Page 12 of The Wedding Season
I go back to the table to get my purse and phone and order the car. I look around for Laurie. She is, of course, on the dance floor, as she should be. I take a goofy selfie, waving at the camera, and text her a goodbye and congrats message. I see Braddock on the dance floor, handing Sam and Maya drinks. He then wipes his damp hands on his pants and walks back into the mansion. He looks happy, he’s in party-mode.
I follow him. Because I am going to bitch-slap him with words. I will not leave here until he truly understands how big of a shit I think heis.
When I get inside I see him walking into the men’s room. Of course. Boy’s club. Not gonna let that stop me from giving him a piece of my mind. I stand right outside the door and I wait, with my arms crossed over my chest, one foot tapping. I’m a cartoon impatient angry woman with steam coming out of herears.
Iwait.
And Iwait.
And Iwait.
What on earth is he doing in there? Leave it to him to kill my anger buzz. Just when I start to walk away, he opens the door. He stops in his tracks when he sees me, holding the door open. I stomp back towardshim.
“You,” Isay.
He just stares atme.
“You…” I am not sure what is supposed to come after that. “I…You…” I reach my arm out and point athim.
He takes my hand, pulls me into the bathroom and shuts the door, pushing me up against it, holding my arms up by my wrists. He puts his mouth on me, coaxes my lips open with his tongue, taking my mouth hostage. I bite his lower lip and yank my wrists from his grasp. His head jerks back. I don’t move away. His eyes are onfire.
I feel his hands on my hips and his leg between my legs. His hands slide up the sides of me and back down to my hips. He leans in and stares at my mouth, waiting for me to respond, daring me, and finally I grab his face and pull him down towards me and kiss him. I think I’m saying “I hate you I hate you” but maybe not with actual words. More like with moans. He is a good kisser, his lips are soft and warm and he knows what he’s doing with histongue.
I realize my hands are now on his ass, and one of his hands is massaging my breast while the other is lifting up the bottom of my dress, and I reach for his crotch—I can’t stop myself, and oh golly he is a handful. I make a squeaky sound, jump up and wrap my legs around his waist and he holds my ass and presses up into me. I feel that erection that’s bulging against the front of his pants, and he’s ecstatically big, and my panties are soaked through and my lady parts are feverishly trying to engulf his growing hard-on through two layers offabric.
He grinds against me rhythmically, boldly but not in a frenzy. He has no problem showing that he wants me, but he is in control of this situation. His hands are supporting me while exploring me. He kisses me so deeply and intimately, it’s startling. I can’t catch my breath and I don’t even realize that I should be breathing. It’s like his tongue is the only thing that’s keeping me alive right now. The energy of it is generous and life-giving and I feel myself giving in completely, forgetting who he is, who I am, wantingmore.
He is so passionate. It feels like his body is telling me so many secret things, but my heart is beating so loudly I can barely hear anything—I can barely hear the knocking on the other side of the door, or feel that the door is pushing in against myback.
And suddenly, his lips pull away frommine.
“Hang on asecond!”
He pushes against the door with one hand, still holding me up with the other. He stares straight into my eyes, his teeth clenched. He groans, quietly, shaking his head. I slowly return to the world, remember where we are and who we are, and I’m somewhat relieved to be free of the grip he had on me. I lower my feet to the ground. He keeps his hands on me until I am able to stand properly, still looking deep into my eyes. I hold his gaze. He puts his hand on my face and tilts his head down to kiss me again, but I duck out of the way, hiss “don’t you dare tell anyone about this,” and yank open thedoor.
I don’t even see who was waiting to get into the bathroom. I straighten myself up as I run away, away from that mouth and those hands and those rocking hips. It feels like there’s a lagoon in my underpants, but I cackle to myself like a madwoman when I think of the massive boner that Scott Braddock is going to have to subdue before walking out of that roomtonight.
Hah!
Takethat, Braddock’spenis!
Iwin!
Cut to:Me staring out the window of the Lyft car, alternately touching my fingers to my lips and squeezing my eyes shut while shaking my head, trying to concentrate on my best friend who is going on and on about how great it was to hang out with an actual nice guy for a change—how comfortable she felt with him and how straightforward and polite hewas.
When asked if she will see him again, Maya shrugs and says: “Maybe. I haven’t decidedyet.”
Maya asks me a question, but I do not respond, because there is a much louder, more important question that is echoing through my head:DidIwin?
Slow fade to black as I wonder if he’s thinking about me right now, or if that’s the kind of thing he always does in bathrooms atweddings.
Chapter 5
*Scott*
FADEIN:
INT. MEN’S BATHROOM, GREYSTONE MANOR –NIGHT
