Chapter 2-2
896 Words
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I spent the rest of the day and evening working. Although I worked for myself, it also meant that my hours weren't the typical eight-to-five, Monday-through-Friday schedule. That was especially true during wedding season, usually from April through October.
As it was now early March, I was in the thick of confirming details for my first weddings of the busy season. It also meant that I planned bachelorette parties for the bride, went dress shopping with her, and also provided a buffer between her and her family if necessary.
When I'd first researched starting my business, I hadn't even known that bridesmaids-for-hire were a thing. But the more I researched, the more it made sense to me. Bridesmaids, and especially maids of honor, shouldered a ton of responsibility.
Where once upon a time being a bridesmaid just meant wearing an ugly dress and walking down the aisle, now it meant coordinating multiday bachelorette trips. Some coordinated a wedding shower—or three!—for the bride. You paid for your dress, your shoes, your hair, your makeup.
You supported the bride through all the complicated emotions that came up regarding weddings. And then brides who expected their friends to lose weight so that the whole bridal party had a—in their words—a cohesive look?
It was no wonder some brides preferred to hire a bridesmaid to fulfill that role than to subject their friends or family to it. Thus, that was how I'd realized I could fill a niche where I was the one telling everybody else what to do. Besides the bride, that is.
After sending the last email of the night, I took a glass of wine with me to bed as I started reading a new romance novel I'd just bought. The wine was soon forgotten, however, as I found myself sucked into the story.
Well, maybe not the story so much as the s*x scenes. This author knew how to write some five-star smut. I was practically fanning myself before I'd even reached page twenty-five.
"Lord, I need to get laid," I muttered to myself as I pushed the blankets off. I then glanced at my window, which was open, and considered. It was a warm night, but leaving it open meant I'd have to be very, very quiet.
I finally got up, shut the window, and pulled down the blinds. I might be horny, but I wasn't indecent. Besides, the last thing I needed was some rando on the street to hear my giant-ass vibrator humming at full speed.
I pulled out my Hitachi wand, an absurdly large vibrator that you literally had to plug into the wall, and kept reading. My p***y tingled as I read, the scene where the hero had the heroine over his lap, s******g her at the same time he pushed a butt plug into her ass.
I pressed the vibrator against my clit, my toes curling as I closed my eyes. I imagined myself as the heroine, writhing on that lap, feeling the pressure of the butt plug at the same time his rough fingers rubbed my clit—
My eyes flew open when I realized the man I was picturing was none other than Rowan Caldwell. I could see that arrogant smirk on his handsome face; I could even imagine his cheeks slightly flushed as he rubbed me harder and harder.
I could feel my o****m building deep inside my pelvis. When I imagined Rowan s******g me the moment before I was about to come, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.
I never said you could come yet, I could hear him saying. Bad girls come without asking.
I begged under my breath, fantasy and reality colliding together dangerously. I felt the quick sting of his hand against my ass at the same time I lifted the vibrator away from my clit before I came for real.
I felt him spread my ass cheeks, pressing on the plug as he simultaneously began fondling my p***y again. When he began to rub my clit—the vibrator now pressed firmly against me—I started to shudder within moments.
Ask me, he said in my mind. Beg for it.
"Please," I whispered. "Please, Rowan."
He smiled. And then I came so hard that I had to bury my face into my pillow to muffle my scream.
It took me a while to come back to earth. By the time I'd put away my vibrator, reopened my window to let in the cool air, I felt the weight of reality crash down on me.
"Oh, God," I said, covering my face. "Did I seriously just do that?"
I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. Now, I'd certainly fantasized about plenty of men while getting off, but the fact that Rowan Caldwell was still so forefront in my mind? That wasn't good. In fact, it was very, very bad.
You're not going to see him again anyway, I reassured myself after I'd turned off my bedside lamp. So it doesn't matter. And it's not like you'd ever tell Melanie about this, right?
I shuddered, but this time, not with pleasure. No, Melanie would never know. I'd go to the grave before I'd admit to her that I'd come thinking about her terrible ex-boyfriend.
- Writer
