In a fit of desperation, she’d ended up ditching her clothes and laying herself out on her table, taking care of herself in front of him. Most men orgasmed all over themselves when she did that, and Adrian’s eyes had never left her. And still…
“He never got hard.” For shit’s sake, she wished she could get those images out of her brain. “It was a nightmare.”
“And again, I say, it sounds to me as if you’re blaming yourself.”
“If I’d been more attractive, or if I’d only have—”
“Has it never occurred to you that there could be a medical reason for the issue?”
“There hasn’t been in the past.”
“Things change. People can develop conditions that make sex difficult, or go on medications that complicate arousal.”
Unfortunately, this was one of the corners she and her therapist occasionally came to, where the reality didn’t fit the fake construction: Immortals like Adrian didn’t need Cialis or Viagra; they didn’t roll over one morning with circulatory problems or go on enough antidepressants to deflate their dicks. It was one of the perks of not living under the burden of an expiration date.
“Devina, you wouldn’t expect a case of diabetes to be cured by a seductive glance, would you? Of course not. So it could well be the same here. Perhaps, no matter what you or he wanted or did, intercourse would have been impossible.”
There were a lot of times when the woman’s advice was spot-on. This was not one of them, unfortunately.
“Did you talk with him about what happened and how it made you feel?”
“No.” Devina shook her head. “He had to go, and I dressed and followed him out. Then we spent some time together.”
They’d ended up back on Earth, at a Target, of all things. She’d followed him around as he’d picked out clothes from the young women’s racks, hideous little things that were made with all the sophistication and skill of an eight-year-old’s paper airplanes.
She’d guessed that they were for darling Sissy—which was the only reason Devina hadn’t pulled rank and dragged him over to Saks. The worse that girl looked, the better.
Actually, on the humiliation scale, it was hard to know what ranked worse—all that flaccid, or the shopping excursion from hell. And it was strange—the closest Devina had ever come to being cock-whipped was when she was with Jim. But Adrian’s lack of response had been so upsetting, she hadn’t known what to do with herself. She’d been brought to heel like a dog, walking around those pinwheels full of cheap clothes behind him, docile as a retriever.
After that? He was hungry—so they’d gone to TGIFriday’s in Lucas Square.
She hadn’t even been able to enjoy the agog stares of the other patrons when she’d walked in with all her couture.
The potato skins with bacon hadn’t been half-bad, though. And the fudge brownie had lifted her spirits a little, although that hadn’t lasted past the sugar buzz.
Sitting across from each other, they hadn’t talked much, but what was there to be said? Being enemies was a fun thing, except when it wasn’t.
“You know, Devina, it’s possible he’s blaming himself in an equally erroneous fashion.”
“I doubt it. He’d seemed fine, actually.” Which was one more ass slapper. That Adrian hadn’t been bothered one way or the other had been an insult. You’d think he’d have the grace to be even slightly affected.
He’d come to her for the sex, after all.
“Are you going to see him again?”
Devina shrugged. “Undoubtedly I will.” She smoothed her short skirt again. “I’m not sure I want to though. Not in a big hurry to relive all of that.”
“You know, Devina, I have to ask. Is there anything else that’s going on for you right now? Sometimes our reactions are compounded by…”
As the woman droned on, an image of Jim Heron looking at Sissy with possession in his eyes came to mind. Talk about your stingers. And maybe the therapist had a point. Adrian was second in line at this point on her Metaphysical Fuckable List—and having a bad experience with him would have mattered so much less if the angel at the top hadn’t been so enamored of someone else.
Set a bad stage, as it were.
“… sorry you’re being challenged like this, but it presents an opportunity to develop new coping skills. I imagine you’re feeling very triggered?”
As a matter of fact, she was. The compulsive need to perform an extensive review of her collection, the whole thing, was trembling on the edge of her consciousness, about to become an earthquake that took over every thought or feeling or priority.
“My suggestion,” the therapist interjected, “is to do something that makes you feel beautiful, instead. Maybe it’s journaling about all your positive attributes, your accomplishments, your successes. Perhaps it’s meeting up with a friend and having a nice meal. A yoga class.”
Ha. Been there, done that. And it had made her want to commit murder—no doubt not the direction that the therapist was going in.
“I want you to think in terms of self-affirming things. It is important for you to reach out beyond the compulsions—to find solace and purpose within yourself and your support system. Be creative. Have fun with it. But above all, know that the more you stretch yourself to explore your feelings, tolerating the bad ones and discovering that they too shall pass, the stronger and better off you will be. You can do this, Devina. I have faith in you.”
Devina looked across at the woman. Given that her therapist wore a cross around her thick neck, one could extrapolate the irony if she knew that she’d just tried to inspire a demon.
Surprise!
And, you know, Devina was almost tempted to drop her slipcover, just to see the reaction—and to give some credibility to her statements about how hideous she really was. But what stopped her was all the dead-serious in the woman’s face. The therapist honestly believed everything she was saying, and that was kind of touching.
“So I just leave here …” Devina cleared her throat. “And…”
“Anything that keeps you from acting on a ritual. The best thing to do, especially as denying the urges becomes more uncomfortable, is to go about your life. Focus on self-affirmation, and activities that give you a sense of mastery. Anything that will root you in all of the strength you possess. You can do this.”
“Be creative. Have fun with it, huh?”