"Why did you bring her up?" I can hear the coolness in my own voice.
He finishes the glass of beer in one mouthful. He places it down with a dull thud on the table as his mouth thins into a line. "She wants me back. She came to see me at work yesterday."
A week ago I would have passed him on the street with a twist of my neck for an extra glance because he's so attractive. Now, I'm sitting here listening to him telling me that the woman he's been involved with for the past two years, wants him again. I'm not shocked. Sadness doesn't factor into what I'm feeling. I got to enjoy him for a few days in what has always been an ordinary life. How can I not take that experience and embrace it? He's not mine to have. I know that. I've known it since I took him into my bed.
"You're a class act." I push my hands against the edge of the table readying myself to stand. "Most guys wouldn't have gone to this much trouble to set things straight."
"Don't move, Bridget. Don't walk away from me. I won't let you do it."
"I can't do it, Dane. I won't fuck a guy if he has a girlfriend."
"Have you ever been in love?"
I remind myself that I'm talking to a man I only met mere days ago. I don't know anything about him beyond the fact that he's a fireman and he has a natural talent for fucking a woman senseless. I have no idea how old he is or where he was born. I don't know if he likes going to the movies, or if he even watches television. I know that twirling my tongue around the wide crest of the head of his cock, pulls a growl from deep within him that doesn't normally exist there. I know that he moans as he's tonguing me to orgasm. I know that when he slides his body into mine, it feels like everything in the entire world has stopped for those moments.
"Bridget?" he hesitates for a heartbeat before he continues. "You're twenty-three. You've been in love, haven’t you?"
I could lie and say that I have, but I haven't. "No. I've never been in love."
His mouth softens and his eyes catch mine across the table. "I was in love once."
With Maisy.
I know that those are the words that will follow. He'll speak about connections and bonds that are forged through good and bad times. He'll talk about investing in her and the growth that they've seen in one another. He'll say things that I'll carry with me until I find a man to love.
"You're in love with Maisy." The words spill from me so quickly they jam into one another in a twisted mess.
His brow furrows as he tries to decipher what I just said. "I loved Maisy."
It's a slight difference that has no place when you've just ended a relationship. Love can shift into something else in the blink of an eye but when you're standing on the precipice of letting it go, sliding back into it is easy. I know from experience. Not my own, of course, but a man I felt things for. They were feelings that held the promise of more until he left me to go back to the woman he cared for before he met me.
I smooth my hands over the fabric of my jeans as I lower my head. "You love Maisy. I get that. You don't owe me anything. I barely know you."
"You know me better than she ever did."
The low hum of his words brings my head up in a flash. I stare at his face. "I don't know anything about you."
"You know that I can't stay away from you," he says confidently. "You know that I want you in a way I've never wanted a woman before."
I don't know that. I want to know that. "You don't know me. We barely know each other."
He pushes aside the utensils and dishes that litter the table between us. I stare down at his hands, knowing he wants me to rest mine in them. I do because I crave his touch right now. I know it will ground me even if I'm not sure that I'll walk out of this diner with him in my life.
"When I met Maisy I saw something in her," he pauses to look at his shaky hands. "I guess I saw stability, and a future. We're the same age and we both wanted the same things."
"How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-nine. I haven't told you that?"
"No." I look away suddenly feeling foolish for having such little knowledge of man I've shared so much of my body with. "I didn't ask before."
"I turned twenty-nine this week." His eyes are dark and haunting. "I looked across the table in that restaurant at Maisy. I realized that I was living my life for her and not myself."
I look past his shoulder to the entrance of the diner. People are filing in and out as they would do on any given day. They're oblivious to the conversation that the two of us are having. "Did you fall out of love with her?"
"At some point I did." His voice is husky. "I was going through the motions but that night I realized that spending another year of my life with her would kill me inside."
I want to be mature and say the things that aren't expected. I want to know if she's beautiful. I'm craving the details about what he said to her at that table but those answers wouldn’t change anything. They will only feed my need to know about things that aren't my concern. They are moments and experiences that belong to Dane and Maisy, not to anyone else.
"I've been craving something more for months, Bridget."
"Why did you wait so long to leave her then?" I know the question is direct and maybe even rude given the fact that he's essentially pouring out his heart to me. "You did it on your birthday."
"That's an easy question to answer." His fingertips glide across the palm of my hand. "I saw you across the restaurant and my entire life changed."
Chapter 10
Men don't say things like that to me. Until now, the most romantic thing that a man has ever said to me was when Elliott, my boss at the pub, told me he thought I was breathtaking. He had been doing shots with a group of friends of his, so that could have accounted for some of his sentimentality that night. It didn't matter at the time. I'd clung to those words and the promise they held until the day we both realized that we made much better friends, than lovers.
"You left Maisy for me?" Shit. That sounded incredibly too egotistical. That's not even remotely close to what he said. It's not in the same ball park. "I mean, you didn't leave your girlfriend just because you saw me across a restaurant."
"You're right," he confirms quickly. "I was going to break up with her regardless but I saw you and realized that there's a lot more out there. You've helped me see that life is full of possibilities."
I've never been the shoulder to cry on for a man fresh out of a relationship. I've been there for female friends but that's a different dynamic. With them, I cradled them in my arms and consoled them by agreeing with their emotional tirades about how the man they loved was a lying asshole. With Dane, I gave my body to him because I needed his just as much.
I could say something about being glad I could help him out but that would sting me more than it would sting him. I'm his bridge to the other side of his pain. Once the emotional dust has settled and he can see beyond the end of his relationship with Maisy, I'll turn into a reminder of that and he'll need to move on. I can sense it.
"I know that you're probably not looking for something serious. I'm not either." His hands drop mine as he says the words. "I'd like to hang out sometimes. I mean, if you're up for that."
He'd like to fuck if I'm up for that. There's no masking that.
"Sure," I try to sound as non-invested in this as I can. "Hanging out with you is fun."
Translation: I like your tongue, Dane I like it A LOT.
"Great," he says in such a loud tone that it not only startles me, but the people at the table next to us jump too. "I'll stop by after you're done your shift tonight."
I know a booty call even when it's blocked its number. He's trying to shelter his desire to slide his cock balls deep into my body by hiding it behind the veil of a friendship. "I can't tonight. I'm going to a club with a few of the girls from work."
It's not a lie. One of the girls at work just moved to New York and in an effort to build some new connections, she'd invited the entire pub to a club in Times Square. I agreed to go because other than the date with La
rry and the stolen moments in my bedroom with Dane, my social calendar has been empty.
"You'll have a great time," he says with a grin. "You can tell me all about it the next time I see you."
I smile at the promise of a next time before I pick up my spoon and eat the rest of my now tepid soup.
***
"What do you think Maisy is short for?" I stretch my legs out in front of me. "I've been trying to figure it out for two days and I'm stuck."
"Is this for a crossword puzzle?" Zoe follows my lead and pushes her legs out from underneath her. "You know they always have all the answers to the puzzle in the newspaper the next day."
I turn to look at her. She'd invited me over to her apartment for a spa day as she called it. It's been nothing more than the two of us painting each other's fingernails and drinking cocktails. It's my one day off this week and I couldn't think of anyone I'd want to spend it with more than Zoe. I might have considered Dane if I didn't feel the need to catch my breath.
The man is dangerously addictive and now that I have more understanding about what happened between him and his girlfriend, I realize that he needs time. He may not think he does but I doubt, given my limited experience, that a person can walk away from someone they loved for two years without some lingering feelings.
"It's not a crossword puzzle." I take another sip of my drink. "It's someone's name."
"You know someone named Maisy? Is that like Daisy but with an M?"
"It's like Daisy with an M." I peer at her over the rim of the glass. "Do you think it is short for something?"
"Who do you know with a name like that? Is it someone from the pub?"
This is part of the charm that is Zoe Beck. I ask her a very straightforward question and it turns into something that becomes an hour long interrogation. It happened when I asked her what she thought about hair extensions. I've never gotten them and I owe that to Zoe. She talked me out of it after I asked her if I looked better with or without my hair in a ponytail. The woman knows how to drill down to the heart of the matter. It's no wonder she's studying to be a defense attorney.
"She doesn't work at the pub. She works in finance on Wall Street."
She cranes her neck to the side so she can stare at me directly. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"
I don't have an answer for that. "I was just curious. She's a friend of a friend and I was wondering what she's like."
"She's the ex of the stranger who comes to your apartment at night to fuck you, isn't she?"
As a matter of fact, yes she is. "He doesn't come to my apartment at night to fuck me anymore. I mean, it's not just that. We had dinner together the other night."
"That's a good sign." She doesn't glance up from her smartphone. Her perfectly manicured fingernail is tapping something out on it. "Are you two dating now?"
"No," I admit. "We're going to take it slow. Hang out sometimes."
"You're keeping your options open." She pats my knee. "I like that."
I press my back into the leather office chair I'm sitting in. We'd come into Zoe's home office after having lunch. She wanted to read over a case file that was assigned to her by her professor and I'd agreed to listen to her arguments. I know little about the law but I was definitely impressed with how persuasive she was.
"There's no Maisy working on Wall Street." She drops her phone into her lap. "I searched and came up empty."
I don't have the heart to tell her that I did the same thing last night. I wasn't expecting to find much and I was actually grateful when I found nothing at all.
"It doesn't matter," I say honestly. "He's a guy I have fun with. There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."
"Can it wait?" She tilts her head to the left just as I hear the baby cry. "I need to check on Vane."
I can't compete with that. I wouldn’t want to. I'll have to wait to ask Zoe if she can talk to her husband about looking at my drawings.
Chapter 11
"Did you have fun at the club?"
I smile at him. "I did. I didn't have as much fun as some of my co-workers."
His brows jump in response. "What does that mean?"
It means when we went to the club at Hotel Aeon in Times Square we walked into a room filled with people all looking for one thing. One of the girls I work with wasted no more than ten minutes before she was practically sitting in a random guy's lap sucking his tongue into her mouth.
I had a drink, refused more than a few offers for another and left before two in the morning. It should be my scene considering I'm single, young and adventurous, but I felt completely out of place there. I couldn't wait to get home and into my bed.
"Nothing," I say in an effort to change the subject. "How have you been?"
It's been four days since I had dinner with Dane. He's texted me twice to catch up and although our exchanges have been friendly and fun, I've been left with a deep sense of longing when they've ended. I like him. I like him too much given the fact that we met only a couple of weeks ago.
"I've been good." He takes a sip of the beer he ordered when he came into the pub an hour ago. "You've been avoiding me."
I haven't. Maybe I have been. After our conversation the other night, I'd called home to talk to my mom. I'd told her sparse details about a man I met and she warned me to keep my head in the game of my own life. She's right and now that I've decided to at least talk to Zoe about my drawings I feel the promise of new possibility.
"I haven't been avoiding you, Dane." I look across the table at him. He's still dressed in his work clothes. He rakes his hand through his short brown hair, which causes his bicep to bulge. I stare at it, remembering when he had me wrapped in his arms in my apartment.
"You like fucking me, don't you, Bridget?"
I almost inhale my own breath into my lungs. I look around, certain that some of the women sitting at the table next to us must have heard him. "You know that I do."
"You think I'm using you to get over Maisy." His eyes bore into me and I feel like a caged animal who is about to be pounced on. "I'm not."
"I don't know if you are," I begin before I stop to consider what I'll say next. "I had a lot of fun with you. I want to have that fun again. I just don't want to get caught up in the middle of your break up."
"My relationship with her is done." He skims his hand over the leg of his pants. "She knows it's over. I know it's over. That's the end of it."
There's no reason for me not to believe him. I don't know him well enough to read between the lines of the nuances in his voice. I do know that there's a flash of tenderness behind his eyes when he looks at me after he's come inside of me. I know that there's compassion in his voice when he asks how I am.
"I believe you," I say quietly. "I just know, from my own limited experience, that break ups can be tough."
"Not this one." He raises his ass off the stool he's sitting in to pull it around the table until he's right next to me. "I told you about Maisy because I want to get to know you better. It was the right thing to do."
It's the words a decent guy would say when he's trying to forge a new connection. He's almost too good to be true which sends up countless warning flags for me. I'm not risking a thing if I keep it casual though. We can have fun, we can fuck and if he happens to realize he's still madly in love with his ex, I'll walk away knowing I didn't let myself fall for him.
***
"Lean forward, Bridget." His voice is needy and deep.
"Like this," I say as I rest my head against the wall. "God, yes, please."
He's behind me. We're both in my bedroom. After I brought him home with me, we'd kissed on the chair we fucked in that first night. He'd held me on his lap while he tongued and licked my mouth until I was so wet; I had to pull my panties off.
Then he'd stripped his clothes off as I yanked the box of condoms out of my bedside table, spilling them all onto the floor. He'd crouched to scoop one into his hand, with his hard cock dangling between his legs. My
breath had gotten stuck at the sheer beauty of his body.
Once he was sheathed, he'd pushed me face first into the wall. He grabbed hold of my neck when he slid inside of me and now, resting against each other, I know that within moments, he's going to fuck me from behind until I come all over his cock.
"I love fucking you." His teeth skim over the flesh of my shoulder. "Your body is amazing. It's so perfect. You're so tight."
I reach back to try and capture his lips with mine. I'm rewarded with a deep and sensual kiss. His hand pushes down on my groin, angling my body to take more of him.
"My cock fills you up." It's a statement born from the lust we both feel. "I can feel how deep it goes."
"So deep," I try to form the words but I can't be sure they come out as anything that's even remotely audible.
"My body has ached for this." He pushes his hand down farther until his fingers glide over my clit. "I've thought about it constantly."
I push back wanting him to pulse himself into me. I'm close but I know the moment I feel the friction and hear his labored breathing, I'll be lost to the climax.
"Ah, fuck, Bridget." His hands both fall to my hips as he starts his tender assault. "You're too good. It's all too good."
I rest my head against the wall as I moan loudly with each thrust of his heavy, thick cock into my tender core.
***
"Do you want to draw me?" His breath is against my lips.
My eyes dart open to lock on his. He'd carried me to the bed after he'd tied the used condom and tossed it into the wastebasket. After laying me gently on my back, he stretched out, his head resting between my legs, as he tongued me slowly and painfully to an exquisite release.
Now, we're next to one another, each determined to catch our breath. It's nearing morning now, which means he'll leave soon.
"I've never drawn anyone I know before." I reach up to cup his cheek in my palm. I can feel the intimacy that's there floating in the air between us. "I don't know if I could do it."
Ember: Part One Page 4