artist eye took in all the details. She should have been impressed, but she wasn’t processing anything about her surroundings.
Her internal focus consumed her. She turned on the rain shower, pulling the hem of her nightshirt over her head before she pulled her panties down her legs. Her nakedness was suddenly new to her, like she was seeing herself for the first time. Leigha’s comment came back to her; maybe she did look like everyone else. She flirted with the idea that maybe the unfulfilled sex wasn’t all her fault. She might actually be able to have sex without excruciating pain.
Wanting to get in touch with her body, she closed her eyes, aware of the fullness of her breasts under her hands as they traveled down to the ‘unwanted area.’ Self-satisfaction was never one of her favorite activities. Anything sexual reminded her of Brock’s scalding words, making her embarrassed and ashamed. She tried to avoid touching herself as much as possible, almost never examining her naked body in the mirror. Why look at something that caused so much pain? Her face was her focus, crafting a mask to hide behind. She stared at her face in the mirror, only to see pink swollen eyes and sunken cheeks. An indication she needed to start eating more.
As she stepped away from the mirror, her body came into view along with a new sense of awareness. She wanted to see and sense her body, rediscovering herself to find out what she missed. There might be a chance she was normal. She needed to hold on to that thought. If she dared to be brave enough, she could break those barriers that held her captive for so long. Raquelle might be able to help her in that department. The idea of a spa day entered her mind, then shopping. She wanted the works—massage, facial, and yes, waxing. Raquelle always talked about a Brazilian wax. Needless to say, she didn’t even know what the hell it was. As painful as it sounded, Mara wanted the full treatment. She felt empowered, as if a new chapter in her life had been written and opened her up to other possibilities.
She entered the shower, trying to wash away her past, her hands running over her body as the steam from the shower enveloped and warmed her skin. As she took the fresh-scented shower gel in her hands, she couldn’t help but think of Mac. Had she misjudged him? He embedded himself in her head and heart. Those eyes of his spoke volumes as they searched her soul. She imagined where he would put his hands on her. Would he think she was so naïve and inexperienced that he would be turned-off? The thought gave her a pang in her chest.
She didn’t know the answers to the questions that floated in her head but she needed to start with her. With a new resolve, she wanted to discover what her body liked because she’d already been introduced to what it didn’t like. She wouldn’t let Brock, the asshole, leave her broken. In Raquelle’s words, “Oh, hell-to-the-no.” She would rise out of the ashes of her fake marriage built on lies and deception. Mara smiled at the thought of Raquelle’s take-no-prisoners attitude and wanted to infuse some of it into herself. Raquelle likely possessed an intimate map of her own body inside and out. Mara had an irrepressible need to find out what she had missed out on.
She started with her fingers on her nipples, carefully playing with them ever so gently, a stark contrast to the brutality of Brock’s touch. Her touch was kind and gentle. A ribbon of warmth started to make its way all over her body. Mac. She couldn’t get him out of her head, and wanted his hands on her body, remembering the heat of his body near hers. She imagined how his hands would skim down over her stomach, finding the place between her legs that had been a source of anxiety up until then. Determination made her want to bust out of the place keeping her from happiness, pleasure, and intimacy.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply in through her nose and out of her mouth to gain some