Chapter 6
Bridger
Time seemed to be moving on so much slower since Juliette came back into my life. Or since I came back into hers. Either way, the hours dragged on, and every minute reminded me of her.
Last night had been restless. All I saw were visions of Juliette. Her arms around me, her lips on mine, our bodies pressed together. And now there I was, lying in bed as the sun poured in through my window with a mind that wouldn’t let me forget her.
I supposed it was my fault for barging back into her place, but I just couldn’t help myself, and honestly, it was so much better seeing her during the day.
In the light. When there was nothing and no one to distract me or get in the way.
No time limit, no mask, no husband that couldn’t knock her up.
That pathetic old fuck probably needed to pop pills just to get his dick hard.
But Juliette was so much more beautiful than I remembered.
It wasn’t fair that she looked even better than all those years ago.
She still had those full lips and that perfect curve of her hips and silky, chocolate brown hair that never had a strand out of place.
Those eyes too. Hazel eyes. A perfect blend of gold and green that I used to spend hours looking into.
Forcing myself out of bed, I groaned and moved over to the bathroom so I could jump into the shower.
The warm water hit me, and for a second, I thought I could escape her.
I thought I could go a minute without obsessing over Juliette Ashford, but no, there she was again, right there in my mind, clear as day like it was yesterday.
A smirk tugged at my lips when I remembered something in particular about yesterday’s events.
The little fun fact I had found out. Her husband couldn’t get the job done, and there was just something about that piece of information that I took so, so much joy in.
Those pills he shoved down his throat weren’t gonna work.
No way. But I knew I could do it. All I had to do was come in her once to seal the deal. Just like old times.
And there were a lot of those times. I could envision every one of our moments together.
Her in my bed, in the backseat of my car, her on my lap as she rode me.
Our first time. Our last time. Me in her bed, one hand pressed to her mouth to keep her parents from hearing all her sweet little cries.
Us on some drive, her hand on my thigh, her not able to control herself, me bending her over the hood of my car and taking her and filling her as she whimpered out my name. It always sounded so good on her lips.
My fingers crept down more and more until I got to my cock, and all it took was one squeeze for me to groan.
I moved down to the base then back to the tip where I swiped a thumb across the swollen head.
I hissed when I felt pre-cum there and I pumped my hand faster, imagining me sinking deep into Juliette’s pussy.
She used to take me so damn well. I bet she still would.
I’d slide into her, fill her right up so that I was balls deep, so that she was feeling every single inch of me.
I’d fuck her the way she used to like me fucking her: deep and slow, the feeling lingering, her legs wrapped around me as I pushed in and out of her.
I imagined Juliette there in the shower with me, her pressed to the tiles.
I’d be able to pick her up with ease, keeping her to the wall, holding her safe and steady as I pumped her full of cock, whispering all of those filthy things in her ear that she used to love—the things all those rich, spoiled assholes she was surrounded with wouldn’t dare to let slip from their mouths.
There was some appeal to that when we were together.
She had been the sweet, precious, private school girl who spent her weekends at the country club with Ivy League trust fund babies who wore their sweaters tied around their shoulders.
I had been the delinquent, the criminal.
The boy who stole and got into fights and lived in the bad part of town and wore clothes with more rips in them than I could count. I was everything she wasn’t used to.
All those prim and proper, lacrosse playing assholes never impressed her, though. It was me who she had chosen five years ago. We weren’t supposed to cross paths, but when we did, it was more than sparks. More than the brightest, burning fire.
I couldn’t deny that I still thought she was beautiful. That she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Perfect from top to bottom and my hands were aching to feel her, to hold her tight, to fill her up with cum and get her pregnant like her pathetic bitch of a husband couldn’t.
One go. That was all it would take. I’d take her pussy bare, not a single thing in the way.
I’d fuck her deep and hard, her whines in my ear, my name on her lips.
I’d hold her right there against me as I fucked her and took her and made her all mine, my thick cock stretching her out the way it used to.
And she’d always take me so good. She’d get so damn wet, soaking my cock, drenching every inch.
I wondered what it’d be like to feel that again.
To sink into that perfect, tight pussy. To fill her up. To have her come on my cock.
It was with one more tug that I was losing all control, and it was to the thought of me emptying myself right there inside of her.
There she was in my head, stuffed with cock and cum, her eyes fluttering shut as a lazy, satisfied smile graced her face because she knew that I had got the job done, that I had just done what her pathetic husband hadn’t been able to.
Guy had probably been trying to knock her up for years, but I knew all I needed was one chance to have her swollen with my baby in her belly.
Maybe in another lifetime.
* * *
I always got nervous when my mom called. She was the one who first called me when Dad got into his accident, and deep down, my mind always went back to that day when my phone rang and her name popped up.
Wasting barely a second, I answered the phone, pressing it to my ear. My hair was still wet from the shower, in nothing but my boxers as I threw my towel to the bed.
“Mom?” I answered.
“God, you always pick up fast.” She laughed. “It’s like your phone is glued to your ear.”
“Something like that,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, silly. I was just calling to talk to you. Not every phone call is bad news, you know?”
“Is he panicking again?” I heard Dad call out in the background. “Tell him to take it easy for once!”
“You heard him,” said Mom.
I laughed, relief washing over me as I sat down at the edge of the bed.
I was supposed to be leaving soon since I’d have a busy day ahead of me.
Bennett had been right about me being too slow to sell all the shit we had stolen, so I needed to get that out of the way before it turned into a problem.
But until then, I could make time for my mom. I always would.
“We’re the ones who are meant to worry about you, remember?” Mom said.
“We can take turns,” I said. “How’s the weather there?”
“Oh, you know it’s perfect.” Mom sighed. “I really wish you’d move out of that city and come down here. It’d be so nice to have you living closer…”
Guilt struck me in the chest. It would have been good to see them more than once or twice every few months, but the only reason they were able to live in that house they had was because of the city.
People in Chicago were just too easy to rob, and almost all the money I earned from our jobs went to their house in North Carolina.
It had always been their dream to live out there, to get out of the city and chase the freedom of the clean countryside air.
It had been all they wanted even before the accident, and I knew they wanted it even more after.
Me getting carted off to prison didn’t exactly help with turning that dream into a reality.
That house had started off as a simple ranch home, but with enough renovations, it had become everything they had ever fantasized about.
The big, wraparound porch that made it easy for Dad to move around, so he could see the sunrise and the sunset properly and not from behind the little windows in our South Side home.
The garden at the back where Mom got to grow all her own fruits and vegetables, something she had always been into, and I knew Dad loved eating all that stuff too.
The spacious rooms and doorways so Dad could get around without bumping into things all the time like in our old, cramped home.
Living your dream wasn’t cheap, and all those renovations to make the home more suitable for Dad weren’t either. I had never cared, though. If I had to pay that house off the rest of my life, so be it.
It had been a little while since I had visited. I had been thinking about heading on down to see them a couple weeks ago, but now it felt like something else was anchoring me to Chicago. Juliette was pulling at me whether I wanted her to or not.
“You want me to move in?” I asked. “Is that what you’re saying? Because once I move in, you’ll never get rid of me…”
She laughed at that. “I’d be over the moon if you moved back in.”
“Nah, you’d get sick of me.”
“Impossible. How’s work been? Have you been busy?”
“Uh…” I pushed a hand through my wet hair.
They knew about the parlor and had always assumed all that money I used to pay off the house was coming from that—and thanks to a little money laundering, it was—but my real job?
That wasn’t something they needed to know.
“Yeah, you know how it is. Busiest damn parlor in the city…”
“I don’t know how you stay in that place. All those needles and blood. Ugh.”
“Sounds fun!” Dad said in the distance.
I snorted. “You get used to it. One day you need to visit so Chase can give you a tattoo or two.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Mom scolded. “Just because you’re covered in tattoos doesn’t mean I want to be. I guess you get that trait from your father.”
“He only has two.”
“And both are hideous,” she murmured. “And there you are covered head to toe in them.”
My eyes flickered down to one of my arms, my skin showing me a blanket of ink. My newest one was done by Chase: a cloaked, looming skull surrounded by rays of sun across its head.
“Just arms and hands,” I said lowly, flexing my fingers as I eyed the ink there too. A coiled snake, the tail starting at my pinky finger and its body all stretched out, the head there at my thumb.
“Don’t remind me. Anyway, I wanted to check up on you. How has everything been? Anything new happening your way?”
My mind got stuck on Juliette the second she said that, brows raised as I paused for a moment.
I debated mentioning her. Hey, guess who I bumped into at the grocery store the other day—just to see what her reaction would be.
Mom and Dad both harbored a little grudge against Juliette after everything that had gone down.
Their son being sent to prison for two years wasn’t something they could forgive, and that letter where she had torn my heart to fucking shreds was just the cherry on top.
“No updates from me,” I said. “Just dealing with work.”
“You’re so busy all the time. Look at you looking after us when it should be the other way around…”
“Mom.” I groaned. “You know I don’t mind. You always wanted that house down in North Carolina. You’re both happy. That’s all I want.”
“You’re too sweet to us.”
“Come on. What’s happening with you guys?”
“Your father has a new physio. She’s so lovely,” she said. “You know Dr. Crosby retired last month, but his new one, Dr. Reddy, is so sweet and helpful.”
That was another reason why sneaking into the homes of the wealthy had become one of my favorite hobbies.
The medical bills just kept adding up. There were the checkups, the physio appointments, the new equipment, the exercise gear, the medication for his chronic pain.
That was just the tip of the ever-growing iceberg.
“That’s great, Mom,” I said. “She sounds helpful.”
“She is! She’s introduced us to a lot of new exercises. Your father’s having a great time. He’s getting so strong.”
I chuckled. “When I’m down there next, I’ll arm wrestle him.”
“And I’ll beat ya!” Dad called out.
“You two.” Mom let out a little laugh. “I’ll let you go now, Bridger. Take care, okay?”
“I always do, Mom.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too. You too, Dad. Talk to ya later.”
Silence filled up the room when the call ended.
For a minute, it was just me and the hum of the city outside my window, and I felt good.
Better. Grounded. Talking to them always did that to me and reminded me that everything I had done had been for the right reasons.
Their house and their garden and the porch Dad could move around on and see the sky and sun. They had a life now. A good one.
But I wasn’t truly grounded.
Not after seeing Juliette.
I dragged a hand down my face, the heat from the shower still clinging to my skin.
I should have forced myself to forget her.
Should have pretended like that house we broke into didn’t have the love of my life in there, in that bedroom, with him.
With her pussy husband that I should have just killed right then and there.
I was trying to move past it and her, but now I was here, dripping with the memory of her.
Of what we used to be. Of what I still wanted us to be.
When I was eighteen, dumb as hell but so damn in love with no one else but Juliette Ashford.
I should have always known that I’d never be able to stay away from her.