Claimed Darker by Em Brown
Chapter 12
BRIDGET
Past
It’s hard to say no to Darren. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am a sex fiend. Part of me thinks I should spend a little more time away from him, just to get my bearings. But my first night at the other side of his club has me curious and even eager to experience more, though I’m a little afraid.
“It’s so hard to be back,” Amy laments as she unpacks her suitcase.
“I know,” I commiserate from where I sit on my bed with a textbook on my lap. “Phuket was so beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever have an experience like that again. What did you and JD do after Darren and I left?”
“Well, I wanted to do some more shopping. We hung out at the pool a lot.”
“Were there a lot of wedding guests still there?”
“About a third. His creepy aunt was among them—the one who hit on Darren.”
“I remember her.”
JD’s aunt wasn’t the only woman hitting on Darren, I recall.
“I used to think that rich people being snotty was a stereotype,” Amy sighs. “But it turns out the stereotype is true.”
“Well, we didn’t get to know everyone there. I don’t think our sample size was large enough for us to draw any statistically significant conclusions.”
“That is such a nerdy thing to say,” Amy laughs.
“I liked Darren’s mom.”
“JD’s family was nice to me. I want them to like me a lot because it would be so amazing if JD and I were to get married someday.”
Remembering the feedback I got from Felipe, I say, “You really dig him that much?”
“Hell yeah. What’s not to dig about JD? He’s super cute, he’s fun, he’s successful, he has great taste in everything.”
“And you think he’s the marrying type?”
“Why not?”
“He strikes me as the kind of guy who likes to have fun.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Guys who like to have a lot of fun might think a relationship is boring.”
“Well, I like to have fun, too, so we’ll have fun together.”
I chew on the top of my pen. “Does he ever talk about his past girlfriends.”
“No. Why would he?”
“Just curious.”
“I don’t want to know what other bitches he might have slept with. Besides, he wouldn’t have taken me to his sister’s wedding all the way in Thailand if he didn’t have feelings for me.”
“I don’t know if guys think about the significance of stuff like that, being that they don’t think a lot, period,” I joke.
“I got to meet his family. Guys don’t like having women meet their families unless it’s serious.”
I chew harder on my pen. I don’t want to rain too much on Amy’s parade her first night back. I watch her unpack her carbon monoxide detector.
“I packed the darn and didn’t even plug it in once in Phuket,” Amy remarks as she puts it in the wall. “My mom gets fixated on the smallest things. She keeps reminding me to get batteries as a backup for the detector.”
My phone’s message alert pings, and I look over to see two texts from Darren:
There in ten minutes.
No underwear.
I hop off the bed. “I should get ready.”
“For what?” Amy asks.
“Darren’s picking me up.”
“I suggested to JD that we hang out at the club tonight because my body is so wired. It’s, like, middle of the day in Phuket. But JD says he didn’t sleep well on the plane, so he’s going to pop some melatonin and crash.”
Amy pulls out her toiletry bag and goes to put it in the bathroom.
Going commando is not my preferred state of dress, but it’s not the biggest deal either. I decide on jeans and a knit sweater top. I have the option of my infamous chunky sweater or my hooded sweatshirt to keep me extra warm. Maybe I can just skip the outer layer since I’m getting a lift into the city.
“Simone says I missed your fried chicken,” Amy tells me when she’s back in the bedroom.
“We saved some for you.”
After running the brush through my hair a few times, I grab my chunky sweater and drape it over my arm.
“Say ‘hi’ to Darren,” Amy says before I go.
Darren is double-parked outside the building.
“Hey,” I greet him as I get in his car.
“You get my last text?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
Though his car windows are tinted, I look around anyway. Seeing no one nearby, I unzip my jeans. It’s hard to show much when I’m sitting. He reaches a hand down my pants. My body warms almost immediately, and I wonder that I will ever get tired of his touch.
“Good,” he says, then opens the arm console and takes out a velvet pouch. “Put that in.”
I pull from the pouch something egg-shaped and purple. “This goes inside me?”
“There’s lube in the console if you need it.”
“So we’re jumping right into this,” I comment. “No ‘how was your day’ first?”
“We can talk after the vibrator’s inside.”
After applying the lubricant, I manage to cram my hand into my jeans and press the vibrator into me. Darren’s gaze is on me the whole time.
“Now what?” I ask.
“You can zip up,” he replies, fishing out a remote control from the console.
As soon as I button my jeans, he presses the remote control. I jump at the vibrations. Setting down the controller, he takes the gear out of park and pulls the vehicle from the curb.
“How was your day?” he asks.
Too focused on what’s going on inside my vagina, I don’t answer. Part of me wants to squirm away from the sensations, but there’s nowhere to go because the damn thing is inside me.
“Let’s try this setting,” he muses aloud, picking up the controller.
The low, constant vibrations turn into waves that come and go. I don’t like the roller coaster effect as much.
“Or this one.”
The vibrations turn into sharp bursts. I grip the leather seat as well as the arm rest on the door.
“You didn’t say how your day was,” Darren says.
I don’t remember what I did today, so I murmur, “Fine.”
“Just ‘fine?’”
I don’t really want to talk anymore. I want to get over the awkwardness of feeling like my body’s a tuning fork.
Darren lets it be and drives in silence. I let out a breath. Now that I’m getting adjusted, the arousal starts to build.
“Ready to take it up notch?” he asks.
Before I can answer “no,” the vibrations increase. I tighten my grip on the car and manage to glare at him.
He smirks. “Rhetorical question.”
Although my body wants to writhe like crazy, I remain as still as possible so I don’t get any surprise sensations.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
My whole lower body is engulfed, and even my clit feels like it’s vibrating.
“Can I come?” I ask.
“Please.”
“Please?”
He turns off the vibrator. “Yes.”
I search for enough pieces of my arousal to put together an orgasm, but I can’t. “You turned it off,” I explain.
“Yeah. Try to come anyway.”
I’ve heard that some women can come just with their thoughts, but I don’t think I’m one of those lucky few. My body is definitely primed, though. Closing my eyes, I try to cultivate the nascent climax to return. I squeeze down on the vibrator multiple times, but it’s like trying to pull at a wave of water.
“I can’t,” I sigh.
I wait for him to return the vibrations, but he doesn’t.
“You’re not going to turn it back on?” I prompt.
“I will, just not now. What else did you want to talk about?”
I growl in discontent. My body still feels on edge. It really wants to climax to release all the built-up tension.
“When do you hear back about that grant proposal you were drafting on the plane?” Darren asks.
“Three to four weeks,” I mumble.
“What’s it for again?”
“Refrigerated vans. It’s our food recycling program.”
“You plan to do more of that kind of stuff after you graduate?”
“Possibly. When are you going to turn the vibrating egg thing back on?”
Darren chuckles.
“Let me guess: you like the sadism part best in BDSM?” I accuse, questioning the wisdom of being with a guy who has a sadistic streak.
“I like the power play.”
I pat the car. “Getting this penis extension wasn’t enough?”
“Power is a turn-on. It explains why beautiful young women are willing to sleep with ugly-ass politicians old enough to be their grandfathers.”
I don’t disagree. “You don’t need power for women to sleep with you.”
“I like what I like. But I wouldn’t be doing it if you didn’t like it, too.”
“I don’t like not being able to come after getting all worked up.”
“Edging gives you a more intense orgasm. You like that.”
“And it happens to be fun for you.”
He smiles. “So?”
“So you are sadistic.”
His gaze, dark and heated, meets mine. “More than you know, Bridge.”
