Page 85 of Mr. Swoony

She places her water bottle on the table after she’s done taking a drink. “I never felt comfortable like this. Like I could just be myself without fear of judgment.” She shrugs. “The world he was born into isn’t easy. I’m pretty sure you’re judged from the moment you come out of the womb. I saw it in my dad. It would come out in little ways. If my dad picked me up from my mom’s, he’d drop little comments like how my mom couldn’t braid my hair properly, or that the dress I was wearing wouldn’t do, so he’d stop and buy me one on the way to wherever we were going. I once overhead my grandma telling someone at their country club I was deciding between Stanford and Yale.” She laughs. “I was never getting into an Ivy League school.”

“Lots of pressure to conform, to not detour from the norm.” I understand a little of what she’s saying.

“Exactly.” She pauses. “From the time we got together, I constantly second-guessed what I wore, my makeup, and would go over the conversations I had with his family and friends in my head for days afterward.”

Now that I can’t imagine.

“But with you…” She shakes her head and looks at me as though she can hardly believe it. “It’s like I’ve known you forever. You take the good and the bad that comes with me.”

I fiddle with the bottom button of my shirt, watching my fingers. “I battled with whether I could really be feeling what I thought I was when we first met because of the instant connection I felt with you. I was worried it was lust, or like you worried that maybe it was just because you were something I couldn’t have. But I think you just nailed it. It’s the familiarity. The instant I sat down next to you in that VIP lounge, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“So, you wouldn’t have helped some other random girl get her friend to her hotel room?” She raises her eyebrows, and I undo a button on the shirt.

“I was desperate to stay with you, but didn’t know what the hell I expected. Then we talked and…”

“You figured out I wasn’t the happiest?”

I nod, shame sweeping in. “I’m really sorry.” I undo another button, and she doesn’t stop me, so I continue on. Will this thirst for her ever be quenched?

“For what?”

I look into her eyes. “For stopping your wedding. I was an asshole for doing that. And then the fight…”

She brings her hands to my face and stares into my eyes. “It’s in the past.”

“But still, your family…”

“You met my mom, she was relieved. She never wanted me with Tristan anyway. And the only people who care is everyone on my dad’s side. My mom’s side has never liked my dad’s side and vice versa.” She kisses me quickly and pulls away too soon. “What you did is kind of romantic in a way.”

“That’s what my drunken self thought when the idea came to me, then the chipmunks spurred me on, but still, I had this whole vision of me running through the doors, and it would be like it is in the movies…you’d turn to me and run down the aisle into my arms. The fight and you running off after wasn’t part of my vision.”

She giggles and kisses me again, but I place my hand on the back of her head to keep her there. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and she grinds her heat on my hardening dick. Fuck, she’s everything I didn’t know I needed.

Minutes later, she closes the kiss. “How about a bath?”

“You all slippery and wet? I’m game.” I grip the tails of my shirt, inching up and holding each side tightly. “But first you need to be naked.” I tug and pull, the shirt bursting open and buttons flying all over the room, pinging off the tables and floor.

“Show-off.” She shakes her head with a coy smile.

“I always wanted to do that.” I wrap her arms around my neck. “Hold on tight.” Standing, I hold her to my chest, her nipples poking my pecs.

“Oh, I like this.” She kisses my cheek first, then her mouth finds my earlobe, and she nibbles.

“If I make it through this bath without my cock inside you, I should get a goddamn prize.”

She giggles, her laughter like music to my fucking ears. “I love it when you talk like that.”

“How?”

“Like you can’t get enough of me. Like every time you see me, you want me.”

I walk us into the bathroom, place her on the counter, and start the water in the bath. “I do.”

Once the water is warm, I add the stopper and go back over to Eloise while we wait for the water to fill the tub. Fifteen minutes later, we’re both in the tub, her back to my chest, my arms wrapped around her.

“Can I ask you something?” She leans her head on my shoulder and turns her head to face mine. She looks unsure.

“Anything.” I want her to know she can always ask or talk to me about anything.

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