Happy Friday to you, and Happy Birthday to me! Ha. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. :3
6
I'm a little self-conscious about my apartment when Bella and I walk in.
It's nice enough, I guess—just a standard place. Cheap appliances. Off-white walls and carpet. Having it come furnished made my life easier, but other than a few personal items, there's nothing really here that screams me. I've done a shitty job of making this place an actual home, so yeah, imagining it through her eyes makes me a little apprehensive.
Not to mention it's kind of messy right now. I didn't pick up before I left because I didn't think this would be a possibility.
While Bella looks around, I send a quick text to Chels, asking her how Riley's doing. I pocket my phone in time to see Bella walking over to a shelf where I have some photos.
"This is your little girl?" she asks, picking up one of the frames.
I smile. "Yeah."
"She's adorable," Bella says, admiring Riley's kindergarten photo.
"Thanks."
She stares a little longer, stealing a glance or two at me. "She has your nose and your smile."
She's got Chelsea's everything else.
"You want a beer?" I ask, walking into the kitchen to open the fridge.
"Sure."
"Will Bud Light work? It's not that fancy craft beer we had at the brewery."
She chuckles. "I'm not a beer snob. Bud Light is fine."
I duck my head into the fridge and grab two bottles, popping off the tops with my thumb, letting them land on the counter.
We sit on the couch, beers in hand. Her sandals are off and her tan legs bent beside her on the cushions.
"Comfy," she comments.
"Thanks. It's not mine, though. The place came furnished." I don't know why the fuck I'm telling her this. "Every unit here has the same setup or whatever."
"Ohhh." She glances around with this new knowledge. "That makes sense. It does seem a little too put together now that you mention it."
"What, you don't think I'd be capable of decorating this place myself?" I tease, humor lacing my tone.
She laughs. "No. It just isn't your style, I guess."
"Oh? And what's my style?" I ask, kinda teasing again.
Her words come easily. "Rugged. Simple. Not trying too hard. Why'd you choose a furnished place, anyway?"
"It was just easier for me. Move-in ready. Didn't wanna have to buy new stuff." My beer is cold in my palm, and I scratch at the label with my thumb.
"That's convenient."
"Yeah."
We drink in silence. I should've put some music or something on before we sat down, but setting the mood didn't even cross my fucking mind.
"So, I want to know something," Bella says, a coy smile on her lips.
"What's that?" I ask, staring at her mouth and the way it's pursed around the lip of the bottle when she sips her beer.
"What did you say to those construction workers to get them to leave me alone?"
"Ah." I laugh once. "It's stupid."
"I wanna know."
I swig my beer. "I just said you're off-limits."
She considers this. "That's all?"
"And if they so much as look at or talk to you when you walk by, I might not use words next time to tell them to back off." I got a few laughs from the guys and a couple of snarky remarks, but in the end, they all agreed.
"You'd fight them?" Bella asks, seemingly impressed.
"I dunno. Maybe. Thankfully, I don't have to find out," I say lightly. "It's mostly one or two of them who start it; the others follow. Some of them are good guys. Most are fucking perverts."
"I like that you're one of the good guys."
She holds my gaze. It's quiet between us. In a good way. In a heated way.
And then my phone vibrates in my pocket.
"Sorry, I gotta…" I shift on the couch to pull out my cell. It's not Chelsea, but a text from Jared, letting me know I don't have to drop him off at home tomorrow. I don't ask why, just send a thumbs up emoji, then I check to see if Chelsea replied yet. I didn't text her too long ago, but it's weird I haven't heard back. She's probably pissed at me, though she has no right to be.
"Are you sure everything is okay?" Bella asks, and my eyes snap to hers.
"Sorry, yeah. When I got that call at the brewery, it was uh…" I pause, unsure if I should bring up Chelsea. "My ex was calling to say my kid might be sick. So."
"Oh, no." She frowns. "Do you need to go?"
"I don't know," I say honestly. "Her mom hasn't texted me back yet, but Riley was sleeping when she called earlier. So, maybe she's okay…"
"Is it rude or too nosy if I ask about that?"
"About what?"
"About you and Riley's mom."
My chest tightens with anxiety. "What do you wanna know?"
Bella shrugs. "Whatever you're willing to share."
Only the bad stuff comes to mind.
Like finding Chelsea in our bed with another man. The painful screaming match that followed after he scrambled to leave. The arguments and tears that lasted days. Weeks. Months. The confusion in hating her so fucking much and also wanting her to love me.
"We were married for nine years before she cheated on me," is what I tell Bella.
"Oh… shit." She looks apologetic, but more so like she's sorry she asked at all. "I'm sorry."
"It is what it is. The divorce has been final for a year."
She's quiet. "That's pretty recent."
"Yeah, I guess so." It honestly feels like just yesterday I found out about her infidelity.
"Is that partly why you're looking for something casual?"
I shrug. "It's hard imagining jumping back into anything, and I just don't have a lot of time, between work and my kid."
"Well, I'm glad you made time tonight," she says simply.
"Me too." Despite being stuck in my head about dating and having zero game, the night has gone extremely fucking well, and I'm glad I didn't let my uncertainty stop me from seeing her.
"I wasn't lying when I said I've been thinking about you."
"Me either," I murmur, eyes darting toward her lips.
My phone vibrates with another text, and I instantly pick it up.
"Sorry," I tell Bella.
"It's okay."
Chelsea: She's still sleeping. No fever. Enjoy your date!
It's accompanied by an eye-roll emoji.
The relief I feel knowing Riley's okay is overshadowed by Chelsea's passive-aggressive comment.
"Everything cool?" Bella asks as I set my phone on the coffee table.
"Riley's good."
"Are you good?"
"Yeah. You?"
"I'm so good," she says playfully. I fight a yawn, and she laughs. "Are you tired?"
"I'm so fucking sorry." I scrub a hand over my mouth as I finally give into it, letting the fatigue set in. "I'm having a lot of fun with you, really."
"I can go if you're tired…"
I shake my head. "I don't want to take you home just yet."
"Why not?"
"I haven't even kissed you," I say quietly. Maybe saying that isn't smooth, but I don't care. I just wanna fucking kiss her.
"What are you waiting for?" She challenges me.
I laugh and set my beer on the coffee table, then lean closer and take her face in my hands, my lips on hers.
It's softer than the other kisses we've had. A little lazier. Not frantic or desperate, but it's heated and needy in another way. Maybe because we already know just how fucking good we can make each other feel, and I'm not trying to rush this.
She kisses her way to my neck and moves to sit in my lap.
"I've been thinking about that night so much," she murmurs, rolling her hips against mine, making me crave that friction.
"Me too."
"Have you?"
"Fuck, yes," I grit out.
I'm already so hard.
With the way she's straddling me, her dress bunches up, and I grab her ass, digging my fingers into her skin, loving the little sounds she makes when I touch her there.
"Why are you so sexy?" I ask. "Everything about you. Everything."
I'm rambling, and I'm tired, but I want this so fucking badly.
Her face is hidden as she sucks on my neck, but I can feel her smile just before she brings my earlobe between her teeth.
"Can I ride you right here?" she whispers in my ear. "Would you like that?"
I groan, and my hips instinctively buck.
"Please," I beg. "I'd fucking love it."
I kiss her again, then slip the straps of her dress over her shoulders and pull down the front, so I can see her tits. She's not wearing a bra, and I like that. My rough hands pinch and palm soft skin.
"Fuck, Bella. Look at you."
She unbuckles my belt then moves off me, and I push my jeans and boxers down. I don't even bother stepping out of them completely, letting them stay around my ankles. She's on me again, her knees pressing into the cushions, dress still on, but tits exposed. She hovers over me and pushes her underwear to the side.
"Want you so bad," I breathe, rubbing the head of my dick over her.
Her gaze is heated, and her smile is sexy. "How bad?"
"So fucking bad. Please."
She grips me, and I touch between her legs, feeling how ready she is.
"No one else?" she asks.
"Huh?"
"I haven't slept with anyone else since you."
She thinks I could've fucked someone else in the last week. It's ambitious. I want to laugh, but she's still touching me, and it feels so damn good.
"Only you," I tell her.
She slowly sinks down onto me, burying her face in my neck.
"Ah, fuuuck," I hiss, gripping her waist.
She grinds slowly. Languidly. She moves her hips until she can take all of me, and when she can, I lift mine a little, so I can go deeper.
"Feels so good," she mumbles against my skin.
I can't speak. Just pound faster and press my face into her chest, her tits in my mouth.
Our pace increases. Her mouth finds mine again, but we don't kiss. She inhales, and I exhale, our breath mingling, both of us too caught up.
I cup her face with both hands and watch her ride me. My fingers are on her neck, thumbs grazing her cheeks. She turns her head a little, so my thumb is in her mouth. Then she sucks on it, in and out. Wet and warm.
"Want you to come," I manage to say, so, so close.
"Me too," she murmurs. "Touch me." She pulls her dress over her head and grabs my hand, putting it where we connect. "Rub me," she whimpers, and when I do, she fucking moans.
"Like that?" I ask.
"Yeah, like that."
I try to hold off. Try to focus on something other than how good she feels. But the sounds she's making and the way she swivels her hips just so is too fucking much.
"You fuck me so good," she pants, and with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, she starts to cry out and clench around me.
Still, I hold off, trying to let her ride it out. The second she starts to relax, I'm done.
"Gonna come," I warn, then lift her off of me just before I do. "Shit." I blink slowly, my head against the back of the couch, trying to ignore the mess on my stomach.
When I look at her, she leans over for a kiss. "I'll grab you some tissues," she says, standing and putting her dress back on.
I laugh a little. "Thanks."
She disappears into the bathroom, and I sit here, a little helpless, until she comes back out, and I clean off my stomach. I pull up my jeans but leave my belt undone, thanking her again.
"Ready for round two, old man?" she teases, and with her standing so close, I pull her to stand between my legs.
"I gotta sleep before that happens," I tell her honestly, my body too relaxed and tired to go again right now.
She brushes my hair back and dips her head to kiss me softly.
"If you're too tired to drive me home, I can Uber."
"Or you could stay."
"Or I could stay," she echoes, smiling a little. "You want me to?"
I easily pull her into my lap. "Yeah."
"Then I'll stay."