Page 37 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

brIDGET

T hey enter the hotel lobby and head straight for their room. Silas picks her up and takes her into the bedroom. He places her on the bed and gently lays down on top of her.

“I gotta be real with you. It’s been a minute since a woman has captivated me like you have.

You walked into the gym, looking like the type who makes niggas bend the knee for shits and grins.

You may not have noticed, but you had eyes on you, Bridget.

And how could you not? Look at you. Beautiful, brilliant, accomplished, honest, kind, loving.

You put everything into whatever it is you do.

And I’ll tell you something, it’s made me fall hard for you. ”

Bridget has tears in her eyes. Her lips quiver, and the tears roll down her cheeks.

She takes a sharp inhale. “Please fuck me,” she whimpers.

Silas kisses her. They nibble one another’s lips before pressing them together repeatedly.

Silas licks the seam of Bridget’s mouth.

She responds by sliding her tongue across his.

Bridget can’t get enough of Silas’s kisses.

They breathe life into her. His words and kisses are affirmations Bridget didn’t realize she needed.

When they break apart, he slides her sweatpants down and takes off her pullover hoodie and T-shirt. He kisses her neck, chest, and stomach. He makes his way between her legs and removes her panties with a swiftness Bridget has never seen.

“That was impressive.”

“You should see how quickly I can take off a bra.”

“Too bad I’m not wearing one.”

“Too bad for who?”

He slides back up and sucks on each nipple before going back to the lower part of her body. His lips wrap around her lower ones, sucking on them and making Bridget squirm. Silas uses his fingers to open up her folds and sticks his tongue inside her.

“Uh,” Bridget moans, her hips involuntarily making a circular motion, prompting Silas to turn his tongue, French-kissing her pussy.

He takes his tongue out and looks up at her. “You ready to ride my face?”

Bridget nods rapidly, making Silas chuckle. He turns and lays on his back. She adjusts herself so her pussy is right above his mouth. She lowers and temporarily sees sparks when his tongue reconnects to her.

Jesus Christ! Ukweli, you magnificent bastard . We’ve got to send her more money .

The air-conditioning has made the room chilly, but she can’t feel anything but Silas.

His hands grabbing her ass as he devours her with his lips and his tongue.

Bridget feels a buildup she hasn’t gotten from a man in a while.

She pushes Silas’s head in more and closes her thighs around it.

Her hips thrust, and Silas doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his tongue inside her.

Just as Bridget hits her peak, he stops, flips her onto her stomach and pushes his dick inside her.

“Aye! Fuck,” Bridget cries out.

Silas strums her clit while fucking her senseless.

“Shit, Bridget. Your grip.”

“Ah, fuck. Silas, baby your dick!” she wails.

He grips her ass and makes it jiggle before smacking it.

“More, more, more,” Bridget begs.

Silas smacks her ass two more times then grabs it.

He said she could make men bend at the knee, but this man is making her want to pledge her undying fealty to him.

“Why your pussy so good?” Silas fucks her harder. “Hmm? You hear me talking to you, Bridge. Answer me. Why your pussy so good?”

“I don’t know,” Bridget whimpers.

“No, baby. I don’t want to hear that.”

“Ah! Fuck, I’m about to come.” Bridget’s legs feel like they’re about to give out.

Silas grips her hips and pounds into her more and more. His strums have increased as he uses all four fingertips.

“Tell me why your pussy’s so good, Bridget.”

“I don’t know, it just is. Oh, fuck. Silas, it’s coming. It’s … Silas!” she exclaims.

Silas’s fingers dig into the flesh of her hips and ass. He seizes before he comes inside her.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Bridge, you’re squeezing me. You’re squeezing me, baby.”

Silas wraps his arms around her upper body and lays them both down. He pulls a blanket around them. Bridget snuggles up to him, and he kisses her forehead before they drift to sleep.

“Go, Silas!” Aimee cheers.

Bridget has her girls on speakerphone at the hotel.

They finally made it to Idaho after Silas woke up super early to change and check out.

They’re way behind schedule, but does Bridget care?

Hell no. This mission has resulted in the best outcome possible.

Even better than revenge on her ex. She’s in love.

Hearing Silas tell her he fell for her was a relief because she’s been falling for him since their breakfast date at the diner.

“Let me tell you. The dirty talk was hitting. That man asked me why my pussy was so good. I was like, ‘Sir, I need you to explain why your dick is making me want to have your baby.’ And I can’t even make babies anymore, y’all,” Bridget says.

“I love that! The other night, Kofi put his lips to my ear and said, ‘Your pussy’s so wet, Sooch. Is that what this dick does to you, baby?’ I’m telling you … I was flooding like Niagara Falls after he said that,” Suchi says.

The ladies burst out laughing.

“Don’t leave us hanging, Aimee and Lyric. What are Patrick’s and Ranson’s best lines?” Bridget asks.

“Ranson doesn’t have a line per se, but he does this growling thing that gets my mojo going.” Lyric closes her eyes and shivers at the thought.

“And good Lord, Patrick has a whole plethora of lines. The other day we were fucking on his balcony?—”

“Wait! Y’all were fucking where?” Bridget asks.

“Hush up and let me finish the story. Anyway, he grabbed me by the throat while fucking me from behind and told me?—”

“Aimee! What are you telling the ladies?” Patrick says in the background.

The ladies giggle.

“It was good stuff, my love.”

“Hurry up so I can give you some more of that good stuff.”

“You’re going to have to wait, sir.”

“Look at you, Aimee. Showing restraint,” Lyric teases.

“Excuse me, Ms. Fuqua. I have self-control.”

Suchi blows out a raspberry and chuckles. “Ha! No, you don’t,”

“Seriously, you are ad- dick -ted to that man,” Lyric jokes.

“Hell, we all are ad- dick -ted to our men,” Aimee counters.

They laugh some more.

“Would y’all think I’m crazy if I told you I’m already in love with Silas?”

“After Ukweli and everything we’ve had happen to us over the past seven months? No,” Lyric replies.

“Good, because I am.”

“We’re so happy for you, Bridge,” Suchi says.

“Thanks. Me too,” she beams with joy.

It’s almost midnight when Silas and Bridget make it to Montana.

The man’s stamina needs to be studied, pronto.

He somehow managed to fuck her again and drive nine more hours, with a few stops in between for them to eat and see some local sights.

They hit up a few shops and took selfies.

Bridget sent a couple to the kids and her girls.

She doesn’t want to post on social media until she speaks to Silas first. She looks at the picture they took earlier and caressing the image on the screen as he comes out of the bathroom after a shower.

“What are you smiling at?” Silas asks.

“Us.” She turns her phone so he can see the selfie.

Silas smiles at the picture.

Bridget looks at it again. They were sitting outside an ice cream parlor enjoying their ice cream cones when she leaned in and took the picture. Right after, he kissed her, tasting like pralines and cream.

She looks up at him. “We should go back to LA,” she says.

“What?”

“Silas, I’m in love with you. That’s all that matters. Not revenge. Us. Let’s go home,” Bridget admits.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do, but please let me say my piece.”

“The floor is yours.”

“This started out as your revenge plot, but it quickly became ours the minute I agreed to come to this wedding with you. And that has only grown the more I’m around you.

You are my Queen Miranda, and I am your Tyberious.

You will always have my sword, and you will always have my heart.

Now get some sleep, we have a wedding to go to tomorrow. ”

Bridget should have known he’d know just what to say. She smiles coyly and says, “Okay.”

He gently takes her by the back of the head and presses his lips against hers.

The next day, they head to the hotel bar and chill. Bridget is hungry, so they skip the ceremony and attend the reception instead. They sit at a table while Bridget looks over the menu and Silas checks in with the girls. Bridget called Lamar’s parents and checked in with the kids an hour ago.

A group of ladies are seated at a table beside them, talking. It doesn’t take long before Bridget is looking up from the menu and Silas is looking up from his phone.

“Justine is being ridiculous,” a gorgeous Black woman with lavender hair and dimples says.

“I know, right? I mean, what did she expect? It was never going to be a huge turnout,” an equally gorgeous Latina woman in red says.

“I know one thing. She had better stop pouting and get her ass out of the bridal suite before people leave. Then she and Lamar won’t be getting married in front of anyone,” an Asian woman with a pink pixie cut says.

“God, I’ll be happy when this day is over,” lady in red says.

“You and me both,” pink and pixie reply.

“And can somebody explain to me why we had to trek all the way to Montana for this nonsense?” lavender dimples asks.

“Because it’s the setting—” pink and pixie answers.

“Yeah, I know it’s the setting of Lamar’s books, but so what? We’re not even on a ranch. The wedding is at a hotel. They could have easily held this travesty in LA. Hell, more people probably would’ve come. I’m only here because I felt sorry for Justine,” lavender dimples adds.

Bridget and Silas exchange a glance. She knows they shouldn’t be listening, but their table is nearby, and the bar isn’t that crowded.

“Let’s be honest. How long do you think Lamar and Justine will last?” lady in red asks.