Chapter 7

" B ecause you faked it."

Jazz's heart fell into her stomach. He'd noticed? No one had ever noticed.

"Of course I didn't," she said quickly, playing dumb and hoping her face didn't betray her.

Liam frowned, his brows drawing together. "You did. It's okay, but you never have to do that. If you're not enjoying something, you can tell me. I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

He pulled out of her, still hard, and, despite the fact that her orgasm had, once again, disappeared the second she got close enough to grab it, her body was desperate to have him back inside her.

Jazz sighed, rolling the tension from her shoulders. "How the hell did you notice? No one has ever noticed."

"How could I not notice?" Liam replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You didn't notice last time," she grumbled, and Liam's eyes widened, a stunned expression falling across his face.

"What the fuck? Are you telling me you also faked it last time ? And I was so drunk I couldn't even tell." He said the last part under his breath, like he was disappointed with himself.

Jazz flexed her hands just to give herself something to do with them. "It's not your fault."

At this, Liam looked somehow more aghast. "Are you kidding me? Of course it's my fault. Clearly I'm doing something wrong and?—"

"Liam."

He paused his tirade, and she weighed up her options. She could make some excuse, try and find something to say that wouldn't have him blaming himself for her body's inability to come. But she could see how much he was beating himself up about it, and she hated it. So that left option B: she could tell him the truth. She could finally open up and tell someone, other than her OBGYN, who had been useless anyway, that she couldn't come. Liam wouldn't judge her. It was fine.

She took a deep breath, as if readying herself for battle. "I haven't had an orgasm in ten years."

Liam blinked at her like she'd spoken a different language. "I'm sorry. It sounded like you just said you haven't had an orgasm in ten years."

"I did say that."

"Holy shit." Liam rubbed his face with his hands, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yep. "

"Like at all? Not even alone?"

She shook her head, and he loosed a long breath. "Holy shit," he repeated and, despite how awkward the whole situation was, Jazz couldn't help but laugh. This, it seemed, just concerned Liam more. He rubbed his temples, shifting so he was sitting with his legs crossed. How the hell did a grown man look so good sitting criss-cross applesauce naked and hard ? Jesus.

"Are you… okay? Have you spoken to a doctor? There could be some kind of medical reason."

"I'm fine. Frustrated, don't get me wrong, but otherwise all good. I saw my doctor after I realized I hadn't been able to come for a few months, and I mention it every year when I see my OBGYN, but there doesn't seem to be any kind of medical problem." She shrugged. She knew it sounded bad, but she was used to it. It wasn't a big deal. "It's fine. I still have sex—obviously—and I still enjoy it. I just don't finish."

Her explanation did nothing to reassure Liam. If anything, his frown was just getting deeper. "Why didn't you say anything? I get not mentioning it last time, we were both so fucking drunk, but if I'd known I would've?—"

"I've never told anyone," she interrupted. "Other than my doctor. Not even Maggie knows."

"Seriously? But you tell Maggie everything."

"The first few times it happened, I wrote it off as stress because I was taking extra classes that semester." Her parents had threatened to stop paying her tuition if she didn't pick up extra classes, and Jazz had barely been juggling her regular class load. "By the time I realized something was wrong, Maggie was dealing with a lot with her parents and I didn't want to worry her. And later it felt like it had been going on for too long." Even to her ears, it sounded like a stream of weak excuses.

The truth was, she wasn't sure why she hadn't told Maggie. It was easier, she supposed, to be the fun friend who planned adventures and pulled Maggie out of her shell—sometimes willingly, sometimes not. It wasn't that she never shared her problems with Maggie, she just didn't share any problems that were more than mild inconveniences. Probably because Maggie wouldn't be on board with Jazz avoiding shit and would insist they deal with whatever it was together. And she couldn't let Maggie help her deal with things, because if she couldn't fix them, Maggie would blame herself.

"You should talk to her about it. Maggie's your person," Liam said and Jazz grimaced. That was twice Liam had caught her not sharing everything with the person she claimed she shared everything with, twice she'd had nothing better than a weak explanation of why she hadn't.

"I'll think about it. But what I'm trying to say," she continued, "is that this isn't a reflection of your… skills." She cringed at the word, and Liam's lips flattened into a thin line. "I'm just saying, it's not you, it's me. Literally."

"No one's faked it with me since high school," Liam said, and Jazz stared at him in disbelief.

"Now that is a level of self confidence even I don't possess. "

"Obviously there have been people I haven't been able to make come, but they've never faked it. I'm serious. It's kind of my thing." Pink tinged the edge of Liam's ears, and Jazz got the feeling that he'd be bright red if he wasn't still processing everything she'd thrown at him.

"Making people come is your thing?" He nodded, and she hummed. "So what, you're like a pleasure dom or something?"

Liam tilted his head. "Among other things, yeah."

She raised her brows, impressed. "Damn. What is going on in that Michaelson DNA?" Pleasure dom might actually put Daddy Michaelson to shame, and Jazz desperately wanted to know what other things Liam had up his sleeve. She also wanted to tell Maggie, but there was no world in which Maggie would want details of Cal's son's sexual proclivities.

Liam wrinkled his nose. "What does that me—actually no, I don't want to know. Never mind."

"What's your record?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows and pretending not to notice the way Liam's eyes followed her breasts as they bounced.

"Thirty-six in five hours," he said and Jazz whistled.

"Damn. It couldn't be me. Clearly."

Her attempt at a joke fell flat. Liam groaned, running a hand through his hair. His dark brown waves were messy, thanks to her grabbing at them while he went down on her. She'd come close so many times, and Jazz couldn't deny her disappointment that she hadn't quite been able to get herself over the edge. It certainly wasn't for Liam's lack of trying.

"Are you seriously telling me you're okay with the fact that you haven't come in a decade ?"

"Define okay. Would I like to orgasm? God, yes, but it is what it is. Apparently my body doesn't want to do it."

Liam sighed, lying down beside her and turning onto his side so he was facing her. She mirrored him, their noses mere inches apart. He reached out, running his fingers through the tangles in the ends of her hair before pushing it over her shoulders. "I could try."

She quirked a brow. "Was that not you trying? Because Jesus, that was fucking incredible—lack of orgasm aside."

"Of course I was trying, but we can try something different. Like I said, this is my thing. I have a lot of… techniques, I guess. Not to mention a shit ton of toys at home. I want to make this happen for you."

He spoke so earnestly, his emerald eyes so open and intense, that Jazz's spine tensed. She swallowed, looking away from him. "I'm not a challenge, Liam."

"What? Shit, no, I didn't mean it like that, darling. I'm sorry." He grabbed her hand from where it rested on her stomach and brought it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "I want to help. You helped me by coming to the wedding, and I want to do this for you."

She should have known that he would take it so seriously, should have known he'd be so damn nice about it. This was Liam, after all. "I love the enthusiasm, buddy, but I think this ship has long since sailed. It's all good, don't worry about. I still enjoyed myself and I can still finish you?—"

"Absolutely fucking not." His voice was firm, almost commanding. She'd never heard him like that before.

"I don't get it," she replied with a growl of frustration. "What's in this for you? And don't just say it's because we're friends and you care about me. Even you aren't that selfless." She wasn't entirely convinced that was true.

"What's in it for me?" Liam's answering laugh coiled through her like an asp, dark and sensual, humorless. "I've been dreaming about feeling you come all over me for years . Since that first day when I spotted you at the office, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. It's been fucking torture knowing we were together in February and I can't remember it. And knowing I was inside you but didn't get to see you finish? Unbearable." Her heart stilled, her breath catching in her chest.

"When I say this is my thing, I don't mean that I take it as a challenge to see how many times I can get someone to come. I mean that what gets me off is getting other people off, knowing I made it happen, over and over again until they can't handle anymore. I don't even need anyone to lay a finger on me to make me come. I just need to make them fall apart and I lose it. But you? I'm not sure I'd survive making you come, darling, but God, I want to try."

"Oh," Jazz breathed. What was she supposed to say to that? His eyes blazed, emerald flames enticing her to agree. And she wanted to. It surprised her, but she was actually considering it. She'd come closer to finishing with Liam than she had in a decade. If anyone was going to figure out how to make her come, it was probably him.

"Have you really been thinking about this for that long?" she asked and despite making it through an entire monologue about how much he loved making people come, it was that that made him blush.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. After India and I broke up, I really wasn't interested in anyone else. You were the first person who piqued that interest."

"Other than the time you asked Maggie on a date," Jazz pointed out and he glared at her.

"Sure, excluding that, I guess, but that was more me trying to force myself out of my shell, and I'd really love to pretend it didn't happen."

"That's too bad. I will continue to bring it up every chance I get."

"You're a menace."

His low chuckle made heat pool deep within her, bringing her back to the question at hand: were they going to do this? She drew in a long breath, counted to three, and blew it out. Why the hell not?

"Okay, yeah. We can try. But it might take a while."

If Liam was surprised that she'd agreed, he didn't show it. He gave her a reassuring smile. "We're in no rush."

True. She'd waited ten years—she'd been forced to have patience whether she wanted to or not. "Right. But I don't want you to feel bad if I can't come and you do," she replied, gesturing to his still hard cock.

He considered her for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope. That's not how this is going to work."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean until you come, I don't come."

Surely she hadn't heard him correctly. She stared at him, open-mouthed, before finally saying, "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"So what, you're telling me you're not even going to masturbate?"

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement at her skepticism. "Nope."

"But this could take months!" Years, even. Hell, for all she knew, it wasn't even possible.

"I can wait."

Jesus. He was being serious. Did he have some kind of masochism kink to go along with his orgasm kink? "That sounds like a challenge I can win."

"I'd like to see you try, darling," Liam replied, his emerald eyes twinkling. "Does this mean you're in?"

She blew out a long breath. "You realize how crazy that sounds, don't you?" she asked, but Liam shrugged, as if he couldn't see the problem. "Wow. Okay. I guess I'm in."

She held out her hand for him to shake and he did so, but didn't let go, threading their fingers together and letting their hands rest comfortably on the bed between instead. "Can you seriously come just from making someone else come?" He nodded, an errant curl falling across his forehead. She reached out and brushed it away. "Damn. I really want to see that."

His lips lifted at the corner, his dimples popping out as a smile crossed his face. "Then let's make it happen, Jasmine."