Hilary Fields - Bliss

“Can we ignore that?” Sera asked, nuzzling closer.

“I only booked the tub for an hour,” Asher said regretfully. He kissed the juncture where her neck and shoulder met, soothing the sensual fires he’d started, then eased her off his lap as though it was physically painful to part from her. “Come, Bliss. I’d better take you home.”

“Darn right,” she said, taking his face in both hands and kissing him deeply. “Your home.”

Asher studied her seriously. “You’re sure?”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Maybe the elusive orgasm would finally be hers. Maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, she wanted to be with Asher tonight. “Mr. Wolf, I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Asher abandoned the tub in record time.

Moment of truth.

Standing with Asher in his sparsely furnished bedroom, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the skylight above them, Sera expected to find herself fairly coming apart at the seams. Always in the past, she’d been uptight, anxious in intimate moments. The few boys she’d been with in college had been about as clueless as Sera herself, and with her native shyness, she’d never really managed to relax and enjoy their ministrations. She’d get so far, and then just… freeze up.

And then would come the visions.

Pauline, watching expectantly over the boy’s shoulder. Pauline, shaking her head at Sera’s awkward caresses. Pauline, wearing pom-poms and a cheerleading outfit, doing cartwheels and chanting fight songs that ended in “cum, cum, cum” instead of “go, go, go.” And worst of all, Pauline, demonstrating clitoral stimulation techniques.

The harder she’d try to tune out her aunt, the more intrusive the images would become.

She’d figured she’d eventually warm up, get over her awkwardness, and—please, God—stop being haunted by Pauline’s passion pep talks. But then came Blake.

The charismatic chef had instantly attracted her. She’d craved his admiration, his affection, and at first, when he’d hit on her, she’d thought she’d hit the big time. A worldly, experienced lover. So debonair, so exciting. Surely, now… She’d had high hopes. But Blake hadn’t been overly interested in Sera’s satisfaction. He’d been a “wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am” sort of lover—only without the “thank you.” And when Sera—tentatively, shyly—had gotten up the nerve to ask him to slow down, maybe try a few things she thought she’d like, he’d practically tossed her out of bed on her keister.

And then he’d mocked her.

Frigid. Hopeless. Deadweight. Those were just a few of the taunts he’d hurled at her during the time they had dated. He’d made her feel she was lucky he even tolerated her presence in his bed, given what a lousy lay she was. But in hindsight, Sera had to wonder—who’d really been the one with sexual shortcomings? Hadn’t it been Blake who was impatient and selfish? She’d tried her best, but after a time she’d come to realize he actually preferred it when she lay there like a dutiful fifties housewife, letting Blake take, as he put it, “what little satisfaction he could.” That way, she realized, he could concentrate on what Blake liked best—Blake.

The part that shamed her, to this day, was how long she’d let him.

She’d let Blake make her feel fearful, inadequate. But tonight, with Asher, she felt neither. What she felt like was grabbing her date’s nice button-down shirt and rending it open in one great rip.

So she did.

Or tried anyway.

The first button popped off easily enough, but the rest, well… “Whoever sewed these on must have had serious OCD,” she muttered, yanking futilely at the fabric.

Asher laughed and laid his hands over hers to still her pillaging. “Slow down, Bliss,” he said. “We have all night.”

“You don’t have to treat me like some delicate virgin, you know,” Sera said. “It’s very gallant, Asher, but right now…” She trailed off, eyeing him with a sidelong smile.

“Right now?” he asked. He ran one finger down the V of her dress’s neckline and watched the goose bumps rise in its wake.

Sera could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, sensed his barely leashed energy even as she inhaled that uniquely Asher smell—hot metal, rampant male. She felt intoxicated; drunk with delight, with anticipation, with giddy knowledge that this delicious man wanted to be her lover as much as she wanted to be his. He’d primed her past the point of performance anxiety, and now she wanted only to feel his naked skin against hers, his heat and desire matching hers.

“Right now… I’d rather you ravished me senseless.” She backed him up against the bed with hands on his chest and a predatory leer. “And be warned, Asher… if you won’t, I will.”

He would.

* * *

As it happened, Sera did have a visitation just as she was approaching the much-anticipated moment of her bliss. As Asher carried her ever closer to the edge, doing extraordinary things with his talented craftsman’s fingers even as his body, so hot and sensual atop hers, drove her nearly mindless with desire, Sera saw a vision coalescing behind her closed eyes.

Please, not Pauline, she thought. Don’t let anything ruin this… this… oh, God, what did he just do with his tongue, that ought to be illegal… Please, just let this happen, I can’t believe how good this feels, oh… oh, wow, there’s no way a man ought to be able to… holy wow…

But what swam into focus as Sera soared close to climax wasn’t her aunt.

It was purple. It was petite. And… it was wearing what was undeniably a rhinestone-studded cowboy hat.

Hey! It’s my armadillo! Sera marveled.

It nodded at her, tipping its hat.

“Gesundheit,” it said.

And Sera’s world changed forever.

You’ve made Pauline a happy woman,” Sera said, rolling over atop her lover and planting a kiss on his smiling lips.

Asher, quite naked and quite obviously glad to be smothered in a blanket of Bliss, chuckled as he reciprocated. “Pauline, eh?” he said. “And what about the younger Miss Wilde?” He nudged her suggestively with his hips.

“She’s living up to her name, for once,” said Sera.

“Wilde or Bliss?” he teased.

“Both.” She giggled, wriggling playfully.

“Don’t start that up, my lovely one, or Pauline may overdose,” Asher warned.

“Oh, I think the old gal’s earned a reward,” Sera murmured. “Let’s see how happy you can make her…”

But Pauline had nothing to do with what came next—and what had already come (three times!) during one unbelievably blissful night.

* * *

An hour later, staring into the predawn sky through Asher’s bedroom skylight, Serafina began to contemplate baked goods. Malcolm had first shift, and Pauline had promised to overcome her antipathy for the pie maven and help him open the store, but Sera didn’t like to leave them alone together for too long. Besides, she had cupcakes, cookies, and tarts to create.

“Not to reverse a cliché, Asher, but I should probably sneak out in a few minutes,” she said with regret. “I’ve got to get baking pretty soon.”

His arms tightened around her, pinning her to his side in a manner that was not at all unpleasant. “Wait, please, Bliss. Before you go, there’s something I need to know.” He looked a bit chagrined. “I don’t quite know how to ask this without sounding like a heel.”

Sera was intrigued. “Give it a whirl,” she said, snuggling close with her head pillowed on his shoulder. She studied the uncomfortable expression that stamped his strong features, loving how she was learning to read his emotions. “I’ve handled a few heels in my time.”

“Bliss…” He paused, squeezed his eyes shut as though his own words pained him. “Oy gevalt,” he muttered. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but after what you told me about your troubles with your… well, with your previous attempts at intimacy… I wanted to be sure… that is…” He visibly pulled himself together and just blurted it out. “Bliss, was it good for you?”

Sera paused a beat.

“Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” she deadpanned, then burst out laughing when she saw the look on Asher’s face.

Asher growled, tickling her sides mercilessly until she shrieked.

When she could breathe again, Sera stretched up and kissed his chin, mirth fading from her eyes. “Asher, ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. You’ve given me a gift—one I won’t ever forget. You’ve… I don’t know… freed me, I guess. And it feels amazing.”

Asher looked pleased with himself. He stroked one finger along her spine, sending thrills down Sera’s back and all the way down to her toes. “You have freed me as well. I was frozen in the past for such a long time, but now I’m very much looking forward to my future. And…” He looked uncertain. “I know it’s probably too soon to speak of such things, but… Bliss, I very much hope you will be a part of that future.”

If there was a better feeling than orgasm, Sera had just discovered it. Screw chocolate. Screw winning the lotto. This was the jackpot.

“I am going to bake you such a babka,” was what she said.

Monday evening after work, the Back Room Babes piled into Bliss, took one look at Sera, and shrieked with delight.

“He’s done it!” howled Aruni.

“That’s our boy!” squealed Syna.

“Hurrah for the hot landlord!” Janice did a little dance, pumping her fists over her head.

Pauline plopped down on one of the shop’s overstuffed armchairs, letting her minions settle about her with pastries and hot cups of joe. “I take complete credit, of course,” she said. Her smile was pure smug.

Sera tried to take the ribbing with grace, topping off cups and handing out napkins for her friends as they made themselves at home in the shop. After all, for the past three days, she had spent every waking moment not otherwise occupied with hot ovens over at Asher’s house learning just how hot and steamy he could be. The BRBs weren’t the only ones who wanted to crow over Asher’s prowess. Sera just wanted to do her crowing privately. And she preferred to think of it as “expressing her passionate delight.” Decorously, of course. Never mind that she’d been expressing her delight so passionately since Friday night that Silver had taken to howling in solidarity from his kennel halfway across the house.

“Everyone got what they need?” she asked, scanning the women who’d been able to make it tonight. Bobbie, Syna, Janice, Aruni, Hortencia, and Pauline made a comfortable sextet (or sex-tête-à-tête, as Pauline had quipped) in the now-empty bakery. Sera was touched that, with only a phone call, so many of her new compadres had mobilized in her defense—and they didn’t even know what was up yet. Pauline had simply said Sera needed them, and they’d dropped everything. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a group of friends so fiercely loyal—even if they did insist on embarrassing the hell out of her.

“We know y’all got what you need, mama!” Janice joked. “One look at your face, and I can tell you’re a changed woman.”

“Yeah, sister, you glow.” This from Syna, who was beaming rather brightly herself.

Sera suspected they were confusing “glow” with “mortified flush.”

“Tell us everything, girl!” Aruni folded her legs lotus style, her slight figure barely making a dent in her armchair. “Was he gentle? Or did he go all Israeli commando on you once you hit the sheets?”

Friedrich, who’d been polishing counters with a rag as he helped close up shop, dug his ear buds deeper into his red-tinged ears and spun the dial on his iPod until Sera could distinctly hear Wagner’s The Ring of the Nibelung leaking out. He kept his eyes downcast, but Sera caught him sneaking glances at Aruni. And though the yogini tried playing it cool, Sera definitely saw Aruni peek back at the barista from beneath her unruly curls when she thought no one was looking.

A little young for her, but hey, Sera thought, smiling inwardly. The kid was reliable, diligent, and as far as she knew, not at all a putz like Aruni’s ex. Maybe mine’s not the only romance that could bloom around here, given a little attention. Hmm, maybe if I can get those two together, the BRBs will drop the topic of my love life…