Chapter 11
Bridget
It was another few days of Victoria not looking at me until, one morning, out of the blue, I found her not cleaning up from her own breakfast but sitting on the floor in the living room with the coffee table drawer removed, the one that had been stuck, and she was using a pair of pliers to fix what looked like a warped track for the drawer.
She took a long breath and looked at me, and she smiled in a way that made my insides tangle, that kind of breath-stealingly sweet smile I hadn’t seen on her since Saturday.
“Good morning,” she said. “I got the orange scones you liked before. I thought you could use them after your run-in with my family.”
“Um… hi.” I think I’d slipped and fallen into another timeline. “When did you do that?”
“I was up early this morning, so I figured I’d just go do it while the thought was on my mind. They’re in the kitchen, and I can join you to have some in one minute. If you like. If you’d prefer I stuck to trying to fix this drawer, then I can stay here instead.”
I stared for a minute longer before I knelt on the rug next to her. She had music on again, that soft jazz we both liked, and with the low lights and the smell of orange and cinnamon, it felt impossibly blissful. I felt like this was a trap. “You’re… fixing my furniture.”
“You’d mentioned this thing had been stuck for a long time and you just stopped using the drawer, right?
” She held up the track, unscrewed from inside.
“The culprit is right here. I took it out and I’ve been working on getting it straight again.
It’s almost done. What exactly did you do to bang it up so badly? ”
I’d put too much of my weight on the drawer while it was open for a position I was fucking myself in. “No idea,” I said. “Maybe sabotaged by the enemies of the regime.”
She laughed. “Well, you now have an amateur engineer on your side, so, lucky for you and for your despotic overlords.”
“Why are you fixing my drawer?”
She sighed, her demeanor flipping like a switch, and she dropped the pliers and the track onto the rug, putting a hand to her head.
“Because,” she said, her voice making it clear she’d practiced saying this, “I want to make it clear I know I was wrong. I wanted to apologize for my demeanor over the past few days.”
I let out a whoosh of air, and a nervous laugh, as I settled down on the rug with her. “I’m not looking for an apology,” I said. “I’ve just been worried about you. All I’m looking for is to know whether you’re okay. And if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“I’m… perfectly fine. It’s my own issues brought about by my own deeds.”
“Okay, Sartre, very poignant. Do you want to elaborate?”
She sighed, looking down at where she fussed with the things on the floor. “I apologize for… overstepping and ignoring your very clear implications that you want privacy. But I, er, well… found out what exactly your work is.”
“Oh—” I felt my stomach drop through the floor, hands cold, as I swallowed hard.
“Oh,” I said again. “Oh, okay.” How much had she looked at?
She wouldn’t have had to look far to know that I’d masturbated in every room of this apartment.
Including hers. “Um… do we have, like, an issue now?” I said, trying to sound casual.
She winced. I think we had an issue. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with, er… that…”
God, even when she was trying to let me down easy, she was just so pretty and so perfect, it ached.
“If you don’t want to live with me anymore and you’re weirded out by it, I mean, that’s fair.
I probably should have been upfront.” Oh, god, did she see how much I’d been posting things about sexy office girls since she’d moved in with me?
If she had any idea how many times I’d fantasized about her…
“No, that’s not the problem,” she said, voice strained, a hand to her forehead.
“What… what is?” I already knew the answer, it was that she knew I’d been making content lately as an outlet for how badly I wanted to fuck her, like a creep, like I was no different from her asshole of a boss who wanted to take advantage of—
“The problem is that I masturbated to your video and now I can’t look you in the eye,” she blurted, slapping my train of thought clear off the tracks and leaving me staring.
Victoria blushed violently, covering her face, as she kept her gaze focused on the floor.
“I know I shouldn’t have,” she said, rambling now, “but I couldn’t get it out of my head and I’ve been…
well, I guess I’ve been out of it so long and—I grew up with very puritanical views on these things, and so it was something I didn’t have the mental tools how to handle, and it was…
I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I thought…
I don’t know what I thought,” she mumbled, her voice trailing off.
“I don’t know what to say right now. Do you want me to just leave? ”
Victoria Jameson had gotten off watching me. Holy shit. I was suddenly unbearably turned on, and I’d just gotten myself off half an hour ago. Thinking of her… in that room, watching a video of me, touching herself… holy shit. “Which video?”
She gave me a desperate look. “Which video?”
“If you, uh, don’t mind sharing. You know, I just love… analytics.” I squirmed a little. I’d never been this horny in my life. She looked mortified, horrified, and she put a hand to her forehead, looking away.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Are you going to tell me, or what?”
“The… it was the…” She put both hands over her face. “The one in the… kitchen.”
“Which one?”
“There’s multiple?”
“Uh. Let’s hypothetically say there might be.” My breath was short, tingling all over my body.
“The most… recent one you had… posted.”
I bit my lip hard. “That’s the… I’ve been waiting so long for you to get home—”
“Fuck, don’t say it,” she groaned, turning sharply away, covering her face more. This was the hottest experience of my life. If I died right now, I’d have no complaints. I leaned a little closer, heat bubbling between my thighs, a smile on my face.
“You like that, then, huh?” I teased. “Into the idea of someone waiting for you while you’re at work…”
“Bridget,” she said, sharp with alarm, voice urgent, wide eyes. Was she turned on? Was Victoria turned on? From me flirting with her? Holy shit.
“I’m not mad at you,” I laughed. “I put things online so people can enjoy it. My best friends all read and listen to and watch my stuff too. And I do the same for them. You can watch as many as you want to.”
She stopped, clearly not even daring to breathe, looking at me through wide eyes. “Are… are you… sure? I mean, you didn’t want me to find out—”
“I didn’t know if you’d be weird about it.” Oh my fucking god, I wanted her so badly right now. “But we’re here now, so you could watch them, talk to me about them, anything you want to.”
“I…”
I bit my lip, heart pounding as I ventured, “I mean, if you wanted, we could, um… we could recreate that one.”
“Recreate—” Her voice caught.
“It’s Wednesday. I know the days don’t mean anything when you’re freelancing like you are right now, but I know you like to maintain a work schedule anyway.
” I pushed my luck, put my hand on her arm, caressing down it, and I felt like I lost my mind when she jolted and leaned into it, muscles in her neck tightening.
She was genuinely into this. I was going to die.
“So maybe you can go out to a coffee shop or something, work until five, and come home to… me.”
Her pupils dilated, and she mouthed a silent fuck before she managed, in an awkward half-laugh, “You’d… want… to do that?”
I would worship every inch of her perfect body this instant if it was what she wanted.
“I…” I started, not sure how to take it from here.
“Listen, you probably know at this point how horny I am all the time. But I’ve been so deprived lately because I’m trying to be respectful and not be a creepy sex pest like your boss was, but I’m so attracted to you that I haven’t been able to get off thinking about anything but you.
In fact, I just got off thinking about you like half an hour ago, because I was trying to focus on something else but I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me when we were having breakfast on Saturday. ”
“You—you did,” she said, eyes wide, looking me over. I probably could have come just from her looking at me like that. My legs spread without me trying to.
“Mm. It was incredible. So, um… thanks for… keeping me company? Even though you weren’t there to, you know, literally keep me company. Like, physically.”
She blushed harder, biting her lip. “Did you… um…”
“I promise you I’ve fielded weirder questions than whatever you’re about to ask.”
She swallowed, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you use a… a toy?”
If she was curious, I could show her the world. I felt a stirring in my thighs as I nodded. “Do you want to see what I used?”
She pressed her thighs together. “I… I do.”
I wanted so badly right now to take her to my room, show her the grip vibrator I’d used, show her how to use it, and then eat her out while it was inside her.
I was already making a mess in my underwear thinking about it.
But I bit my lip and I smiled impossibly wide, and I said, “I’ll show you, then. After work today.”
“Fuck—Bridget,” she said, voice desperate, her chest heaving.
“Unless you don’t like that?”
She wrung her hands. “I won’t get any work done.”
“Me neither.”
She hesitated, a shy look on her face, shrinking into herself. “I shouldn’t be… like this…”
“Says who?” I put my hand on her thigh, and when she gasped and opened her legs, I almost lost my composure. I wanted to kiss her so badly, it hurt. “I’m like this all the time.”
“Mm… it’s just… I’m—I’m not looking to date or be serious or…”
Well, even miracles had limits. I wouldn’t make a very good girlfriend anyway. “That’s okay,” I said. “Don’t have to be serious with someone to have a good time with them.”
“Mm… my god…” She closed her eyes, head slumping over one shoulder, and I couldn’t believe how perfect it was hearing her breath quicken, blush creeping down her neck. I caressed my hand higher up her thigh before I took it off.
“This is okay?” I said, my voice softer, more genuine now. “I really, really want to do this, I just… I know you only just got out of a situation where…”
“That was different. I cannot tell you how different that was. This is… I want this.”
I bit my lip. “Then let’s make sure you have some good breakfast before work today, baby,” I said, making sure to use the same term I’d used in that video, and it was obvious how well it worked, her legs jolting together and squeezing.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re going to make me wait that long.”
“Been making me wait this long, when you could have told me about this earlier!” I stood up, and she stood with me, her legs shaky, and when I offered her my hand, she took it, slow to let go when she stood up.
“So can you… um… tell me about your life now? Now that you don’t have to be… discreet with your… nonpublic works, was it?”
I laughed. “Guess I can tell you what my friends do now.”