7. Bridget

brIDGET

Couples are flockingto the stage as the band begins to play a cover of some eighties ballad I've heard on the radio while in the car with my dad and have never known the name of.

I watch Edwin and Sonia at the center of the dance floor swaying together, whispering in each other's ears.

It's clear their big day has been everything and more to them. They look more in love than ever. First comes love, then comes marriage, and I wouldn't be surprised if they fulfill the third part of that saying on their honeymoon.

Laney, Mason, and Nate all also head out on the floor, doing their usual sharing dance which would be awkward if it were anyone else. The three of them make it look seamless, the way Mason and Nate share Laney without any competition, without any strangeness.

Then I spy Amelia and my Dad bobbing back and forth.

I laugh into my hand.

Dad has two left feet, but Amelia doesn't care at all. I couldn't have chosen anyone better to love my dad. And me.

I scan the rest of the room, feeling myself wilt. Most of the people who aren't on the floor are families with kids, people in deep conversations, older folks who are blissed just to watch.

No singles. They've all paired up and gone onto the floor, happy for just a night together. And certainly no one walking my way.

However, out of the corner of my eye, I spot Dory. He's leaning against one of the walls, typing on his phone as he's been doing from time to time throughout the reception.

I take a deep breath and down the rest of my lemon drop martini.

Fuck it. I don't want to be someone on the sidelines. I want to dance. And I shouldn't hold back just because Dory is a womanizer.

Stupid Seth got into my head, just like he always does.

So much so I had to get him out some way.

I try to push the thought of Seth away for fear that thinking of him too much will put me on edge again, force me to flee to the bathroom and touch myself until I come again.

Nope. No more of that. Tonight, I'm having fun despite all the crap he's put me through.

Holding my head high, I stride over to Dory.

He senses me coming, lifting his eyes to meet mine. And he smiles.

The smile makes me uneasy. It's not rude but it's not necessarily inviting. It's almost…pitying.

That doesn't stop me. I've had a couple drinks, maybe I'm not reading it right. I smile back and throw a look to the dance floor. "Too busy to dance?"

"Ah, no. I hadn't even realized…" he trails off and holds up his phone. "Distracted."

I tilt my head to the side, hoping it's flirtatious enough he gets the idea and asks me to dance. "Isn't it the middle of the night in England?"

Dory chuckles. "Oh, yes. But some things require immediate attention, don't you think?"

I'm not sure how many emails are more important than a friend's wedding, but that's not why I'm standing in front of him. "Well, if you have just three minutes, there's a power ballad I'd like to dance to, and I don't have a partner."

Dory nods his head toward me with politeness. "If that's your way of asking, I'd be happy to accompany you."

As we walk toward the dance floor, arm in arm, I can't help but dissect every word he's chosen.

Happy? That's not good enough. He should be doing cartwheels to dance with me.

Accompany? That sounds clinical.

I think I might be reading into it until we position ourselves for a spin around the dance floor.

His hand doesn't touch my waist but just above it. And the grip he has on my hand is cool and professional.

Something is different compared to how we were walking down the aisle earlier. His charming chat in my ear, obvious flirtations, thinly veiled double entendre.

Now, he's avoiding eye contact and touching me in a platonic way.

What changed?

"I'm surprised nobody else has snatched you up to dance, Bridget," he says.

Our eyes meet. There's no glow in his. No spark.

"Yes, well, I think they might have thought I already had a partner." I try to close the space between us an inch more.

Dory doesn't allow that, pulls back just as much as I stepped forward, like we are magnets repelling each other. "Yes, I'm sure if it's new for you, people haven't gotten used to you being unattached."

I furrow my brow. "What?"

Dory smiles at me. And it is pity. I can tell because his eyes are sad. "I heard you're newly out of a relationship."

Have I stepped into the Twilight Zone? "Where did you hear that?"

"Doesn't matter, I just, you know, I know what it can be like to want to–" Dory clears his throat, shakes out his curls. "Get over by getting under, you know?"

My eyes widen.

"And while I don't want to assume, based on our rapport…well, I'm flattered to say the least if you were looking for something like that with me, but I find that situations like that always end up complicated, so I'd rather not. For your sake."

Thank god he's still dancing because if he wasn't, I wouldn't be able to move my feet. I'm too dumbstruck to make sense of what's happening. "Someone told you I went through a breakup?"

"Yes. It's nothing to be ashamed of, of course."

Any possibility of an attraction I could've had to Dory the past two days releases like the popping of a balloon.

First off, how dare he assume I wanted to sleep with him? And second of all, how dare he assume I'm ashamed of a breakup? And third of all, what fucking breakup is he even talking about?

"But take it from me, I've been around the block. Don't know if you can tell from the gray in my hair," he says on a soft laugh. "Sometimes what's best is to take some time away rather than to rush into…"

As we circle around to the beat of the song, I get a new view of the room, and over Dory's shoulder I spot him.

Seth.

He's just reentered through the doors to the garden, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers, scanning the room like he's just been up to no good.

The bastard. It was him. I know it!

He scared Dory away. Pulled him aside and told him some fib about my love life to scare him off. Under the guise of trying to protect me. All he's doing is isolating me.

This is textbook Seth.

And I'm fucking fed up.

Dory's voice comes back into focus. "You understand what I'm saying?"

I don't take my eyes away from Seth as he crosses back to his table.

I won't let him walk away like that.

"Yes, of course," I say, pulling away from Dory. "You're right. Thanks for the talk."

Dory tries to hold onto me, say something more, but I elude his grasp and head in the direction of Seth.

I bunch my skirt in my hands so I can walk as fast as possible over to Seth.

We lock eyes as I charge in his direction. And I can tell that for once he's scared of me.

"Bridget–" he begins when I'm in earshot.

I grab him by the arm and yank him toward the doors out of the ballroom and into the long hallway. "You've got a lot of fucking explaining to do," I growl.

"I thought you weren't talking to me," he says with a smug tone.

I glare back at him before grabbing the knob of the first door I see and yanking it open. I pull him inside, slam the door behind us, and then flip around to face him.

Seth is closer than I expect, making me gasp, not because he's scared me, but because he's much closer than…than he should be.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I move around him into the room.

Moonlight streams in through the drapes. I can make out the lines of beautiful leather couches and bookcases lining the walls. We've tripped into the estate's library.

"Care to enlighten me on what you're referring to?" Seth crosses his arms over his chest.

I stare at him, unable to speak.

My anger roils in my belly and yet…I can't help but think he's beautiful as the silvery light cuts across his face. Across his tight, closed-lipped smile and the dimple that appears in his left cheek. The one that shows me he thinks I'm some silly kid that doesn't need to be taken seriously.

I'm done with that. I'm done.

I'm a fucking woman. And he has to let go of me.

So I can let go of him. And find someone. The one truly meant for me.

Between measured breaths, I answer, "Dory."

Seth raises his eyebrows like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. He's a good actor. Knows how to be stoic and stone-faced. A Dom.

I won't believe him.

"What about him?"

I start to laugh. Wry and dark. "You're kidding, right?"

He shrugs a shoulder.

"Someone told him I just got out of a relationship."

"That's weird."

I stare at him.

He doesn't back down.

Wait. Could someone else have lied to Dory?

But why? No one else has any reason to.

Seth has always vied for power over me. Vied for control.

Doesn't he know how that screws with my head? How confusing it is when for ten years I've wanted him?

Fuck.

"Yeah, I thought so to. I asked him to dance and though he agreed, he let me down easy. Which was really embarrassing considering whatever he's been told is a lie."

For a split second, there's something like an apology in Seth's blue eyes. A softness that betrays his dishonesty.

"And I know you did it."

Seth shakes his head. "I didn't."

"Seth–"

"What would I get out of that?" He takes a step further into the room. Closer to me.

I hold my ground, remain steadfast. "You want to control me."

"That's not true."

"Admit it."

"That's not true, the way you say it. That's not true."

I step closer to him. "What the hell does that mean?"

His jaw tightens.

Fuck, I can smell him. Smell a fresh scent of cologne mixed with the tingly saltiness of sweat, a smell I have known as his all this time.

God, I want him. Being in this little room alone with him is suffocating me with desire.

If I'm not careful, I might…I don't know what I'll do. Because I've never felt anything like this.

"Answer my question, Seth."

"I already did."

I shake my head. "Answer it honestly."

"Bridget…" It's a warning. Of what, I don't know.

But we are too close. A foot apart.

I can't be here any longer if I don't want to do something I'll regret. "Fuck you," I say in a soft voice before walking past him to the door.

"Wait."

I stop, my hand on the doorknob. I don't turn, though. Not yet.

"I'll answer honestly if you agree to answer a question in return."

I look over my shoulder at him.

Seth's fists are balled at his sides. Is he nervous?

"Honestly, of course," he adds with another smirk.

I narrow my eyes. "You have to answer me first."

He nods. "Of course." Then, with his chin lowered, his blue eyes flip up to mine, darker in the shadowy room. "Do we have an agreement?"

Huffing, I drop my hand from the door. "Yes. Fine."

"Then, as we agreed, you go ahead and ask."

"Seth, did you lie to Dory and tell him I just got out of a relationship?"

Seth holds up his hands. A reveal. "Yes. I did."

My eyes pinch with tears. "Why?"

"You've already asked your question, Bridget."

I cover my eyes in frustration. "That's not fair, I deserve to know why, I deserve–"

"It's my turn."

He's closer.

I remove my hands from my eyes and tuck them against my sides, under my arms. I want to disappear. "Fine. What."

Seth doesn't speak right away. He tilts his head to the side, watching me as if timing is just as important as the question.

"Seth, what?!" I cry out.

Seth's eyes drop from mine. His tongue slides across his lower lip.

I hold my breath.

"How often do you say my name when you touch yourself, Bridget?"

Time freezes. I stare at him. Unsure if the question he asked was a real one or if maybe it was actually a different language and I just misunderstood. "What?"

His eyes lift and when they meet mine, I know. The same way I knew that he was the one who ruined my chances with Dory for the night.

He heard me when I was touching myself earlier.

I knew it was suspicious the way he was standing outside the bride's quarters, but I pushed it away because…because…

Without considering the repercussions, I turn on my heel and rush for the door again, grabbing the knob, twisting, and–

The door only opens an inch before Seth comes up behind me and slams it shut, his palm pressed against the wood. "Answer the question, Bridget."

I try to pull harder, but his strength is too much for me. "Let me go."

"You promised. A question for a question."

I pull again. "This isn't fair, Seth. This–"

"Answer me."

He grabs my shoulder and pulls me around to face him, pressing me up against the door, his hands on both my biceps. It doesn't hurt. And if it does, I don't feel the pain.

I am flooded with pleasure at his touch. At his control.

Our faces are mere inches apart. His breaths land across my skin.

"Look at me."

I close my eyes and duck my head.

"Be a good girl and look at me."

Electric pulses warm my core.

What the fuck is he doing calling me a good girl? Trying to make me a mess?

Of course, he is. If he knows I moaned his name with my fingers delved between the lips of my pussy, he knows what one ‘good girl' will do to me.

It will destroy me.

But all I've ever wanted to be is a good girl.

If this is my only opportunity to have that with Seth, I will take it.

I lift my chin, my mouth sealed closed. I will wait for his instruction. Be obedient. Listen.

I'll be so good. For him.

Like I've always wanted.

"Let me ask again." His voice is so calm and steady it's hard to imagine how much power he's exerting keeping me up against the door. "How often do you say my name when you touch yourself?"

"Very often," I say, my voice ragged and quiet.

"Louder, Bridget."

I swallow, get my strength. "Very often."

"Were you saying my name earlier today?"

It's not fair for him to ask another question. But this isn't about fairness. It's about finally serving him. His purpose. His desire. I want nothing more. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

I blink. I have heard what he is called at the Underground. Master Carlton.

Master.

I have never used the word for anyone. I have wanted to.

But with him, it doesn't feel right. It's what everyone else calls him. And I don't want to be like everyone else. I want to be his good girl, yes, but not just another one. I want to be his best girl.

There is no question, though. I have dreamed about this too many times not to take my chance.

"Yes, Sir."

Seth's eyes darken, almost all pupil, no iris. His eyes fall to my lips, then dart back to meet my gaze.

His hands slide down my arms to my wrists and in a fluid motion, he pins my hands roughly above my head.

I gasp as he presses himself against me, his face to my temple, his chest to my chest, his…

Oh god. I can feel his cock through his pants.

I've looked at it before. Couldn't help it.

I've always known it was big.

But no.

It's huge.

I can't help bending my body toward him, rubbing myself against him.

Seth's cock. I'm rubbing myself against Seth's cock.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do about this, Bridget?" he growls in my ear.

I don't have an answer for him.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do when I know what you want, and I know I can give it to you, but I…" Seth trails off.

But I can't.

And I know why he can't. Why I can't.

What if he could, though? What if we threw away convention and did? Just once. He could teach me. Break me in. Make me good for the Dom of my dreams.

Except I know the truth. If he gave me one inch of his power, I would try and take all of it. I would want to bask in it the rest of my life.

Which is why, as much as it breaks my heart, I have to stop. Now.

"It was a mistake," I say in a soft voice.

I don't mean it. None of it has been a mistake. None of it.

Seth's grip loosens on me. We droop together, his hands still on my wrists as I draw them back to my sides.

"It's just a mistake. I meant someone else. Or I…" It hurts to swallow. The tension in my jaw.

There's no going back. There's no going forward either.

Seth releases me and takes a step back. Without his touch, I feel naked, stripped of anything meaningful or true.

He rubs his chin, can't look me in the eye.

I grab the doorknob and move so fast I'm close to flying, I can't bear to hear him apologize. Can't bear to know his regret when mine is so heavy.

I return to the ballroom as if I was never gone and fold myself into the throng of dancers doing the electric slide, bumping up against Sonia who grins at me in a champagne haze. "Having a good time?"

"Great!" I say without missing a beat.

We dance.

But all that's on my mind is Seth.

Now that I've had one little taste, I know I will crave him every moment of every day.

For that, I regret everything.