Chapter 29 #2
I wrapped my arms around him, letting my head rest there on one of his broad shoulders. I fit up against him so well. Like in his arms was home. It made me press up against him tighter.
My eyes slowly fluttered open, gaze landing on something he had over in the corner. Something leaning against the side of the TV cabinet. That bag. The pink one. The Chanel one. My one.
“I thought you would have sold that by now,” I said.
“Hm?” Bridger pulled away from me and looked over his shoulder. “Oh. I kinda forgot about that.”
“You kept it?”
“Only took it off you ‘cause you wanted it so bad,” he said, a sheepish smile growing on his face as he looked back at me. “My bad. You can have it back. It’s all yours.”
“I’m guessing you looked inside it. That was… That was kinda all I had, you know?” I said, fingers plucking at the material of his shirt. “That’s the only reason I wanted it so bad. Why I didn’t want you to take it.”
Brows furrowed, he shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“That money,” I said lowly even though we were alone. Even though Gordon was dead. “I was saving it up so I could leave. I know it wasn’t enough. Not enough to last forever, but it was enough to get me some sort of fresh start.”
Bridger didn’t blink. He just looked at me, eyebrows still pulled together. It took him a long moment to stand up and move over to the bag, unzipping it with a hasty hand. He hissed, standing there by the TV.
“Juliette…” His eyes flickered up to mine. “How much is in here?”
“Five thousand,” I whispered. “Almost.”
“You…” His eyes shut tightly. “Wait… I… Fuck, baby, I didn’t know. You think I would have taken this if you had told me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… I couldn’t, Bridger,” I said, fingers gripping at the edge of the couch.
“He didn’t know about that money. I wasn’t allowed to have money.
No cash, no bank account, no credit card.
All that in there is money I found. Notes in his pockets, cash from tips, coins I found on the ground.
He had no clue about it. Once I hit five thousand, I was going to take it and run. ”
Bridger held the bag in one hand, the other pushing back his messy locks. “No wonder you didn’t want to let it go. I’m so sorry, Juliette. Christ, baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”
I shot him a little smile. “It’s not your fault.”
“If you had just told me…” He winced. “You couldn’t tell me. And I went and fucking… Fuck, I just took it. I just… Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I did that to you. That I hurt you like that.”
“You didn’t know, Bridger.”
“I should have looked in the bag. I brought it home and just… If I had looked, I would have seen the cash, I would have connected the dots, I would have given it back to you. I would have helped you. You know that, right, Juliette? I would have helped you. God, even before we both found out the truth, even when…” He let out a shuddered breath.
“Even when things were bad between us, I still would have helped you. There was no way I wouldn’t have helped keep you safe. ”
I stood up, approaching him with slow steps. I could see it in his eyes. That guilt, that regret. It wasn’t his fault. My hands landed on either side of his face, hoping that would steady him.
“I’m not mad,” I said.
“You should be,” he muttered. “Fuck, you should call the cops right now and rat.”
My head shook. “Never. Never in a million years. I love you, Bridger.”
“I love you too, baby, just… God, I can’t believe I did that to you. You must have been so scared,” he said, dropping the bag to the floor and sliding his fingers through my hair. “I made it harder. I didn’t wanna make it harder for you, baby.”
“You saved me,” I said.
“I should have saved you the first night I saw you,” he said, voice firm. “I’m sorry.”
“You still saved me.”
“I should have saved you sooner.”
“Bridger…” I sighed. “I’m here. Safe. Sound. With you. You saved me. You came for me. You got me out of there. You made sure I got out.”
He rested his forehead to mine and let out a ragged breath. “I should have known. I should have realized. The way you were clinging on to that bag… Juliette, that’s yours. You take that money. You earned every cent. Take it, have it, use it. Please take it.”
My fingers brushed against the sides of his face. “You didn’t know. It’s okay. You didn’t know, Bridger. You’re the one who saved me.”
“My strong girl,” he said, one of his thumbs ghosting along my bottom lip. “Look at you. My tough fucking girl. You would have gotten out without me. I know you would have. You would have made it, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I fucked up and did that to you.”
I didn’t know who closed the gap. Me or him, maybe the both of us, but a second later his hands were on my hips as he picked me up, my legs wrapping around him and his tongue in my mouth, and I was so in love.
I belonged to Bridger Underwood. He belonged to me.
I felt that in the way he kissed me and held me, the way his fingers clung to me like he couldn’t get enough of me, the way he murmured out my name when our lips pulled apart for the quickest of seconds so we could catch our breaths.
With complete ease, he held me to him, my legs tight around him as he guided me away from the lounge and into another room.
He was gently laying me down on something.
His bed. It had been so long since I was last in his bed.
Bridger was hovering over me, blue eyes dark as he reached down to push some strands of hair away from my eyes.
“Bridger,” I let out, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Need you so bad. Need you inside me.”
He groaned and kissed at me hard and fast, his hands planted to the space either side of my head as his tongue pushed into my mouth.
His fingers tugged my dress off, then my bra and panties, and then I was left all bare and exposed, my cheeks hot as his eyes moved up and down my body even though he had seen me like this a million times before.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Juliette, Christ. Can’t believe how beautiful you are sometimes.”
I felt his thumb rub at my nipple while his other hand snaked between my thighs, his skilled finger there on my clit as he rubbed.
My eyes closed, pleasure taking over as Bridger slipped his tongue into my mouth.
I could feel him. All of him. His hard length pressing into me behind his jeans and his finger that knew exactly how to circle at my clit, how to rub at me, how to bring that bliss right to me.
I was getting lost in the feeling of him, his finger pushing down against my swollen clit that little bit harder, and it was more than enough to push me right over the edge.
“So fuckin’ pretty when you come for me,” Bridger said. “Fuck, need you to do that on my cock. Can you do that for me, princess? Can you come on my cock for me?”
I gave him a whine in response, a soft smile gracing his face as he pulled off his own clothes. My eyes caught sight of his length and I couldn’t help but moan. All thick and long, the tip swollen and pink and glistening with pre-cum. So big, so perfect, all mine.
“Bridger,” I whimpered, eyes stuck on his length. “Mm, please. Want it. Want it so, so bad.”
He grunted and pecked my lips, his hand on his bare length as he ran the tip along my slit. I shuddered when the swollen head grazed along my sensitive clit, and then I felt him up against my entrance.
His eyes found mine as he pressed himself to me, thick and hard and so, so big. I nodded, and then I was feeling him, a gasp falling from my lips as he gave me just an inch of him, then another, then one more, and when I looked down, I realized that there was so much more to go.
“Juliette,” he muttered above me. “You feel so good, baby. You feel so fuckin’ good.”
My name was on his lips before he kissed at me, tongue dancing with mine as he kept pushing into me with swift but gentle thrusts.
I felt so full. So stretched out in the best way possible.
I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in deeper, making sure he was giving me those last few extra inches until I was filled to the brim with him.
My head rolled back against the pillows as I let that feeling take over.
That too full, too stuffed feeling that had me seeing stars.
“Juliette,” he said, teeth gritted. “Christ, honey, you’ve got every fuckin’ inch of my cock inside you. Every inch. Does that feel good? Hm? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
Biting into my bottom lip, I nodded. “Mm. So… So good… So good, please. Please, please, please.”
Hissing, Bridger pulled out and pushed back in. My hands grasped his biceps as he took me, his forehead up against mine and my breasts pressed to his chest and our eyes locked as he just slid in and out, in and out.
God, I could feel all of him. I could feel how wet I was too, how much I was aching for it. For him, all of him, every part. There had been so many years without him, so many lost moments. Never again.
That spot between my thighs was far too wet as I took every inch of him with ease. Our eyes stayed locked as he made me his, pumping in and out of me, his blue eyes taken over by whatever darkness and hunger and fire he was feeling. I was feeling it too.
He was throbbing inside of me, his length all bare and the veins rubbing up against me, that heated pleasure increasing. And then his swollen tip hit that spot deep inside of me and I was gasping under him.
“Mm, I still remember how to make you cry out like that,” he said. “Again, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me. Want you to come on my cock like a good girl. Are you my good girl?”