AT ONCE, Earl Grey’s mouth is upon me. His arms crawl up the back of my robe as his tongue penetrates my lips. Our mouths create an airtight seal, and our tongues battle it out for supremacy. His is the more dominant tongue; I let my tongue go limp and submit fully to Earl Grey. For the first time in my life, I have found my purpose: to be a doormat for this ridiculously wealthy, attractive, impossible-to-resist man.
Suddenly, he withdraws his tongue and releases me from his grasp.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have started kissing so soon after eating. Your mouth tastes like you ate an entire garlic bulb.”
“That’s because I did,” I say.
He sighs. “Go brush your teeth. I’ll wait here.”
I lower my gaze and walk to the bathroom. I close the door. There’s only one toothbrush on the sink, and it belongs to Earl Grey. I pick it up and run the bristles over my lips. It’s like a six-inch piece of Earl. I slide the toothbrush into my mouth and, angling my head and neck, slowly ease it down my throat. Mmmmm . . . I can’t wait to deep throat Earl’s—
“Hurry up, woman,” he says from the next room, startling me. I drop the toothbrush straight down my throat. I’m such an idiot! My inner guidette rolls her eyes. The toothbrush is caught in my esophagus; I can’t breathe. I clutch my throat and try coughing, but it’s no use. My body crumples to the floor . . .
“What is going on in there, Anna?” Earl says with concern in his voice.
I try to call out, but nothing comes out of my mouth except drool.
The door swings open, and Earl Grey stands above me. Earl Grey, my savior!
“My God, Anna, what are you doing on the floor?”
I motion to my throat with both hands. Earl, immediately sensing the gravitas of the situation, props me into a sitting position. He kneels behind me and wraps his arms around me. He attempts the Heimlich maneuver, but it’s no use. I’m fading into unconsciousness quickly . . .
Earl lays me on my back and tilts my head back. “I can’t lose you, Anna,” he says. “I can’t!”
He pushes his long fingers into my mouth. I feel them creeping down my throat. He carefully backs his fingers out, holding the toothbrush between his impossibly long index and middle fingers. I breathe again, and it’s the sweetest breath I’ve ever taken. Air is like cable TV: you don’t appreciate it until you don’t have it.
“Thank you,” I say to Earl. If his fingers weren’t so freakishly long, I would be dead right now.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Anna,” he says. It’s an emotional moment, and we both pause to gaze at each other. Is he going to kiss me again?
Earl stands up and helps me to my feet, for the second time in two days. Or the third time. I’m losing track of how often he saves me from myself.
“Now brush your teeth,” he says. “That garlic is really quite overpowering.”
I nod. He closes the door on his way out of the bathroom. No playing around now. Just brush your teeth, go out there, and ride his D to O-Town, my inner guidette says. You got this, babe!
I squeeze out a dollop of mint toothpaste onto Earl Grey’s toothbrush and begin polishing my teeth. The faster you do this, the sooner you can lose your virginity to Earl Grey. Mmmmm . . . Earl Grey . . . The more I think about him, the more the toothbrush becomes him, and I swear I don’t know how it happens but thirty seconds later I’m on the floor, choking again.
I’m lying on my back on the bed, the same position I started the morning in. The big difference is that Earl Grey is now hovering over me. Well, not literally hovering, because that would mean we’re in zero gravity or that Earl can levitate, but you get the idea. He’s, like, on top of me. We’re both in our robes still. He has just saved me from choking twice in the span of three minutes. My breath still reeks of garlic.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment forever,” he says.
“We just met last week,” I say. “How can that be?”
“You take everything so literally, Anna. I love that about you.”
“So you haven’t been waiting for this moment forever?”
He laughs that wicked Earl Grey laugh. “Oh, Anna . . .”
Earl unties the cloth belt holding my robe together. I shudder. Oh my . . . We’re really going to do this. He slowly opens my robe, exposing my pale skin to the air. He runs the back of his fingers down the length of my body from my neck to my untrimmed thigh hair. He smiles at me, though he smiles most of the time. Maybe I should just start mentioning when he’s not smiling? That would be easier.
“I’ve never done this before,” I say meekly. I shut my eyes in embarrassment.
“Never had sex in a hotel room?” he says, cradling my face in his hand. I kiss his palm.
“Never had sex . . . at all,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything. I open my eyes.
“I know, Anna,” he says. “I’ve read transcripts of all your therapist appointments from the time you were sixteen until last week. You don’t think you’re desirable, but you don’t know the power you have . . .”
“You’re not mad?” I say.
“Why would I be?”
I shrug. “I didn’t think most guys wanted to date virgins. We’re not very experienced, and we usually have emotional hang-ups involving sex.”
“Who said we’re dating?”
Gulp. It’s like I was following the bread crumbs on a trail to his heart, but a big bird came along and ate them all. The trail of bread crumbs has gone cold.
“I already told you, I’m not a ‘girlfriend’ kind of guy, Anna,” he says, scolding me. “But that reminds me . . .”
Earl reaches a hand into his robe and pulls out a thick manila envelope. He sits up on his knees and hands it to me. Uh-oh. What is this?
“It’s a quiz,” he says.
“A quiz?” I say, holding it. “What kind of quiz?”
“The kind you might find in Cosmo,” he says, and the smirk is back. How I missed his smirk! “It’s a sex quiz, baby.”