My Dirty Little Secret

Chapter Seventeen

Chelsea's POV

"So," I tested the waters with Brooke in the morning, "How's the break-up going?"

"Refreshing," she smiled. "Couldn't be better."

"Think you've moved on yet?" I asked, thinking, naturally, of myself.

"I moved on weeks ago."

"That's good to hear, because my car broke down and I need someone to take me home tonight," I boldly suggested.

"How do you mean that?" she questioned, winking quickly before biting her bottom lip. In that two seconds, she was the sexiest I'd ever seen her.

"However you want me to," I flirted in a low, lascivious voice.

She giggled, wrapping her arms around my waist as she kissed my lips, parted in a smile.

 "Maybe," she cooed between kisses, "I just want you."

 "Well you know what they say," I replied. "If you want it, take it."

She smiled. "Do they say that?"

"If they don't, I do."

"Is that permission?"

"That's an invitation," I corrected. 

 "Hm," she said deviously. "Even better."

Throughout the day, I only hoped that Brooke had gotten my less than subtle insinuations. I'd been as direct as possible without coming on too strong. And for her, just coming out of a break-up, I was just lucky she'd responded as well as she had. I knew I'd played the circumstancial cards I'd been dealt as well as I could have possibly played them; now, I had to let the chips fall where they would.

While non-verbally, I still did my best to express my undying interest. I shot her looks during my study hall. I gave her coy smiles during English.  At cheer, I made sure she knew I was checking her out the entire time, and her periodic smiles assured me that she did. But still, I wasn't sure she understood how much I wanted her. Practice had ended and I'd purposely taken my time changing, lingering in the gym, inconspicuously occupying myself until the last girl had gone on her way. At last, we were alone, and I thought that maybe I'd made a mistake in trying to make myself so available to her.

But all my fears subsided when I saw that sexy signature smile illuminate her face. There was the unmistakable chime of metal she swung her keys around her middle finger.

Turning completely to me, she asked, "So, does that invitation still stand?"

___________

Twenty-five minutes later, I was in Brooke's apartment, in her king bed, on her 800 thread count sheets, underneath her as she looked at me lustfully in the push-up position. 

"This feels unreal," she mused breathily, unlocking her elbows and falling into place beside me as she drew invisible pictures with her forefinger on my collarbone.

"I never thought I'd be here either," I thought out loud.

"Chelsea, you're not...I mean, I don't have to worry about...you...I mean...you've...before?"

I had to laugh. She was so nervous. And awkward. And adorable. "No," I said, satiating her concerns. "I'm not a virgin."

She exhaled. "Okay," she said, coming back to kiss me again, but I stopped her.

"And you're not, I mean, I don't have to worry about, you, I mean, you're single?" I teased.

"Yes," she laughed, pushing me playfully. "I am."

"Okay," I mocked, giving her the kiss she'd wanted.

Without any further inhibitions, that night Brooke gave me the most incredible sex of my life. She made me feel amazing, but more importantly, I felt her passion, and got the notion that she, Brooke Chandler, actually truly cared about me. That idea chilled me, excited me, scared me, and amazed me, all at the same time.

"You know, that's the fastest I've ever gotten into bed with a girl," she tried to explain herself later. "I don't want you to think I'm that easy," she said.

"I'm just special?" 

"You're very special," she drawled, "but you should know that by now."

"Well don't worry about it," I assured her. "It's the twenty-first century. You don't have to marry me or anything."

She laughed, resting her hands behind her head. "Chelsea Chandler?"

"Excuse you? Brooke Davidson," I kidded, feigning anger. 

"Fine, have it your way," she said. Then, under her breath, added, "Chelsea Chandler."

I tackled her playfully and we rolled around, fighting, though never to hurt each other. After that, I can't put a number value on how long we spent there, kissing, cuddling, talking about nothing. I'd never felt that close to a girl, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was because this wasn't a girl, but a woman, not interested in playing mind games and always trying to get the upper hand. It was refreshing to for once be in a relationship - or whatever it was - where all the intentions were good, no playing around, no sneaking, no lying, no cheating. I only dreamed that maybe, she was feeling the same way about me.

It had almost hit eleven o'clock, when I figured I should get going. I didn't want to leave her, and I didn't even know how. But all that changed pretty quickly when we heard a door open downstairs and Brooke pushed me out of her bed, telling me to hide.