Chapter 27
twenty-seven
. . .
Bridger
We’d been at the antique store for an hour, and Emilia was making small talk with not only the shop owner, but everyone who was in the store.
It was clear. She was in her element.
Surrounded by art and pieces with history.
I admired it.
But I knew she was devastated by her mother’s phone call. I was a dude who thought he had the world’s best mother, and this was the second time I’d heard the woman berate her daughter.
And I didn’t like it.
Emilia was good at pretending that she was okay. Probably something that she’d learned at a very young age.
I understood it more than I wanted to admit.
“So, you can ship all the items to us?” I asked as I handed her my credit card.
“Yes,” the woman behind the counter said. “I think your wife really loves the mantel.”
My wife?
I nodded and signed the slip, choosing not to correct her.
I glanced at Emilia as she stood there taking photos of the mantel and the three other pieces she’d chosen, all of which would be shipped to Rosewood River.
Her gaze moved, locking with mine, and she smiled.
And my fucking chest squeezed.
It was unexplainable the way it made me feel when she smiled.
It was unexplainable the way it made me feel when she was upset, the way she’d been in the car after speaking to her mother.
“You ready?” she asked, walking my way.
“Yes, the car’s outside. They’re going to ship everything out in the next few days.”
She nodded before saying goodbye to the store owner, whom she’d just hugged as if they were long-lost friends.
Once we were in the car and heading back to the hotel, I glanced over at her as she typed into her phone.
She dropped her phone back in her purse and looked up at me. “That was Beatrice. Everything is totally fine. My mom freaked out over nothing. She hasn’t even been in the store.”
“So she just calls you and treats you that way over nothing?”
“Pretty much,” she said, as if it were perfectly acceptable.
“Why don’t you tell her to fuck off?”
Her mouth fell open. I leaned forward and placed my hand beneath her chin, pushing it closed. “Just know that every time your mouth drops open, I imagine my dick in there.”
She slapped my hand away and shook her head with disbelief.
“First off, I can’t tell my mother to shut the fuck up, because she’s my mother.
Secondly, you shouldn’t be thinking that way when we agreed that it was a onetime thing.
We’re playing by your rules, buddy.” She poked me hard in the chest, and I wrapped my hand around her finger, catching it easily.
“Maybe if you stuck up for yourself, she’d stop being an asshole.” I looked at her and raised a brow. “And I’m not the one with all the rules. I never said it was a ‘onetime thing’—those were your words.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You don’t do relationships. You’ve made that very clear. Crystal clear, actually. So, we had filthy sex and all the orgasms, because that’s what you do.”
I had to laugh. This woman was fucking hilarious.
“I don’t do relationships. But it’s not like I don’t have sex with the same person more than once occasionally. We had a good time. We’re here for another two nights. There are no rules, Emilia.”
“So, I can do whatever I want with you while we’re in Paris?” Her lips twitched the slightest bit, and I saw her fighting back a smile.
“Why do you need to lock down a timeline? Can you not just go with it?” I asked.
She sighed. “I’ve always tied sex to something deeper. And I’m all about evolving and trying something new, but the timeline will help me keep things in perspective. Does that make sense?”
It was honest, and I could appreciate that.
“Okay. My cock is yours for the next forty-eight hours. But since you’re all about rules, I have one that I’d like to add.”
A wide smile spread across her pretty face. “Tell me.”
“You don’t kick my ass to the curb when I’ve barely pulled the condom off my cock.” I pursed my lips.
She tipped her head back in a full-bodied laugh. “I thought that was your thing? You know, a quick exit.”
“I’m usually dressed before exiting,” I said, my voice laced with humor.
“Okay, I can get on board with that one.”
“What would you like to do tonight? Do you want to go out, eat in?”
“What do you feel like doing?”
“Emilia,” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I meant it to. “I want you to tell me what you want.”
She studied me for a long moment, her tongue swiping along her bottom lip. “I’d love to get room service and stare at the Eiffel Tower and just chill tonight.”
Music to my ears.
“We can do that,” I said as we pulled up in front of the hotel.
We hurried inside as a cold gust of wind bustled around us, and a hotel employee held the door open as we stepped inside. I guided her through the lobby, my hand on her lower back. The woman at the front desk greeted us, and Emilia waved at her.
I, on the other hand, had zero interest in speaking to anyone but the woman beside me.
I was a man on a mission.
I wanted her upstairs and naked now.
Right fucking now.
When we stepped on the elevator and the doors closed, I didn’t hesitate.
I pressed her against the wall and dipped down and kissed her hard.
I’d been wanting to do it all day.
I’d thought about her during my meeting this morning, rushing that along so I could go meet her.
Emilia Taylor was consuming me, and this was not a familiar feeling.
But I always trusted my gut, and my gut was telling me to kiss her.
My large hand spread across the side of her neck, loving the way her pulse pounded against my palm.
Her lips parted, inviting me in. My tongue slipped inside, tangling with hers, all desperate and needy.
My dick was pure steel, raging against the zipper of my jeans.
When the doors opened, I did the most unexpected thing.
I reached beneath her ass and picked her up as her legs wrapped around my waist. Our mouths never lost contact as I moved us off the elevator and down the hallway to my suite.
When we arrived at the door, I pressed her back against the wall, reached in my back pocket for the key, and somehow maneuvered inside without losing contact.
I crossed the space to the bed and dropped her with a whoosh, and she laughed, her dark hair falling around her on the white bedding as her red lips turned up in a sexy smile. She kicked her black boots off and onto the floor.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, because once I had her clothes off, I knew I wouldn’t want to stop.
“I was, but now I’m—distracted.” Her cheeks flushed.
“How about I order us some food, I bury my face between your thighs as an appetizer while we wait, and then we’ll spend the rest of the night naked in bed.” I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for her to give me the green light.
She smiled, and her dark blue eyes locked with mine. “That sounds like a great evening.”
“Do you eat lobster?” I asked as I dialed the phone, and she nodded.
I placed an order for two lobster tails, a steak that we would share, a couple of salads, and a bottle of wine.
I wasted no time. The minute I set the phone down, I moved to the foot of the bed.
I tugged her down to the edge, reaching for the button and zipper of her jeans before pulling the denim down her legs and dropping them on the floor.
My fingers traced the waistband of her pink lace panties, and her eyes fell shut as her breaths came faster.
From just a touch.
I loved how fucking responsive she was.
“Such pretty pink panties, angel. Did you wear these for me?”
She smiled. “Maybe. I was hoping.”
“Ahhh… were you wanting me to touch you again?” I stroked her over the lace, and she groaned, her hands moving to my hair and urging me closer.
I stepped back, and her eyes flew open. I unbuckled my belt and tugged it off as she watched me.
“Do you trust me?” I asked, and she nodded.
“I’m going to tie your wrists together. Not being able to touch me will magnify how good this feels for you.” I climbed over her, pulling her arms over her head before wrapping the belt around her joined wrists several times. “Keep your hands here.”
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and her eyes were wild with desire.
I chuckled as I moved back down to the edge of the bed, dropping to my knees. I tugged her down a bit more and reached for the edge of her panties and tore them from her body. She gasped as I spread her legs wide, burying my face between her thighs.
Licking and sucking as she writhed and moaned.
My tongue slipped inside, gliding in and out.
She bucked wildly beneath me, and her thighs tightened around each side of my head as I moved faster.
I would bring her right to the edge, only to pull back and change the rhythm.
I wanted her begging for it.
Desperate and needy.
Her hips bucked wildly as she ground against me.
“Bridger,” she gasped. “Please.”
Music to my fucking ears.
My thumb found her clit as I continued fucking her with my tongue.
She cried out my name as she went over the edge.
Fuck me.
I couldn’t get enough of this woman.
And I had forty-eight hours to get her out of my system.
Emilia had just slipped into my robe when room service arrived. She looked sated and gorgeous, while I was doing my best to cover up the large erection currently tenting my jeans. I signed the bill and told the waiter that I’d take the food into the room.
My dick needed a minute to settle down.
I pulled the cart over to where the balcony was. We had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, which was all lit up at the moment.
She came to sit in the chair beside mine, and we dove in.
She sat with her body turned to face me instead of the gorgeous view, which made me chuckle internally.
I glanced down at her wrists where I’d tied the belt, and they were a little bit red. I used my thumb to trace over the sensitive skin. “Did you like that? Did you notice the difference?”
Her lips turned up in the corners, and her gaze found mine. “I had my first orgasm with a man last night. So it’s not like I have a ton to compare it to. But yes, it made the anticipation more intense for sure.”
I noticed that she didn’t dip her lobster into the dish of butter on the first few bites she’d taken, which was the best part. I cut off a piece and dipped it into the melted goodness. “Open your mouth and try this.”
She did as I asked, and I brought the fork to her mouth.
“Wow. That’s delicious.”
“Why weren’t you using the butter? It’s the best part.”
“Probably years of training from Margaret Taylor,” she said as she blew out a long breath. “My mom is very concerned about me gaining weight and always has been.”
“What? You have the most beautiful body.” This shit pissed me off. “Do you know how many times I got off to thoughts of this body before we’d even arrived?”
Her gaze softened. “I’ve worked hard not to let that stuff get in my head, but I guess her voice is still there most of the time.”
“We’re going to work on that.”
“It’s been a lifetime of feeling her disappointment, so I don’t think that can be fixed in forty-eight hours, lover boy. But the orgasms are a great distraction.”
What was her obsession with the timeline?
“Emilia, even when I’m not burying myself in you, we’ll still be working together. We won’t just stop speaking.”
Why did the thought of that bother me?
“So we’re going to be friends after all of this?”
“I don’t really seek out friends.” I shrugged. “But yes. For you, I’ll bend the rules.”
“Why would you bend the rules for me?” she asked as she reached for her glass of wine.
“Because you have a perfect pussy and a good eye for design.”
Wine spewed from her mouth, and she grabbed her napkin as I roared with laughter.
“You just say whatever you think, don’t you?” she asked.
“I speak the truth, angel.”
Because she did have a perfect pussy and a good eye for design.
And I appreciated them both.