Chapter 22
Their lips collided, and Vega’s body warmed, melting into the arms he wrapped around her.
Everything about this was wrong, and she knew it. She knew there were secrets Bridger was hiding, knew this wasn’t going to make anything better.
But gods, she was sick of fighting it! Sick of pretending her body didn’t crave his touch, his attention.
Maybe this was what needed to happen to allow them to move on with their lives—to put what they had in the past and learn what this new path looked like for them.
As good as it sounded, Vega knew it wasn’t true. They were bound by ties neither would ever fully understand.
Bridger’s tongue swiped over her bottom lip, begging her to open up to him.
Vega didn’t hesitate a second, letting Bridger devour her with the need of their pent up desire.
They didn’t need to find a rhythm, didn’t need to take their time figuring out what the other liked. They already knew.
A moan slipped from Vega’s throat, vibrating against Bridger’s lips.
His chest rattled, a groan sounding suspiciously like a growl sending a tingle of pleasure to her core.
Bridger’s hands slid down, getting a handful of her ass before he hiked her up and pinned her against the car, her legs wrapping around him. The metal might have been cold against her back, but she couldn’t tell with the nearly unbearable heat of Bridger’s touch.
He’d always been able to snag her up and move her to whatever position he’d wanted… and Vega had never said a single fucking word about it because why would she? What girl didn’t want to be thrown around and manhandled by someone who resembled Bridger?
Vega tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of his head. He removed his lips from hers, trailing feverish kisses down her neck.
Bridger ground into Vega’s spread legs with proof of his growing need pressing against her core. Pleasure burst through her like a nuclear explosion, feeding off the energy of their desire.
“Fuck me, please. I need you.” She hardly recognized her voice, forgetting everything but Bridger.
At any moment, Vega felt like she might wake up from this dream—beside another man, in another life.
It’s real. They were real.
It was wrong. What they were doing was wrong… but how could something she knew would send them into a spiral later feel so right in the moment?
Her words struck something inside Bridger. He grabbed her by the jaw and locked his dark stare on her, rolling his hips into her again.
Vega’s body tingled, and a moan left her wet lips. “Bridger.” She sighed, unable to look away from his lust-filled gaze, too afraid it would shatter the connection.
“We shouldn’t,” he warned, giving her the chance to back out.
Keep going.
The brand on her wrist tingled with the warmth of something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “Stop being a gentleman and fuck me, Dimico.”
Before she knew how it happened, Bridger had the door to the Escalade open, and she was on her ass, scooting across the down seats to give Bridger room to follow her in.
When he shut the door, it was as if they’d entered their own world. They didn’t think about the lights beaming into the dark woods in front of the car. They didn’t think about the doors being unlocked. They didn’t think about getting caught.
The only thing on either of their minds was this. Them. Us.
Vega wasn’t sure if that was her voice or someone else’s. She was too distracted by the depraved hunger on Bridger’s face as he crawled the short distance to her.
Gods, she might come just from the sight of him.
Bridger positioned himself over Vega, returning his lips to hers in a kiss somehow needier than the first.
His hand slid between her legs, pressing into the exact spot he was going for. No fumbling around, straight to the point.
Vega inhaled sharply as he rubbed her through her thin leggings, breaking their lips apart to lay her head back. Her eyes fluttered as pleasure pooled between her thighs.
“Soaked. Absolutely drenched,” Bridger said against her skin, kissing down her neck until her stupid lightning T-shirt got in the way. He sat back, pulling her with him, only to drop her on his lap.
Vega straddled him, grinding against the rock-hard erection hidden by his pants. It had been so long since they’d been together—but some things just couldn’t be forgotten.
Specifically, his size. She shivered as a flutter of pleasure shot through her.
Bridger ripped Vega’s shirt over her head, tossing it to the side, and with an ease that shouldn’t have surprised her, unclasped her bra with one hand while the other slid into the front of her leggings.
Bridger’s fingers slid between her slick lips and pressed into her clit.
“It fucking killed me to know you weren’t wearing anything under these. ”
When redressing in the motel, she hadn’t even thought about them.
Vega moaned, rolling her hips against the fingers he massaged her with slowly—so agonizingly slow.
Bridger’s free hand left goosebumps in its wake, grabbing her roughly by the back of the neck to force her to look into his eyes—and when she did, she was rewarded with two fingers slipping inside her.
Eye contact. Fuck him and his glorious eye contact.
“That’s my girl.” Bridger placed a kiss on her parted lips that felt too sweet for the intensity building between them.
“You have to give me one before I fuck you. You know the rules, baby.” He’d always made Vega come first, sometimes multiple times, before he even considered chasing his own release.
Half the fun of sex to Bridger had always been the control part—he loved knowing he was the one delivering each wave of euphoric pleasure, getting to watch as Vega succumbed to him completely.
It was the only place she’d ever given up full control to another person—in the bedroom with Bridger, where she knew he’d take care of her.
Where she knew she was safe.
His fingers slid in and out while his thumb circled her clit at a pace not a single man after him had ever figured out. He watched every muscle in her face tick like he’d perish if he missed a single second.
“Fuck.” Vega’s head fell back, and she pressed into his hand for added depth and friction.
Bridger unexpectedly pulled his fingers out, and Vega whined at the loss. She threw her head forward, catching the cocky half smile on his face that shouldn’t have been a turn on. He was fucking with her.
“You mother fuc—” She glared, but Bridger plunged his fingers back inside when she locked her eyes to his.
“Eyes on me.” Bridger slammed his lips to hers, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling away. “I want you to come knowing who made you fall apart.”
Bridger pumped his fingers again, grinding his palm against her sensitive bud.
Vega didn’t stand a chance. She wanted to talk back, to tell him to get fucked, but that was what she was trying to do, and she didn’t want to screw it up!
So for once in her life, Vega kept her sassy-ass comments to herself and—oh, who was she kidding?
She was consumed with ecstasy. There was no room left for snide remarks.
“Holy shit,” she mewled, raising up on her knees to sink back down when Bridger pressed deeper.
“Gods, you’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” Bridger gritted his teeth, leaning into her and taking a nipple in his mouth. He swirled the pebbled bud with his tongue, sucking gently before he switched to the other, using his teeth to roll it between his lips.
Vega was going to lose it. She was going to come too quickly. All she wanted was to live in this little bubble of pleasure, never letting it go.
Her nipples ached, turning cold without his warm mouth around them.
Bridger brushed over her parted lips with his thumb. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Gods. His voice was so deep she could feel it.
Vega’s hands wrapped around his wrist, pulling his strong grip to her throat.
After almost being killed by asphyxiation twice in three days, most wouldn’t even consider asking for it again… But Vega wasn’t most, and she trusted Bridger with this. He knew what he was doing. After all, he’d been the one to discover Vega’s love for rough sex in the first place.
But now more than ever, the pain accompanied with the pleasure reminded Vega she was alive.
Bridger’s eyes lit with the flame she’d been hoping for. “Oh, you want to see stars?” He tightened his grip slowly, waiting for Vega to answer.
A bearable rush of pain sent a visible chill down her spine.
“Yes,” Vega whimpered.
Bridger locked his massive hand under her jaw, and squeezed until she couldn’t find the extra air to moan.
As expected, he was careful not to put pressure where Chase’s hands had been. His hold was meant for something opposite of death.
Between the lack of oxygen, Bridger’s ravenous gaze, and the third finger he’d slid inside her, Vega took a tumble.
Catching the gleam in her eye, Bridger loosened his grip, giving her the air she needed to plummet into oblivion and become one with the fucking stars.
“That’s it. Come all over my fingers, baby.” Bridger’s voice was husky, and Vega wasn’t sure what the look in his eyes meant when hers were rolling into the back of her skull.
The walls of her pussy clenched Bridger’s fingers, her hips bucking as her orgasm racked through her body. “Bridger.” Her moan turned his name into a version with at least ten r’s.
He rubbed his thumb against her clit until Vega’s moans of pleasure turned into breathy pants.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” Bridger wrapped his free arm around her and slid her off his lap, pulling his fingers out and popping them into his mouth to clean off.
Bridger slid his tongue down them with one more long, languid lick.
“You taste so much better than I remember.”
When the fog of Vega’s mind cleared, her fingers worked the buttons of Bridger’s shirt. He shook his shoulders, letting the shirt fall behind him. “How can someone be so gods-damned hot?”
Smooth, Vega. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.