Page 4 of Bridesmaid Undercover
I quietly shut the door and start dressing.
My dick that was once feeling phenomenal is now on a watchlist for murder. The broken dream of another round with Everly fills me with such deep sorrow that I feel it all the way to the tips of my goddamn toes.
I don’t even bother to check out my disappointed expression in the mirror as I quickly slip on my clothes—I know what it looks like.
Depressed.
Deprived.
Defeated.
I stick my phone in my back pocket, run my hand through my hair, and then on a depleted sigh, I exit the bathroom, just in time to see Everly sit up from the bed and stretch her arms over her head, showing off her beautiful beard burn-covered chest.
Fuck.
Me.
When she sees me out of the corner of her eye, she quickly scrambles for the sheets to cover herself up.
Babe, I sucked on your tits last night, several times, so no need to cover up.
“Oh…hi,” she says cutely as she wets her lips, taking me in with her eyes.
I itch the back of my head as I mentally tell myself to stay away. “Hey,” I say, my voice coming out all scratchy.
“Are you, uh…leaving?”
I thumb toward the door and say, “Yeah, was going to take off.”
“Oh, sure, yeah.” She worries at her lower lip.
“Have an early start to the day,” I add.
“Of course. Work, work, work,” she says awkwardly.
“Yup, got to love that work.”
“So much work,” she says.
“All the work,” I mumble.
Any other ways we can say work? Because I’m here for the sweat-inducing conversation.
She glances at the sheets, silence falling between us before she says, “Yeah.” When she lifts her eyes to me, vulnerability laces through them. “I, uh, hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Fuck, she’s second-guessing herself, and that’s the last thing I want her to do when she was the best sex of my goddamn life.
“No, you didn’t,” I say. “It was…last night was…phenomenal. Really fucking great.”
I catch the blush in her cheeks. “Yeah, it was.”
“The best,” I say.
“Easily,” she replies.
“Like, my world is different now.” Her brows lift, and I feel like I’ve said too much. Time to shift gears. I take a step toward the door. “Well, I should be going.”
Her expression falls. “You don’t, uh…you don’t want any coffee or anything?”
