Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3)

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Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) Page 16

by Aubrey Bondurant


  I nodded, watching him walk to the bathroom and return with a box of condoms, setting it on the nightstand.

  He took a single foil packet, ripping into it with his teeth and then holding it out for me.

  Oh, crap. My mind frantically tried to recall high school health class with the condom and the cucumber. A flash of panic hit me about whether to disclose it being my first time? If I did though, what would it mean?

  But the moment all of his clothes came off, every thought, doubt, and brain cell exited. Holy shit. Colby Singer was naked, and he was spectacular. Then he was on me, scorching and firm everywhere to the touch, kissing me fervently.

  “Put it on me, sweetheart,” he urged, with both of us now on our sides, wrapped up in one another with him kissing behind my ear, down my neck.

  With shaking hands, I managed to slip the condom down his hard length as his fingers found me wet and wanting.

  “One more orgasm for your tight pussy to get it ready.”

  I threw my head back while he strummed my clit with practiced skill and embarrassingly quick results—I went off like a cannon only a couple minutes later. He added another finger inside of me, then one more, stretching me exquisitely. Moving me onto my back, he spread my knees apart to make room for him between them.

  He aligned his erection between the lips of my sex, causing me to gasp at the sensation of the imminent penetration. Bracing myself for the initial pain, I was thankful when his mouth took mine, and he thrust in quickly. “Oh, God,” I whimpered, feeling the sting and then the delicious burn from the unfamiliar intrusion.

  Inching out, he pushed back in, deeper this time. When he buried his face in my neck, I could feel his labored breaths. “Christ, you’re snug.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” His hand gripped one side of my ass, lifting me up to meet his strokes. My initial discomfort was finally giving way to unbelievable pleasure.

  He chuckled. “Hell, yes, although I may not last very long with the vice grip you have on me.”

  Good grief, the man sure knew how to move his hips. “I think that makes two of us.” I arched my back, feeling him hit a particularly sensitive spot over and over, building my orgasm up steadily. When his mouth clamped down on my nipple, biting it gently, I cried out with my climax as I clutched his backside, pulling him deeper into me.

  “Fuck,” he groaned on a final thrust, seating himself fully and pinning my hips down to the mattress as he grinded out his own climax.

  We lay there, letting our breathing settle until he rolled off of me slowly. “You okay?”

  I was better than okay. I felt fantastic after three orgasms, despite the soreness from my first time. “Uh-huh. Clearly you weren’t exaggerating your capabilities beyond the kiss.”

  He grinned, leaning in to nibble my bottom lip before getting up. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare get dressed.” He disappeared into the bathroom, I assumed to dispose of the condom.

  Pulling up the comforter, I waited for him to return and snuggle into me. Naked cuddling was on the table for the first time, and I, for one, couldn’t wait.

  Instead, the light flipped on suddenly with his raised voice startling me. “Why is there blood?” He was looming over the bed, still naked.

  “What?” My brain slowly caught up with his words. Shit, he must’ve seen it on the condom.

  “Why was there blood, Kenz?” He looked completely panic-stricken.

  “It’s not a big deal.” My voice was small.

  His eyes narrowed. “Tell me you weren’t a fucking virgin.”

  My face heated, and when he pulled back the comforter, I cringed at where his gaze rested. On the unmistakable blood spots showing on the sheet.

  I sat up in bed. “I, uh, technically yes.”

  “Technically?” He was breathing heavily, looking more upset by the second. “That’s a nice word. How about another one starting with T: Truthfully.”

  I swallowed hard. “I didn’t lie, technically—” Oh, boy, the anger on his face showed how much he appreciated that word a second time.

  “You withheld information, which is the same damn thing as lying. You, of all people who I could’ve bet my life would never do that to me, and yet you did.”

  “It wasn’t intentional, but I knew—”

  “Yeah, you fucking knew I wouldn’t have taken your virginity. You knew it, so you lied. I can’t believe it. I thought I felt something when I—Shit—As if sleeping with Brian’s baby sister didn’t already make me an asshole, taking your virginity puts me down a whole other level of a piece of shit. There’s a reason why a guy like me is not with someone innocent, ever. Not even in high school. I’m not that guy.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why the hell haven’t you had sex before?”

  My eyes stung with unshed tears. “No one ever made it to the fifth date.” I knew it was lame the minute it left my lips.

  His laugh was dry and void of humor. “And why was that? Is this some sort of setup? All along, this was the plan? Pretend you had more experience than you did, hoping I wouldn’t notice?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  He was angrily taking clothes out of his dresser drawers and throwing them on. “You didn’t mean to what?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to be a big deal.”

  Wrong thing to say. He turned now, fully dressed. “It was a big fucking deal to me, and the fact you didn’t tell me means you knew that it would be.” He slipped on his shoes while refusing to meet my eyes. “I need to get out of here. You can use the car service to get you to and from any appointments you might have over the next few days.”

  The tears started while I watched him walk out of the bedroom. Then the sound of the garage door opening with the car starting up seconds later initiated a full-on, ugly cry. Putting my head in my hands, I felt the weight of the world that I’d majorly fucked up.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Colby hadn’t come home the night before, and I knew, without looking at myself in the mirror the next morning, that my eyes were puffy from crying myself to sleep. I discovered that guilt was a bitter pill to swallow. However, a healthy dose of frustration and annoyance began infusing itself into my misery.

  Yes, I hadn’t admitted that I was a virgin, but if it freaked him out that much, shouldn’t he have brought that up beforehand? And why was that the hard line after everything else we’d done up to that point? Furthermore, since he was a guy who didn’t want to talk numbers, how unfair was it to be hung up on mine?

  Rather than wasting any more energy on my warring emotions, I decided to get out of bed and make my first priority washing the sheets. After laundry then taking a shower, I contemplated packing my things and going to my apartment because it bothered me he’d felt the need to leave his own home. Hopefully he’d only need a few more hours to clear his head, and he’d be back later.

  It was tempting to call or go see him. But if I did that, then I made it sound like I was the only one that should be apologizing, when I thought his over-reaction warranted one as well. As hard as it was, I knew it was better to wait until we could both be rational about last night.

  Although Colby had a housekeeper who came twice a week, cleaning the entire house helped keep me busy until after noon. With still no communication from him, I finally broke down, deciding to reach out by texting him.

  “Can we talk?”

  Two hours later I was discouraged that he hadn’t at least answered. I understood he was angry, but we’d always been friends and if one of his biggest worries was ruining that bond, then the least he could do was answer with a: ‘will do,’ ‘maybe later,’ or even an ‘I’m not ready.’

  Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket, I took it out, hopeful the unknown number was him calling from the office.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Kenzie. It’s Jordan.”

  “Who?” Although my mind had already made the connection to the party and the bet, my heart couldn’t believe that after I’d had sex w
ith Colby, he’d given my number to another man.

  “Uh, Jordan Pratt, from the party last night.”

  I swallowed down the pain. “Right, Jordan. Sorry, I remember. You managed to get my number, huh?”

  He laughed. “It pays to have mutual friends. So I’m in town only for a couple more days and wondered if you’d like to get dinner tonight?”

  There wasn’t one part of me that desired to go. Instead, I wanted to curl into a little ball and cry my eyes out, but I was also insulted enough that I forced myself not to. “I have something I need to take care of first. But then I can let you know if it frees me up for dinner. Would that be okay?”

  “Sure. Call me later.”

  ***

  I was absolutely going to fucking kill Colby. I’d gone from feeling somewhat guilty about last night to being absolutely livid he’d given my phone number to someone he’d labeled a player—the day after we’d had sex for the first time. I’d never been to his office, but I wasn’t waiting another minute before confronting him about this.

  Refusing to use his car service on principle, I waited on Uber and arrived at his production company office close to five o’clock. The stunning receptionist, who could’ve been an actress with her flawless face, greeted me in the lobby. She lifted a brow when I requested to see the man in charge by name.

  “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Singer?”

  “I don’t, however if you could tell his assistant, Rhonda, that Kenzie Lane is here to see him, I’d appreciate it.”

  She gave me the condescending once-over but did manage to pick up the phone and call while I stood over in the posh reception area. Thankfully, I’d chosen to wear a long skirt paired with a cute top, so I didn’t feel completely out of place. When his assistant came out to get me, I let out a breath. At least he hadn’t told her to block me out.

  “Kenzie, it’s nice to finally meet you after all these years. Colby has always spoken fondly of you.”

  “He’s spoken warmly of you, too.” Rhonda was in her late fifties and smiled at me warmly. I knew she’d been with him since he’d started this venture years ago, and he had a sweet spot for the woman he often called his second mom.

  “How have you been feeling since the accident?” she inquired, leading me towards what I deduced was his office.

  “I’m healing. Had the casts removed yesterday, and now I only have to contend with this boot for a few more weeks.”

  “Glad to hear it. Mr. Singer is finishing up a meeting, but it’s the last one of the day, so I’ll send you in after honey.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I took a seat in the small sitting area, attempting to control my anger, which was now spiked with a big dose of nerves. When I saw his office door open a few minutes later with two men coming out, the anxiety slammed with full force into me.

  “Go on in, dear,” Rhonda offered.

  My stomach churned, and I started to have doubts this was the best idea. Maybe I should’ve waited to do this later at his house. But it was too late to back down now. The moment I crossed the threshold, my eyes greedily drank in the vision of him in a suit and tie behind his massive desk. Damn. Having him look this good wasn’t making this any easier. I shut the door behind me as I took a deep breath.

  “Since I don’t have any more meetings today, Rhonda, I’m heading out.”

  “Are you going home?”

  I watched his head whip up, surprise registering on his handsome face. Other than slight shadows under his eyes indicating that he might have had a sleepless night, he didn’t look any the worse for wear.

  “Actually, I was planning to hit the gym.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m not ready to talk.”

  There was an undercurrent of annoyance in his statement. Good. I was plenty pissed off myself. I crossed towards his desk, hoping to keep my voice at an acceptable decibel level. “A text back telling me that would’ve been a nice courtesy.”

  He stood up, his jaw clenched. “I had a busy day today.”

  “That’s bullshit. Simple words. I’m busy, will talk later. Not ready to talk yet.”

  “Fine. Now you can get it face to face: I’m not ready to talk yet.”

  “And maybe I would’ve respected that or your lack of a reply if you hadn’t gone and given Jordan Pratt my fucking phone number. I understand you’re angry, Colby, but for a guy who kept telling me I deserve better, this was complete slap in the face. Or is this some sort of messed-up test to see if I’d say yes to Jordan?”

  He walked around his desk, stopping inches from me. “I didn’t give Jordan Pratt your number. When he text me, I told him you were a good girl and not his type.”

  “Oh.” This certainly took the wind out of my sails. “Then how the hell did he get it?”

  Anger showed in his eyes. “I have no clue. What did you say when he asked you out?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re good at avoiding answers by asking questions of your own.”

  I swallowed hard at being called out. “If me being a virgin was such a huge deal, why didn’t you ever say something?”

  His brows both shot up. “Are you being serious? I questioned how many guys had achieved fifth date status.”

  “And I asked if you really wanted to talk about numbers. If anything, you’re being hypocritical. You wouldn’t like me judging you for your numbers, so how the hell could you judge me for mine?”

  He shook his head, giving a humorless chuckle. “Unbelievable. Now it’s my fault you weren’t completely honest with me?”

  My jaw ticked.

  “What did you tell Jordan when he asked you out?”

  “I told him I’d call him back later.”

  He didn’t look happy with my answer. “So you lose your virginity one night, then what? Keep your options open for dating another man? Was this something you needed to scratch off your list?”

  The air left my lungs. “I thought you gave him my number after having sex with me. How do you think that made me feel?”

  “How do you think it makes me feel to know you’d think that of me?”

  We were at a stalemate. “I couldn’t believe you’d done it, either, which is why I’m here. But based on the facts, what would you think? You were so angry last night, and you clearly didn’t want to talk to me today, either.”

  His temple throbbed. “You should’ve told me, Kenz.”

  I took a deep breath, willing to meet him half way. “If I’d known you’d be that upset by it, then I would have. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be a big deal and honestly, I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  He merely stood there without saying a word making my unease grow with the minute that stretched out between us.

  “Obviously, you need more time, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t go home. I’ll move back into my apartment. I’m only a couple weeks away from being able to drive again, so it’s probably time.”

  “You’re not moving out.”

  If ever exasperation could hit a tipping point, this was it. “That’s your response to my apology? To demand I stay?”

  “I don’t need your brother calling, only to find out you moved out of my house. It’s bad enough that I’ve deflowered his baby sister.”

  My eyes got big. “Tell me you didn’t use the word deflower?”

  His lips twitched, fighting the urge to smile. “Would you rather I say I breached your maidenhead?”

  I cringed. “Jesus. What are we—in medieval times? We had sex, that’s it. Just because you happened to be my first doesn’t mean you’ll be the last, nor does it carry any extra burden with it.”

  Annoyance immediately clouded his features. “The hell it doesn’t. You saved yourself for a reason.”

  “Says who? Maybe I simply didn’t get around to it until last night.” Even if I believed that for a minute, I could tell he wasn’t buying it.

  He put his arms on either side of me, caging me against hi
s desk. “You’re doing it again. You’re deflecting.”

  Shit. I had no response.

  “I have an important question to ask you. And if ever there’s a time for you to be completely honest, this is it.”

  I swallowed hard as he was more serious than I’d ever seen him.

  “Did you turn down other guys because you wanted your first time with me?”

  Oh, boy. I licked my lips as the flush spread over my face. If we stood a chance at fixing this, I had to put it all on the line. “I didn’t consciously do it, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t compare them to you in some respect. I figured if I looked forward more to Sunday nights eating dinner and watching cable TV with you than any date, that maybe I hadn’t met the right guy yet. It wasn’t as though I didn’t try. I’ve gone out on more first dates than any other girl I know, but most didn’t get past that.”

  “How can you be so picky when you’re the coolest chick I know?”

  “College guys, for the most part, are looking to get laid, period. They’re lazy about it, as if getting a meal with a girl and getting to know her is too much trouble. Most don’t find my brain, my five-date rule, or my smart mouth all that amusing.”

  He sighed. “I can’t say I would’ve been any different back then, although in a few years’ time they’ll wish they would’ve put in the effort for a girl like you.”

  I blushed with the compliment.

  “What’s the furthest a guy did make?”

  “Date number four.”

  “The bad experience?”

  I nodded and then blurted it out. “He came in his jeans before I could unzip him and then blamed me for getting him too excited.”

  “So you never gave an actual blow job before me?” His eyes were wide with disbelief.

  “No, I hadn’t,” I whispered, hating that the fact most likely made me appear more deceptive in his eyes.

  He put distance between us, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Do you know what pisses me off the most about this situation?”

  I shook my head, not sure I was ready to hear it.

 

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