AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That’s another deranged thought. Another thought I need to tame.
“Plenty of fuel for the podcast then,” he says gruffly.
He says nothing, gliding through the city as I work myself up to the question. I know I shouldn’t ask it, just as I knew every time I wrote our names and enclosed them in hearts, or I sneaked downstairs to peer through a crack in the door when he was hanging out with Adam.
My throat feels dry and tight. Somehow, I produce the words.
“What about you? Do you have anybody?”
He doesn’t answer for several seconds. His lips go tight as he glances at me. “No. I have nobody.”
“Why?” I ask.
He laughs gruffly. “That’s a complicated question.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Maybe I do,” he says.
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
He’s sensitive about the subject and pauses before he answers. It makes me think hedoeshave somebody, but it’s uncomfortable for him to discuss.
I think about a Hollywood-beautiful woman on the West Coast. Maybe she’s married, like Eva was married.
That’s Tiffany’s idea getting into my head again. Do I really think Bryson would be capable of that?
He doesn’t respond, and soon we’re sitting outside my apartment building.
“Well, thanks for the ride,” I say, reaching for the door.
The handle sticks.
I pull it again, blushing like he’s going to judge me for not being able to open a door right away.
“Damn rental,” Bryson says.
He reaches across me, so close I could touch him.
I freeze as his face comes close to mine, his hand passing inches from my thighs. My body is buzzing all over, my sex aching, and my panties feeling super sensitive suddenly.
Opening the door, he leans away, but not before his hand rests on my thigh.
Rests on my thigh?
It didn’t happen on its own. He put it there.
He turns and looks at me, his face inches from mine, his hot breath tickling my face.
His eyes widen, as though he’s shocked at himself.
I can’t help but make a soft whimpering noise as he tightens his grip, the sensation writhing up and down my thigh, teasing at my sex. He squeezes even harder, causing me to moan again.
With a jolt, he returns to his seat.
He smiles at me like a family friend would, making me wonder if I imagined it, his hand on my leg, the intensity in his eyes.
“Good luck with the podcast,” he says with superficial friendliness.
