But every time I looked up, Birdie was still focused on that damn phone, every now and again moving my head where she wanted it without another word.
Panic began to spiral through me.
What was happening
Maybe she needed some dirty talk. I loved dirty talking with Birdie.
“Oh, my pretty filthy girl,” I growled. “Ride my face. I love when my tongue is deep inside this pretty pussy.”
“Yeah, ok,” Birdie said. “A little to the left.”
Then she closed her eyes for about twenty-five seconds and came.
She was normally so noisy and vocal that it was extremely jolting, but of course still hot as hell as I lapped up all her come, loving the little pulses against my face, the way I could see the tan line with her tiny little bikini bottoms.
I didn’t even care that I hadn’t come, my cock dripping precum down my legs as I sat next to her, nuzzling in Birdie’s neck, inhaling her fresh, sexy coconut scent.
“I love when your come is running down my chin and soaking into my beard. Baby girl, I love you but you’re also the best damn lay I’ve ever had. Come on, sweetheart, forgive me. Let me make it up to you. A wedding twice as big. Honeymoon twice as long. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
I glanced down as I crooned in her ear, but instead of Birdie looking at me lovingly, I noticed she was looking at her Tiktok messages.
I blinked at the phone just in time to see her typing, “I’m not doing anything now”to some gym looking douche-bro.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snarled, grabbing the phone from her and scanning the text thread. “Who is this guy?”
Some bro namedDarren, who had been sending her messages with every social media post she’d made off and on for months, about how hot she was, but they’d ramped up after the wedding disaster two weeks ago.
And he wasn’t the only one. Her DMs were full of younger men begging for a scrap of attention.
Because of course. Because Birdie was a prize. Hot fucking stuff.
And like an idiot I’d provided them an opening.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“What about what we just did? Didn’t that mean anything to you?” I wished I could get that plaintive note out of my voice but somehow I just couldn’t excise it.
“It sure did. It meant I’m perfectly fine to use you as a fuck buddy if no one younger is available. Sort of as a backup plan, as it were.”
Fuck, that almost knocked the wind out of me.
“I love you,” I tried, but she only snatched the phone back and resumed reading her messages, a little smile playing over her face.
“I do not appreciate you acting like I’m just one on your roster. We are not fuck buddies. We’re lovers, partners, and I want to be your husband.”
Birdie only shrugged, barely listening.
“You can’t tell me any other man knows exactly what can make you explode like that. Most men don’t even know where the fucking clit is.”
“Maybe,” she retorted. “But how fun it would be to teach them.”
Inside unfamiliar anxiety was scraping down me like peeling wallpaper.
“Please, Birdie no—you’ve got to believe me—”
She raised a hand to cut me off and those plump lips were set firmly.
“Oh, I believe you deeply regret this and etc etc etc. It doesn’t matter. I’mgladyou did it, because you showed me we aren’t suited at all. We aren’t compatible. I don’t come from your world.”
