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SEVENTEEN
Bren
We tucker out Sofia, and she sleeps through the better part of the morning. I watch her sleep, in awe of how angelic she looks despite knowing what a sex goddess she can turn into under the cover of night. I kiss her temple, and her eyes flutter open.
“Good morning,” I say and offer her the best smile I am capable of, though it is a small one.
She, on the other hand, smiles wide as she stretches her arms above her. She turns to the other side of the bed, and my heart sinks a little, knowing she’s looking for the other man who put her to bed last night. My stomach gets hot, like I want to vomit, at seeing her disappointment when she turns back to me. “He’s gone,” I say.
“Oh.” She purses her lips thoughtfully.
“Do you wish he were still here?” I ask and beg any gods—old and new—that her answer be ‘no.’
She thinks for a moment and puts me out of my misery when she shakes her head. “No. I just wish I had gotten to say goodbye. That’s all.”
My eyes close with relief, and the tension in my forehead dissipates. “I kicked him out right after you fell asleep,” I admit. “I couldn’t share you a second longer without pummeling his pretty face into the pavement.”
“Oh, Bren,” Sofia says, her gaze alert as she studies my face. Her hand drifts to my cheek, where she rests it reassuringly. “We shouldn’t have done...er, what we did, if you didn’t want to. I’m so sorry. I thought you were all for it.”
I smile at her, turn my head to kiss the inside of her palm, and then return her hand to where it was before.
How could I tell her that I wanted last night as much as I hated it? My desire to please her—to give her anything and everything she wants—won over my urge to kick my best friend’s ass for daring to look at her, let alone touch her.
Then there was that moment when Sofia winked at Finn before jumping in the pool, and I understood deep in my soul that Sofia is a free agent, and me trying to tame her into the idea of what I once thought I wanted in a woman would only dim her light. I’ll die before I actively participate in snuffing out the best parts of her—the parts that drew me to her to begin with. How could I ask her to change everything in her I am attracted to?
If she has to be with other people to be happy, then I’d rather be there as an active participant, sharing in her pleasure, than let someone else steal it from under me.
“I wanted to do it,Schatz. For you. I wanted to make you happy. Did I?”
“Oh, Bren. You stupid, stupid man,” she says, the words coming out honeyed despite their meaning. “Eres un tonto. I’m happy with just the two of us.”
I smile at her, finding sincerity in her eyes. “I know. But I want to give you the world, and I started last night. Anything you ever want. It’s yours. Just tell me.”
“It was amazing,” she says. “And no, before you ask, I don’t need that again. I wanted to experience it once, but now that I have, the curiosity is gone.”
I pray she believes what she is saying to me. While I don’t revel in the idea of sharing her again, I will do it every night of my life if that is what she needs.
As our eyes lock, I understand an undeniable truth. I now live for Sofia, for her smiles, her happiness, and her pleasure. I am a slave to this woman, and I happily put on my own shackles, giving her the key to throw away at her discretion.
She tries to move and winces a bit. “Are you okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Just a little sore,” she says.
“How about a bath?” I ask.
“That would be amazing.”
When I stand to pick her up in my arms, she smacks my shoulder playfully.
“I can walk to the bathtub, Bren.”
I kiss her temple. “I know,Schatz,” I say and carry her to the bathroom.
After running the water in the oversized stone tub for two, I get in first and motion for her to join me. She smirks at me and gets in slowly as she adjusts to the temperature.
When the water engulfs her breasts, she reaches over to shut it off, returning to rest her back on my chest.
She moans in my arms. “I’d kill for a tub like this at home,” she says.
