue. I just don’t understand what all the fuss is about. It’s nice, and intimate, and I enjoy being close to my partner. But there are all these… expectations surrounding it.”
“You mean about whatyouexpect? Or what the guy expects?”
“What the guy expects.”
“Regarding… experience?”
“No.”
“So you don’t mean, like, techniques? Positions, that kind of thing?”
“No.”
I try to read between the lines. “Are you talking about orgasms?”
She shrugs.
I lift my feet onto the rock below and rest my elbows on my knees. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“They want you to come?” I ask. “And you don’t?”
Another shrug.
“Okay. Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Um… I’m not sure.”
Oh, God, Wren. You poor girl.
“It takes such a long time,” she admits. “That’s the problem.”
Ahhh… I think I’m beginning to understand.
“It takes most women longer than most men,” I tell her. “That’s not uncommon at all.”
She just frowns.
“Have you spoken to a doctor about it?” I ask.
“No. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure there isn’t. I am, however, ninety-nine percent sure your boyfriends were idiots.”
“What do you mean?”
