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“Okay, two things,” he manages to get out between chuckling. “First, when we’re acting as friends, you may call me Noah. It sounds really weird being this formal on the phone. And finally, you’re far too smart for a girl your age. There are certain things a young woman shouldn’t know about, and having a terrible relationship due to lack of orgasms is one of them.”
“Lack of orgasms is a huge problem in our society, Noah. A woman will do just about anything to reach that perfect, euphoric place. That’s why we get all crazy and shit….It’s because we’re having lousy sex.”
“You’re still too young to know these things.” He chuckles again.
“I’m old enough to know that I’ve had more sex in the last month than in my entire life and I’m feeling rather crazy.”
“Because you’re not getting your orgasms? Are you sure it’s not because it’s that time of the month?” he jokes.
“I promise. If I was having great, mind-blowing sex, I’d be in a much better mood.”
“There will be plenty of boys in your future that will help you fix that problem. For now you should just worry about getting through this semester. You probably should get to sleep. Classes in the morning and all,” he says, trying to change the subject.
“It was really nice talking to you, Noah. Thanks for being a friend.”
&
nbsp; “I’m always here. Anything you need, just let me know.” I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but all I can think is he just offered me an orgasm. The image of us rolling around in the sheets, hot and sweaty, our bodies connected, invades my senses and my aroused state only gets worse as I think about him. On me, in me, touching me.
Stop it. Don’t let him in like this. Cat and mouse. You have to win.
“Look, I gotta go. I’m sorry for bothering you.” I end the call and sit up. My heart is racing as I wipe my sweaty palms on my robe. He’s getting to me and I have no idea why. I have to remain in control, because right now that’s all I have. I reach for my phone again and tap out a message.
Me: Thanks Noah. Just talking to you made me feel loads better.
Chapter 6
Noah
I glance at the message on my phone. My heart pounding. Had that really just happened? I nearly keeled over when she started talking about orgasms. Hell, I haven’t spoken about sex this in-depth since I was a teenager. Sex with Shannon is very controlled and repetitive—when we even have it.
I tap back a reply, wondering what the hell I’m doing. What do I hope to get out of this? That entire phone call should have never happened. I should have stopped it before it went any further, but no, I have to make everything more difficult. I’ve known people who have lost their lives because they needed a friend and nobody was around. I think that’s why I allow her to get away with things I would have put a stop to with anyone else. She just seems so damn familiar. I can’t let her end up like…Nope. Not going there. I’ll be a friend to her, help her all I can.
I just have to be careful. Because one thing is for sure: I’m walking a very fine line with this girl.
Me: I’m glad I could help. I’m here anytime you need me.
Zara: Do you really mean that?
Me: Of course I do.
I can’t be sure that I actually mean it. I know I want to, but if this thing escalates, I’ll have to put a stop to it. My mom was a fan of those student-teacher movies in which the student is a complete wack job. I know how these things can end up if the person who’s supposed to be in control doesn’t make sure he stays that way.
Zara: What do I do about Dillon?
Me: You have to do what’s right for you.
Zara: Always?
Me: Yes. Always.
Look at me telling this young girl that she has to do what’s right for her, and I won’t even take my own advice. If I would, then I wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end relationship with Shannon. I’m such a fucking hypocrite.
Zara: I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Noah.
Me: Sleep well. You have class in the morning
Zara: But my favorite class isn’t until afternoon. *wink*
