Page 5

SARA

“ W ould you like something to drink?”

The polished brunette in a striking gray sheath dress opens a fridge in her office. “Water, white wine, passionfruit kombucha?—”

“Just water is fine.” I nibble my lip and toy with the fringe on the strap of my purse. “Actually, kombucha sounds good.”

With a brisk nod, she pours the drink into a chilled crystal glass and hands it to me.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” As she folds her hands on the desk, I spot the wedding ring on her finger. “I’m Kora Neville,” she says. “I know I introduced myself in the lobby, but you seemed a bit…”

“Insane?” I sputter my drink, since I may as well laugh at myself. “I promise I don’t normally introduce myself as ‘Sara the sex-starved virgin.’ Especially not to the janitor.”

Kora smiles kindly. “Adio is a very dear man with six grandchildren. He asked me to return this to you.” She hands me the dog-eared sex manual that I awkwardly handed the cleaning guy.

“Thanks,” I say, dying a little inside .

“So,” Kora says. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself and how you came to join us at Crystal Bliss Retreat.”

The glass of kombucha sweats in my palms, or maybe that’s just me.

Drawing a breath, I dive in. “My fiancé dumped me four weeks before our wedding because I suggested we have sex.” I guess that’s not really fair.

“I mean, that’s not totally why. He insisted we want different things in life, but he wouldn’t tell me what he wants, which is silly since we’ve dated since high school, and we’ve talked about literally everything.

I know he hates mushrooms and loves camping and S.C.U.B.A.

He knows I’m afraid of turtles and love the smell of lilacs.

We both love our families, spicy food, and horror movies.

” That’s barely the tip of the iceberg of everything Trent and I have in common.

“For crying out loud, we’d named our future children before either of us reached legal drinking age. ”

I’m talking too fast and it’s hot in here. Kora regards me with a calm look, then flips on a fan without saying a word.

“Thanks,” I mutter, taking a sip of kombucha. “I’m kinda nervous.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” She picks up a bottle of water and sips it. “I’m not here to audition you or question your choice to come here and have your fantasies fulfilled. That’s your journey.”

“Okay.”

“The Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club prides itself on being welcoming and inclusive to all of our guests, regardless of how much previous sexual experience they have.”

“So why am I here?” I wince when I realize I sound like a teenager in trouble. “I mean here like, in this office, not here on the island. I feel like I’ve been summoned to the principal’s office for wanting to have my pussy licked.”

Kora blinks twice in rapid succession. If she’s shocked by my language, that’s her only outward sign.

“Sorry,” I mumble, and she smiles .

“On the contrary,” she says. “The fact that you just spoke so frankly is a positive sign that you’re here with a goal and not with an ax to grind.”

“What do you mean?”

Her expression turns thoughtful as she looks out the window.

Her desk has a view of one of the swimming pools, where two shirtless men stand slathering sunscreen on the breasts of a beautiful, ebony goddess.

I watch their hands roll down her body and a hot, achy buzz spreads from my chest to the center of my thighs.

“Our guest satisfaction record is almost flawless at Crystal Bliss Retreat.” Kora’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far away. “ Almost .”

I study her face. “Let me guess. Virgins are the only ones with complaints?”

“Precisely. The first few seasons we were open, we didn’t take these same…

precautions with our less-experienced guests.

” She pauses like she’s choosing her words with care.

“What we discovered the hard way is that some women”—she pauses again, clearly hoping not to offend me—“Women who aren’t as confident in their own desires, who haven’t explored what turns them on or what doesn’t—those women are less likely to have a positive experience here. ”

My brain takes a moment to untangle that. “Is that why the questionnaire asked if I masturbate and whether I’ve had an orgasm with a partner?”

For the record, the answer was yes on both counts.

“Yes.” Kora looks pleased that I get it. “Bringing you in here for this private chat is less about quizzing you on your desires and more about giving you the chance to ask any questions you might have.”

“That makes sense.” It also explains why Eve and Camille never mentioned having a meeting like this. My two closest friends were probably born knowing exactly what they wanted a man—or a woman—to do to them.

Me?

All I’ve ever wanted was Trent.

Tears prick the backs of my eyelids. I plead with my eyeballs not to start leaking again.

“Fuck,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut.

“I’m afraid if I cry you’ll tell me I shouldn’t be here, but that’s not true.

The truth is that I’ve spent my whole life thinking a certain way about sex.

It was supposed to be this special thing meant just for my husband.

But then he walked out, and I started to think about what my friends shared about coming here.

” I open my eyes to see Kora nudging a bright box of tissues my way.

I swipe at my eyes and continue. “Eve Goodrich and Camille Plier.” I wait for a flash of recognition, but Kora doesn’t move.

“Right, I guess you can’t comment on other guests.

But my point is that they told me all about their experiences here.

And at first, I won’t lie—I felt kinda judgey.

But now that I’m single, I’m starting to think that sex isn’t just for my husband.

” I nibble my lip, hoping I say the right thing. “It’s for me .”

Kora’s eyes flicker like I’ve just said the right thing. “Yes,” she breathes softly. “That’s it exactly.”

“Oh.” I hesitate. “Did I—did I pass the test?”

She laughs and I feel my shoulders relax. “There’s no test. But if there were, you just aced it.” Tapping her laptop, she pulls up a doc with my name at the top of the screen. “I see you expressed interest in having your first enchantment with Logan Wilder.”

“Yes.” I toy with the fringe on my purse. “Eve and Camille both liked him a lot. Eve slept with him, but Camille didn’t.” I’m not sure whether that makes it weird or not. “But they both said he seemed like a nice guy. Someone who’d be gentle and understanding for my first time.”

“Mr. Wilder has been with us for a number of years and is one of our most requested consorts.” Kora tilts her head. “I’m sure you’ve read our literature and been briefed by your friends, but just to reiterate our most vital rule, consent can be revoked at any point.”

I’m nodding along, pretty sure I follow. “You mean if Logan decides he’s not into me?”

“Of course.” One edge of her mouth quirks. “Or, more commonly, that you might prefer a session or two of just talking . Getting to know one another before anything sexual transpires.”

“Oh.” I give Kora a nod of relief. “With all due respect, I’ve spent twenty-three years just talking.” Uncrossing my legs, I draw a deep breath. “I’m ready for action.”

I’ve unpacked my bags, enjoyed a full tour of the grounds, and devoured a gourmet lunch of coconut prawns over jicama slaw and fresh pineapple.

With my teeth freshly brushed and my whole body scrubbed to lilac-scented perfection, I’ve got ten minutes until my date arrives.

Not my date .

My consort.

Do I call him my consort if he’s had sex with thousands of women?

That’s probably purity culture talking. Some deep-seated notion that sex is equated to ownership.

God, I’m nervous.

I fire off a group text to Eve and Camille.

Almost time for my first enchantment. Wish me luck!

Eve is the first one to answer.

Which enchantment did you pick? GOOD LUCK!!!

She follows it up with a string of emojis like lips and a tongue and the one my mother believes stands for praying hands. I learned from Camille the graphic was meant to be a high-five.

Speaking of Camille?—

You requested Logan, right?

I smile to myself, typing a response I know will make her snort-laugh.

Of course I did. I’m a good girl. I do what I’m told.

She texts back a long string of laughing emojis, followed by a more heartfelt message.

Don’t be afraid to tell him what you want. He’ll take good care of you no matter which enchantment you choose.

Their encouragement puts me at ease and I search for a throne emoji. The closest I find is a toilet, so that’s no good. I locate a crown and send that along with the same tongue emoji Eve used.

She’s the first to respond when I send it.

Ohhh, the Queen of Her Tongue Throne? Way to go right for the face sitting!

I smile as Camille adds her own string of emojis, including the melty face Trent used to text me after an especially hot makeout session.

God, I miss Trent.

“Stop it.” I say it out loud, just as a knock drums my door .

With trembling knees, I walk past the bed and smooth down my skirt before twisting the knob to throw open the door.

“Oh.” I look up at the man with his muscular build and thick, sandy hair. His grin and his bright, hazel eyes filled with mischief make him look like a Boy Scout gone bad. “Oh, wow.”

He chuckles and anchors his hands in his pockets. “Sara?”

“Yes. Um, you must be Logan?”

“That’s me.” His smile sends a swift rush of heat through my core. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“A walk?” Maybe that’s some kind of sexual euphemism. “Um?—”

“Some guests feel weird just inviting a strange man into their room.” His aw-shucks smile widens. “Just giving you the option, in case you’d like to stroll a little.”

“Oh. No, that’s okay. Thank you, though.” I hold open the door and Logan walks through, all long, loping stride and super-broad shoulders that fill up the space. There’s a scar snaking down his right leg and I wish I knew him well enough to ask about it.