Beautiful Bitch(4)
Everything about Chloe had always been impeccable, stylish, current. But her apartment could not be farther from that description. The living room was tidy, but full of worn furniture and things that didn’t look like anything she would own. Everything was brown and tan; the couches looked comfortable but like they were made out of the same material as a stuffed animal. A small collection of wooden owls was clustered on a shelf near a tiny television and, in the kitchen, the clock that she’d glanced at had a big smiling bumblebee on the face with the words “Bee Happy!” in garish bubble letters.
“This . . . is not what I expected.”
Chloe followed my attention around the apartment and then let a loud laugh burst free. It was the same laugh she used to let out before she would verbally eviscerate me. “What would you have expected, Mr. Ryan?”
I shrugged, not wanting to insult her but feeling sincerely curious about this disconnect. “I just expected your place to look a little more like you.”
“What, you don’t like my owls?” she asked, grinning.
“I do, yes, they just—” I started, running a nervous hand into my hair.
“And these couches?” she interrupted. “Don’t you think we could have fun on them?”
“Baby, we could have fun on any surface in this place, I’m just saying I expected your place to be less . . .”
Fuck. Why was I still talking? I looked over at her and she had a hand over her mouth, laughing silently.
“Calm down,” she said. “This was my mom’s apartment. I love it, but you’re right. None of this stuff is mine. When I was in school it just didn’t make sense for me to sell it, or to get new things.”
I took another curious glance around. “You could buy yourself hundred-dollar panties but you didn’t want a new couch?”
“Don’t be such a snob. I didn’t need a new couch. And I frequently needed new panties,” she said quietly, meaningfully.
“Hell yes you did.”
With this perfect reminder, I stepped close to her, resuming my gentle attack on her line of buttons. Pushing her shirt over her shoulders and down her arms, I stared at where she stood in front of me, in only a red lace bra and matching underwear. They were tiny.
“Tell me what you want,” I said, feeling a little desperate as I pushed her hair behind her shoulder so I could suck on her neck, her jaw, her ear. “My cock? My mouth? My hands? Christ, I’m doing it all tonight but where does one start? I haven’t seen you in months and feel like I’m losing my mind.”
I reached for her arm, urging her closer. “Baby, put your hands on me.”
She ran her hands up my neck and cupped my face. I could feel her shaking. “Bennett.”
Only when she said my name like this—like she was shy and maybe even anxious—did I remember she said she had something to tell me other than I love you. Something I wouldn’t like.
“What is it?”
Her eyes were enormous, searching mine and full of apology. “I just finished my defense, and—”
“Oh, shit. I’m such an ass. I should take you to dinner or—”
“—and I promised Julia and Sara that we would go out—”
“—maybe we could get some dinner after I make you come—” I barreled on.
“—for drinks after my presentation—”
“I just need to hear you come once and then we can go. Just give me . . .” I stopped, finally letting her words settle in. “Wait, what? You’re going out with Julia and Sara? Tonight?”
She nodded, eyes tight. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I can’t tell you how much I want to call and cancel. But the thing is, I can’t. Not after how good they’ve been to me the last few months . . . when you and I were . . .”
I groaned, pressing the heel of my hands to my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I got you naked? Holy shit, how am I supposed to let you go now? I’m going to be hard for hours.”
“I tried to tell you.” To her credit, she looked as frustrated as I felt.
“Do we have time to . . .” I shook my head, looking around as if the answer were buried somewhere in this ancient furniture. “I could probably get us both off in, like, two minutes.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure that’s something to brag about.”
The hell it wasn’t.