Did she want him to go with her? Yes. So badly. Maybe she didn’t know him. But so far, he’d been much nicer to her than her own family. And it would stop all the pitying looks she’d get from everyone at the wedding if she turned up alone.
“Do you think I’m pathetic because I was asking strangers to go to the wedding with me?”
“I would never call you pathetic, and I don’t want you to say it about yourself either,” he said firmly. “And I’m coming with you.”
“O-okay. That would be nice.”
She groaned silently. Had she really just said that would be nice.
“Shall I pick you up or do you need to arrive with the bride?”
“With the bride. I’ll have to be at the hotel early. Sorry.” She winced. He’d have to go on his own. She was asking too much.
“No need to apologize,” he told her calmly. “Just text me a time and location. I’ll be there. We should probably also get our stories straight if I’m going to act as your pretend boyfriend.”
“Thanks. Okay. Good. Bye.” She ended the call then stared at her phone in horror. Had she basically just hung up on him?
What the hell was wrong with her?
“A lot. A lot is wrong with me.”
She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Pressing her legs together, she let out a small moan of pleasure.
Stuff it. She needed to do something about the need racing through her. Getting out of bed, she moved to her large duffel bag. Yeah, she was traveling light out of necessity. Also, because Axel had claimed that everything in the apartment was his. She probably could have fought him on that. But where would she have put anything?
No, she didn’t need anything more to cart around. All she needed was some clothing, toiletries, Bessy her guitar, and Mr. Wiggly.
Although if she could have, she’d have kept the couch. She loved that couch. She’d done some of her best composing on it.
That was something she hadn’t been able to do since she’d discovered Axel was cheating on her. Her muse had abandoned her. But she refused to think it was because Axel was out of her life.
She was just going through a dry spell.
Well, that was broken now. She smacked her hand against her forehead at that thought.
Not that sort of dry spell.
Although . . . when was the last time Mr. Wiggly had an outing? A long time. It wasn’t like she had any privacy when she was sleeping in people’s living rooms.
She climbed back into bed and turned it on. It started vibrating, the little ears moving as well. She pulled her pajama pants and panties down and undid the buttons on her pajama top so she could cup her breast. As she lightly pinched her nipple, she placed the ears against her clit.
A low moan escaped her.
That felt so damn good.
Pleasure rushed through her and she knew she was close. She was already wet and as she pushed the head of the vibrator into her pussy, it slid inside her easily.
“Oh, fuck.”
It was almost too much. She was overloaded with sensation. She could imagine Butch touching her, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking.
Oh God.
So close. She was so close. And it was going to be amazing. She was just on the cusp . . .
When the vibrations stopped.
“Nooo,” she groaned.
What the fuck had just happened? She slid the vibrator free from her pussy and shook it.
Nothing.
She turned it on and off.
Still nothing.
This was cruel and unusual punishment. How could he stop working right now? Although, when had she last changed the batteries?
“God damn it!” She threw the vibrator across the room. It landed with a thump against the wall.
Eww. She was going to have to sanitize that before it went near her again.
She let out a loud moan. “Why me?”
“Hey, girlie, if you need a hand there, I’d be happy to help!”
She froze. What the hell? Where had that voice come from? Was someone watching her? Oh my God!
“Sounds like you was having a good time there. What happened? Vibrator die? I got something better than a vibrator. I got me a real dick.”
She put her hands against her cheeks. Holy crap. Was that the person in the next unit? Had they heard her having a good time with her vibrator?
Please no.
Please let the ground open up and swallow her whole.
It was the only way she was going to survive.
“Girlie? You okay? Don’t be upset. If your vibrator isn’t working you still got your fingers, huh? Just make sure you’re nice and loud, my hearing ain’t what it used to be. But Old Al’s dick still works just fine.”
“I am not going to finish! Loudly or otherwise. And please stop talking, I wish to die quietly of embarrassment.”