Page 40 of Bridesmaid By Chance
Foolish jealousy rips through me because that’s not something I want to hear. I don’t want to know that she’s been pleasured by another man. I don’t want to even know she’s been with other men.
“His name was Devin,” she continues. “He had the smallest curve in his penis, and he knew how to use that curve to his advantage.”
“I don’t need the details,” I say as I sink down into the pillow as well.
“I thought we were sharing.” She turns toward me. “Want to tell me the best sex you’ve ever had?”
“No.”
“Seems a bit harsh. I think a wife should know something like that.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Because I think it’s nice to know that my husband has been pleasured. I mean, what if you’ve never had an orgasm?”
I turn toward her and give her a look. “I came in the shower this morning.”
Her eyes widen as a small smile passes over her lips. “Oh my God, Hudson, I came in my bed before I got in the shower. Look at us doing the hard work on our own. Coming buddies.” She pushes at my shoulder, and I hate myself.
I hate everything about this.
Why? Why did I make this choice? I’m a smart man. I’ve been able to navigate life well up until this point, so why now? Why am I making decisions that are putting me in actual physical pain?
Some might say I’m a masochist.
Others might assume I’ve had a small crush on this girl the moment I met her and now I’m fulfilling a fantasy I have no right to even consider.
“So is that going to be part of your morning routine? A good stroke and scrub? Because if so, just let me know. I can be downstairs while you take care of business.”
“I don’t plan on doing anything like that while you’re here,” I answer.
“Oh God, is that going to be a rule? I sure as hell hope not because there is no way I’ll last. Which reminds me, do you have any vibrators? If I have one of those, thirty seconds and I’ll be good.”
I press my fingers to my brow and say, “Can we just not right now?”
“I can sense this is painful for you. That’s fine. We can come back to the topic when you’re feeling a little more comfortable.” She quiets, and I let out a deep breath because sleep—that’s what I need. I need sleep. “Can I just say how magical our first kiss was? A total inspiration for romances to come.”
I groan and turn away from her.
“I’m sorry. When I’m nervous I tend to talk a lot.” She’s quiet for a moment and then adds, “Did you mean to kiss my nose or was that a spur-of-the-moment thing? Bet it was the first nose kiss the reverend ever saw at a wedding. Should have told him it’s how I like it to really sell the connection.”
“You can stop talking.”
“Sorry. This is just weird, and I don’t do weird well.” She pauses. “But, I mean, are we nose kissers? I need to know because I’m going to need you to bend farther down if that’s the case. I’ll kiss your nose, but I’m not kissing your nostril.”
“Good night, Sloane.”
“So…is that a yes on the nose kissing?”
“It’s ago the fuck to sleep.”
“Sheesh,” she says as she turns on the bed. “Wasn’t aware you were a grump outside of work too.”
And I wasn’t aware I married a smart-mouthed chatterbox with the finest fucking ass I’ve ever seen. But here we are.
Chapter Seven
HUDSON
