Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge (No Strings Attached #1)

1. Lucia

Chapter 1

Lucia

The envelope feels heavy in my hands, like it’s weighed down by the dollar amount I know it contains.

You see, I already know what’s inside. Still, I stare at it, wishing it would disappear, but I know it never will.

I’ll have to open it and face the harsh reality of my finances—or serious lack of—and with a deep breath, I tear open the seal and pull out the statement. My eyes immediately land on the bold, glaring number:

One hundred and two thousand dollars.

“Fuck! I’m sure it’s more than last year,” I groan, tossing the letter onto the coffee table in frustration. “How the hell am I ever going to pay this off and live?”

My roommate, Amelia, looks up from her laptop, brow furrowed with concern. “What’s happened, Luce?”

“My student loan bill.” I run a hand through my tangled hair. “It’s over a hundred grand. I’ll be paying this off until I’m fifty.”

Amelia winces sympathetically. “Ouch. That’s rough.” She reaches over and gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Sorry Luce. Can your dad help?”

I shake my head. “I’m an adult now.” Letting out a humorless laugh, I add, “I have to stand on my own two feet,” I parrot what my father told me and sigh. “Maybe I should have just skipped law school and worked at Walmart. At least then I’d be debt-free.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Amelia shifts closer, her hazel eyes intense. “You’re an amazing lawyer. You work your ass off and you’re so good at what you do. This debt is just a temporary setback, okay? You’ll figure it out.”

I want to believe her, but the weight of my financial burdens feels suffocating. “Easy for you to say. Your dad paid off your loans.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Amelia’s face falls slightly, and guilt washes over me. How could I even consider being jealous after what her father offered me two months ago?

The “arrangement” he suggested would solve all my financial problems, but it would destroy Amelia if she ever found out. I could never hurt my best friend like that, no matter how desperate I am.

And I’m not sure I can be the one to satisfy her father.

“I know, and I’m so grateful for that.” Amelia’s gaze drops to her lap. “But things aren’t exactly perfect for me either. Garrett and I...we’ve been fighting a lot lately. I’m not sure if he’s being faithful to me. And then I don’t actually earn anything from being an influencer. Yes, I get nice things sent to me, but they don’t pay the bills.”

Good job you have a trust fund. I keep that to myself. Amelia doesn’t know how good she has it.

Yet, my heart sinks for my friend. Not for the trust fund but she has been through so much heartbreak already. She’s just lost her grandmother and now her boyfriend is cheating. “I’m sorry, Amelia. What a mess we’re both in, huh?”

“Tell me about it.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “At least we’ve got each other, right? Do you want to go for a drink tonight?”

I glance back at the statement on the table, that six-figure sum screaming at me. One hundred and two thousand reasons to stay in and save like crazy.

Who am I kidding?

And then there’s the same amount of reasons to consider the unthinkable. I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of impossible choices pressing down on me.

I manage a thin smile. “Yeah. We can get miserably drunk.”

My head is still bouncing from the alcohol I consumed in my despair last night. And I’m grateful that my office is private and I can wallow in my own misery.

I stand, shifting on my feet while I glance at the white walls, then at the corkboard pinned with family photos.

My parents.

My sister with her new husband. And his father standing proudly beside him. The glow of the morning sun spreads over them from the closest window.

My belly rumbles and I check my watch. Nearly time for lunch, though I can barely afford it.

When I have days like today, I wish I had the nerve to follow my friend Violet. Join the website she’s on and find myself a discreet sugar daddy. Someone who can make it all disappear.

I thought I was an independent, can-do-it-all person. I am . But it doesn’t stop me from wanting someone to do it all for me.

Being a lawyer, you’d think I had it all worked out. I did once. When I was younger, I had this expectation–no, I’d assumed–being on a high five-figure salary, that I’d be eating lobster for lunch and traveling the world on my weeks off.

I never banked on how much money I’d owe, or that the average law student can take twenty years to repay their student debt. At this rate, my name is going to be added to that statistic.

My phone rings. I check my watch once more, then I answer it.

“Lucia speaking.”

“Do you have time to fit in Mr. Bridge before lunch? He has some documents for you to look over.”

My breath catches in my lungs as I stare at the door.

“Lucia?”

“Yeah. Send him down.”

Minutes later, the door opens. Mr. Bridge stares at me and smiles. “Miss Simmons.”

“Hello, Mr. Bridge.”

His voice is low and sexy when he replies, “I’d ask you to call me Ronan, but there is something about the way you say Mr. Bridge I cannot stop thinking about.”

Our eyes lock as I take a seat behind my desk. I have to, so he doesn’t see me squeezing my thighs together at his deliciously low tone.

“Please take a seat,” I mumble before I straighten my backbone, just after finding it again. “How can I help you today?”

He lingers for a moment. Just staring as I look over at him. I can’t deny that I find him gorgeous. His dark hair has strands of silver just above his ears. That silver seems to match the color of his eyes.

He is very good-looking for a man in his early forties. A man fifteen years my senior, I must add. A man whose offer I turned down, yet I know he is still waiting for me to accept.

I never turned it down because of his age. Nor because my father is one of his golfing buddies. Or because I live with his daughter. I certainly didn’t turn it down because Mr. Bridge is my sister’s father-in-law. The man whose photo I’d just stared at as he stood next to my brother-in-law.

I turned it down because despite my debt growing week after week, I cannot sell…

I can’t even finish the sentence, despite what I told him in Florida months ago.

“Amelia was telling me you’ve split up with your boyfriend.”

I nod, wondering why she told him—probably to stop talking about her own love life. “He cheated on me. I was hardly going to stay.”

“Good.”

I laugh, but I’m not sure why I find it funny. “Why is that?”

“It’ll give you the time to reconsider my offer as a single woman.”

I tilt my chin up and glare at him, still standing with his large hands on the back of the chair in front of me.

He’s waiting for my response.

A pleasant heat spills through my limbs and makes its way to my belly. “I didn’t say no because I was in a relationship,” I finally reply.

He pulls out the chair and sits opposite me. His gray eyes are on mine for a few seconds before I look away.

“Why did you?” he asks. “My age?”

I shake my head.

“Well?” he asks.

“Erm!”

How did we go from avoiding each other for months to this?

“So.” Amusement dances in his eyes, crinkling the edges. “Why did you turn down over one hundred thousand dollars? Every cent of your student debt would be wiped away. What would that help you do?”

Travel to Europe. See some art galleries and museums. Or the sensible thing would be to rent an apartment by myself, so I don’t have to share.

So, so many things.

“Why me?” I ask the question that’s been lingering on my tongue for months.

His presence fills the room as I wait for his answer. Just looking at him is taking my air. It must be because my chest is rising and falling so rapidly you’d think I was struggling to breathe.

“I find you fascinating. You’re powerful, but I know you want someone to take that power.”

I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “That’s a very incorrect observation. I’m far from powerful, yet crave it.”

All traces of emotion are gone from his face. “You’re mistaken. That’s what is expected of you. Your sister went into the modeling world and you are now expected as the elder sister to be the academic one. The child your father rests all his expectations upon.”

“He just wants his children to be happy.”

“Are you?”

My heart stutters in my chest. Am I?

His head tilts as he draws out my name. “Answer me, Lucia?”

My thighs squeeze together at his tone.

“Yes, Mr. Bridge.”

The corner of his mouth curls like he’s entertained by my answer, or because he knows how he affects me.

“What?” I ask, my tone defensive.

“Nothing.” He stands and walks to the door, resting his back against it.

I laugh. “Did you forget the paperwork I need to look over?”

He doesn’t answer at first. He keeps staring at me as one foot lifts and rests on the door and his hand reaches into his inside jacket pocket.

Behind my desk—the place I feel worthy—I try to slow my rapid heart beat but until he leaves the office, I know I won’t succeed.

I’m intimidated by Mr. Bridge, but also intrigued in equal measure, and when he pushes off the door and steps forward, holding out the paperwork for me, I freeze for a moment.

I reach out to take the paperwork. Our fingers brush and electricity zips from his touch to the end of my toes, and then it flies back up to the apex of my thighs.

My God, this man.

“It’s my sexual needs.”

“What?”

“What I like. What I want you to know before you sign.”

I shake my head, laughing. “I never agreed to this.”

“You will.”

My eyebrow lifts. “I will?” I open the document as he comes and stands behind me. His presence is too much to bear. Still, I read the short list.

“I have to give you my power.”

“Entirely.”

“And apart from money, what do I get?”

“Everything and anything you want,” he says. “I guarantee it.”

I glance over my shoulder, our gazes catch, and in that moment I want to accept. Never has a man pursued in such a way. If it wasn’t for the elephant in the room, I’m sure I would agree to his proposal right now. “You can’t guarantee anything.”

“If I hurt you, I’ll pay off your debts and give you one million dollars.”

I swallow.

He continues, “But if we both agree to stick to the rules, neither of us will get hurt.”

“Rules?”

He leans low as his hand rests between my shoulder blades. His mouth is so close to my skin. Goosebumps scatter. “This isn’t a relationship. There will be no kissing.”

“Oh.”

“Or discussing us with anyone else?”

I nod. “That’s fine.”

“Your body belongs to me. You only orgasm because I gave you it.”

My cheeks heat as his eyes darken.

I swallow. It’s like he thinks I’ve already agreed to this.

“The agreement is for four weeks, but I might get bored with you after two weeks. If I do, I’ll pay off your debt early.”

“Charming.”

A small smile is exchanged. “I can be.”

“I figured.”

He lifts an eyebrow, like he’s surprised by my response.

I turn and glance back at the paper he placed in front of me. He’s already signed it. He places his gold plated pen beside the document. ”Are you ready?”

I wrap my arms around my torso and shake my head. “I can’t do it. You’ll have to find someone else.”

His mouth rests on my ear. “Have you not realized yet that it cannot be anyone else?”

He takes the paper and strides to the door once again. His gaze shifts across my face like he sees me . “I am interested only in you.”

“Send me an email with the details,” I say at last.

Mr. Bridge swallows. “I’ve just shown you the details?”

“There must be more sexual preferences. Expectations in the bedroom, for instance?”

My heart is drumming to a quick beat. He pushes from the door, grabs the handle and opens it as he steps outside.

I’m waiting for him to say something…anything, but he walks away like somehow I’ve pissed him off.

I reach for my neck, to the place his thumb stroked over the skin at the top of my spine, and close my eyes as I imagine everything he wants to do to me.

And it’s the moment I realize I want him to.