Page 109 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Drenched,” I say.
“Good,” he responds and then releases my hands. “Then try on the dresses.”
And with that he leaves the dressing room, leaving me horny and extremely frustrated.
Well played, Mr. Hopper, you asshole.
If you thought the atmosphere in the car was icy on the way to Harrods, that’s nothing compared to what it is right now.
It is positively arctic.
We have not spoken a word to each other, other than Hudson nodding his approval to outfits he liked on me and me thanking him for the clothes when we checked out—because I do have manners despite how pissed I am.
While they packed up the clothes, he was off in a corner on the phone talking to someone, leaving me sitting there, waiting like some disregarded housewife. Nothing about the interaction at Harrods was what I thought it would be. And I could tell that Lorraine felt bad for me—and awkward—because after Hudson left the room, she was the one in charge of dressing me, despite Hudson saying no one saw me naked besides him. Talk about mixed signals.
I know that entire situation in the dressing room was his way of getting back at me for the drumming, but his felt more malicious.
Perhaps because she felt bad about the disconnect Hudson and I were suffering through, Lorraine slipped a complimentary bottle of perfume into my bag that she told me would make Hudson wild for me. As if I needed the help. I thanked her kindly despite wanting to throw the perfume back at her and tell her I didn’t need it, that the stupid ice-blue lingerie should do the trick.
Guess who won’t be wearing the lingerie though. This girl. That’s right, if he thinks he can control me, he is sorely mistaken.
When we arrive at the hotel, the bellman opens our doors and fishes out the bags from the trunk. Hudson moves to my side, takes me by the hand, and together, we walk into the hotel and straight to the elevator that’s waiting for us. I will say this, money gets you a lot of things, service being one of them. It’s wild to me how many people are willing to be at your beck and call.
As we ride up to our room, Hudson’s hand remains glued to mine, but his attention is on his phone. I understand he has to work, but Jesus, it’s all he ever does.
When the elevator doors part, we head to our room, a trail of bellmen holding bags behind us. Hudson opens the door and lets me in first before the bellmen. I stand there and watch them set the bags on the dining room table before Hudson tips them, they leave, and he shuts the door.
I’m about ready to go off on him when he says, “Get ready. We’re leaving in an hour and forty minutes.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
He peels his eyes off his phone and looks at me. “We have dinner…with Sheridan and Archie. They want to welcome us to London. Wear the black sequin dress. We’re going somewhere nice.”
I work my jaw to the side and cross my arms at my chest. “Anything else, your majesty?”
“No,” he says, dismissing me.
I have never loathed someone so much in my entire life. Like absolutely despise. If I could throw one person to the wolves, it would be my husband. Straight to them, no regrets, please have a meal on me.
Frustrated, I move into the bedroom and head toward the bathroom, where I pause for a moment.
You know what? I’m frustrated because this man is getting me horny as hell and not doing anything about it. It’s about time I take care ofthings. I march into the bathroom, draw myself a bath with some of the lavender bath salts the hotel provided, then slip out of my clothes, walk naked to my nightstand, and grab my vibrator from where I noticed the staff placed it when they unpacked.
Already feeling relaxed from the possibility of taking care of things, I walk back into the bathroom, test the water, and slip into the tub. Thankfully, it fills up fast, and the jets help as I settle in and make myself comfortable.
Glad my vibrator is waterproof, I lean my head against the tub, spread my legs, and turn it on. I take a second to run the vibrator over my breasts, making my nipples hard for me to play with before bringing it down my stomach and between my legs, where I rest it right against my clit.
“Fuck,” I draw out as I sink deeper into the water.
Yes, this is what I want; this is what I need.
This release.
“God,” I moan as the vibrator does its work. Always takes me seconds. My body is already warmed up, my nerve endings all pulling toward my stomach. To slow down the process, I slide the vibrator inside and let it vibrate against my inner walls, keeping me excited but never pushing me over the edge as I continue to play with my nipples.
“Fuck, so good,” I whisper as I pull the vibrator out and bring it back to my clit. “Fuck, yes,” I say, my voice carrying through the bathroom. Was that too loud?
Then again…
