"Want some?" Carl asked, holding up a bottle of Purell, slathering it on his own hands as he settled into the driver's seat of his red corvette.
"Not a chance," Emma laughed, rubbing her grimy hands together, almost proudly.
Emma had started therapy nearly a month ago, and she was making astounding progress. Carl's constant encouragement to step out of routine and comfort of her life had prompted her to take the step that she had avoided for so long. She wanted to be everything to Carl; she wanted to give him every part of herself, not just the broken pieces she had been trying to hold together for so long. She hadn't been able to do it merely for herself, but she found herself determined to do it for Carl—for them.
The beginning stages had been tough, and finding a medication and dosage she responded to with minimal side effects had been no picnic. But Emma was intent on becoming healthy, and her therapist, though kind, was strict and professional, never letting Emma's irrational pleas sway her as she used exposure therapy to force Emma to face her greatest fears without using the comfort of her compulsions. There had been tears, breakdowns, panic attacks, and times Emma was tempted to give up and fall back into her old stifling habits.
But Carl had continued to stand by her side. He moved in with her, acting as a constant as she let go of so many things she found familiar. He was someone for her to hold herself accountable to—a reminder of why she was doing this and the satisfaction of the end result.
And it was slowly, but surely, beginning to work. Emma had been frightened that giving up a huge part of what she had become would alter her personality, but she found that the binds of her rituals and compulsions were only holding her back from her full potential. Though she was still neat and organized, she no longer felt the need to clean and sanitize quite as often. Instead of obsessing over potential germs and messes, Emma found herself enjoying situations for what they truly were, allowing her to finally dare to try new experiences.
"You sure?" Carl asked again, holding up the sanitizer for Emma, raising an eyebrow, though she knew he was not taunting her.
Carl had always been a neat man, conscientious about germs himself, leading him to be more lenient during Emma's therapy process, always reminding her that no matter how comfortable her therapist wanted her to become with messes, there was always a level of cleanliness that was reasonable to maintain.
"We just went bowling, Ems," he stated. "Even people who aren't wary of germs typically wash their hands after that."
He smiled at her—that natural, charming smile she adored, and she knew he only wanted what was best for her.
She returned the smile, feeling wry. "Oh, does this bother you then?" she giggled, reaching out to cup his face with her unwashed hand.
He stiffened for a moment, though Emma was certain it was from her impulsive tough rather than the germs.
"Or how about this?" she trailed her hand down his neck, slowly letting her fingers dance against his body until they reached his belly. He let out a steady stream of breath, stilling grinning as he turned toward her.
"Or this?" she whispered, almost seductively, pulling herself from the passenger's seat, arranging herself so she was straddling his lap, winding her arms around his neck as she dipped her face in to kiss him.
"Can't say I mind," he muttered against her lips, his minty breath washing over her face as he gently stroked her left hip.
She pressed her hands lightly against his chest, deepening the kiss, arching her back—beep!
The disruptive honk of the car's horn startled them, triggered as Emma's back brushed against the steering wheel. She pulled away, looking sheepishly at Carl.
He laughed, running his fingers through her curls. "Perhaps it would be better if we continued this at home instead, gorgeous," he chuckled.
Emma's heart skipped a beat, as it did every time he called her gorgeous. She nodded, pecking his nose lightly before returning to her seat as Carl turned the key in the ignition, the engine beginning to hum pleasantly.
"Looks like rain," Carl muttered, and Emma followed his gaze, peering up at the overcast sky.
A pleasant silence soon settled between them. Emma rubbed her fingers together once again, the filth becoming more and more evident as her eyes strayed to the bottle of hand sanitizer resting in the cup holding of the seat divider.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, counting to ten as she forced herself to think about something else, determined not to cave.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Carl asked, turning to look at her, a worried expression creasing his brow.
She nodded, allowing her lips to curve into a smile. He took one hand off the wheel, reaching for hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When he released her hand, her grin grew as she allowed her hand to fall to his thigh, the germs on her skin all but forgotten as she trailed her fingers up and down the material of his jeans.
He moaned, trying to keep his eyes focused on the road. "God, Ems, you're gonna be the death of me."
She laughed, continuing to stroke his leg, her hand dipping dangerously close to the zipper of his pants. As they turned into the lot outside the condo, the clouds erupted, heavy sheets of rain pounding against the wind shield.
"Just our luck," Carl chuckled, struggling to pull into their typical parking spot as he squinted through the blurry windshield. "And I don't have an umbrella in here—we're gonna have to make a run for it."
He stepped out of the car, dashing over to Emma's side, completely drenched by the time he opened the door for her. She shrieked as she stepped out into the downpour, lacing her fingers with Carl's as they dashed for the front door.
She let out a sigh, catching her breath as they took refuge under the awning, their bodies pressed close together in the small space. She caught Carl's gaze, his brown eyes shining as he looked at her.
"I love you," she whispered, her breath ricocheting off his face.
"I love you too, gorgeous," he breathed in return, placing a gentle kiss against her wet nose. Her heart pounded in her chest. "So, so much."
He opened the door, and the entered the dry warmth of the interior. "How about we both change—then we can relax and watch a movie?" Carl suggested, running his fingers through his damp hair.
Emma nodded, and they headed down the hall to their bedroom. Though they shared a room, it was in the most innocent sense. With Emma's newfound confidence and willingness to step out of comfort zone, on top of her ever growing adoration for Carl, they had come close to crossing the line several times now, but Carl was always intent on keeping things moderately chaste, never wanting Emma to regret a hasty decision.
Emma stepped into her closet, planning to change into a simple nightgown, when a mischievous thought crossed her mind. She dug through the drawer containing her undergarments, feeling devious and slightly hot as she pulled out a lacy evergreen bra and a matching thong—a purchase she had made at Victoria's Secret during her latest shopping spree, though she had not had the chance, nor been daring enough, to wear it yet.
Slipping out of her wet clothing, she pulled on the scandalous attire, catching her appearance in the mirror. She looked shy and awkward as she glanced at herself, instinctively trying to cover her body with her arms. Blushing, she pulled her arms away, striking a suggestive pose in the mirror. At first, she wanted to laugh at herself, but as she took a closer look at herself in the mirror, she realized that with enough confidence, she could easily look sexy.
She smiled.
Stepping into the adjoining bathroom, she reached for her makeup, applying a heavy coat of black mascara to her long lashes. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, feeling more devious by the minute as she reached for her brush, teasing her red hair gently.
"Ems? You almost ready?" Carl's voice brought her back to reality. She could already hear the drone of the television as he searched for a movie on demand.
She blushed again, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, calming herself with a deep breath as she opened the bathroom door, leaning seductively on the door frame.
"I'm ready," she practically purred, keeping her appearance surprisingly blasé as Carl turned to look at her, doing a double take.
"God, Ems," he breathed, licking his lips tentatively. "What's all this?"
She ignored his question, strutting slowly across the room, reaching for the remote on the bed as she silenced the television. She arranged herself in Carl's lap, straddling him, feeling him harden beneath her.
"Ems," he whispered, his voice unsteady.
"Shh," she whispered, tugging his shirt from his torso. "No talking."
She pushed him gently back against the bed, kissing him deeply, forcing her tongue between his lips. He groaned loudly, bringing his hands to her bare hips.
She continued to kiss him, letting her lips leave a trail across his skin. She pressed her body against his, nipping gently at his ear lobe. "I'm not exactly sure what to do next," she admitted, her voice coming out in a breathy whisper as her lips skimmed his ear, a blush rising to her face
"You're doing great, Ems," Carl assured her, his voice weak, shifting their bodies into a sitting position. He gently stroked the edge of her bra, and Emma let herself relax, allowing Carl to resume control. "This color's great on you."
She grinned, delighting in his approval. Slowly, he reached for the hinge of her bra, gently tugging it away. For a moment, as rush of embarrassment washed over her as Carl gazed at her vulnerable body. He leant in, softly kissing the crown of her right breast. "You're gorgeous, Emma. Absolutely stunning."
She sighed against him, wrapping her own arms around his body.
"Are you sure this is what you want, Ems?" Carl clarified, pulling away for a moment.
"I'm sure," she whispered. "I've never been so sure."
Gently, his hands strayed to her panties, tracing the lace, prying one finger beneath the surface, gently entering her. She stiffened for a moment, her body growing tense, but she soon fell into rhythm with his touch, growing wet as his movement became more urgent.
"I love you, Ems," he reminded her, his voice ragged as he placed a kiss against her temple. "Promise me you'll let me know if you want me to stop."
"I promise," she assured him, catching his eyes in the darkness. "But I want this, Carl," she breathed, kissing him with her swollen lips. "I want you."
XXXX
She closed her eyes as he stroked her bare skin in the darkness. She was exhausted and her entire body ached, but it was a pleasant soreness. She felt drained, but it had been well worth it. She smiled, tucking her head securely under Carl's neck as his fingers continued to dance across her skin.
"Want to take a shower, gorgeous?" he whispered, his lips against her ear, his hot breath fanning around her face.
She was surprised about how little the sticky sweat bothered her. Skin against skin, lying in Carl's arm, she couldn't find it in herself to care. She smiled. "I'm pretty happy right here," she muttered, snuggling deeper into his arms.
He chucked, his hands straying from her back to her tangled hair. He kissed her forehead lightly. "You know, Ems, just because you don't need to take a shower doesn't mean you can't choose to take one.
His words caught her by surprise for a moment. She sat up, pulling away from his body. She smiled again, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Then a shower it is…though I think you're just trying to think of an excuse to wake me up and have sex with me again."
Carl laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. "Caught in the act…but really, Ems, it's up to you…I just want you to chose what you want—what you really want. Not what other people are telling you what you should want or what your compulsions are telling you what you should want…just what you want, Ems."
He wrapped his arm around as she leant against his shoulder. She loved him so much—and she loved how much he loved her. "Shower," she whispered, trailing her hands down his biceps. "It's what I really want."
Carl grinned, helping her to her feet. She staggered slightly, her body a little sore and shaky. "You okay, Ems?"
She nodded, lacing her fingers with his as she led him to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, turning to Carl as the water heated up, reaching to cup his face as she kissed him gently.
"I love you," he whispered, and she knew she would never tire of hearing those words.
He led her into the shower, the steamy water enveloping them. As Carl reached for her body wash, beginning to lather her body with the lavender scented soap, she pondered his words.
Getting help for her OCD and anxiety wasn't just merely for her to get better—it was giving her the opportunity to choose—to choose what she truly wanted. Life was not something that could be viewed as black and white—neat or messy, organized or disorganized, confident or unsure. She didn't have to be just one—she could chose to be how she wanted to me, not because her therapist or Carl or anyone else wanted her to be that way, nor would she feel compelled to be a certain way because of her obsessive tendencies. It was her choice—her life, and she had the opportunity to do exactly what she wanted with it.
Carl massaged her body, the soft scent of lavender rising between them. His hand reached her thigh, his soapy fingers reaching between her legs, entering her gently. She groaned in pleasure, leaning her body against his.
"I think I'm gonna become addicted to showering again," she smiled, pressing her lips against Carl's chest.
He laughed, pulling her closer to him. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, relishing in her freedom to choose.