Page 22 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
wyatt
I lookat my watch again, wondering how long I need to stay at this thing before I can bail without appearing rude. Or listen to Amy prattle on about whatever she’s prattling on about? I tuned her out a while ago. She could tell me next week’s winning lottery numbers, and I’d miss it. I’m not one to school my expression, so I’m sure my face is a picture of disinterest. She doesn’t get the hint, in true Amy fashion, and just keeps talking.
Doesn’t she have a husband to talk to?
Taylor made a point to pop her head in to tell us how happy she is that everyone is mingling. That bought this party my presence for another twenty minutes or so. But time’s almost up. I’d rather be stuck in a stalled elevator car filled with kids trying to sell me candy and magazine subscriptions with Barry Manilow Muzak on repeat in the background than spend another twenty minutes here.
“Just go with it, please,” Bristol whispers in my ear, startling me. She follows it up with a kiss on my cheek. Her lips are soft and pillowy; her touch stays with me long after it ends.
“Hey, babe.” She slides her arm around my waist. “I missed you and wondered where—” She stops, her body tenses beside me.
I wrap her in a one-arm embrace and kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale her shampoo's sweet fruit and vanilla-like scent. And then, I go with it.
“Hey, sweetheart.” My tone is low and intimate.
Her body is stiff. I run my hand along her side until she relaxes a bit.
Amy’s eyes bug. “You two are…together?” Her face scrunches like she smells something bad. I’d almost forgotten the animosity between Amy and Bristol. I’ve only seen it once, but that was enough. I don’t know if they’ve seen each other since.
Bristol still hasn’t said anything. She looks a little shell-shocked.
So, I take over.
And go all in.
“Yeah. For a while now. It’s pretty serious.” I look down at Bristol. She’s still staring at Amy like she can’t quite believe the woman is real.
She is. Twenty minutes of my life is lost forever because of it.
Amy’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t seem together at dinner.”
“Really?” I cock my head. “Not even when I pulled her outside for a quickie in the bathroom?”
Bristol’s fingers dig into my waist.
Does that mean she likes that idea?
Yeah, me too, sweetheart.
I file that away for future use, just in case.
“I didn’t take you for a minute man, Wyatt,” Amy sneers.
“Oh, he’s not,” Bristol speaks up, going right into character. “That was just for me. I was a little tense with my brother becoming a father, plus getting married and all.” She glances up at me, then back at Amy. “He knows all the best ways to relax me.” She interlocks her fingers with mine at her waist and stage whispers, “The man has got magic hands.”
I don’t bother to hold in my chuckle. “I think you magically relaxed twice. Right baby?” I ask.
She looks up at me and smiles, dazzling me for a moment. “Three times.”
“Mmm, that’s right.” I smile back and bend to kiss her, taking full advantage of our temporary roles to see what it would feel like in reality. I don’t realize how much I’ve wanted to until after it’s over.
The kiss was too soft and too fleeting, I want more. I need to try it again.
So, I do. Longer this time.
She whimpers when I pull away—whether for effect or in reality, I’m not sure. Either way, the sound goes straight to my cock, begging for attention.
“Did I just see what I think I saw?” Some guy joins us, slack-jawed at the kiss Bristol and I shared. “Has someone snared the ever-elusive Bristol Moore? Why didn’t you tell me, B?”
