He knows it.
Meeting Bridger feels like it was always supposed to happen. But that doesn’t mean my future will be any different from the one expected of me. My father made his expectations known to me today. While I might be willing to go out on a limb and spend a night out with Tasha, am I brave enough to defy my father?
If I did, everything I know, including the family I have, would be ripped away from me.
While I hate the idea of marrying Eric, I don’t feel like I have much of a choice. It’s been decided.
The only good thing is I have six months to come to terms with things. Hopefully, Eric won’t have any expectations for that time. The thought of getting to know him better makes my skincrawl.
He’s not a good man. The only positive thing I can say is that he’s a good lawyer. Unfortunately, it’s not a ringing endorsement of the man he is.
Not even a little bit.
And, really, it might be a stretch to say he’s a good lawyer. He wins a lot of his cases. The way he practices law makes it clear that his father, and mine, are his mentors. On more than one occasion I’ve heard him referred to as cutthroat, and when we’re talking about corporate law, it matters.
It’s not the type of law I wanted to practice when I was in law school. I wanted to help people who didn’t have the means to help themselves. But I knew it was never going to happen because my father would never allow it.
Now I don’t even practice law.
All of those thoughts and worries, the things clinging to me like sludge, fall away the moment I walk into the hotel room. Bridger closes the door and spins us, pressing me against the door and caging me in with his forearms on either side of my head.
He’s taller than I am and has to bend his knees slightly to meet my gaze. His eyes race between mine.
“You want this?” His voice is gruff and filled with need.
When my hands slide up his chest, he shudders. I love the way he reacts to my touch. Even though his shoulders are broad, he’s not all hard muscular plains. There’s a softness to his body and it makes me want to snuggle up to him. But I also want to climb him like a tree and wrap my legs around him as he pounds into me.
“Yes,” I moan, my panting breaths making my chest heave and brush against his. “I want you, Bridger.”
I see the moment his control snaps. He swoops down and slams his mouth against mine. The kiss is all lips, teeth, and pure fucking fire. Pleasure washes over me and my skin heats while my toes curl. The grunt he lets out when I press my body against his is sexy as fuck.
How much he wants me is obvious from the ridge of his hard cock as it presses against my belly. The realization of what I do to him, how I affect him, has me gasping against his lips.
Bridger takes the opportunity and runs with it. His tongue invades my mouth and explores. There isn’t a corner of my mouth left untouched, and the way he groans as he tastes me has my pussy clenching around nothing.
I’ve been attracted to men before, but this is something new. The fire between us flared into life instantly and burns brighter and hotter than anything I’ve experienced with another person. Even now, with our bodies pressed against each other and his lips on mine, it feels like I can’t get enough.
Can’t get close enough.
Can’t savor the taste of whiskey on his tongue enough.
Can’t run my fingers through his hair enough.
When my touch moves from his hair, which is longer on top than the sides, and down over his jaw to his beard, something in Bridger snaps. His large hands reach around my body and grip my ass. He lifts me effortlessly and I gasp at the movement.
I cling to him as he moves us away from the door and toward the bed. I’ve never had a one-night stand before, not like this, and certainly not in a hotel room. It would make me feel alittle dirty, but something about Bridger washes all my fears and doubts away.
He makes me feel seen and appreciated.
My back arches as he lays me out on the bed, my body wanting to keep in contact with his for as long as possible. The hard peaks of my nipples strain with the need to be teased and touched. Fuck, my entire body needs it; needs him.
“Bridger,” I moan, the sound wanton in a way I’ve never heard from myself before.
“I’ve got you, Avery,” he murmurs against my lips.
And I believe him.
When he sits back, his lips leaving mine and making me cold from the loss of him, his dark brown eyes rake over my body and take me in. I’m sure my hair looks wild, and my eyes look glassy. Can he see the way my heart is pounding from the pulse in my neck?
