Hungry for More (2012) (15 page)

Bridget’s eyes flew open and fixed on the top of Paul’s head. His face was currently blocked from view as he dabbed his lips against her belly and breasts. It took a moment for her to register what she was seeing- and then for her memories to return. They flooded back, and her breath caught. “Paul?”

A rich, deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, and then her lover lifted his head. The sight of him- hair tousled, brown eyes wide and soft from sleep- made her tingle all over again. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said in a husky whisper- and then kissed his way back up to her face.

Bridget flushed, doubting very much that “Sleeping Beauty” was an appropriate name. She could only imagine what a mess she was. She hadn’t even taken off her makeup last night- and she needed to shave her legs. She was so damn
fat
.

Horrified, she tried to squirm away, but Paul held her body pinned in place.

“
Don’t,”
he said, a little roughly.

Bridget blinked, not comprehending.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Paul explained, his voice more gentle than it had been before. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingertips, “and you’re
wrong
. You look
perfect
,” he assured her. Then he sealed his words with a heavy kiss.

Bridget was shy, but not too shy to reciprocate. Her tongue slipped between his lips, and it wasn’t long before their bodies were both hot and aching to join. Paul slipped his hands under her bottom, forcing her up against his arousal, threatening to take her again until they were both interrupted by the ugly blare of an alarm.

Paul swore under his breath, and then rolled away from Bridget, flopping onto his back. He swung his hand onto the nightstand, slamming it down on top of the clock to silence the buzzer.

“What is it?” she asked, after a moment of silence. “Do you have to go in to work?”

Paul took a moment to consider before he responded. “I
should
go in to work…but…”

Bridget rolled over and rested her chin on her hands. She cocked her head to the side in question. “But?”

“But…” Paul rolled toward her, reaching out for her again. He couldn’t stop touching her face. “But…maybe I’d rather stay here and make you breakfast in bed?”

“I’m not hungry!” she answered automatically, but Paul shook his head.

“Nonsense!” he told her. “You didn’t get any dinner last night…Besides…I want you to keep up your strength.”

“Oh
really
?” Bridget giggled.

“Yes,
really
,” Paul growled, giving in to his desires and stealing another kiss.  “So?  What will it be?  Pancakes?  Waffles?  Eggs and bacon?” he asked, when he was able to force himself to drag his lips away from Bridget.

Bridget pretended to look thoughtful, and then an impish little smile crossed her lips. 

“Do you know what I’d
really
like for breakfast?” she asked innocently.  Paul shook his head, leaning in closer when Bridget beckoned him with her finger.  “You,” she purred, surprised, but delighted, with her own courage.

She didn’t know if Paul was surprised as well, but he certainly acted delighted.  They didn’t manage to leave the bedroom in time for breakfast. Instead Paul ended up fixing them a hearty lunch.  Bridget took a shower while he cooked.

By the time the dish of homemade spaghetti, sauce and meatballs was laid in front of her, she was too ravenously hungry to care much about Paul watching her eat.  Besides, after the things that they had just done together, eating had lost some of its terror.  She was starting to believe that Paul really
did
find her desirable just the way that she was.  It was a revolutionary thought.  She had been intimate with men before without being able to make such a leap.

“You like it?” Paul grinned, dishing himself up a plate.

“
Mmm
hmm!  It’s delicious!” Bridget enthused, although she did try to make herself take smaller, more ladylike bites.  She still managed to polish off her entire plate at an embarrassing speed.

“Would you like a second helping?” Paul asked, smiling.  He truly seemed to
enjoy
the fact that she was eating his cooking.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Bridget shook her head. 

She
could
quite easily have finished off another portion of Paul’s mouth-watering cooking, of course.  In fact, she could probably have managed to gobble up everything that was left over.  Bridget wasn’t even sure if that was because she was so accustomed to eating in binges or because Paul’s cooking was just that good!

She watched Paul as he finished off his own meal, and a different sort of hunger filled her entirely.  She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, at his throat when he swallowed.  He was so handsome, so sexy. She still couldn’t quite believe that he had made love to her… she
wouldn’t
have believed it if her body wasn’t still glowing from his attentions.

“Penny for them?”

Bridget stopped her daydreaming and found
that
Paul was now watching
her
.  An amused, and very masculine, smile was playing on his lips.

Such kissable lips…

Bridget gave her head a little shake.  “Oh, I think my thoughts are worth more than
that
,” she said coyly.

“That good, huh?”  Paul laughed.  It was a rich, throaty sound that made Bridget tingle all over.  “Do you know what
I’m
thinking about?” he asked wolfishly.

“I- I-” The look in Paul’s eyes was making it hard for Bridget to breathe let alone talk!

“Go on,” he murmured, pushing his plate aside before reaching for her.  “Take a guess.”

“Uh…I…” she stammered, wondering if she trusted her interpretation of the dark gleam in his eyes. She couldn’t quite push out the words- and so Paul put her out of her misery. He dragged her forward, into his arms, her soft curves crushing into the lean muscles of his chest. He hadn’t put on his shirt yet, so she could feel his warm, smooth skin against her cheek.

Paul kissed the top of her head and wound his arms around her shoulders. “I’m thinking about you…” he answered. “I’m thinking about how amazing you were last night.”

“Only last night?” she managed in a saucy tone.

His lips were on her forehead, so that she could feel them stretching into a grin. He kissed her again. “This morning, you were
phenomenal…
” he purred, and then tucked a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his own. “I’m almost afraid of what will happen next time.”

“Next time?” Bridget answered, breathless.

Paul’s lips curled into another sultry smile.

“
This
time?” he amended, and then bent his lips to hers.

Bridget melted into his touch, opening to him with an embarrassing eagerness, sighing and bucking against him as he intensified his assault. His hands were burrowing under her T-shirt when they were interrupted by his cellphone.

She knew better than to request that he ignore it. Paul reached for the receiver automatically. He actually blinked as though he was surprised to see it in his hand.

“Who is it?” Bridget asked. Paul squinted at the caller
I
.
D
.

“Work.” He grunted. Then, to her disbelief, he tossed it aside, letting it land on the counter with an ominous crack.

“Paul?”

“I’m going to ignore it,” he said harshly, and then reached up to stroke her hair. His features were scrunched in concentration. She could tell that it was taking him a great deal of effort to stay on task.

“Paul…”

“I said we’d ignore it!” he barked, frightening her with the rage in his tone- but he was instantly contrite. He took a deep breath. “Bridge, I-!”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, “I-!”

Paul’s jaw clenched, and he turned away, putting his forehead against the cabinets- and visibly tensing when the phone began to ring again. This time, it was the landline.

“Paul?”

“They can do without me for one goddamed day,” he hissed, clearly struggling to control his voice. Bridget was frightened by the pent-up rage that she could see simmering beneath his features- although relieved that it wasn’t directed at her.

Bridget licked her lips, “If you need to talk about-”

“I DON’T!” Paul spat, and then forced his eyes shut and took a few steadying breaths before he opened them again. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced when he had regained his composure.

Bridget nodded, “Me too.”

The phone rang again. This time, she had the sense not to mention it.

“Maybe we can go…somewhere,” Paul suggested- his eyes purposefully averted.

She nodded glumly. She was happy about the prospect of spending more time with Paul, but the magic of the morning had been ruined.

It was still raining outside, and Bridget shuddered at the thought of following Paul’s suggestion to go shopping (she might feel comfortable eating around him, but she would rather
die
than let him watch her try on clothes), so they ended up staying in. They curled up on the couch and watched a movie.

Paul had disconnected the phone.

Bridget was pleased to have her time with her new lover uninterrupted- but also confused. It wasn’t like him to
completely
blow off the restaurant. Something was obviously wrong- but he wouldn’t tell her what it was.

“I’m surprised that Tad didn’t call,” Bridget said, frowning at the clock. It was eight o’clock- time for the little boy’s bedtime. “They weren’t leaving for Orlando until tomorrow, right?”

“Er…no,” Paul said- and then swore under his breath when he realized why they hadn’t received a call. He switched his cell back on. There were nearly 20 missed calls. At least five were from Dixie’s house.

“Oh
,
Paul!  You have to phone him back!”

“I know!  I know!” 

Paul was already dialing Dixie’s number, hoping that Tad wasn’t already in bed asleep.  He felt terrible!  It was like he had slipped back into his old habits- forgetting about his son the second that he was out of sight.

He
did
have a lot on his mind at the moment.

But that was no excuse!

A second voice, one that sounded suspiciously like it belonged to Bridget, immediately countered his initial excuse.  It
was
no excuse.  Paul knew that in his heart, but he had just been so distracted by Bridget, he grinned, and with work, his smile vanished. 

Fortunately someone picked up on the other end of the line before Paul could start thinking too much about the restaurant.

“Hello?”

“Hi.  Dixie, is that you?  It’s Paul.  Look, I’m really sorry-”

“Paul, sugar!  Where have you been?  Tad’s been trying to get a hold of you all night!”

Paul winced.  “Yeah, I know, I’m really sorry.  My- ugh- cell phone got turned off somehow.”

“Your house phone’s been ringing off the hook too,” Dixie said, her voice laden with curiosity, concern, and just a hint of disapproval. 

Paul knew that the disapproval was there on Tad’s behalf.  Dixie’s kids were her whole world.  She had a big heart, and a habit of taking other people under her wing, children and adults alike.

“Is Tad still awake?  I wanted to tell him good
night.”

“Sure is, he’s here now.  I’ll put him on.”

“Thanks, Dixie.”

“Daddy?”

Paul smiled when he heard Tad’s voice, and felt a strong tug of something warm and powerful in the center of his chest.

“Hey kid, I’m sorry I missed your calls.  How are you doing?”

“I’m good,
D
addy, but I miss you and Nanny.”

“We miss you too,” Paul assured his son, and while that
was
true, Paul hadn’t exactly let the child
-
free time go to waste.  “But you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.  Uncle Drew is funny.  He’s been telling us stories about when he and you and Uncle Jack and Auntie Molly were little,
D
addy.”

Paul groaned.  “What stories?” he asked, and then figured that he probably didn’t want to know.  It was a small relief when Tad asked a question of his own instead of answering, even if the question itself was something that Paul wanted to avoid thinking about.

“Are you at work?”

“No, I’m at home.  Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to talk to Nanny too, but Auntie Dixie doesn’t have her number,” Tad said sadly.

“Why do you need her number?  She’s right here.  You want me to put her on the phone?”  Tad’s ‘yes’ was instantaneous.  Paul laughed, and tried to ignore the small twinge of jealousy that he felt.  “Okay, I’ll say good
night then.  You have fun tomorrow.  I’ll call you again before bedtime.”