Page 51 of Body Check
Bridgette smiles and sets down a little bag I hadn’t realized she was holding. Hmmm…is she planning on staying over? Because that’s a plan I could get on board with. She trails a finger down the center of my bare chest. “There are other ways you can watch my ass. You do know that, right?”
“I had no idea,” I deadpan. And yes, my voice sounds exactly the same as it always does. “Please, tell me all about the ways I can watch your ass jiggle.”
Her smile is still in place, but her cheeks are bright and her eyes are wide. I can't tell if she’s nervous or excited. Maybe both?
“Well, I’m not sure what your plans are tonight, but?—”
“I thought we covered this already. Ass. Jiggling. Tits, too. All of you,” I say, smoothing my hands over the fabric of her coat and settling them at her waist.
She’s fiddling with the buttons on her coat now, and I’m ready for her to take it off so there’s one less layer between us. “It’s amazing how in sync we are. Because the last twenty-four hours have been…stressful, you know? And I was thinking about what we could do to unwind and relax. And you seemed to like the dance hall, right?”
I nod because I did like the dance hall, but mostly because I liked watching her in her element. I do not feel like being social tonight, or putting a shirt on, but I will if that’s what she wants. “Yeah, you want to go? Are they open?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But maybe we could stay in?” Bridgette asks, biting her lip.
This is a trick question. It has to be. She literally just mentioned that the dance hall is a good place to unwind, but now she wants to stay in? I feel like I’m in a maze that’s also a minefield. I’m not big on finesse, so I just say what’s in my head. “Which one do you want? I’m fine with either, but if we go out, I have to put a shirt on,” I say, spreading my hands to demonstrate what I’ll be covering. “So don’t get all pissed because you can’t ogle me. And speaking of,” I say, tugging at the sleeves of her soft coat, “if we stay in, you’re probably going to want to take this off. I know for a fact that Fallon made Ollie turn the heat on.”
Bridgette takes a step away from me as she wraps her hands protectively around her body, like she’s holding the coat in place. “I want to dance,” she tells me, “but not at the dance hall. I wantto stay here. I’ve been thinking about this since the first time I was up here.”
“Okay,” I say, still clueless about where this is going. “Should I put on some music? Move some furniture?”
“You should lie down on your bed,” she says. “Blue’s not home, is he?”
“No,” I answer, shaking my head and setting my laptop on my desk before I sprawl out on my bed. I’m not sure what Bridgette’s up to, but I do as I’m told. “He won’t be back for an hour or so.”
“That should work,” she says, but instead of snuggling up next to me and flipping through the channels until we can find one of those dance competitions or some shit, she just stands in the middle of the room, still wearing her coat. She’s acting kinda weird, but we’ve had a stressful twenty-four hours.
“Did I ever tell you the biggest reason I moved to Bainbridge?” she asks.
“To be closer to your brother?” I guess.
“Yes, but also to be farther away from my mom. And my aunt Patti and cousin, Jocelyn. Family is supposed to take care of each other, at least, that’s what movies teach us, right? And my parents never neglected us or anything like that, but when my mom found out that one of her twins was a little girl, she was picturing a mini-me, someone average height and slender. Instead, she has a daughter who’s nearly six feet tall and weighs at least twice what she does.”
I’m frowning now because first off, I feel like I punched the wrong Mikalski. Okay, I wouldn’t actually punch Bridgette’s mother, but still. Everything JT said this afternoon is starting to make sense.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I tell her. “Now take that damn coat off and come cuddle with me. We can watch a movie and make out.”
Bridgtte blushes, but shakes her head. “The terrible trio always said they wanted what was best for me, but that inevitably involved fad diets and drinking protein shakes for two meals a day. A couple Christmases ago, they got me a gym membership. I asked for suede knee-high boots.”
What the hell is wrong with her family? “That’s fucked up,” I blurt. “Did you sell the membership and buy the boots? And do you still have the boots? Would you like to wear them for me sometime? Just the boots, nothing else.”
She doesn’t crack a smile; she just keeps on talking. “I kept the membership and went three times a week. But instead of hitting the weights or doing water aerobics, I took a dance class. Well, a pole-dancing class.”
As my brain processes her words, I watch her strut over to the pole that’s a few feet in front of my bedroom door. From my place on the bed, I have a perfect view of Bridgette as she runs her hand up and down the metal rod and then reaches for the belt of her coat. She unties and unbuttons it slowly, dropping one shoulder and then the other.
Holy fucking hell.
Pale blue lace does its best to contain her breasts, but it’s an impossible job. Her matching see-through panties are just as pretty, the way they stretch across her lower belly, hips, and ass. Her creamy skin is on display, and I’m fucking here for it.
A minute later, her coat is in a puddle on the floor, and it can stay there. I can’t tear my gaze away from my girlfriend as she winds her body on the pole. Watching her in action on the dance floor was incredible, but this is fucking art.
It’s also fucking hot.
“So what do you think, Dutton? Should I dance here? For you?”
I’ve lost the ability to speak, so I nod enthusiastically.
“I’m just going to find the right playlist,” she says, fiddling with her phone.
