by Sophia Gray
“Hey,” he called.
Bridgette glanced up at him, her face still drawn and harrowed.
Falcon sidled up to her, doing his best to give her space. He didn’t even know where to start. Out of habit he reached for his cigarettes and pulled one out.
He was surprised when Bridgette reached over to the pack without asking. With her slender fingers, she plucked one out and stuck it in her mouth. Falcon lifted a skeptical brow at her.
Bridgette stared back unblinkingly, her eyes expectant.
Falcon shrugged to himself and pulled out his lighter, making sure to light hers before his own. He let the cigarette dangle in his mouth as he watched her, transfixed.
She took a deep drag off the cigarette, her eyes closing lightly and her head rolling back a little as she held the smoke in. With her head tilted like that, her face lit up by the sunlight, Falcon could see the trails of dried tears on her cheeks. Her red mane tumbled over her shoulders in a wild disarray. She was so goddamn gorgeous. He could see bits of dried grass in her hair, probably from when he’d practically tackled her to the ground. He fought the urge to reach out and brush it away.
He didn’t want to push anything. He wanted to prove to her that even now, after he’d been so damned close to losing her, he could still respect her boundaries.
Bridgette exhaled slowly. The cloud of smoke temporarily obscured her face, and it seemed to Falcon that as it reemerged, the stiffness of her expression seemed to melt away—the worry, the horror. It was as if she’d packed all those emotions into the smoke itself and was now watching it evaporate into the air around her.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get cancer?” he mocked her lightly. He couldn’t help himself.
She cast a withering glance at him. “I was just nearly shot to ribbons. Cut me some slack.” She took another small puff, then blew another stream of smoke out past her lips. “Besides, this is a one-time thing.”
“You’d better be careful. They say these things are addictive. Something to do with the nicotine, I think.”
Bridgette’s lips lifted into a weary smile. “I think I’ll manage.”
They lapsed back into silence again. Falcon still didn’t quite know what to say, and it seemed that Bridgette was content to remain in that contemplative state for a few moments longer.
“How do you do it?” she asked at last, when her cigarette had burned down nearly to a butt.
“Do what?”
“Get over it so quickly. Shit, Kyle, ten guys just got their brains blown out, and here you are cracking jokes like we’re back in high school hanging out behind the 7-11. How does that not get to you?”
Falcon finished off his cigarette and dropped it to the ground. He didn’t tamp it out, though. He just let it smolder there, shrouded in spiraling tendrils of smoke. “It does get to me. I think you’re not human if that stuff doesn’t at least rattle you a little. But hell, Bridge, this has been my life.”
Bridgette stomped her cigarette out on the ground and closed her eyes again. “So…what happens now?”
“The guys have a plan for taking care of what remains of Martin’s little empire. You don’t need to worry about it. It’s over.”
Bridgette’s eyes flew open and her head snapped to him. “The drugs. Christ, I almost forgot. Kyle, I found them. You were right, they were in the basement.”
“Where?” he demanded. They’d ripped out everything that they possibly could have. There was nothing left but concrete.
“In the ceiling. They must have papered over the old tiles when they were trying to get it ready to sell.”
“No shit.” Falcon shook his head to himself in disbelief. “God, how the hell didn’t we think of that?”
Bridgette shrugged. “You were having too much fun with your power tools?” she offered.
Falcon heaved a sigh. “Goddamn it. We could have avoided this whole mess.”
“Well, it’s done now, for better or for worse. But I want that crap out of the bakery—“
“Don’t worry,” he soothed her. “I’ll send a couple of the guys over there right away. Like I said, we’ll take care of everything. I haven’t failed you yet, have I?”
Her lips lifted again in another faint smile. “No,” she admitted, “You haven’t.”
Falcon straightened up. “Listen,” he began, “I don’t like the way we left things. I’m not going to try to force anything now because I know you’ve been through a lot. But I think we should go back to my place and just talk about everything. About us, about Gabby.”
Falcon didn’t like the tightness in his gut after he made that suggestion. Shark’s words about her wanting to pick up and get the hell out of Dodge rang in his mind. What if she didn’t want to hear his apologies? What if this had been too much for her or if she thought that him hanging around might put her in the same kind of danger again? He hated feeling so helpless.
Falcon shifted from foot to foot as the silence stretched between them. He didn’t want to seem anxious, but the thought that she might not stay was eating him inside, like a pool of acid slowly dissolving his core.
“Right now?” she asked after a moment. There was no inflection on the question—no hopeful rise or skeptical slant. “You don’t have stuff to do here?”
“The guys have it handled,” Falcon reassured her. “I can take you back to your car if you want. Like I said, this is a lot to process. If you need time—“
“I don’t want to be alone,” she cut in. “Not now.”
Falcon fought to keep his hopes from rising too much. “You need to pick up Gabby?” he guessed.
She shook her head at that. “I just want to go back to the house. You’re right; we need to talk. I might need some time to let this all sink in, but I can’t be alone right now, Kyle. I just…I feel so shaken apart. Like I don’t know down from up.”
Falcon could hear it in her voice and see it in her body. She was holding together for now, but it was temporary. She was a house of cards that had started to sway. She was ready to collapse.
And he hated seeing her like this. Fragile. Vulnerable. He’d meant what he’d said earlier, that she wasn’t delicate. She was tough and made of stronger stuff than most women. It took a lot to knock her down and keep her down.
She’d bounce back from this. He was sure of that. But he hated even seeing it affect her like this.
“Hey,” Falcon told her firmly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” He took her hand in his and held it tight.
Bridgette squeezed his hand back. “I know,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 26
Bridgette
Bridgette sat across the table from him, nursing her beer. They hadn’t spoken since arriving back at the house. But it was a comfortable silence. Kyle leaned back a little in his chair, already on his second drink.
She was glad he was sitting here with her. He wasn’t trying calm her down or fill the silence with conversation. It was good, after everything, to just take this time to quietly revel in the fact that her nightmare was really, truly over.
She still could scarcely believe it. Part of her didn’t want to, afraid that there was something the Raging Reapers had overlooked. Afraid that at any moment Kyle would tell her that she had another reason to worry, that one of Martin’s brothers or something was looking for revenge.
But that wasn’t her problem to worry about. Kyle had assured her they had a plan for tying up all their loose ends, and she trusted him.
Part of her was still waiting for some new problem to arise. She just couldn’t believe that her luck would change now. After surviving so much, after her streak of misfortune and unhappy coincidences, she couldn’t believe that the universe didn’t have some other dark twist in store for her.
But she knew, even if this really weren’t finished, Kyle wouldn’t abandon her to face it alone. That much was clear to her now.
And she wouldn’t abandon him. He’d proven his devotion to her te
nfold. He’d put his life on the line when he didn’t have to. He’d pulled out all the stops trying to get to her in time. And for all his flaws and rough edges, she knew she could trust him with her life and her daughter’s life. In the end, that was all that really mattered.
She knew she’d been too hasty before. She shouldn’t have told him that she didn’t want him in her life. It had seemed like a reasonable decision at that point, especially with the stress of her failing business and her deteriorating relationship with Gabby bearing down on her. Cutting him and all his baggage out of the picture had seemed like an answer to everything that was going wrong.
But even then she’d known that it wouldn’t be so easy. She loved him. She hadn’t wanted to put it into words, but the moment Martin’s men had led her out to see Kyle and she had laid eyes on him, she realized if she died there, she was happy she at least got to see him one more time.
She didn’t know what to say to him now. She knew she probably should apologize, both for saying that she couldn’t give him a chance and for putting herself in danger. That she should thank him again for saving her life.
Kyle reached across the table unexpectedly, taking her by the hand. “Bridge, are you doing all right?”
She could see he was fighting to hide the concern in his eyes. She squeezed his hand tightly. “Yeah. I’m still in shock, I guess.”
Kyle rubbed small, soothing circles into the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry you got sucked into this. I promised I’d keep you safe and I didn’t, and because of that I almost lost you. But I swear to God that from here on out that I am going to be there. I’m not going to let any son of a bitch lay hands on you again, I promise.”
It was like his words somehow flipped a switch in her. All the emotion she’d been keeping at arm’s length seemed to rise like a tidal wave and wash over her. She couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks. “No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone back to the bakery. It was stupid and careless, and I’m lucky it didn’t get me killed. I should have listened to you. I mean, what the hell was I thinking? What would Gabby do without me?”
“Hey, hey,” Kyle hushed her. He pushed away from the table and moved over to her side. She automatically curled into his arms, letting him shelter her there against his broad chest. “You didn’t know they were waiting for you.”
“You told me to stay away. You told me it was dangerous—“
“Well, sitting here kicking yourself about it isn’t going to do a damned bit of good, is it?” Kyle dipped down to press a quick kiss against her lips. “It all worked out now. And that’s all that matters.”
Bridgette tucked herself against his chest, burying her head and her tears. “I was so afraid of losing you. You were right from the very beginning. I tried so hard to let you go and just move on, but I couldn’t. I thought giving into what my heart wanted was a mistake. That you weren’t good for me. But you’re the only reason I’m still here right now.” Bridgette felt her voice hitch in her throat. Here it was. She was laying all her cards out on the table. “I love you. I always have and I always will. Even if you’re an ass sometimes. Even if you aren’t the perfect father. I don’t need perfect. I just need this.”
Bridgette stretched her arms up and hooked them around his neck, crushing herself against him. The flood of emotions was still coursing through her; her hands were damp with cold sweat, and her heart felt like it was trembling in her chest. But the more she leaned into him, the more she felt like she could just collapse against him, the more those lingering emotions seemed to fade.
“I love you, too,” he murmured to her. “I would do anything for you. And you’re right: I’m not perfect, but I’m going to damn well try to be for you and for Gabby.” Kyle dipped his head down for another kiss, but this one was not chaste. He pressed into her mouth with desperation, communicating the force of his need for her through the deep, possessive strokes of his tongue. Bridgette leaned into the firmness of his lips, surrendering all of herself to the force of that kiss.
She knew she could let go with him. She could just give in. And after the stress of the last week, she was ready to plunge headfirst into this passion with him. He loved her. She loved him. And that was all that mattered.
Kyle’s hands trailed up her sides, leaving goosebumps beneath her shirt in their wake. Bridgette laced her hands in his hair in response, dragging her hands gently through his thick locks, raking her nails lightly over his scalp.
She wanted him now. Her whole body thrummed with a familiar energy, and she could feel her core already coiling tightly in anticipation. The smoke and the beer had taken a little of the edge off, but now she craved something stronger.
The feeling seemed mutual. Kyle’s fingers had already begun to play with the hem of her shirt, lifting it up, darting beneath to slide a quick caress over her bare skin. She dropped her hands from playing with his hair to tug the shirt up and over her head.
As she struggled to pull the clingy t-shirt fabric away from her face, she felt the snap of her bra unclasping and in just seconds, Kyle was sliding the bra from over her breasts.
Bridgette expected him to lavish his attention on them, but he surprised her, instead continuing to undress her. He began working at the button of her jeans. It didn’t take him long to get them undone and drag them down over her waist, leaving her in nothing but her lacey panties. Bridgette stepped out of her jeans and kicked them aside, smiling devilishly up at Kyle.
He gazed down at her, his eyes glazed over with lust, and his hand reaching for her breasts. But she caught him by the wrist, stopping him. He didn’t fight her, but she saw a question in his hungry eyes.
Bridgette knelt down on the kitchen tile, the ceramic cold beneath her. She didn’t mind, though. She was focused on one thing only.
She took her time unbuttoning his pants, knowing the waiting was agony. She wanted him to burn this time. She wanted to see Kyle pushed to that same place of primal, animal need that she always found whenever they did this. So she unzipped his fly slowly, too, knowing his cock, which was already so hard that it was straining against the zipper, would feel every little shudder and vibration.
She could see Kyle’s fists clenched and unclenched at his side, and she could only imagine he was fighting the urge to just take over and get his pants off. He seemed to grow more restless as she spread her fingers lightly over his abdomen and slowly drew them down to the waistband of his boxers.
Apparently close to losing it, Kyle lifted his arms up and laced his hands behind his head, locking them there like a prisoner.
Bridgette smiled to herself at that. He is a prisoner, she thought. My prisoner.
She inserted her hands under his waistband and finally drew down the last layer of clothing that was separating her from his throbbing cock.
She heard the sharp hitch in his breathing as she exposed his erection. The grin on her lips broadened. Experimentally she extended her tongue and, using just the narrow tip, licked all the way from the base of his cock up to the tip. It twitched in response.
“Christ,” Kyle groaned. He shifted his weight a little, another manifestation of his impatience.
Bridgette slipped a hand underneath him, cradling his balls in her palm. She was careful not to squeeze too hard, only applying just the right amount of pressure.
“Bridge,” Kyle panted, “slow down. You’re killing me.”
She could feel the strain in his body and see it in the tautness of his muscles. He didn’t want her to slow down; he wanted her to speed up to find release. But she wasn’t letting him off that easy.
Bridgette blew cold air against his thick tip before going down on him. She started small, swiping her tongue over the tip. She could taste him, salty and musky and just a little bitter. She worked just the tip of him in and out of her mouth, not sucking too hard or working too much with her tongue. She wanted to give him enough to tease, but not enough to satisfy.
But as she continued to wor
k, as his moans grew deeper and louder, she began to take more and more of him in. It had been too long since she’d done this with anyone, and she knew she couldn’t push too far without gagging. She quickly found herself working into a steady rhythm, sliding up and down his shaft, pushing him closer and closer to the point of coming.
At last Kyle dropped a hand to her head, entwining his hand in her curls. “You gotta stop, baby,” he groaned, his voice harsh from his ragged breathing. He pulled her back, gently but forcefully, drawing her head back as he dislodged his cock from her mouth. “You’re going too fast.”
Bridgette let Kyle help her to her feet. He looked a little ridiculous, his shirt and kutte still on but naked from the waist down. She couldn’t help but giggle a little to herself.