“Bridget, I need to tell you something,” I start, and her hand snatches away from me as she lifts up and stares at me with a look of horror.
“Oh, God. You’re married. No, you’re —"
“I’m a virgin,” I blurt out, interrupting her. “At least, I was until a few minutes ago.”
Stunned silence fills the room. I swear, all I can hear is my pounding heartbeat as I wait for Bridget to say something.
“Topher…I…” She lets out a small sigh and my stomach drops to my knees. Shit. “I’m shocked. And I truly hope I didn’t pressure you into anything you weren’t ready for.”
I reach for her, desperate to reassure her and take away any misplaced guilt. “God, no. Bridget, this was amazing. I wasn’t saving myself for any particular reason, it just never felt right. Until you. Until now. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, I tried, but then I was just really…reallyinto what we were doing…” I trail off lamely.
Bridget squeezes my hands. “Okay. All I can do is trust you’re being honest right now.” Her eyes widen. “Wait. Please tell me you’re over eighteen, at least.”
I bark out with laughter, “Holy shit, yes, woman. I’m twenty-five.”
“Oh, thank God.” She sags back down with relief. “Taking your virginity is one thing. Taking the virginity of a minor is…” She shudders.
I wrap my arms around her and gently tug her back into my embrace. The chair isn’t the most comfortable, and my ass is starting to stick to the leather, but I don’t fucking care. “So you’re okay with this? With me?”
Her head tips up to look at me, and this time it’shereyes that seem to have trepidation in them.
“Yeah, but I think I should probably tell you something, too.”
“What?”
“I know guys are never meant to answer this, but you have my permission. How old do you think I am, Topher?”
“Seriously?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear before I answer. “I honestly don’t care. You’re older than me, I get that. It doesn’t bother me. You’re beautiful, smart, brave, and sexy as fuck. Age is just a number.”
“Good answer, flower boy.”
Our lips meet once again. Jesus Christ, I can feel my dick hardening for her already. And Bridget must feel it, too, because she moans into my mouth as her hips shift in my lap.
“Okay. Oh my God. We need to find a bed,” she says, breaking away from me with a gasp. “Because you need to do that thing with your finger and your tongue again, soon.”
“Works for me,” I rumble in response.
“My apartment is just down the street.”
We’re dressed in a flash. Bridget picks up her purse and turns to me with a mischievous smile. “There’s something else you should know.”
My brow crinkles in confusion. “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re a spy or an alien, I really don’t think there’s anything you can say that will make me walk away, babe.”
An adorable giggle-snort escapes her. “No, no. Just, I do have a man at home. He’s a bit…sharpsometimes, but overall, a total sweetheart, I promise.”
“Umm.”
Bridget bursts out laughing. “It’s a hedgehog, Topher. I have a pet hedgehog. His name is Winston.”
“Fucking hell, woman,” I exhale. “I don’t care about your pet.”
She’s still giggling as we turn out the light and walk hand in hand to the elevator.
“Good.”
