“Did you just tell him we had sex?”
I find myself once again shaking my head. “He already knew. I told him the other day.”
Bridgette tilts her head to the side. “We had sex last night. How did you tell him before it happened?”
I grin. “I had a good feeling.”
She lets her head drop back in defeat, until she’s staring up at the ceiling. “I knew it was a bad idea.”
“It was a great idea,” I interject.
She looks at me with as much seriousness as she can muster. “It was a onetime thing, Warren.”
I hold up two fingers. “It was twice, actually.”
She makes a face that lets me know just how much I’m irritating her. “I’m serious, Warren. We’re not doing it again.”
“Thank God,” I say, slowly stepping toward her. “Because it was awful, wasn’t it? I could tell you weren’t enjoying it.” I continue across the kitchen until I’m less than a foot from touching her. “You especially weren’t enjoying the part when you were on your back, and my tongue was . . .”
She slaps her hand over my mouth to shut me up. She’s looking at me, narrow-eyed. “I’m serious, Warren. This changes nothing. We aren’t a couple. In fact, I’ll probably bring other guys home and you need to be prepared for that.”
She removes her hand from my mouth and I disagree. “You will not.”
She looks at me with a competitive gleam in her eyes. “I will. This is why I warned you not to get clingy.”
Ha. She thinks this is clingy? If she smiles and laughs like she did last night, she’ll find out just how clingy I can be.
“If you don’t want me to want you anymore, it’s not that hard,” I tell her. “Just don’t smile at me.” I lean forward until my lips are at her ear. “If you don’t smile at me, I won’t have the urge to do all those bad things to you. Because your smile is incredible, Bridgette.”
I pull away slowly and look down at her. She’s attempting to control the rise and fall of her chest, but she’s not fooling me. I grin, and the faintest of smiles appears on her lips. I reach my hand up and touch the corner of her mouth with my finger. “You’re such a tease.”
She pulls away from me and calmly pushes against my chest. She grabs her drink and returns to her bedroom without another word.
I press my head against the cabinet door and sigh heavily. What have I done? What in God’s name have I done to myself?
• • •
Bridgette and I both had the day off today, and I was positive that after our interaction this morning, and especially after last night, that she’d be all over me by nightfall. However, she completely ignored me. She stayed in her room most of the day, and she wouldn’t even acknowledge me. Now it’s after eleven at night. I have to be at work tomorrow morning, and I know she has an early class, so my hope for a round three is swiftly dwindling.
She even locked the door when she took a shower earlier.
I sit on the edge of my bed and contemplate the night before, going over every single move in my head, wondering where I went wrong. The only thing I can conclude is that I did nothing wrong. I did everything right, and this scared her, because she’s not used to guys taking control over her. I made her feel weak.
She doesn’t like to feel weak. She obviously has serious power issues and I messed with her head. This should probably make me feel guilty, but actually I’m proud. I love that I got to her. I love that I’m slowly figuring her out. And the best part is, I have a feeling that she’ll be coming back for a repeat. Maybe not tonight, but she’ll be back, because she’s human. Every human has a weakness and I think I just discovered what hers is.
Me.
I crawl under the covers and close my eyes, but I can already tell I won’t be able to sleep. It’s as if last night awakened this hunger inside of me and if I don’t feed it every night before I go to bed, I’ll never fall asleep. I count sheep, I count stars, I repeat Bible verses in my head that I learned when I was five. None of it works, because I’m still here an hour later and I’m still wide awake.
I wonder if she’s awake.
I wonder if she would open her door if I knocked.
I toss the covers off and begin to walk to my door, but immediately U-turn to the nightstand for a condom. All I have on are boxers, so I slip it beneath the elastic band and open my bedroom door.
Boobs.
Her boobs.
They’re right here.
Her hand is in the air, poised to knock on my door. She looks just as shocked that I opened it as I am that she’s standing here. She’s wearing a black lace bra and the tiniest pair of panties I’ve ever seen in my life. She lowers her arm and we stare at each other for a solid five seconds before I’m pulling her inside, slamming my door and pushing her up against it. Her tongue is in my mouth faster than I can slip my hand beneath her bra.