This wasn’t about love or passion. Just sex. Just fulfilling her needs.
Andrew’s lips were heavy on hers as he forced her mouth open. His tongue was an invasion. He tasted like stale beer and cigarettes. She hadn’t even known he smoked. Whatever. She wasn’t going to think about it. She fisted his shirt in her hands and returned his kiss with enthusiasm.
“God, Bri, you’re fucking hot,” Andrew breathed. He twisted her breast and then grasped her bare thigh. “I knew I’d get inside this all along.”
“You knew?” she asked.
He sat on the bed and yanked her down on top of him. “Yeah, babe. Now, let’s get you out of this dress.”
He pulled the material over her head, rolled her over flat on the bed, and covered her body. His hands were everywhere, drawing a road map on her skin as clumsily as he could. Then, he fiddled with himself, slid on a condom, and reached down to shove her underwear aside.
It had been a while since she had sex, and even though Andrew wasn’t the person she wanted to be on top of her right now, he would have to do. He wasn’t a conquest in the same way. He was more of a plaything, and she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she could do better than him and had done so in the past.
Her body responded as if it had been starving for attention. Europe was a distant memory. When she came, it wasn’t earth-shattering, but it did the job better than masturbating. And it was damn better than waiting around for Mr. Right to never show up. Otherwise, she would never have sex again.
Later, when she returned to the room she shared with Stacia, she wasn’t even surprised to find it empty. Stacia had said she was going to find her own fun even if it wasn’t with Blaine. Bryna changed into her silk slip and crawled under the hotel comforter. She didn’t even crinkle her nose at the lack of quality compared to what she was used to. She rested her head on the pillow and tried to let sleep take her, but her heart constricted.
This was right. This was how life was supposed to be.
Love was an illusion. It didn’t exist in her world.
She shouldn’t expect it. There was no point in searching for it. All it had ever done was weaken her, turn her into an idiot, force her to make bad choices, and completely lose control.
She had the control now.
No matter how empty she felt on the inside.
The next morning, Bryna shrugged off Stacia’s questions about her night. She didn’t want to talk about it. It had been a while since she felt so low. And it made zero sense. After such a victory, she should have been unbelievably happy, yet she had lain awake for far too long, trying to fall asleep and chase the memories away.
She was not broken. Today, she would renew her calm confidence and forget about the momentary slip.
They were transported back to the airport, and she sank heavily into her assigned seat on the airplane. Her head was throbbing. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. It was too early in the morning, and she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. As soon as the plane took off, she was going to put in her headphones and pass out. She wished she were flying private, so she would have a bed to sleep in. That would be ideal.
“Bryna!” Beth said, appearing in front of her.
Beth was a senior on the cheer team and a real pain in the ass.
“Hey, Beth,” she said.
“You’re sitting next to Greg, right?” she asked.
“Uh…yeah, I think so.”
“Can we switch seats?”
Bryna arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” She flipped her dark brown ponytail and winked. “Plus, you’ll be at the front of the plane, so first off.”
Bryna wanted to ask what Beth was going to do for her if she switched, but it was a sign of how out of it she was that she didn’t. “Fine. Where are you sitting?”
Beth breathed out a sigh of relief as if she had thought it was going to be more difficult than that. She handed over her plane ticket, and Bryna grabbed her bags and trudged up the aisle. She found her row empty and took the aisle seat even though Beth’s ticket directed her to the window.
Bryna hated window seats. She hated the thought of climbing over people to have to get up. She hated waiting for someone else to get out of the way, so she could get to her bags. In fact, this was why she hated coach, too. If she couldn’t fly private, then it absolutely should be first class.
She hoisted her carry-on into the overhead bin, retrieved her headphones, and placed her purse under the seat in front of her. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings as soon as she closed her eyes and turned on her music. This was her Zen. As long as no one disturbed her, she might be able to control the über bitchiness that was bubbling right under the surface this morning.
A tap on her shoulder pulled her right out of her happy place. She yanked off her headphones and glared up at the person who had disturbed her.
“You’re in the wrong seat,” Eric grumbled.
Fucking great.
“We meet again,” she said dryly.
“You’re in the wrong seat,” he repeated.
“I switched with Beth. She wanted to sit by Greg. I’m sure if I had known I’d have to sit by you on the way home, I wouldn’t have been so generous.”
“Generous,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve heard you’re very generous.”
She ignored the jab and rolled her eyes. “Just what I wanted.”
Eric threw his bag up next to hers. “Seemed that way at Posse.”
Bryna hadn’t talked to him since that night, and if she’d had it her way, she wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Especially after the night she’d had, she was in no mood for this.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Didn’t have to,” he said. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “You did that for me, remember?”
Bryna glowered at him. Seriously, what is wrong with him? All this because I’m sitting in Beth’s seat? Fuck off already! “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut the fuck up,” she said.
At her profanity, the people in the seats surrounding them glanced over, but Eric pointedly smiled at them, and they quickly looked away.
He leaned forward before speaking again, “Why don’t you scoot over?”
“Um…no. I like the aisle. If I have to demean myself by flying coach, I’m staying in the aisle.”
“Wow. Flying coach must be so rough for you,” he said as sarcastically as possible. Then, he stepped over her legs and sank into the seat next to her. He pushed his backpack under the seat and removed his own headphones.
“I prefer to fly private,” she said.
“Why does none of this surprise me?”
Bryna gritted her teeth. She had given him the benefit of the doubt earlier because she admired his football skills. But her temper was flaring, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle this right now.
“What the fuck is your problem? You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” he drawled, untangling the cord of the headphones.
“Clearly nothing important. What about you, Cowboy?” she joked, but it came out with venom.
She knew Eric was from outside of Dallas, and the Southern drawl sometimes crept into his words.
“What should I know about you, other than that you’re a self-righteous prick who likes to try to humiliate people and pick fights?”
“A self-righteous prick?” He raised his eyebrows and then nodded. “Seems you already know everything about me. Not sure why you asked me out if you thought that about me.”
“Ugh! It was a joke.”
“Asking me out?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “It was a joke.”
“You don’t have to cover it up, Bryna. I thought you were quite proud of your promiscuity,” he said the last word so casually.