Chapter Forty
Maggie
I’d taken longer than I would have preferred to write back Bridgette. With the end of the school year coming, things have been crazy, and I didn’t know how to respond, honestly. We were talking about what we were planning to do now that it was officially summer. Almost one year exactly from the time our parents got married. God, how has it already been a year? And yet, it’s been the longest year of my life.
Bridgette made a comment in her last letter about us getting a place for the summer together. She doesn’t want to be under her father’s roof any more than I want to be under my mother’s. With Asher’s official ‘decree’ of sorts, Bridgette is no longer engaged to Thomas, or at least, Harry can’t enforce it now, and we are both looking for alternative living situations. I didn’t know how to tell her that sounds like the best and the worst idea. There is a reason our main method of communication lately has been letters. I don’t trust myself around her. Even in the courtyard, it took everything in me not to pull her around the corner, wrap my arms around her, and worship every inch of her body. When I’m around her but can’t touch her, it physically hurts. But, if I distract myself enough, spend the whole day with Maryia and we miraculously avoid a drag out fight over stupid shit, I almost can temper the want.
Almost.
Fuck. I’m really delaying the inevitable, aren’t I? Maryia and I aren’t going anywhere, even now that we technically could without fear of repercussions. The fact of the matter is, I don’t love her. I never have, and I don’t see myself ever being able to. Bridgette aside, we just don’t fit. The sex is good, and she’s a sweet girl, most of the time, but all the other times? The jealousy and the snooping and the insecurities? We don’t…fit.
Of course, I think all of these big depressive thoughts in the middle of my best friend’s commitment ceremony. Despite being married to Asher, she never had a proper wedding. The guys really spared no expense despite it being a last minute thing. All five men are lined up and facing Sky with megawatt smiles on their faces, even Griggs.
I look behind me to see Maryia watching them with a dreamy smile. I’m the maid of honor, and Sky was nice enough to make Maryia a bridesmaid. It was, again, a huge ordeal, and while Skyla was trying on wedding dresses, Maryia began complaining that she wanted to stand up beside me. It was honestly so embarrassing, but my best friend, being the kind and graceful woman she is, welcomed Maryia with open arms.
My eyes have a mind of their own as they wander out to the crowd. Everyone is here, at least everyone that Skyla and the guys like, or can tolerate, that is. There is only one person I’m interested in looking at, though. She came in a soft blue silk dress with accentuating ruched lines, hugging every single soft curve she has to offer.
Goddamn, that is most definitely her color. Against her black hair and matching her eyes, she looks breathtaking. A hell of a lot better than I look, that’s for sure. It could be worse. I could have been forced to wear pink. Sky nixed the black bridesmaid dress I pulled out, saying it reminded her too much of funerals. That topic was fresh, so I waved my white flag and told her to pick whatever she wanted me in. She settled on a rich gold color. It’s okay, just not my usual style is all. Then again, dresses period, aren’t my usual style.
Bridgette’s eyes snap to mine in an instant, like she was waiting for me to look at her. I give her a soft smile and she gives me one in return.
I took longer than I wanted to send my next letter to Bridgette, but before I came to the church today, I slipped it under her door. I’m not sure if she got it before she left or maybe she’ll come home to it. It wasn’t a long letter; it was actually extremely short. Just one word.
Yes.
I recognize it’s a terrible idea. I understand I will no doubt be tempted more than a few times, but the way I see it, it’s economical, good for our mental health, and it might be nice to live together. Like having a live-in best friend of sorts. Someone who gets me, someone I know I can get along with well. Someone who?—
Snapping out of my thoughts, I see Ronan kiss Sky first before Liam snatches her up. Then Vincent, followed by Asher and Wesley. Damn, with a harem like hers, you have to wonder if the guys begin to feel jealous. There has to be an odd man out, right? Or at least you’d think. Looking at those grinning fools, though, I’d say they look to be just fine and dandy.
The happy group turns and smiles to the cheering crowd as Liam leans into her ear, whispering something to her.
“Better run, Siren,” Vincent says to her.
A look of mischief fills her eyes as she takes off running down the aisle, all five guys chasing after her. They are totally running off to consummate their union. You know what? Good for them. As they should.
The officiant smiles, speaking into the microphone.
“Alright, folks, if everyone can make their way to the grand ballroom, we have drinks and appetizers ready and waiting.”
That’s all it takes for most to hightail it out of there. I laugh to myself as Maryia grumbles under her breath.
“Seriously? We were supposed to take group photos now. They are throwing the entire schedule off to go have an orgy.”
I’m shocked as I turn to face Maryia.
“Well, I mean, it’s their wedding. They can do whatever they want.”
“And be inconsiderate to those who went out of their way for them?” she throws back.
I blink because, honestly, my flabber is gasted. How on earth is she able to make this about her right now? This is my best friend’s wedding day. If she wants to get every hole stuffed, some of them double stuffed, that’s her prerogative.
The few lingering people are beginning to stare, and I make quick work of ushering us off to the hallway. When we are finally out of range from others, I lose my shit.
“Okay, please tell me you’re just joking.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean, you can’t be this selfish! This narcissistic? This day is not about you, Maryia. Not everything in the whole goddamn world is about you!”
Her mouth drops open. “I’m sorry if I find it disrespectful for someone to not stick to an agreed upon schedule!”
“You should be sorry! This is their day, not yours. Your job is to smile, support the bride and shut the fuck up!” I snap.
She looks stunned for a moment before she shakes her head.
“You want me to shut the fuck up, Maggie? Fine. Done. I’m out of here.”
Her heels click against the marble floors as she makes her way to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Wherever you aren’t! You think I’m such a terrible person, that I’m making it all about me? No problem, issue removed. I’m gone.”
“Holy fucking shit! You are a child!” I shout as I follow her. “Just take some goddamn responsibility for once in your life and admit that you’re being an asshole.”
“No!” she shouts. “You’re the asshole. I don’t need this. I deserve better.”
She shoves through the door, letting it slam behind her as she does. My blood is fucking boiling. I pace back and forth aggressively before feeling the need to scream. My eyes scramble around the hallway before I find the coat check closet. Barging in, I cover my mouth with my hands as I let out a deep, guttural scream. I scream until my throat goes hoarse, until I can’t anymore. I scream until every ounce of frustration is spent.
Fuck her. I’m glad she’s leaving. She was going to ruin today one way or another, might as well get it out of the way.
When I open my eyes, I’m shocked to see that I’m not alone in here. Bridgette is staring at me with wide eyes and parted lips.
“Are you okay?” she asks gently.
“I’m fine!” I snap a little too harshly before I close my eyes, blow out a breath, and try again. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I just needed a moment.”
Bridgette nods but doesn’t say anything, which I appreciate because I just need a few more seconds to collect myself. When I feel better, I nod to myself and look at her again. I notice a glass of champagne in her hand. She’s staring at it longingly before her eyes come to mine.
“I haven’t drank it. I’m not going to, I was just…”
“Thinking about it?” I hedge.
Shame washes over her face as she nods. I’m not one to judge, and I won’t start now, but Bridgette has done so well. She’s been working on her sobriety and her mental health has improved in the wake of it. I’d hate to see that go down the drain. In fact, I won’t allow it.
Carefully, I grab the glass from her. She doesn’t fight me, doesn’t resist. Just lets me take it as I bend down, setting it on the ground against the wall.
“Why are you in the closet?” I ask as I stand up.
She frowns. “Is that like a gay joke?”
A choked laugh comes out of nowhere, ripping through my throat.
“No, but it’s a missed opportunity.”
She gives me a small smile, like she was trying to make me laugh before she answers.
“I just needed a moment to…breathe.”
“Same,” I say with a nod.
“I heard.” She grimaces.
Of course, she did. I’m sure the whole goddamn wedding heard. Shaking my head, I blow out another heavy breath.
“I don’t know what to do with her, I just…fuck.”
Bridgette pulls me in for a hug, comfortingly rubbing my back as I tuck my chin into her neck and return her embrace. It’s strange at first. I haven’t hugged her in so long. Physical contact with her has been virtually nonexistent, for good reason. As if my body recognizes her instantly, it practically hums to life, my fingertips tingling as they wrap around her. I feel her body react as well, or maybe it’s just her mind. Either way, when I pull back slightly, I see her baby blue eyes drowning with lust.
“I won’t make the first move again, Maggie. You’ll have to come to me,” she whispers.
My own words being echoed back all this time later shakes something loose inside me. Something I’ve tried to repress. Something I’ve tried to convince myself wasn’t nearly as special or magical as I remember. I know now that I was full of fucking shit.
I know I swore this would never happen again. The guilt was killing me for so long. I convinced myself I didn’t need to feel guilty anymore because it wouldn’t happen again. Ask me why I’m centimeters from Bridgette’s mouth, though, and I don’t feel a damn thing but want.
A slight bump is all that’s needed to initiate, and as soon as I feel her silky lips against mine, we’re both goners. Our hands are everywhere, mouths everywhere. I need her more than I need my next fucking breath. She hikes her dress up as I hike my own. My entire body is vibrating and I literally don’t know where to start.
“Lay down. Rub your pussy against mine,” Bridgette gasps between kisses.
My pussy pulses at her words as my fingers tangle into the back of her hair.
“Ask me nicely,” I say as I yank her hair gently.
“What?” she gasps.
“Beg mommy to grind her pussy against yours, baby B,” I murmur against her lips.
She shudders in my arms as she lets out a whimper.
“Please mommy. I want to feel you.”
“That’s my good girl.” I smirk before we both lay down on the floor.
I know coat closets have a reputation for being small and dark. For some reason, though, this one is at least five feet wide and twelve feet deep with several recessed lights above. Plenty of light to see Bridgette’s pretty bald cunt as she slips off her panties and spreads her legs. Fuck. My mouth waters as my pussy soaks my panties.
Slipping my own off, I toss them to the side before slipping my legs through hers. Pulling down the top of my dress, I begin pinching and tweaking my nipples when our pussy lips touch. We’re both soaked, and we slip against each other at first, pulling moans out of us both.
“Holy shit!” she gasps as she grinds into me again and again. “Oh my god. Maggie.”
“Yeah, baby? You missed this?”
“So much,” she whimpers, thrusting against me, grinding against my clit in the process.
“Have you played with any women since me, baby B? Let any women scissor fuck you like this?” I rasp.
She shakes her head. “Of course not. It’s only you, Mags. It’s always you.”
“Right answer,” I moan as I hump and thrust against her.
Her silky smooth body is like butter against me, and I feel my orgasm steadily building.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter.
“I’m gonna come,” Bridgette moans.
“Good. Come for me, baby B. Come for mommy.”
“Shit, that’s hot,” she gasps. “Oh fuck, oh fuck! Mommy!” she cries out as her thrusts become stuttered.
I fall right over the edge with her, grinding my clit against her as quickly as I can, milking every second of pleasure that I can out of this moment.
When that post orgasm bliss begins to fade, I wait for the guilt to set in like last time. It doesn’t come, though. Maybe because deep down, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and I’m done turning my back on it.
Gently, I untangle my legs from hers before sitting up on my knees. My tits are still out of my dress and Bridgette reaches out, cupping one of them before flicking her thumb against it. A needy moan escapes me and she smirks.
“You going to let me play with these next?”
“Soon. First, we’re going to go out there and enjoy my best friend’s wedding.”
“And then?” she asks, desperation thick in her voice.
“Then I’m taking you home and fucking you until we’re both raw.”
“Do we have to wait?” she says with a sarcastic huff.
I smirk, pushing her knees back and popping that pussy out more for me. Leaning down, I stick my tongue out, taking one long lick of her release before coming to her mouth. I slip my tongue against hers and she groans as we fight for dominance. Pulling away roughly, I rest my forehead against hers.
“Just one more taste,” I say, like I’m bargaining with myself before I dive back between her legs.
Bridgette wraps her thighs around my head, digging her hand into my hair as she grinds herself against me, and I savor her like the delicacy she is, not stopping until she comes all over my face.