The Boy on the Bridge

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The Boy on the Bridge Page 22

by Sam Mariano


  This time he breaks away to shove his jeans off. He’s still wearing black boxer briefs, but I can see the big bulge of his arousal and it makes my tummy flutter with nerves.

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip as he pushes his fingers into the waistband to take them off. I suck in a breath, my eyes widening as he shoves them down and his cock springs free.

  I’ve never seen a man naked in real life before. Hunter’s body is incredible, hard and smooth, chiseled and sculpted as if by a gifted artist—or maybe the gods themselves. It’s a little overwhelming taking in the whole sight of him, but my gaze drifts back to his dick as if forced by some irresistible magnetic pull.

  He has a really beautiful cock. Long and thick, slightly curved with pronounced veins. I want to run my fingers over every ridge, explore and memorize every inch of him.

  I guess I can, can’t I?

  I sit up on my knees before he can climb on top of me again. Hunter is on his, too, his heavy cock hanging there, begging to be touched.

  I grab him gently, wrapping my fingers around the shaft. He tenses when I do. My gaze jerks to his face as a little grunt-like noise slips out of him. Judging by the lines of strain on his face, it’s pleasure, not pain, so I resume my exploration.

  Slowly, still trying to be gentle since I’m not sure how this all works yet, I slide my hand up his length. I run my thumb over the smooth, velvety tip, pressing into the little dip there. Hunter growls, his fingers locking around my wrist.

  I gasp at the suddenness of it. My gaze shoots to his hand on my wrist. His grip is fairly tight. His veins there pronounced, too. It’s the strangest thing to find sexy, but the sight of those veins, of him holding onto me like that… I like it.

  I let go of his cock as he moves toward me on the bed. His vibe hasn’t changed since he grabbed my wrist. He feels almost predatory, and it makes electricity vibrate through my whole body.

  On instinct, I start to crawl backward. Before I can, he sweeps a hand behind me and plants his other hand on my chest, slamming me back on the mattress in one slick movement.

  My heartbeat kicks up as he climbs back on top of me, this time with his cock free. The evidence of his arousal presses into my belly, making me feel warm all over.

  “Spread your legs.”

  The tone of his voice brooks no argument. I meet his gaze and slowly open my legs to make room for him.

  I can’t believe this is really happening. I try to tamp down my nerves as Hunter repositions himself between my thighs. He slides his hand between my legs again, pushing a finger into me. This time he doesn’t just play with my clit, though, he pushes deeper into the narrow space, rubbing my walls like he’s getting the lay of the land before he claims it.

  I don’t know if it’s the feel of him caressing me or the way he maintains eye contact the whole time, but another shiver of pleasure courses through me. I clench my legs shut on instinct, but he’s planted between them so I only succeed in brushing his thighs.

  The clench must alert him to my nervousness again, because he gentles a bit. With his free hand, he caresses my breast, leaning down so he can kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, shifting my hips against his hand as he continues to explore the inside of my body.

  He keeps kissing me until I’m not afraid anymore, until the warmth is back and I feel languid. I’m moving rhythmically against his hand now, chasing the pleasure he gave me before.

  He pulls his finger out of me before I can get there.

  He grabs his cock, bringing it to my entrance.

  I tense as I feel his soft skin against mine. He deepens the kiss to distract me. My heart lurches as his tongue invades my mouth, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve in my whole body.

  He pushes the tip of his cock into me and kisses me harder. I can scarcely breathe. Every breath I draw, he steals.

  He pushes a little deeper. I gasp against his mouth, my body tensing as he hits an uncomfortable barrier.

  “It’s okay,” he murmurs against my lips, not moving forward any more until I relax. His roaming hand comes up to cradle and caress my face. He gives me another few soft, gentle kisses, coaxing me to relax.

  It works. At least, until he pushes through the barrier. I arch up off the bed, gasping at the sudden throbbing shock of pain.

  Hunter’s hand slides around to my back as I arch, cradling my body against his. I breathe heavily as I try to adjust to the feeling of my body being stretched open. I know it’s natural, but it doesn’t feel natural. He feels too big inside me. I know I wanted more than his finger, but I’m rethinking that desire because this is quite uncomfortable.

  With my body pulled tight against his, Hunter’s lips find my neck easily. His soft, gentle kisses on that sensitive column ease some of my discomfort.

  His cock doesn’t move any deeper. That helps, too. He’s waiting for me to adjust to him, so it’s not hurting as much right now. It’s still wildly uncomfortable, my body stretched around the massive intrusion. I never thought about the feeling of having another person inside you, but it’s… intense.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  His voice is so soothing on my overly excited nerves. I need his comfort, so I lock my arms around him and hug him.

  He’s gentle and sweet, continuing to kiss me and murmur reassurances. Affection for him swells up inside me. This is the Hunter I had in my bed four years ago. This is the Hunter I want, and regardless of the peeks I’ve seen of his asshole side, I am so relieved he showed up for me in this moment.

  I kiss his neck, too, just once. I wonder if it feels as good for him as it does for me.

  Now that I’m overflowing with tenderness and sure it’s the Hunter I wanted inside of me right now, it goes a lot easier. I knew it was a gamble to do this with him tonight, I’ve had thoughts that I might end up regretting it, but I’m not worried about that anymore.

  As he kisses me so sweetly, as he starts to move inside me and the discomfort turns to building pleasure, I know… I won’t regret this.

  Shedding the last vestiges of my uncertainty, I give myself over to the moment completely. I give myself to Hunter, and he gives himself to me, too. I’ve never felt so safe.

  I grow a little bolder once I get used to the fullness of having Hunter inside me, the intense, needy feeling when he shoves deep into my pussy. I lock my legs around his hips and try to pull him deeper. My body still resists as he stretches me, but I love having all of him inside of me. I love the noises he makes as my body brings his pleasure, the way he kisses and sucks and lightly bites my neck.

  After a while, Hunter pulls back and shifts positions. He gets up on his knees now that I don’t need the comfort of his body pressed so closely against mine.

  He looks down at my face as he pulls out.

  I pout a little.

  He smirks. “Miss me already?”

  I nod, unashamed.

  He slides his hands under my ass and lifts me off the bed, then he reaches one hand down to line his cock back up and eases the swollen head inside me.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs lowly, his thumb digging into my hip as he pushes himself deeper, slowly but relentlessly.

  He keeps that grip on me, holding me up at an angle as he fucks me. It must feel as intense for him as it does for me because his thumb keeps digging into my hip. I think I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow, but I almost look forward to it. A memento from tonight. I’ll think about this every time I look at it.

  This angle is too much to handle. My insides feel tight and tingly. I throb around him, every stroke tightening the tension building inside of me. My legs shake as he scrapes my walls, pushing so deep that my toes curl. The muscles in my legs tense and shake. I grab fistfuls of the sheets beneath me, breathing harder as he pumps into me again and again, chasing me higher and higher up this mountain.

  I love his rough hands, the way he grabs me and groans while he chases his own pleasure. I love every single thing about sex with Hunter.

  I whimper
his name, fisting the sheets tighter and squeezing my eyes closed. I’m so close I can taste the explosion of pleasure and I’m terrified he’ll stop.

  Instead, he picks up the pace. I didn’t think it was possible, but he slams into me harder, faster. He draws desperate noises out of me that I can’t even put a name to, and then he drives deep and my body finally can’t take anymore. I cry out, forgetting we’re in a house full of people. It doesn’t matter. I can’t keep the cry from leaving my throat, can’t breathe or think or do anything but feel as a volcano of pleasure erupts. My whole body shudders helplessly, my pussy convulsing around him.

  He thrusts into me one more time and lets go, groaning, his handsome face contorting as he comes, too.

  My bliss bubble is ripped a little when I realize I felt him come inside me. My first thought is, damn, that condom must be really thin, but then I realize it doesn’t feel right. A condom is supposed to keep everything in, but…

  I can’t even remember him putting on a condom. I felt warm skin, not a cool, lubricated tip when he pushed inside me.

  Oh no.

  My heart skitters as my body lags in the aftermath of that orgasm. My mind struggles to work, encouraged in its laziness by my heart, so full as Hunter relaxes against me, his head on my breast like I’m his favorite pillow. All I want to do is hold him and be relaxed with him, but…

  “Hey, remember when you said you had a condom?”

  “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against my chest.

  “Did you… put it on?”

  Silence.

  My heart sinks. I tell myself maybe he’s just weak like I am, struggling to think or speak or process memories.

  Only, he doesn’t recover like I did and assure me that yes, he totally used the condom, this is just how it always feels after responsible, protected sex.

  “I’m clean,” he assures me.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  He sighs, lifting his head up so he can look at me. “It’s in my pants.”

  I look over at the pile of his clothes on the floor.

  Hunter lifts his hips and pulls out of me, moving onto the spot beside me on the bed.

  A chill sweeps over me as the drafty air hits my bare body.

  I need a blanket. I need to be covered up. I need…

  He didn’t use a condom.

  He just fucked me without a condom.

  He just came inside me.

  Fuck.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks.

  “No,” I snap.

  “Hey,” he says, his voice calm and even as he recognizes me starting to freak out. “Don’t worry about it. It’s done now, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “My mom was in high school when she got pregnant with me. She will kill me if I—No,” I say suddenly, my eyes widening. “She’ll kill you. Death. Slow, painful death. She’ll murder you.”

  “Riley, relax,” he says. “People have sex without a condom all the time, what are the chances that one time—”

  “It only takes one time!”

  He sighs as I roll off the bed and begin frantically gathering my clothes.

  “Riley, come on. What about your pillow talk? I promised you pillow talk,” he says, trying to entice me to calm down and get back in bed with him.

  “I have to go. I need… I don’t know, a shower.” I pull my panties on, then my bra.

  “Don’t go, not yet.”

  I snatch my jeans up off the floor and my cell phone falls out of the pocket.

  I grab the phone and step into one of the pant legs.

  I’m kinda freaking out, and I’m not sure what to do. On one hand, I could ask my mom. She obviously didn’t handle the situation right when she was my age because… well, here I am, but she’s an adult now. Surely she knows some adult woman way of dealing more effectively with unprotected sex.

  I can’t even ask her, though. That would mean telling her I had sex with Hunter tonight, and I can’t do that. I remember how she reacted all those years ago to finding him in my bed, how horrified she was that I would jump into bed with him after he stood me up for a date. If she knew what I did tonight…

  Oh my God. What have I done?

  I button and zip my jeans. Amid all the jostling, my phone screen lights up and I realize I have a lot of missed notifications. I didn’t have any when I came in here. I’m not sure how long ago that was now. It’s all kind of a blur of Hunter’s stupid sexy life-ruining kisses and…

  I have seven missed texts from Sara.

  There are three from Anderson.

  “Riley.”

  Hunter’s voice pulls my attention back to him. My gaze only flickers to him though as he climbs out of bed, then I look back at my phone to see what I missed.

  I check the messages from Anderson first, just because I didn’t expect to hear from him again.

  I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you.

  I don’t think you’re a whore. I mean, you’re not a whore. That was a terrible thing to say. I’m sorry Riley, I was just… hurt. I still am.

  My stomach drops, then I glance at the last one.

  Hey, you’re not still at the party, are you? Is everything okay?

  What? Why wouldn’t everything be okay?

  “What are you doing?” Hunter’s voice is closer now. I glance back and see he’s walking over to me with a frown on his face as he zips up his jeans.

  “I have a bunch of missed notifications.”

  His expression changes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I saw a flicker of regret.

  “Don’t check those right now,” he says, reaching out and covering my phone.

  I think he might take it, so I close my hand around it and pull it away from him.

  “Why?” I ask, frowning.

  My uneasiness grows when instead of answering me, he looks away.

  There it is again. That flicker of… shame?

  “What did you do?” I ask faintly, but I don’t wait for an answer. With shaky fingers, I open the missed messages from Sara.

  The first one is normal, she’s just checking in on me because she knew I was coming to this party with Anderson tonight. But then she starts asking me what’s happening at the party, first just out of curiosity, but as the messages get newer, the urgency grows.

  There’s a screenshot. The message above it says, “Wally posted this from the party. Are you still there? What’s he talking about? Is he there with somebody?”

  I click the screenshot of Wally’s post and my heart slides into my stomach.

  It’s a picture of Valerie’s bedroom door with the slimy caption “where the magic is happening tonight.”

  There are a bunch of likes already and a few comments from partygoers. Mostly mindless commentary, but my stomach drops again when I read someone’s comment: “And she’s a screamer!”

  I shake my head, horror and denial at war with each other inside me.

  Is that about me?

  I look at the picture again, verifying it is, in fact, Valerie’s bedroom door. It was posted 20 minutes ago, so… it has to be.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  “Riley…”

  Slowly, I turn my head to look at Hunter.

  The look on his face has become more guarded, but I can still see traces of guilt.

  I need to get to a bathroom or I’m going to throw up all over Valerie’s bedroom. I snatch my shirt off the floor, shakily pulling it on and buttoning the most important buttons so I can get the hell out of here.

  “Wait,” Hunter says as I make a beeline for the door. “Riley, don’t—”

  Before he can finish, I yank open the bedroom door.

  Then I halt suddenly, as if I’ve run into an invisible wall.

  The hallway that was empty when I walked down it before is crowded now, lined on both sides with our classmates.

  And they’re all staring right at me.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  R
iley

  Horror paralyzes me when all I want in the world is to flee.

  I look down the crowded hallway, seeing every smirk, hearing every snicker. I can feel the ridicule in the air, as real as raindrops hitting my skin.

  Wally stands off to the side, his smirk the most noticeable.

  I want to run, but I can’t move. I think about him coming to find me on the back porch, bringing me to Hunter.

  I should have known this was a trap.

  Why didn’t I know?

  I know the answer, though.

  I never thought Hunter would stoop this low. Lying about taking my virginity and spreading it around the school was one thing.

  Actually doing it and using it to humiliate me like this… that’s a whole other thing, and I didn’t think he would do that to me.

  He has the nerve to touch my back as he walks up behind me. “Come back inside. Let me explain.”

  “Get your hands off me,” I say, my voice shaky with a potent mix of rage and humiliation.

  “I fucked up,” he says lowly. “I made a mistake. I realized it as soon as—”

  “Stop. Talking.”

  He grabs my wrist, grabs my hip with his other hand and tries to pull me back inside. “Let’s talk about this. I took it too far, I know that—”

  “Get your hands off me,” I say more loudly, shoving him.

  I can’t breathe properly. My chest is tightening, panic gathering as I struggle.

  And then the nightmare gets worse as a new monster comes out of the closet.

  At the other end of the hallway, Valerie comes into view. She’s still wearing her red and black cheerleader outfit from the game tonight, her skimpy skirt and long sleeved top. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a high ponytail with a sparkly crimson scrunchie. Her hand is on her slim hip, her blue eyes narrowed with hatred as she looks at me.

  “You stupid fucking bitch,” she says, her words increasing in volume as she storms down the hall.

  Hunter pushes me out of the way so he can get out of the bedroom. “Valerie—” he begins, a clear warning in his tone, but she doesn’t let him finish.

  “And you,” she says, eyes wide as she shoves him in the chest. “Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?”

 

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