It’s been three days since our moment in the bathroom. I’ve noticed she keeps the doors locked now, which is fine. I’m sure she’s pissed off that she allowed herself to have a moment of weakness. She doesn’t seem like the type to give in as easily as she almost did.
Either way, I can’t decide if I made the right move. Half of me rejoices in the fact that I was able to walk away, but the other half of me can’t believe how stupid I was for passing up an opportunity like that. I could have had her, and now I more than likely won’t ever. But it’s for the best, because the last thing I need is to hook up with a roommate who could potentially be the sister of my best friend. But she makes it hard, pun intended, when she walks into the living room looking like she does right now. She’s not in her work clothes, but what she does have on doesn’t make it any better. She’s wearing a thin tank top over a barely there pair of pajama shorts, and she’s walked between me and the TV more times than I can count.
Shit.
Now she’s heading toward me with books in her hands.
Shit.
She’s sitting on the couch. Next to me. In that thin tank top.
Without a bra.
I can handle this. I force my eyes on the TV, still in search of whatever porn she was in. I could just ask her, but that’s not a good idea. If she knows I know she was in a porn film, she’d probably do everything she could to make sure I never find out.
She leans forward and picks up the remote, and then points it at the TV to mute it. I don’t know who she thinks she is, but if she doesn’t want to hear the TV, she can go to her room. I grab the
remote and turn the sound back on. She sighs and opens one of her textbooks and begins reading.
I pretend I’m paying attention to the TV, but I can’t stop stealing glances at her, because holy shit, I can’t believe I walked away from her. I’m an idiot.
She grabs the remote and mutes the TV again, possibly because one of the girls was screaming at the top of her lungs. I wonder if Bridgette is loud during s*x? Probably not. She’s more than likely stubborn, refusing to give up any of her sounds.
I unmute the TV again and she reaches her breaking point. “I’m trying to study, Warren. For fuck’s sake, you still get the same effect when it’s on mute.”
I eye her curiously. “How would you know? Are you a porn expert?”
She glances at me, a flash of suspicion in her eyes. “Can you please, for one night, forgo your addiction so I can study in peace and quiet?”
Bridgette said please.
“Go study in your bedroom,” I say.
Her mouth presses into a tight, thin line. She pushes her book off her lap and stands. She walks toward the TV and reaches behind it, pulling the plug. After returning to the couch, she pulls her book back onto her lap and resumes studying.
I don’t know how I ever got beyond her horrible attitude enough to even be attracted to her. She’s vile. I don’t care how good she looks, she’ll never find anyone who can put up with her personality.
“You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”
She releases an exasperated breath. “Yeah, well. You’re addicted to porn.”
I laugh under my breath. “At least I wasn’t in a porn.”
Her eyes swing in my direction. “I knew you were eavesdropping.”
I shrug. “I couldn’t help it. You were having a conversation like you were an actual human being. It was fascinating.”
Her focus falls back onto the pages of the textbook. “You’re an asshole.”
“You’re an opportunist.”
She slams her book shut and turns to face me on the couch. “An opportunist? Are you kidding me?”
I pull my knee up and turn and face her. “You don’t think it seems a little fishy that you show up out of the blue and claim to be the long- lost sister to the most popular local band in Austin?”
She looks capable of murder. “Warren, I suggest you stop making accusations against people you know absolutely nothing about.”
I grin, because I know that got to her. I might come out victorious again.
“I’ve learned enough about you to know you don’t deserve to be trusted.” I pick up her book and put it back in her lap and point to her bedroom. “Now take your homework and go back to your borrowed room.”
“MY borrowed room? You don’t even pay rent, Warren.” “Neither do you, Bridgette.”
“All you do is watch porn and stare at my ass. You’re a lazy
pervert.”
“All you do is flaunt your ass and fantasize about me kissing you.” “You’re disgusting,” she says. “As a matter of fact, watch the porn.
I’m sure you need all the pointers you can get.”
Okay, that’s low. She can insult my laziness, my finances, my new porn addiction, but she cannot insult my bedroom skills. Especially when she doesn’t have firsthand experience. “I don’t need pointers to please a woman, Bridgette. I was born with natural talent.”
She’s eyeing me like she’s about to punch me, but I can’t stop staring at her mouth, hoping she insults me again. Somewhere between being called an asshole and this moment, I’ve become more
turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m hoping she’s about to storm off to her bedroom because I’ve already met my quota for restraint when it comes to her.
She licks her bottom lip, and I have to grip the couch cushion to keep myself from attacking that mouth. Her eyes are focused intensely on mine, and we’re both breathing so heavily from our verbal attacks, I can taste her breath on my lips.
“I hate you,” she says through clenched teeth. “I hated you first,” I hiss back.
Her focus falls on my mouth and as soon as I see the tiniest flash of desire in her eyes, I lunge forward. I grab her face and press my lips to hers as I shove her back against the couch. She’s pushing me away with her knees while pulling me to her with her hands. My tongue forces through the barrier of her lips and she devours me in response. I kiss her hard, and she kisses me even harder. I’m pulling at a fistful of her hair while she scratches down my neck with her fingernails. Fuck, it hurts. She hurts.
I want more.
I’m hovering over her and then pressing myself against her, pulling her knee up so she can wrap it around my waist. Her hands are in my hair, and I don’t want her to move out. I want her to stay. I want her to be my roommate forever. She’s the best fucking roommate I’ve ever had and my God, she’s so nice. How did I ever think she was mean? She’s so, so sweet, and her lips are sweet and Bridgette, I love your name.
“Bridgette,” I whisper, wanting to say her name out loud. I don’t know how I hated her name before this moment, because it’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever said out loud.
I pull away from her mouth and begin working my way down her sweet, sweet neck. As soon as I make it to her shoulder, she begins to push me away with her hands.
Just like that, I snap back to reality and separate from her willingly.
I move to the other end of the couch, needing the space to wrap my head around what the hell just happened?
She quickly sits up on the couch. She wipes her mouth and I run my hands through my hair, doing whatever I can to process this.
She’s an evil vixen. I close my eyes and squeeze my forehead, trying to figure out how I just lost complete control of myself simply because I was kissing her. I think of all the lies that were just passing through my head as my dick tried to convince me she was actually a decent person.
I’m weak. I’m so weak, and she just gained the upper hand again. “Don’t do that again,” she says, angry and breathless.
Her voice makes me wince. “You started it,” I say defensively.
Did she? I can’t remember. It might have been mutual.
“You kiss like you’re trying to resuscitate a dead cat,” she says, disgusted.
“You kiss like you are a dead cat.”
She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. She looks extremely uncomfortable in the silence, so it doesn’t surprise me when she spits out another insult. “You probably fuck like a limp noodle.”
“I fuck like I’m Thor.”
I’m not looking at her, but I know that comment had to make her smile. If she’s even capable of smiling. The silence grows heavier and neither of us moves, making it even more apparent that what just happened was a mistake.
“Why do you taste like onions?” she asks. I shrug. “I just ate pizza.”
She glances into the kitchen. “Is there any left?” I nod. “It’s in the fridge.”
She immediately stands up to walk to the kitchen, and I hate that I’m staring at her shirt. I can see her nipples poking through the thin fabric, and I want to point at her and say, “I did that! That’s all me!”
Instead, I close my eyes and try to think about whatever will stop my wanting to follow her into that kitchen and bend her over the counter. Luckily, Ridge’s bedroom door opens, so I give my full attention to him as he walks into the living room. He pauses when he sees me sitting on the couch. He glances at the TV that isn’t even on. “Why do you look so guilty?”
I shake my head shamefully. “I think I just made out with Bridgette,” I sign.
Ridge looks at Bridgette, who is standing in the kitchen with her back to us. He shakes his head in disappointment. Or confusion.
“Why?” he asks, perplexed. “Did she do it willingly?”
I grab one of the couch pillows and throw it at him. “Yes, she did it willingly, asshole. She wants me.”
“Do you want her?” He seems genuinely shocked, like he didn’t see this coming at all.
I shake my head. “No I don’t want her,” I sign. “But I feel like I need her. So bad. She’s so . . .” I pause my hands for a few seconds before continuing. “She’s the best worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Ridge backs up until his hand is on the front door. “I’m going to Maggie’s for the night,” he signs. “We’ll pray for you.”
I flip him off as he makes his way out. When I turn back to face Bridgette, she’s walking toward her bedroom. She passes the TV and doesn’t even have the audacity to plug it back in.
I plug in the TV, because there isn’t a doubt in my mind now. I have to find that porno, because after experiencing that kiss, I’m addicted. Addicted to all things Bridgette.
• • •
I barely slept last night. Being in the same apartment with her, knowing Ridge and Brennan were both gone, was too much. It took all I had not to make an excuse to knock on her bedroom door. But
I’m learning how her mind works, and I know she’d turn me down in a heartbeat just to stay in control.
And now, Ridge and Brennan are both still gone and she’s at work
and I’ve exhausted all the porn on pay-per-view. I can’t keep track of how much porn I’ve watched in the past two weeks. It’s ridiculous. How many could there possibly be? And I’ve narrowed it down to the ones that have been recorded in the last few years, because she had to be over eighteen when she filmed it. She’s twenty-two now, so that’s four years of porn films to sift through.
Oh, my God. I’m obsessed. I’m like a stalker.
I am a stalker.
The front door swings open and Bridgette walks in. She slams it shut so hard, I flinch. She walks to the kitchen and begins opening cabinets and banging them shut. She finally rests her palms on the bar and looks straight at me. “Where the hell do you keep the alcohol?”
Bad day, I guess.
I stand up and walk over to the sink. I open the cabinet beneath it and take out the bottle of Pine-Sol. I don’t even bother grabbing her a glass. She looks like the type who can take a good swig.
“Are you trying to kill me?” she asks, staring at the bottle in my hands.
I push it into her hand. “Ridge thinks he’s clever by hiding it in old cleaner bottles. He doesn’t like it when I drink all his alcohol.”
She brings the bottle to her nose and winces. “Is whiskey the only thing you have?”
I nod. She shrugs and brings the bottle to her lips, tilts her head back, and takes a long swig.
She hands the bottle back to me as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I take a sip from the bottle myself and then hand it back to her. We do this several times until her anger seems to have
subsided, as much as anger can subside in Bridgette’s world. I put the top back on the bottle and return it to the cabinet.
“Bad day?” I ask.
She leans against the counter and pulls at the elastic of her orange shorts. “The worst.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She looks up at me through her lashes and then rolls her eyes. “No,” she says flatly.
I don’t push it. I don’t even know that I really want to know about her day. Anything and everything seems to set her off, so she’s probably pissed over something stupid, like a red light on her way home. It has to be exhausting to respond to all aspects of life with so much anger.
“Why are you always so mad?”
She laughs under her breath. “That’s easy,” she says. “Assholes, stupid customers, a shitty job, worthless parents, crappy friends, bad weather, annoying roommates who don’t know how to kiss.”
I laugh at the last comment, which I’m sure was supposed to be a dig, but it felt more like an underhanded flirt.
“How are you so happy all the time?” she asks. “You think everything is funny.”
“That’s easy,” I say. “Great parents, being lucky enough to have a job, loyal friends, sunny days, and roommates who starred in porn films.”
She glances away quickly in an attempt to hide a smile that almost appeared on her face. God, I wish she would let that smile out, because I’m dying to see what it looks like. As long as she’s lived here, I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen her smile.
“Is that why you watch so much porn? Because you’re hoping to find out which one I was in?”
I don’t nod, but I don’t shake my head, either. I lean my hip into the counter and fold my arms over my chest. “Just tell me the name
of it.”
“No,” she says quickly. “Besides, I was just an extra. I didn’t even really do anything.”
An extra. That helps narrow down my search a little. “Didn’t really do anything doesn’t mean didn’t.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but she’s still standing here, so I keep going. “Were you naked?”
“It was a porn, Warren. I wasn’t wearing a sweater.”
That means yes.
“Did you have s*x on camera?” She shakes her head. “No.” “But you made out with a guy?”
She shakes her head again. “Wasn’t a guy.”
Holy fuck.
I turn around and grip the bar with one hand while making the form of a cross over my body with the other. When I turn back around, she’s still standing in the same spot, but she actually looks relaxed. She should drink whiskey every day.
“So you’re telling me you made out with another girl? And it’s documented somewhere? On film?”
The corner of her mouth curls up into a ghostly smile. “You smiled.”
She stops smiling immediately. “I did not.”
I take a step toward her and nod my head. “Yes, you did. I made you smile.”
She begins to shake her head in disagreement, so I slip my hand behind her neck. Her eyes widen, and I’m almost positive she’s about to push me away, but I can’t help it. That smile.
“You did smile, Bridgette,” I whisper. “And you need to own it, because it was fucking beautiful.”
She gasps in shock right before my lips crash against hers. I don’t
think she was expecting this kiss to happen, but she certainly isn’t
objecting. Her mouth is warm and responsive and when I part her lips with my tongue, she actually lets me.
I don’t know if it’s the whiskey or her, but my heart is thrashing around in my chest like a caged beast. I slide my hands down her back until they meet her ass and I squeeze as I pick her up and set her back down on the bar.
Our lips separate, and we stare at each other silently, each of us hesitant to believe that the other isn’t about to walk away again. When I realize that neither of us seems to want to stop this, I bring my hands up to her cheeks and lean in again, taking her lips between mine.
This is different from our kiss the other night. Our first kiss was quick and frantic, because we knew that’s where it would end.
This one is slow and deep, and feels like it’s just the beginning of what we’re about to experience tonight. This time when I leave her mouth to taste her neck, she doesn’t push me away. She pulls me closer, wanting me to kiss her harder.
“Warren,” she whispers, tilting her neck to the side, allowing me free rein of her skin. “If I have s*x with you, you have to promise you won’t get clingy afterward.”
I laugh, but I don’t move away from her neck. “If you have s*x with me, Bridgette, you’re the one in danger of becoming clingy. You’ll want so much more of me, I won’t be able to tell the difference between you and Saran Wrap.”
She laughs, and I pull away from her. I look down at her mouth and then into her eyes. “My God.”
She shakes her head, confused. “What?”
“Your laugh.” I kiss her on the lips. “Fucking phenomenal,” I whisper into her mouth. I lift her off the counter and keep her wrapped around me as I make my way across the living room. As soon as we’re in my bedroom, I close the door and push her against it. I keep her pressed against the door with my body while I remove
my shirt. I find the hem of her shirt and begin to pull it over her head. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about this, Bridgette.”
She helps me pull her shirt over her head. “I haven’t fantasized about it at all,” she says.
I smile. “Bullshit.”
I lift her again and carry her to the bed. As soon as I lay her on it and begin to crawl on top of her, she pushes my shoulders and shoves me onto my back. Her hands meet the button on my jeans and she undoes them. I attempt to take control again by pushing her onto her back, but she’s not having it. She straddles me and places her hands on my biceps, pushing my arms against the bed. “I make the calls,” she says.
I don’t argue. If she wants to be in charge, I’ll absolutely let her.
She sits up straight and brings her hands around to her back to undo her bra. I lift up and begin to reach around to assist her, but her hands are back on my arms in a flash. She pushes me to the mattress again. “What did I just say, Warren?”
Holy shit. She’s not kidding.
I nod and focus my attention back to her bra as she lifts up and unfastens it. She slides the straps slowly down her arms and I can’t keep my eyes off her. I want to touch her, to help her, to be the one to remove her bra, but she’s not allowing me to do anything.
My breath catches in my chest when she flings the bra away.
My God, she’s perfect. Her breasts are the perfect size, appearing as if they would fit right in the palms of my hands. But I wouldn’t know, because I’m not allowed to touch them.
Am I?
I hesitantly lift my hands to feel the softness of her skin, but she immediately shoves my arms away from her, back to the bed.
God, it’s torture. Her breasts are right here, inches from me, and I can’t even touch them.
“Where are your condoms?”
I point to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. She slides off of me and I watch her closely as she walks to my nightstand. She opens the drawer and sifts around until she finds one. She puts it between her teeth as she walks back toward the foot of the bed. She doesn’t climb back on top of me. Instead, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and begins to shimmy out of them.
I’m harder than I’ve ever been, and I can feel my pulse throbbing throughout my whole body. She needs to hurry the hell up and climb back on top of me.
She leaves her panties on as she bends over and begins to pull my jeans the rest of the way off. She hooks her hands in my underwear and pulls them down as well, the condom wrapper still dangling between her teeth. Her hair is the perfect length, trailing lightly over my skin like feathers every time she leans over me.
Once all my clothes are off, her eyes focus on the hardest part of me. A smile tugs at her lips and her eyes meet mine. She pulls the condom out of her mouth.
“Impressive,” she says. “This definitely explains your inflated ego.” I take the insult with the compliment, because I already know
Bridgette isn’t the type to dish them out.
She straddles me again, still wearing her panties. She leans forward and presses her palms into my forearms. Her mouth meets mine, and her breasts press against my chest, causing me to groan. She feels incredible. So good. I’m worried now, because we haven’t even had s*x yet and I can already tell I’m ruined.
I can feel her wetness through her panties as she torturously slides up and down, up and down, as slow as she possibly can. Her tongue is in my mouth, and I keep trying to grab the back of her head, or grip her by the waist, but every time I move, she stops me.
I imagined she would be bossy in the bedroom, but nothing like this. She won’t even let me touch her, and it’s fucking killing me.
“Open your mouth,” she whispers into my ear. I do, and she places the condom wrapper between my teeth. I bite down on it and she uses her own teeth to grip the other end of it as she pulls away from me, tearing the wrapper open between both our mouths.
Okay, that was hot. So hot.
We should quit our jobs and do this full-time.
She pulls out the condom and sits straight up. She looks down and licks her lips as she slides the condom over me and I moan, because her hands are fuck. They’re too much. I want them everywhere.
I understand how guys can say stupid shit in the throes of passion, because I want to say so much to her right now. I want to tell her I love her and that we’re soul mates and that she should marry me, because her hands make me think stupid, stupid, untrue thoughts like this.
She lifts up higher on her knees and pulls her panties to the side, leaving them on as she begins to lower herself on top of me.
It’s official. She’s the best roommate I’ve ever had in my life.
She winces slightly when she begins to take me inside of her, and I feel kind of bad that it hurts her. But not bad enough to stop myself from lifting my hips and sliding into her the rest of the way.
As soon as we’re flush together, we moan in unison. I’ve never felt anything like it.
It’s as if her body contours perfectly to mine, fitting every line and curve and dip. Neither of us moves an inch while we fill the room with heavy gasps, giving ourselves a moment to adjust to the sheer perfection we just created.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Okay,” she replies.
She begins to move, and I don’t know what to do with myself. My hands want to hold her by the waist as she slides up and down, but I
also know I’m not allowed to touch her. My eyes take her in as she continues her movements, her perfect, methodical, sweet movements. After several minutes of watching her on top of me with her eyes closed and her lips parted, I give up. I can’t not touch her. My hands grip her waist and she tries to pull them away but I just grip harder, lifting her when she rises and pulling her down when she falls. She gives up trying to fight me after seeing how much better my strength
can make it feel.
I want to hear her moan and I want to hear her fall apart on top of me, but she’s holding it all back, just like I knew she would.
I slide my hands up her back and pull her forward until our mouths meet. I keep one hand on the back of her head and one on her waist as she continues her rhythm on top of me.
I curve my hand around her hip and slowly slide it over her stomach, until I’m touching her. I slide a finger between us, separating her, feeling her warmth and wetness surround me. She moans into my mouth and I begin to rub her, but she immediately stops moving. She grabs my wrist and pulls it away from her, slapping my arm against the mattress again.
Her eyes open and focus firmly on mine as she slowly begins to move again. “Keep your hands on the mattress, Warren,” she warns.
Dammit, she’s making this difficult. I need to feel her again, and when I’m done touching her, I want to taste her. I want that wetness and warmth all over my tongue.
But first, I’ll let her have her way. I close my eyes and stop trying to take control. I focus on her tightness, swallowing me up. I focus on the fact that each time her body meets mine, I’m as deep inside of her as I can possibly go.
She leans forward and her breasts dance back and forth across my chest as she moves on top of me.
Heaven is definitely for real.
My legs begin to tense and my hands are searching for something to grip as I feel myself building. She can sense I’m near release, so she tightens around me and her thrusts become faster and harder. I keep my eyes closed as my body begins to shake beneath her.
I want to cuss and groan, and let her know how good this feels as I release inside of her, but I don’t make a single noise. If I’m not allowed to touch her while I come, then she’s not allowed to hear how much I fucking love every second of it.
She continues to move over me as I quietly succumb to the tremors. When it’s over, she comes to a stop on top of me. I open my eyes and look up at her and catch her smiling down at me. As soon as she realizes I’m looking at her, the smile is gone.
I want her to collapse against my chest. I want to roll her onto her back and take her in my mouth until she’s screaming my name out in ecstasy, rather than anger.
Instead, she slowly slides off of me. She stands and turns toward the bathroom. “Goodnight, Warren.”
The door closes behind her and I’m lying here in complete confusion. I would be running after her right about now, but I’m still too weak to move.
I give myself time to regroup, and then I remove the condom and toss it into the bathroom trash can on my way to her bedroom. I swing open the door just as she’s crawling into her bed. As soon as her head meets her pillow, I’m on top of her, kissing her. As expected, she pushes me away.
“What did I say about being clingy?” she says, pulling her face from mine.
“I’m not being clingy,” I say, kissing my way down her neck. “We’re not finished.”
She pulls away even farther and pushes my face back. “I’m pretty sure we finished, Warren. About three minutes ago.”
“I finished,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “But you didn’t finish.” I can feel her resistance as she attempts to roll over.
“Warren, stop,” she says, pushing me away.
I don’t pull away from her. Instead, I wrap my arm around her and slowly move my hand across her stomach.
That’s when she slaps me.
I immediately pull back and look down at her in shock.
She pushes me away and scoots up on her bed until her back meets the headboard. “I said stop,” she says, defending her slap.
I work my jaw back and forth, not sure what to do. In all my years of experience with girls and even in all the recent porn I’ve been watching, this isn’t how s*x usually goes. People are selfish by nature and the fact that she doesn’t even want me to get her off is confusing the hell out of me.
“Am I . . .” I pause and look at her. “Am I misreading something here? Because I thought . . .”
“We fucked, Warren. It’s over, now go to sleep.”
I shake my head. “No, Bridgette. You fucked. You did all the work and you didn’t even get to enjoy it. I don’t understand why you won’t let me touch you.”
She groans, frustrated. “Warren, it’s fine. It was fun.” She looks away from me. “I just don’t like the other part, so go to bed.”
She doesn’t like the other part? The part where she has an amazing, mind- blowing orgasm?
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll go to bed.” “Thank you,” she mutters.
“But first,” I say, holding up my finger. “I need to know something.”
She rolls her eyes. “What?”
I lean toward her and look at her with fascination. “Is this how s*x always is with you? You have to be in complete control, to the point where you don’t even allow someone to get you off?”
She kicks at me with her foot, trying to get me to leave her bed. “I’m not discussing my s*x life with you, Warren. Go back to your room.”
She scoots down on her bed until her head meets her pillow. She rolls over until her back is to me and she pulls the covers up over her head.
Holy shit. This is . . . I don’t even know what to think. I’ve never met anyone like her. She has some serious control issues.
“Bridgette,” I whisper, needing her to roll over and talk to me again. She ignores me, but I can’t leave because this conversation needs to happen. “Are you telling me you’ve never had an orgasm during s*x?”
The covers fly off her head and she rolls onto her back. “It’s never been an issue with anyone until you,” she says angrily.
I laugh and shake my head and for some reason, feel extremely happy about this. Because she’s apparently been with some really selfish assholes in the past, and I’m about to show her what she’s been missing.
She pulls the covers back over her head and faces the opposite direction again. Rather than stand and walk back to my room like I know she wants me to do, I lift the covers and slide in behind her. I wrap my arm over her, pressing my palm against her stomach, pulling her against my chest.
She practically growls at me. “Warren, stop. Believe it or not, I’m perfectly happy with my s*x life, and I don’t need you to Oh, my God.” She stops mid-rant as soon as I cup her between the legs.
I rest my cheek against hers. “I need you to shut up, Bridgette.”
She doesn’t move, so I roll her onto her stomach and slide on top of her. I pin her arms beneath my hands, just like she did me earlier. “Please don’t resist me,” I whisper into her ear. “I want to be in control, and I want you to do what I say.” I run my tongue across her ear and watch as the chills break out on her neck. “Understood?”
Her breaths are shallow, and she squeezes her eyes shut with her nod.
“Thank you,” I tell her. I kiss my way down her neck and shoulder, and then work my kisses slowly across her back. Her entire body is tense and knowing that she’s never experienced an orgasm at the hands of another guy already has me hard again.
I reach down to her thighs and spread her legs with my hand. She buries her face into her pillow and it makes me smile. She’s never been this vulnerable with someone else, and she doesn’t want to give me the pleasure of seeing how much she enjoys it.
I keep my eyes focused on her anyway as I slowly push two fingers inside of her, waiting for her to moan into her pillow.
She doesn’t make a sound, so I pull them out and re-enter her with three fingers this time.
I press my forehead into her pillow, right next to her face, and I wait for the sounds to escape.
Nothing. I laugh quietly, because I really have my work cut out for me.
I pull my hand away from her and flip her onto her back. Her eyes are still closed tightly so I grab her jaw and press my lips to hers. I kiss her hard and deep, until she begins to kiss me back with just as much anger. She pulls at my hair and spreads her legs for me, wanting me to bury myself inside of her.
I do. I push her panties aside and shove into her so hard and fast, she lets out a moan and my God, I need more of that. So much more. But I don’t have on a condom, and this time isn’t about me, so I pull out of her. I take one of her breasts in my hands and bring it to my mouth.
I slowly kiss my way down her stomach and the lower I get, the tenser her body grows. I can feel her hesitation and part of me wants to devour her immediately, but part of me needs to know that I’m not going too far, too fast. I can tell by the stiffness in her posture that she’s nervous now. I position both my hands on her waist and look up
at her. She’s chewing nervously on her bottom lip and her eyes are terrified.
“Have you never let anyone do this to you?” I whisper.
She releases her bottom lip with the shake of her head. “I don’t like it.”
“How would you know?” She shrugs. “I just know.”
I pull her hips down several inches on the bed. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.” I lift her and begin to lower my mouth to her, but she pulls back and sits up.
“Don’t. I don’t want to do this.”
I grip her hips and pull her back down. “Lie back and close your eyes, Bridgette.”
She continues to look at me with fear in her eyes, refusing to lie back down, so I lift up onto the palms of my hands. “Will you please stop being so stubborn and just relax? Fuck, woman. I want to give you the best ten minutes you’ve ever had in your life, but you’re making it really difficult.”
She bites her lip hesitantly, but she does as I say and slowly lowers herself to the bed, relaxing into her pillow.
I smile triumphantly and press my lips to her stomach again. I start just below her belly button and trail slow kisses all the way down until I meet her panties. I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull them down, over her hips, over her thighs, and I continue to slowly remove them until I’m at her ankles. Once I toss them on the floor, I lift her leg and press a soft kiss against her ankle, then her calf, then the inside of her knee, repeating the kisses all the way up her thigh, until I’m inches from sliding my tongue against her. As soon as I position my mouth over her, I can feel her warmth beckoning me.
“Warren, please . . .” she begins to protest. As soon as the word
please leaves her mouth, my tongue slides against her, separating her.
She lifts her hips several inches off the bed and cries out, so I grip her waist and pull her back down to the bed.
She’s sweet and salty and as soon as my mouth is against her, I’m convinced she could satiate every ounce of hunger I’ll feel for the rest of my life.
She cries out again, still trying to pull away from me. “What . . .
God . . . Warren . . .”
I continue to lick her, devour her, run my tongue over every bare part of her so that I leave no inch of her untasted. Her hands find their way back to my hair just as my fingers find their way back inside of her. I’m filling her, consuming her with my tongue, and she’s taking every ounce of me she can get. She’s no longer trying to scoot away from me. Now she’s pressing my face into her, begging me to go faster.
Her hands leave my hair and meet her headboard as she grips it tightly and locks her legs around my shoulders. I keep my fingers buried inside of her as she cries out my name with each tremor that racks her body. I continue to please her until her shudders subside and her moans fade into silence.
I kiss the inside of her thigh as I pull my fingers out of her. I kiss all the way up her stomach until I’m pressed against her again, wanting to slide inside of her and stay the night.
I want to kiss her, but I don’t know if she’d want that. Some girls prefer not to be kissed afterward, but my mouth is aching with a need to feel her lips against mine.
Apparently she wants the same thing, because she doesn’t even hesitate when she pulls my face to hers and kisses me with a moan. There’s so much pressure in every inch of my body, because I want to take her again. The only thing that can relieve that pressure is to push into her, which is exactly what I do.
She lifts her hips and meets my thrusts and I know I should stop. I have to stop.
I don’t know why I can’t stop.
I’ve never been inside a girl without a condom before, but she makes me stupid. She renders my conscience useless, and all I can think about is how incredible she feels.
And also how much I need to stop.
Stop, Warren. Stop.
I somehow pull out of her and press my face against her chest, gasping for air.
It hurts. God, it hurts. I live in the next room, where there’s a drawer full of condoms, but I’m not sure I’d make it that far if I tried to stand.
She pulls my face back to hers and presses her lips to mine. She slides her hands down to my lower back and she pulls me against her, pressing her warmth against me as she urges me to move with her.
She feels incredible. It’s not the same as being inside her, but the way she’s moving against me feels pretty damn close. I close my eyes and bury my face against her neck as I work to increase the pace between us.
I grab a fistful of her hair and tilt her face to mine as I look down on her, watching as we both grow nearer to yet another release. She winces and I feel the first of her shudders pass through her. “Warren,” she whispers. “Kiss me.”
I do.
I cover her mouth with mine and drown out her moans with my own as I feel the warmth of my release spread between us. I’m holding her as tight as I can, kissing her as hard as I can.
All my weight is against her now that I’m physically incapable of holding myself up for another second. Her hands slide from my neck and fall to the bed. I’m too weak to speak, or I would be telling her how amazing she is. How good she feels. How perfect her body is and how she just single-handedly got the upper hand for all of eternity.
I can’t speak, though. My eyes fall shut from pure exhaustion.
Pure, blissful exhaustion.
“Warren.”
• • •
I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. Or I just don’t want to. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced as deep of a sleep as the one I’m being torn from right now.
Her hand is on my shoulder and she’s shaking me. I lift my head and turn to face her, curious if she’s ready for another round. I smile at her through sleepy eyes.
“Go to your room,” she says, kicking me with her feet. “You’re snoring.”
My eyes fall shut again but they fly open when her cold feet meet my stomach. She uses the strength of her legs to try and push me out of her bed. “Go,” she groans. “I can’t sleep.”
I somehow manage to get myself upright. I look down at her as she turns onto her stomach, flips her pillow over, and stretches out across her mattress.
I shuffle through her bedroom, pass through our bathroom, and make my way to my own bed. I collapse onto it and close my eyes, falling back to sleep within seconds.
