Read Online Consequence by Madeline Sloane - Free Book Online Page B

shower stall gasping. She sensed he was
close to climax, but Boone had different plans. He cupped her
bottom and speared her, wrapping her legs around his thighs. She
rocked, trapped between him and the wall, until she heard his
strangled groan, then felt him stiffen with release.
    Bridget’s legs relaxed and she slid into the
tub. She sat, legs crossed, and looked up at Boone.
    “I think I’ve lost my mind.”
     
    The red sky in the morning had presaged a
snowstorm, which fell for several hours. Boone radioed police
headquarters, confirming Neil was on call and the snowplows were
running. Then he and Bridget settled in for a long nap.
    While Boone snored beneath the down quilt on
Bridget’s bed, she stared at the tiny black curls resting against
his neck. She was exhausted, aching and enthralled. She had never
felt better in her entire life. Boone was magnificent. He wanted
her and he loved her.
    Well, he sort of loves me, she thought. I
mean, as a friend, I know he loved me. But now, as a lover? Does he
love me?
    Now, Boone was here, where, as a teen in
love, she dreamt he would be. Lying in bed, surrounded by mementoes
of her youth, she realized the décor was too girlish. She hadn’t
bothered to toss away any of her old belongings when she moved back
home. Her bedroom was for sleeping, not entertaining.
    Entertaining. Would she be doing a lot more
now that she and Boone were lovers? Would he want to come back?
Would he want to make love again? What if last night was a fluke?
Okay, last night and this morning. Then this afternoon. What if
they were all flukes?
    “Stop grinding your teeth,” Boone said.
    “I can’t help it. I’m worried.”
    He flipped over, his eyes serious. “What are
you worried about?”
    “Boone,” she began, then scooted closer and
touched his cheek. “Boone,” she repeated. “I’m worried this will
change how we feel about each other.”
    “Of course it does.” Boone closed his eyes
and lay on his back, crossing his hands on his chest. “Is that
all?”
    “What do you mean ‘is that all?’ That’s all
there is, Boone. What if you don’t… what if you aren’t … what if I
can’t?”
    “Bridget,” he whispered, fondling her hair.
“You know what this is. Why are you questioning it? Accept it.”
    She raised her head and gazed in his eyes.
She’d been holding her breath, avoiding eye contact.
    “I don’t know what you want now.” She let out
a sigh, and Boone chuckled.
    “Baby, I’ve been aching to touch you. To kiss
you and to make love to you. To play motorboat with these great
boobs of yours, to bury my face in your …” his last words were lost
when he dove under the covers and blew a raspberry on her stomach.
Bridget began to laugh and twist, knotting up the sheets as she
tried to escape his tickling.
    “Stop, stop,” she panted. She pulled the
cover from his face. “So, I’ve got great boobs, eh? Tell me more,”
she commanded.
    “Ah, here we go. Women. Always the man has to
do the work. Why don’t you tell me what you like about me instead?”
Boone suggested.
    Bridget sat up in bed to think.
    Boone pulled her back to the pillows. “It’s
not a thesis. Don’t take it seriously.”
    “But that’s just it, Boone. I do take it
seriously. You should know by now, I couldn’t be here with you, not
like this, if I didn’t ….”
    She couldn’t finish the sentence. She
couldn’t say “I love you” because she worried this was all about
being horny. She was available and they had a history.
    “I know,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“Now, can I go back to sleep?”
    So, he couldn’t say it either, could he?
    It was a draw, and since Bridget wasn’t sure
how to play this game, she decided to hold her thoughts close.
Soon, she was asleep and the snow piled higher.
     
    It was dark. Bridget had a headache and her
stomach growled. They hadn’t eaten all day and most likely were
dehydrated. She got out of the bed, leaving Boone to sleep.