Clincher (DS Fight Club Book 6)

by Josie Kerr

  “Nolan . . .”

  “I’m sorry I called you desperate. It was cruel, and I have no excuse. It was a real asshole move, and I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole, because I really try not to be. I just don’t . . .”

  Bridget closed the gap between them and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her mouth against his in a hard, hot kiss.

  “Shut up, Nolan.” She kissed him again, going up onto her toes and pressing her breasts into his chest.

  He answered her by sealing his mouth over hers and pulling her close. Bridget could feel his erection through his chinos, and she ground her hips against him, hoping he would get the hint. He palmed her ass, sliding his big hands to grip her hips. He rested his forehead against hers before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

  “What do you want from me, Bridget?”

  “Everything. I want everything, Nolan.”

  Nolan bent his head and kissed her again, and she melted against him. He murmured against her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and nipping, and she jolted, her back arching against him. Then Bridget felt him slowly begin to ease down the side zipper of her trousers.

  “Is this okay?” he whispered.

  “Oh yeah.”

  The zipper undone, Nolan slid his rough hand across the soft, smooth, naked skin of her hip. Nolan’s hands were rougher than she expected, not calloused exactly, but not the smooth hands of an office worker. He cupped one cheek first and then ran a finger along her hipbone, tracing the curve over to her mound. Bridget closed her eyes, wanting to submerge herself in the pleasure that was Nolan’s hands on her body.

  “Holy shit, you’re not wearing panties.” His fingers dipped between her thighs, slipping into her seam and pressing against her sensitive nub. “God, that is the sexiest thing ever.”

  Bridget gripped his shoulders with both hands, and he held one hip while he slid his middle finger into her core and kissed her hard.

  “More, Nolan.” She ground against his hand and kissed him back harder. “More.”

  Nolan slipped in another finger and slid his other hand under her pants to grip her bare ass. She wriggled against him, and Nolan slid a third finger deep into her core while thumbing her clit. He pressed against her tight pucker, not penetrating, with just enough pressure to make her crazy. Bridget rode his hands, clawing at his shoulders and gasping with pleasure.

  She didn’t even notice that her shirt had come open again until Nolan captured her nipple between his teeth and bit down just hard enough to shoot the first wave of orgasm through her. She bucked hard, and Nolan fucked her with his hands and suckled her breast until she thought she was going to lose her mind.

  Then he pressed his thumb against her clit, and she exploded around him. She could feel her juices running down her legs as Nolan pumped his fingers into her, digging the fingers of his other hand into her ass, until she almost blacked out. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers, and he let out a guttural growl.

  Bridget was out of breath, breasts heaving, as she fumbled with Nolan’s fly. He watched her, slack-jawed, as she undid the button and zipper and pushed his chinos down around his hips.

  “Bridget,” he began but stopped when she took his hard cock into her mouth. She pumped the base of his cock while she ran her tongue along the length of his shaft before engulfing him as much as she could. Nolan wrapped his hands in her hair, fucking her mouth as she looked up at him.

  “Bridget, I’m almost . . . ,” he ground out, and then she pressed a finger against his taint, and he roared with a powerful orgasm. Bridget continued pumping and sucking until he was spent.

  Afterward, he pulled her up to her feet and kissed her sweetly on the mouth before sucking on his fingers.

  Holy crap, that was hot!

  They were both breathless, and then Bridget began to giggle. He kissed her again, his mouth curling up into a grin, and then Nolan pulled her close and just held her. Finally, Bridget pulled away and stood an arm’s length away from him. Nolan wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “I . . . uh . . . that was not what I came in here to do, Bridget.”

  “Did you want to make me feel better?”

  “Well, yeah . . . but . . .”

  Bridget rolled her eyes. “Mission accomplished. I . . . feel better than I have in years, and it’s not just because you have some magic fingers there, man.” She stroked his hair and then straightened his fly and zipped his pants. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome?” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” Nolan caught her chin in his hand and gave her a kiss. “Yeah,” he repeated. “So, did you get my text?”

  Bridget threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, I did. I typed a bunch of lame things, and then I got distracted by this shit show of a presser, and I panicked. I’m sorry.”

  “No, Bridget, I’m sorry. I—”

  She put her fingers over his mouth. “Stop. Okay? Stop. We’re even. Deal?”

  Nolan gave her one of his shy grins and nodded. “Deal.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Hours after her locker room interlude with Nolan, Bridget could still feel his hands on her, his fingers inside her. She wanted to do it again. She wanted him to take her, make her his, make her scream his name. She touched herself as she lounged in the bathtub, lazily rolling her clit between her thumb and forefinger, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same.

  Her phone chimed, and she dried her hands off and checked the message.

  Thanks for the floss, babe.

  Bridget laughed. She’d slipped the horribly uncomfortable but very sexy thong underwear into Nolan’s pocket after he’d walked her to her door and given her a kiss. If she hadn’t stripped those things off in the locker room, she wouldn’t have crashed into him and therefore wouldn’t have had the hottest sex she’d ever had. Holy shit. What was going to happen when they actually got naked and horizontal? She didn’t think she was going to be able to handle the hotness that was Nolan Harper. The man could make her body sing.

  She sent him a flirty text back, including a selfie of her making a kissy face, which prompted a flurry of texts from Nolan inquiring about clothing and ending with a good-night selfie of him in a T-shirt, his eyes soft and heavy like he’d either just woken up or recently climaxed. She couldn’t wait to see that face in person.

  She was eating a pre-bedtime snack of yogurt when her father called. He got right to the point.

  “How’d the presser go? I saw some stills but haven’t seen any tape.”

  Bridget sighed. The question brought an end to her dulling post-orgasm high.

  “Birdie, talk to me, honey.”

  “It was okay, good even.”

  “Kowalczyk behaved herself?”

  Bridget snorted. “Yeah, for the most part.”

  “But?”

  “Did you know they were engaged?”

  “Oh?” Her father sounded carefully nonchalant. He knew.

  Bridget dropped into a kitchen chair and closed her eyes. “You could have warned me.” You should have warned me.

  “I’d heard a rumor, but you never know about these things.”

  “Ma and Kevin’s mother are tight, Dad. You could have gotten confirmation.”

  “I know, Birdie. I’m sorry. I should have said something.”

  “Maybe it’ll finally sink in to Ma’s thick skull that we’re not getting back together.”

  “Now, that’s not fair to your mother . . .”

  “Not fair? Not fair? What’s not fair is having your mother interrogate you about all the things you could have done differently to keep your husband from sticking his dick in another woman. That’s not fair.”

  “You’re right.”

  “He gave her my engagement ring.”

  Bridget heard Liam suck in his breath in surprise. “What?”

  “She shoved her hand in my face, and my ring was on her finger.” Bile rose in Bridget’s throat, and she pushed the yogurt away. “I gave him back the rings a
nd told him to sell them to get money for his precious demo tape.” She hated the bitterness she heard in her voice, because really, she shouldn’t care about the rings or if Kevin and Hanna were engaged, or really anything at all. That was the beauty of being divorced with no children: the ability to not give a flying fuck about what your ex was doing.

  “Oh, Bridget. I am so sorry.”

  “Why do I care, Dad? Why?”

  “Because you loved him for most of your life.”

  “I suppose.”

  A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Liam spoke again. “How is everything else going? You having a good camp so far?”

  Bridget answered his questions about her training camp, and Liam caught her up on happenings in the neighborhood. But Bridget sensed her father wanted to say something else to her, and she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to listen to his advice right then. She waited for him to broach another subject, but he didn’t until the very end of the conversation, right as they were saying good-bye.

  “You should really get out there, you know? It’s time, Birdie.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then do it.”

  Visions of Nolan “doing it” filled her head, but she wasn’t quite ready to share the quiet man with her father just yet. At the very least, she wanted to make sure that what happened earlier in the day wasn’t just a random fuck. Though, somewhere deep in her heart, she knew it wasn’t, at least on her part. She was falling for Nolan, hard, and she hoped he felt the same way, because if he didn’t, she didn’t think she could stand it.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Halfway through, Harper. Only four more weeks.

  Nolan eyed the clock as he scraped the last bits of banana ice cream into a small container. He expected Bridget in less than half an hour, and he still needed to hop into the shower. He shoved the ice cream container into the freezer and sprinted to the bathroom, where he took the quickest shower ever. He’d was buckling his belt and reminding Iggy to mind his manners when his doorbell rang.

  “It’s go time, buddy. Remember what I told you.” Nolan pointed at the cat, who sat on the back of the couch, with his tail swishing ominously.

  “Mrowwp!”

  Nolan took a deep breath and opened the door to find Bridget grinning at him, wearing one of her halter tops and a pair of slim jeans and looking good enough to eat.

  “Hey.” He grinned back at her, fully aware that he looked like a loon. “Boy, look at you.” Nolan continued to grin at her for a few long moments until he realized that she was still standing outside his entryway. “Well, shit. Come in.” Nolan, you need to calm your ass down.

  He stepped aside to let Bridget into the apartment, and when she stepped across the threshold, she stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hey, Nolan.” Bridget ran her hand down his arm and ended by giving his hand a squeeze. “You look good yourself. I like your toes.”

  Nolan glanced down and realized he hadn’t put on any shoes. Talk about keeping things casual. It didn’t seem to bother her, because she slipped off her own footwear, drawing attention to her bright red toenails and a braided band of gold winking from one toe.

  “I like your apartment complex. There’re so many trees!”

  “Yeah, I like it, too. It’s almost like living in a house. The river runs right behind it. We can take Iggy for a walk down there after supper.” Nolan blew out a breath. “Sorry. I know I’m babbling.”

  Bridget squeezed his hand again. “You’re fine. No, you’re more than fine, Nolan.”

  “Mrowwp.”

  Bridget hopped back in surprise as Iggy flopped down onto her feet. “That is a big cat!”

  “Yeah, we both need to do some more work. He used to be bigger.”

  “I’m assuming this is Iggy?”

  “Mrowwp!”

  She squatted down and began massaging the big cat’s throat, and Iggy turned over onto his back to allow her better access to his belly. “Oh, you’re a big softie, aren’t you?” Bridget crooned. “Yes, you are. God, I love your squishy belly.”

  Nolan snorted. Lord, I hope she feels the same way about my squishy belly.

  Bridget looked up at his snort and gave him a look that communicated that she knew exactly what he was thinking. She gave Iggy another pat on the tummy and stood up. “So, what’s the plan, man?” She stepped into his space again and looped her arms around his waist. “What do you have planned for us, hmm?” Bridget stepped even closer, and Nolan found himself embracing her, smoothing his hands down the slope of her back to rest on the subtle curve of her ass.

  “Um, some supper and, uh, maybe a walk. Dessert. Anything you want.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. She rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. Nolan stroked her cheek with the back of his index finger and then couldn’t keep himself from brushing her lush bottom lip with his thumb. He sucked in a breath when Bridget pulled his thumb into her mouth and bit down on it. She closed her eyes, and he was reminded of that day in the locker room, his cock growing instantly hard at the memory. Bridget licked the length of his thumb and then opened her eyes.

  “Anything?” she asked

  “Uh, within reason. Like, I don’t have any Pappy Van Winkle, but then again, I figure you don’t drink during training anyway, so . . . ,” he stammered.

  Bridget kissed the center of his chest. “You’re right—no booze for me. But I’m up for just about anything else.”

  Oh boy. Nolan cupped Bridget’s head in his hand, and just as he pressed his lips against hers, her stomach growled. Loudly.

  They both laughed, even as they kissed, and Bridget mumbled against his mouth, “Wow—that was attractive.”

  “I think this girl needs to eat, huh? Guess I need to get busy.”

  Nolan wrapped his arm around his date and led her over to the bar that lined the galley kitchen so they could chat while he finished preparing their dinner.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  After a balcony dinner of flank steak and garlic zoodles, Nolan and Bridget took a stroll down to the riverbank. They sat on a bench by the water and watched Iggy try to catch the fireflies that taunted him with their blinking lights.

  “How on earth did you get a cat to walk on a leash?” Bridget asked with a light laugh as she watched the rotund cat stalk the unsuspecting insects.

  “I was staying with Tobias for a while after I had my heart attack, and he has two dogs. He found this little guy on a country road. Who knows how he got there, but Toby brought him home and said, ‘Here ya go. Companionship.’ I put him on a leash pretty much as soon as I got him, to walk with the girls, and never stopped.” Nolan shrugged. “Now he won’t go outside without the leash on. I get a lot of funny looks, but, eh—if a fat dude walking a fat cat on a leash is the most bizarre thing they see in this neighborhood? Hell, they don’t get out much.”

  Bridget, who had her arms stretched out along the back of the bench, leaned her head back and let out a big, throaty laugh, and Nolan just had to kiss her. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her soft cheek. He could feel the apple of her cheek shift with her smile, and when she turned her face to his, she wore a wondrous expression.

  Nolan cupped her jaw with his hand and kissed her mouth, and he felt her hand move to the back of his head and her fingers wind in his hair. Her lips opened, inviting his tongue inside, while she sighed. He deepened the kiss, moving his hand from her jaw to the small of her back, pressing her against him while she wound her arms around his neck.

  “Nolan, we need to go inside,” she murmured against his lips. “I want to do things to you that we shouldn’t do on a public bench.”

  “Iggy, pack it in, buddy.” Nolan didn’t wait for Iggy to respond. Instead, he scooped the big cat up under one arm, grabbed Bridget’s hand with his other, and set off to the apartment. Bridget cackled as she trotted alongside him, and when they got to the stairs, he urged her up first—
partially so he could look at her ass in those tight pants, but mostly so he could make her stop and kiss her on the stairs with her standing over him. He pulled her to him, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, until Iggy protested.

  “Whoops. Sorry, Iggy.” Nolan set the cat down, and Iggy glared at him before making his way up the stairs. “Shit, he’s gonna be a pain from now on.”

  “I don’t care, as long as I can keep kissing on you.” Bridget pulled on the front of his shirt, urging him up the stairs and into his apartment.

  Once inside, Bridget began unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it over his shoulders. Nolan’s hands roamed all over her, under her top and across her bare back, while she explored beneath his undershirt.

  Nolan broke their kiss and gently pushed her away from him. They were both breathing heavily.

  “Aren’t there rules about . . . stuff . . . during camp?” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. His hands were everywhere again, and a strangled groan came out of his throat as she rubbed up against him, her need matching his own. “Good Lord, Bridget.”

  “Yes, there are, but rules are made to be broken,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m tired of playing by the rules.” Nolan caught her chin in his big hand, holding her face still and forcing her to look him in the eyes. He swallowed hard. “Don’t you ever get tired of playing by the rules, Nolan?”

  He answered her by sealing his mouth over hers in a hard kiss and lifting her off her feet. She laughed again, that wonderful, husky laugh, as they fell back onto the couch, Nolan flat on his back with Bridget straddling him. She wiggled against him, grinding against his erection, which was straining against his zipper.

  Bridget lay down on him, stretching her body along the length of his, as she wrestled with his undershirt. Nolan paused for a moment and then lifted up and allowed her to pull the shirt off, exposing his naked torso. She attacked his mouth with hers and dragged her short nails across his nipples. He’d been aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra by the way her breasts jiggled and moved when she laughed, and Nolan was dying to put his mouth on her. He gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Then, with his hands wrapped in her loose topknot, he pulled her upright so he could look at her before he began to worship her with his mouth. He rolled each nipple in his fingers, plucking and gently pinching them while trying to simultaneously work her pants over her hips. He succeeding in getting the waistband over her ass and rolled down to the top of her thighs, but when he lay back to gaze at her, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She bit her lip, but this bite was one of anxiety and not lust.