Dear Bridget, I Want You(17)

“Turn around for a minute.”

She was skeptical. “What are you gonna do?”

“Check what day of the week’s knickers you’re wearing. What do you think?”

“What are you really going to do?” She laughed.

I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s get some of those knots out of your neck and back.”

I felt her tension lift as soon as my hands went to work. Massaging her upper back, I pressed my thumbs especially hard into her. She hung her head low as she relaxed her body, giving me full control. The sounds she was making were driving me a bit mad. This woman was wound up and needed a hell of a lot more than my hands. It took everything in me not to bend down and devour her neck. My fingers were definitely working on behalf of my cock that unfortunately couldn’t be here to accept this award tonight.

Her breathing became a bit more labored at one point and she turned around, stopping the massage. “Thank you for that. I should get that wine now.”

“Let me help.”

“No, I got it.”

I returned to the living room and sat down on the couch, noticing something under me. It was Bridget’s e-reader. I opened it to the home page, which showed a romance novel featuring a salacious cover. Clicking on it, I could never have imagined the words that would meet my eyes.

Holy shit.

What’s this now?





Oh no.

When I returned to the living room with two glasses of Zinfandel, Simon was nose deep in my Kindle reading my book.

“Simon, stop.”

“You’ve been holding out on me, Bridget. This is the stuff in your books?”

Feeling the heat rise in my face, I said, “What did you think was in my books?”

“I figured it was some Fabio shit, you know, woman blushes, follows the guy to the bedroom, he makes love to her. This chap has his cock between her tits, and he just shot his load on her face.”

“He did?”

“Oh, that’s right. I read past your bookmark. I guess you hadn’t gotten there yet.”

“Apparently not.”

“Let me back up and read it to you, then.”

The expression on my face must have looked like a mixture of terror and amusement. At least, that was how I felt. “Simon…”

“Come on. I promise. I’ll be serious. We can have Storytime with Simon. Sit back with your wine and I’ll read to you.”

Oh my God. He was serious.

I had to admit, though. The thought of listening to him reciting the sex scenes for me in that accent was too enticing to pass up. So, against my better judgment, I did as he said, took my glass of wine, sat down, leaned my head back and just listened.

“Let’s see now. Looks like your bookmark begins right here.” Simon cleared his throat dramatically. “Ahem” And then began…

“His fingers dug deep into my tense shoulder muscles.”

Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten that I’d left off in my book at a point where the hero was about to give the heroine a massage. Just like Simon had done to me not two minutes ago. “This isn’t a good idea.” I began to jump up from the couch, but Simon caught me. He hooked one arm around my waist and pulled me back down. Only now we were sitting much closer on the couch. Our thighs were touching, and the warmth from his body transmitted to my leg and shot down to an interesting place.

“Rubbish. You set me up with a boney-ass, wanna-be kitten. Now I’m going to get some action tonight, even if it has to come from your e-reader.”

I smirked. “Her ass was kind of boney, wasn’t it?”

“Did you even inquire if she was a starfish?”

I giggled. “No.”

“Alright, then. You owe me. And as payback, I’m going to read this little hot scene and then when we’re done, I’ll go back to my place and enjoy a good wank, and you’ll do whatever it is that you do.”

“A good wank?” I questioned.

“Masturbate. You know…” Simon formed a C with one hand and pumped it back and forth, simulating a hand job. “Jerk the gerk. Choke the chicken. Pump the stump. Do the five knuckle shuffle. Flog the lizard. Burp the worm. Charm the snake…whatever you Americans call it these days.”

If I had any common sense, I probably should have been offended that my tenant was suggesting that he read me the dirty parts of my book and then we go our separate ways and masturbate. But…it did sound sort of appealing. God knows I was tense. Simon smirked. “You’re in. I can read it all over your face. You won’t deprive me this simple pleasure after the catastrophe of my date.”

“Fine,” I huffed trying to sound like it was a sacrifice.