Her gaze darts to me guiltily, and before she can stop herself, she starts laughing. And then I lose it too. Actual tears are streaming down her face. She’s hiccupping between laughs, shoulders shaking as she tries and fails to get herself under control. Meanwhile, I’m flat on my stomach with my face buried in a pillow, the entire bed shaking beneath me because I’m laughing so hard.
Maybe it’s the exhaustion from this whole day. Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of the situation. Or maybe it’s the fact that Bri looks so adorably mortified by getting caught watching herchoice of entertainment. Whatever the reason, neither of us can stop.
Every time I think I’ve got myself under control, I glance at her and see her red cheeks, watery eyes, and horrified expression, and I’m gone all over again.
“Stop, Seth!” she’s practically wheezing now from trying to keep it together but she’s smiling.
I wipe at my eyes and try to catch my breath. When I look at her this time, I swear all the air leaves this cold room. Even high on energy drinks and sugar, after driving all night, looking embarrassed as hell over being caught watching porn, she’s still the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.
A gorgeous, porn-loving goddess.
“What… what is this?” I manage to ask between gasps of air, gesturing to the TV because whatever porn it is, it looks like it was shot on the first Nokia phone. The guy’s mid-thrust while the woman is thrashing back and forth on the bed. She’s either an amazing actress or that cock piercing might be a wise investment.
Brianna punches at her phone again, and this time, she gets the video to pause. She lets out a soft breath of relief, but now the whole video is frozen with the horse cock front and center mid-thrust inside the woman.
“It’s the Wellingtons.” She laughs softly.
“The who?”
She stands and crosses to the bed. Then she drops down beside me with a soft thud, flopping onto her back. An instant later, she throws an arm over her face like she’s actively trying to disappear from the world.
“The Wellingtons. They’re a couple. It’s married people porn,” she mutters under her breath, her arms covering her eyes like she can’t bear to look me in the eye.
“They have porn… with people role-playing that they’re married?”
“No.” She groans, voice muffled by her arm. “They’rereallymarried. It’s married people… who do porn. Together as a couple. With only each other.”
I glance back at the frozen screen where Mr. Horse Cock and Mrs. Loves-A-Good-Purple-Dildo are still stuck mid-action.
“These two are married in real life?”
Bri nods but I still can’t see her face. “This is their real life. They do porn together. I watch it. I like it. It’s…”
She doesn’t have to finish her sentence. Brianna finds this romantic.
I pause, letting that sink in. For a woman who’s never been married, she’s got a fascination with long-term commitment and couples who fuck like they’re still on their honeymoon.
I reach over, gently lifting her arm away from her face, and fuck me she’s so pretty it hurts to look at. Her eyes are sealed shut. Her lips are pushed out in a pout. Her little nose is turned up and sniffling like she doesn’t want to talk about this with me.
“Bri, look at me.” Her dark lashes flutter open, and her pretty green eyes gaze up at me, soft and vulnerable. She took off her glasses from driving earlier. I wonder if she can still see me. It wouldn’t take much. We’re both in the bed. I’m so close. One lean down. One kiss. I could sweep my tongue into her mouth and get a taste of her again. Of what I’ve been missing.
Having her in my house, around my daughter, and at my workplace training the guys I work with; while knowing I can’ttouch her again, feels like a special kind of torture. Because I like her. A lot. Everything I learn about her just makes me like her more.
And I want her. I’m so tired of pushing her away.
My hand moves to her cheek, and I brush my thumb slowly along her skin, down over her chin and across her bottom lip. She doesn’t break eye contact. Just watches me as I take her in, my gaze tracing every soft detail of her face. She knows I want her. She wants me too.
“Fifteen years,” she whispers.
I raise a brow. “Fifteen years what?”
“They’ve been in a married and committed relationship for fifteen years. Been doing porn together for five of them.”
Her voice cracks just a little, and I swear to God—there’s a tear in her eyes as she talks about them like they’re people that she knows personally.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” she asks.
Ah, shit.
