by Amy Brent
I slipped easily into her dripping pussy and swallowed her groans with my mouth. Holy fuck, she was tight as hell, and I had to slow down when I was pushing my thick dick into her. She shook and trembled with every inch I gave to her, and her pussy felt so good. It gobbled down my entire length and stretched to accommodate me, just like I’d always imagined her body would.
“Holy shit, Bridget,” I said.
“Fuck me with that cock of yours,” she said.
Her words lit a fire in my gut. I drew my hips back and snapped them into her. Her back arched in pleasure, and her tits pressed into my face. I barreled into her perfectly sculpted body while her hands clamped down on the muscles in my back.
Her long, smooth legs wrapped around me, pulling me deeper into her. Her pussy walls fluttered around me, and I wrapped my arms around her and picked her up from the bed. My dick stayed sheathed inside of her, her juices dripping down my balls, and I pinned her to the wall next to my window. I held her gaze for just a second, taking in the sheer delight in her eyes. I brushed the hair away from her face, and then I captured her lips with mine before I drove my cock straight into her pussy.
Her heels dug into the small of my back, and I groaned with every rake of her fingertips along my skin. She trembled and panted while beads of sweat rolled down my body. Her face was buried into the crook of my neck, and her hands were grasping at anything I had to give. My hands tucked up underneath her legs and grabbed onto her ass, giving me handfuls of that beautiful backside of hers.
I felt her pussy clamp down onto my cock, and I hooked my arms up underneath the crooks of her legs and pinned her to the wall. Her eyes widened as my hips continued to snap into hers, picking up their pace while she was completely pinned to the wall. She couldn’t move, and she couldn’t thrust. All she could do was bang her head against the wall and choke back her sounds of pleasure while I shook her body with the tremors of my own.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “I’m so close. Please, let me move.”
I thrusted a few more times before I finally let her legs go. She came hard around my dick, and I held her body close to mine and slid right out of her. She shook around me while her hands gripped into the muscles of my back. I stumbled backward onto the bed while my hot streams of come shot up against the wall.
It had taken her no time at all to come. I held her there on my bed, and I began to run my fingers through her hair. She relaxed into me, almost as if she was made to be there in the first place.
“Oh, my god,” she said through her heavy breathing.
“I know,” I said.
After she slowly recuperated, she got up to go clean herself up. I wiped down the wall before I put on my pants, and she emerged from the bathroom looking flushed with a healthy glow. Even as I walked her out to her car, I wished she would stay with me, just so I could hold her through the night and convince myself it had actually happened.
I had slept with Bridget Meyers.
And it wasn’t a random hook up, either. There had been passion and lust building since the moment I’d laid eyes on her. Even as I put her in her car and kissed the top of her head, I couldn’t get her off my mind. The way her pussy swallowed all of my dick and the way her fingernails scratched against my skin, it made me shiver just thinking about it.
I laid down that night with nothing but her on my mind. The room smelled of sex, and the bed had her perfume where I’d laid her down earlier. The wall was still stained with my come, and I figured I would probably have to paint over it, but none of that mattered to me.
What mattered was that I had just slept with the most incredible woman alive. And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I could hold her afterward.
Chapter 13
Bridget
I had to get my hair and nails done for the party tomorrow, which meant Thomas had to accompany me. A charity auction was taking place for the national children’s hospital, and they had asked me to be one of the spokespeople for their campaign. I had agreed to give them both my time, my support, and a donation for the fund, so I was required to make an appearance. It was a formal function for many high-profile people to attend, so I wanted to make sure I looked my best.
I was nervous to see Thomas because I wasn’t sure if things would be awkward. But when he arrived at the house, all my nerves dissipated. He had a huge smile for me and gave me a warm hug. I instantly melted into him again, just like I had last night.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Morning,” I said. “I know you’re gonna hate me, but we have errands to run today.”
“You just never stop doing things, do you?” he asked.
“I have a hair and nail appointment at noon for the party tomorrow, so bring something to read.”
“I could just stare at you, if that’s all right.”
I felt my cheeks heat up at his comment, and a soft giggle peeled from my lips. It wasn’t awkward like I thought it was going to be at all, and that brought me a comforting relief. We went and sat at the table while I brewed some coffee, and the conversation flowed easily between us while it percolated.
“Lacey is adorable, by the way. She’s absolutely beautiful. Keep that gun handy for when she reaches her teenage years.”
“I’ve already got my hunting rifles ready,” he said. “If I’m gonna hunt them down, I’m gonna do it right.”
“Those poor guys don’t stand a chance with the girl whose father is the Hulk himself,” I said.
“No worries. I’ll teach her how to throw a mean punch, and they won’t even get to my doorstep.”
I got up to serve the coffee, and I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt so nice having him around, and my body gravitated toward him naturally in a way I’d never experienced with anyone before. Every other guy just wanted to fuck me, but Thomas wanted to actually get to know my body.
At least, that was what it felt like.
“She liked you, too, you know,” he said. “She wouldn't stop asking me when you were coming over next time.”
“Really?” I asked. “Man, she’s too cute.”
“You were all she talked about on the ride to school. ‘Bridget painted with me,’ and ‘Bridget played blocks with me,’ and ‘why don’t you ever run your fingers through my hair like she did?’”
“Well, I can personally testify as to how good that feels when you do it,” I said. “Don’t rob your daughter of something like that.”
Shit, his daughter liked me. At least if she had hated me, I wouldn’t have to tell Thomas my secret. But being around his daughter and her wanting me to come back around meant I had to be honest with him. I had to tell him what he was protecting me from, in case it backfired and put them in some sort of danger.
But when his eyes connected with mine over the edge of his coffee mug, I shoved the idea to the back of my mind. I could tell him after the party, like on the way home or something. I didn’t want anything tainting something that was supposed to be good for the children, especially if it would cause a rift between us like earlier this week.
“So, what’s this fancy party for?” he asked.
“It’s a charity auction for the national children’s hospital. All proceeds go to funding treatments they give terminally ill children.”
“That’s a wonderful cause,” he said. “Any reason why it caught your eye?”
“They asked me to be one of the spokespeople for their campaign, and I thought it was a wonderful cause. I kept thinking that, one day, if I’m lucky enough to have kids, that might be my kid. I might wake up one day with a child who has cancer or who is born with a debilitating disease, and I’d want something like that available for him or her.”
“Well, it’ll be an honor to attend the dinner with you,” he said.
Yep. I would wait until after the party. I would tell him after the charity auction, and he could make his decision from there.
“Any idea of how you’re gonna do your hair and shit?” he asked.
“A
nd shit?” I asked. “Wow, nice to know you actually care about this stuff.”
“No, really. I mean, I’ll never have to deal with that stuff, but you do for your job all time. So, it’s important to you, right?”
“I suppose so, yeah,” I said.
“So, what are you going to do for them?” he asked again.
“Probably just some sort of updo. I bought a pearl necklace and earrings from that store we went to this week, so something that gets my hair out of the way and shows those off.”
“It sounds beautiful,” he said. “What about your nails?”
“Thomas, you really don’t have to care,” I said, giggling.
“Well, I’m choosing to,” he said. “So, what about your nails?”
“I don’t know. Probably something that matches my dress.”
“What color’s your dress?” he asked.
I paused and looked at him over my coffee mug. How would he take it when he realized our outfits matched? Would he be upset? Would be think that was weird? Would he like it?
“It’s a dark green lace with a champagne-colored bow around my waist,” I said.
I watched his eyes twinkle with delight before he threw his head back and laughed. I was relieved when he began laughing because the sound was comforting to my ears. But I was still a little curious as to why he was laughing.
“Of course, it is,” he said. “Ironically, those are the colors of my suit.”
“I swear I didn’t plan it like that, Thomas.”
“I know you didn’t. I just think it’s funny how we had all that bad tension between us that day, and we still managed to railroad our lives together.”
“So, you’re not upset?” I asked.
“Amused and a bit curious as to what you’ll look like, but not at all upset.”
“Okay, good,” I said.
“I’m actually kind of looking forward to it,” he said. “Going with you to this thing. I mean, I’ll be on the lookout for threats, but it’ll still be nice.”
“I’ll enjoy being there with you, too.”
I curled up into the kitchen chair and continued to sip my coffee while he looked through his phone. The light from the phone lit up his face, and I really got a chance to study how blue his eyes were. Lacey had his eyes, but I could tell from the dark color of Thomas’s eyebrows that she probably had her mother’s hair. Part of me wanted to press him about her mother some more, but part of me knew if I did, I’d risk spilling everything to him.
And it had to wait.
After the auction, Bridget. After the auction.
Chapter 14
Thomas
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. The moment she came down those stairs in that beautiful gown, she took my breath away. The bow made her innocence pop, but the updo with the sparkling pearls boasted of a womanly femininity I hadn’t noticed until tonight. She walked down the stairs lightly in the heels that clacked underneath her, and I saw her eyes raking over me, just like mine were doing for her.
“Ready?” I asked.
“You look incredible,” she said.
“I could compliment you, but the English language has no words to do you justice.”
I helped her into the car, and Bernie took us to the charity auction. It never occurred to me that “high-profile” meant “celebrities,” and the moment I walked through the doors, I saw people I recognized. I bit back the urge to walk around and ask for autographs, and Bridget must’ve seen my eyes following everyone in the room.
“Want me to snag some autographs for you?” she asked.
“No, I do not,” I said. “That would be rude.”
“Oh, I know you do. I mean, the recent Emmy winners are here! Come on, let’s get you some.”
“I don’t need them Bridget. I’m here with you, and I think I got something a little better than an autograph from the only person in this room that matters.”
Her eyes sparkled with my comment before she linked her arm with mine. We slowly walked around the room, and people I knew stopped her to talk. Every time she had an entry in the conversation, she introduced me.
Not as her bodyguard and not as her employee, but just as Thomas Jeffries.
I got to shake hands with more people I admired than I ever thought I would in my lifetime. Even though I’d guarded high-profile individuals before, I’d never been to an event where they were all in such close proximity at the same time. Lacey didn’t understand any of this now, but when she grew up, I could rub it in her face while she kept trying to convince me of how “uncool” I was.
“Care for a drink?” she asked.
“Just one,” I said. “I let Bernie go home for the night because he looked pretty tired, so I’m driving us home.”
“Poor Bernie,” she said. “Maybe that’s what I’ll do from now on, just have you drive me to late night events instead of him.”
“You have been running around a lot lately,” I said. “He’s probably just not used to it.”
We went over and took a seat near the wine bar at a small table in the corner. People came around and shook her hand, thanking her for her donation and giving her details on when the campaign would be shot. She talked with a few people I didn’t recognize during her first two glasses of wine, but when the third one was brought to her, she decided she wanted to be left alone.
“You have my number,” she said. “Just give me a call in the morning.”
“Will do, Miss Meyers, will do. And thank you again for everything. Really.”
“It’s not a problem, I promise,” she said.
I was impressed with how well she was holding her own. She didn’t seem like the bubbly, bombastic little girl she portrayed when she was running around in the streets with her friends. She really knew how to tuck away that side of her when it was necessary, and it only made the dress she was wearing shine on her even more.
But then, after her fourth glass of wine, a massive yawn peeled from between her lips.
“You ready to head out?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said.
I let her lean up against me, and I got her out to the car. I laid her down in the backseat and made sure she was all right before I hopped into the driver’s seat. I started the drive home with the navigation on quietly in the background. Every once in a while, I could hear her murmuring to herself, and I had to bite back a laugh at how silly she looked back there. Here she was, this beautiful actress with a heart of gold, in this dress that cost thousands of dollars, and she was murmuring to herself with her eyes half-lidded in a drunken haze.
“You all right back there?” I asked.
“Uh huh,” she said.
We pulled up to her home, and I ran to unlock the door before I helped her out of the car. I scooped her up into my arms and walked her through the threshold of her own home. Then I started up the stairs to her room. There was no way she was getting out of this dress tonight, but I figured I could help her out of her jewelry and shoes before I tucked her in for the night.
She needed to sleep the wine off, and I needed to get home and get some sleep before Lacey had me up in the morning.
I opened her door and laid her down onto her bed. She stumbled trying to sit up. I helped her lean up and slowly unhooked her necklace, and her forehead flopped forward and landed onto my chest. I worked her earrings out of her ears before I laid her back onto the bed, and for a second there, I thought she’d fallen asleep.
But instead of snoring, she was mumbling.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I said, I want you to fuck me.”
“I’m not gonna do that,” I said. “Not tonight.”
I took off her shoes and threw them into the corner before I got up and put her jewelry onto her nightstand. She struggled to get underneath the covers with her dress getting in the way, and when I came over to help her, she grabbed onto my wrist.
“I really want you to fuck me,” she said. Her eyes were glazed over from the alcohol,
and my dick twitched at her words, but I wasn’t going to touch her in the state she was in, much less stick my dick in her.
“You’re way too drunk, and I don’t roll that way. Now, head up.”
I tucked a pillow underneath her head before I smoothed the hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful, relaxed by the alcohol and overtaken with exhaustion. Maybe tonight, she would actually get a decent night’s sleep and feel rejuvenated like a woman deserved to feel.
When I figured she was asleep, I pressed a small kiss to her forehead. She shifted and brought the comforter up to her chin, her breaths evening out and her legs curling up into her body. How I wished I could crawl into bed with her and hold her through the night, but I had to get home.
I had to get back to my real life.
“Good night, Bridget,” I said as I walked to the door. I turned off her light and put my hand on the doorknob. Then a phrase that confused me slipped from between her lips.
“It’s Kimberly,” she said.
“What was that?” I asked.
“My name’s Kimberly Moore,” she said with a sigh.
She was much more drunk than I thought she was. I shook my head and shut the door behind me, but her statement stuck with me as I made my way back down the stairs. I knew she had a secret, and it was a secret that threatened to unravel everything she had worked for. The nervous ticks, the sleepless nights, and the nightmare that caused her to roll completely out of bed.
