Resist Read Online Free

I’m not perfect either.” I looked down at my clasped hands and away from his face. “My interest in psychology and psychiatry came about because I discovered at the age of sixteen I suffered from a severe form of genophobia.”
    I could feel my face burn as I turned toward Blaine.
    I expected him to burst out laughing or perhaps wear one of his famous smirks but he merely glanced at me for a long time before he replied, “It’s obvious. Not many people can get to your ripe age and not have experimented with sex. Is that why you’re interested in what I do?”
    “Well, yes and no.” I swallowed before I continued, “Sex is a form of violence. Even the act itself—no matter how gentle or lovely it’s portrayed, a man or woman is inserting objects into a place with enough force for there to be pain afterwards. I thought perhaps I could learn more about myself because it’s the pain itself that turns me on—not the act of sex. I wanted to find out why infliction of pain would be something that I would find pleasurable yet the act of sex—where pain can be found and is often enjoyed—repulsed me.”
    Blaine leaned closer to me as his fingers wrapped around a loose wave of hair caressing my face. “If you’re repulsed by sex then do you really suffer from genophobia? Isn’t that a fear of sex?”
    “I suppose so but my condition has improved over the years. I can even masturbate now where three years ago, I couldn’t even touch myself for physical pleasure. It’s a process that gets better as I get older but it can make relationships very hard. My ex was coitophobic so we kind of fit together like peas and carrots. He didn’t want to have sex with me and I had zero desire to have sex with him. To be honest, it worked very well but Professor Baasch reminded me our situation was unhealthy and unsustainable. If I continued to seek out people who were similar to me then I would never make sufficient process in getting over my revulsion of sex in the first place.”
    Our conversation was cut off prematurely as the head flight attendant began to explain the instructions listed in the brochure.
    If Blaine had flown as much as I had—and I was under the assumption he’d flown many, many more times than me—it was just a rehash of what we already knew. However, we still had to be quiet and listen to the mundane instructions of what to do if the plane crashed or had to make an emergency landing.
    Finally, she finished and the plane was cleared for takeoff. This was my least favorite part of flying. I could handle the landing but the actual ascent into the air drove my nerves to pieces and it took almost everything in me not to have a panic attack.
    As my hands gripped the leather console and I slowly counted in my head, Blaine placed his hand nearest to mine over the one closest to him.
    “You’ll be fine, sweetie. Just remember, nothing could be as bad as the Spanish Inquisition.”
    I laughed out loud, his play on a Monty Python routine and was surprised he knew it at all.
    Mutual silence followed until we’d taken off and began to cruise at a comfortable altitude of somewhere between twenty-five and thirty thousand feet in the air.
    “So, what do you think of this all? Is it still what you want?”
    I turned toward him and looked into his crystal blue eyes. “I couldn’t want anything more. It’s a joy—a dream—to watch you do what you do best.”
    Blaine chuckled though there was little mirth in his laughter. “Listen, you’re a gorgeous, intelligent young woman. I have absolutely no doubt you will be bored one week into our little excursion. Therefore, to please your parents and make them understand your Stanford education wasn’t completely wasted, I have a project for you but only if you want it.”
    His words intrigued me deeply but I wasn’t foolish enough to think anything in this world came without a price. He would want something from me but the answer to that question was what