She’d been reading on the couch and jumped up to let me in.
When she opened, I lifted the bag of chicken. “Care for some cock?”“Wow. Does it taste as good as it looks?” Bridget bent over the oven to remove the tray of food she’d popped in to reheat. She was wearing thin, little shorts, and I swallowed finding myself mulling over the question inappropriately. I cleared my throat and forced my eyes from her ass.
“Even better, actually.”
She removed the oven mitts and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “Will you join me? I hate to eat alone.”
Of course, I’d already had my meal earlier. But I could almost always eat. “Sure.” I walked to the refrigerator. “What would you like to drink?”
“Actually, I’d love some wine. There’s an unopened bottle in the door. I don’t get to drink too often because I make it a rule to never drink alone. After…the accident, there were a few tough months that I started to do that, and I realized it would be very easy to make it a daily habit with no one to answer to. So I made it a rule to only drink with others.”
“I suppose that’s a good rule.” I didn’t drink often either, but that was more for a lack of time and a lack of tolerance for feeling like shit while working a twenty-hour shift. I removed the Sauvignon blanc from the refrigerator and rummaged through a drawer until I found a corkscrew. It opened with a loud pop that made Bridget smile.
“I love that sound,” she said. “I don’t know why.”
I poured two glasses, and Bridget asked if I would mind eating in the living room on the coffee table because Brendan was a light sleeper and would hear us less in there. She set the plates on the table, and I brought our wine glasses, as well as the bottle.
When I’d knocked and nearly scared the crap out of her a few minutes earlier, she’d been reading, so I picked up her book. “And what are we reading here?”
Bridget practically lunged at me to grab the book out of my hand, which only served to make me even more curious. I held it above my head, out of her reach. “It seems like you don’t want me to see what you’re reading.”
“Give me my book.”
I smirked. “Reach it.”
Bridget was tiny. I’d guess a good foot shorter than me. There was no way she was reaching the book, even if she jumped.
Her hands went to her hips. “Simon Hogue. Give me my book or else.”
“Or else, what?”
“Or else…so help me, I’ll climb you like a tree and get that book myself.”
Maybe I should have gone home with Brianna and gotten my fill…because I sort of fancied the thought of Bridget climbing me like a tree. “You’re welcome to climb me, luv, but be careful, some trees have thick wooden branches and you could get poked.”
Her face pinked, and I wasn’t sure if it was from my lewd comment or if she was pissed. Either way, it worked for me apparently, because I felt a twitch in my pants. Afraid I might be having a twelve-year-old boy uncontrollable reaction, I thought it best to give in sooner, rather than later. “Here you go. I was only screwing around.”
Bridget snatched the book out of my hands and shoved it into the drawer of an end table.
“What’s so private that I can’t read it, anyway? Are you reading porn?”
Her already pink face turned a deep crimson. I’d hit the nail on the head.
“It’s not porn. It’s a romance novel.”
“That you get off to.”
Her eyes widened.
I shrugged. “What’s the big deal? I like porn. Have myself a decent collection if you ever want to share. Maybe I can borrow your book, and you can borrow my DVDs. I’ll even wipe ‘em off before I give ‘em to you.”
She added a scrunched up nose to those eyes that were already saucers. “Please, tell me you’re joking?”
“About the DVDs? Yes.”
She looked relieved, so I clarified what I’d meant. “It’s the new millennium. No one buys porn on DVD anymore. It’s all on my MacBook from downloads.”
Bridget shook her head and sat down on the floor. “I think I need that wine now.”
I had to move the table out a bit to be able to fit between the couch and the coffee table, but once I sat down, it felt good to stretch out my legs. Bridget plated us food, and the chicken tasted even better the second time.
“Mmmm. This is so good,” she said.
“I’ll bring you home my leftover cock from now on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Must you do that? Always make everything a sexual innuendo.”
“It’s just so hard not to when you like my sexy talk so much.”
I caught her smirk before she shoveled her mouth full of my cock. God, I need to stop even thinking about that. I pretended to make myself more comfortable but I was really discreetly adjusting my jeans that were growing snug in the crotch.