The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  “Oh, I’ll fucking talk to you, all right,” he says, slamming me back against the wall so hard, I gasp at the impact. His gaze drops to my bottom lip. His jaw locks. I can see the rage burning in his eyes, imagine the memory of another man’s mouth on mine flashing through his mind.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I know how it must have looked, but he’s your friend, Hunter. I would never do that to you.”

  Hunter nods, but I can see in his face he doesn’t believe me. “Right. That’s why you’re dressed like that, huh? Because you’re not interested in him? I saw you laughing at him at lunch today.”

  My stomach drops.

  “Is he funny, Riley?”

  I stiffen as Hunter leans in, hovering near my neck, but not kissing it. It’s more like he’s sniffing around, making sure no rival animal has marked any more of his territory than my mouth. Like he’ll be able to smell him on me.

  “I swear to God, Hunter, it wasn’t like that. I thought he was being friendly. He made it seem like he was being friendly. He lured me here under the pretense of helping you. I never would have come to your party with some other guy. You know me. You know that.”

  “I don’t know what I fucking know anymore, Riley. I know Sherlock’s no purse-holder. I fucking know that.”

  I’ve never seen Hunter this angry before. He got jealous of Anderson at Valerie’s party, but that was nothing compared to this.

  I guess he didn’t really see Anderson as a threat.

  The same can’t be said of Sherlock.

  “I don’t like him,” I say softly, looking up at him, pleading with him to believe me. “I don’t. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

  Hunter lets go of my shirt with one hand, sliding it up my neck and grazing the side of my face before pushing his fingers through my hair and making a fist. “No, not on purpose you wouldn’t,” he says quietly.

  My stomach drops when I catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.

  He’s been drinking.

  “But you can’t really help who you like, can you, Catnip? God knows if you could, I wouldn’t like you.”

  I swallow, my heart skipping a quick beat. I look down just so I don’t have to look at him. “That’s mean, Hunter.”

  He scoffs. “No, it’s not. You want to see mean?”

  Still avoiding his gaze, I shake my head.

  I know he’s angry, but beneath that he’s hurt, and I feel absolutely awful about it.

  He lets go of my shirt and my hair. For a split second, I feel relief, but then he grabs my purse.

  I’m so stunned, I scowl at him and try to grab it back. “What are you doing?”

  He’s a hell of a lot stronger than I am, so he has no trouble ripping it away from me. “I want to see what you have in here.”

  “What?” My heart drops when I remember what’s in that purse.

  Oh no.

  I reach for it. “Hunter, no. Give it back.”

  His eyes narrow suspiciously.

  Fuck. I’ve only interested him in the contents more.

  I lick my lips, thinking fast, but I can’t come up with a way out of this.

  He opens the purse.

  “Hunter, don’t,” I plead, reaching for it again.

  He pulls out my phone first, but doesn’t try to open it. He draws out my wallet next.

  I close my eyes as he reaches into the bag one more time.

  And pulls out a condom.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Riley

  Accusation hangs heavy in the air as Hunter holds that small, foil-wrapped package between his fingers.

  My stomach rocks so violently, I think I’m going to be sick.

  I open my eyes and utter words I already know he won’t believe. “I didn’t bring that because I had any plans to use it. It was purely a precaution, and not for him—I put that in there after homecoming.”

  Hunter closes his fist around the condom, squeezing it like he wishes it was Sherlock’s throat.

  Or maybe mine. I’m not sure anymore.

  “Were you going to fuck him tonight?”

  My heart jumps to my throat. “No.”

  As if I haven’t even spoken, he leans closer. Angrier. “Were you going to fuck him in my bedroom, Riley? Is that what you were going to do?”

  “No.” I shake my head more desperately. “Hunter, you know I would never, ever do that.”

  “You stole my idea and turned it against me. I knew you were mad at me about Valerie, but that is immensely fucked up.” I jump as he tosses my purse and all its contents on the floor and stalks over to me, his beautiful features twisted with anger.

  “Hunter,” I say warily, putting my hands up like some kind of shoddy, makeshift barrier. “I didn’t. I wasn’t going to sleep with him. You have to believe me. I didn’t even kiss him—he kissed me, and it was only what you saw. We weren’t kissing before that.”

  He grabs my arm, yanking me against his muscular body.

  I gasp in surprise, but I don’t fight him.

  “Did you want to fuck him, Riley?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous again. “I got your first time over with and opened you up for business. Now you tell me no. Were you gonna tell him yes?”

  “No,” I cry, my heart sinking as he starts dragging me toward his bed. I try to push him away, but his grip on me is too tight. “I told you, I wasn’t going to—”

  “Might not have mattered,” he interrupts. “He’s rougher than I am. More aggressive.” He locks his arm around my waist, crudely pulling me against him so I can feel how hard he is. “Do you know that already? Maybe you like it.”

  My racing heart is already in my throat, then in a move he executes so quickly I can’t be sure what’s happening, he eases his grip, tugs me away from his body, spins me around, and shoves me forward onto his bed.

  I catch myself, bracing my palms on the mattress.

  I’m not afraid, not really, but… I am wary.

  Hunter has always stopped when I told him to, but I’ve never encountered him drunk before, and right now he’s hurt and angry on top of it. When he got jealous of Anderson at Valerie’s party, he did get more aggressive—and that night he was sober. Alcohol isn’t known for calming aggression in people, as far as I know.

  “Hunter, you’re drunk.”

  “How perceptive.” He yanks my knees out from under me, flattening me against the mattress.

  Anxiety tightens my chest. “You’re drunk, and you’re mad. Slow down. Let’s talk about this.”

  “Nothing to talk about,” he mutters. “You were going to fuck my friend.”

  “I wasn’t. Why won’t you believe me?”

  He yanks up my skirt, sliding his hands over my ass and squeezing. “You brought a condom and you’re dressed like you want to be fucked, Riley. Sorry I’m not the guy you had in mind, but I’m happy to oblige.”

  He wouldn’t.

  He won’t.

  I’m… 99% sure.

  That other one percent gets lodged in my gut as he yanks my panties down.

  Stop gets stuck in my throat.

  If I say it, everything changes.

  If I say it and he ignores me…

  He has fucked me before. Maybe it’s not such a big deal if I... let him?

  I didn’t want to let him touch me again after he fucked Valerie, but… well, I’m not sure this entirely counts. I’d only be letting him to protect us both from getting burnt up in the heat of this awful moment.

  I gasp as he yanks me closer to the edge of the bed, positioning me the way he wants me and prying open my legs so he can get between them.

  No, no, no. Not like this. It’s not supposed to be like this.

  “Hunter, please...”

  He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down. His fingers dig into my flesh, greedy and demanding, taking what I’ve been reluctant to give freely.

  I know he’s not in his right mind. I know he’s not thinking clearly.

  I know that I still wa
nt him, too, whether he’s angry and mean or tender and loving.

  I’m still a little scared.

  Normally, I can want him and still resist. Right now, if I resist… this becomes an entirely different thing.

  Another boundary he won’t respect.

  I can’t risk that. Dealing with the first crossed boundary is hard enough. There can’t be two.

  My heart hammers wildly in my chest. I plant my hands against the mattress, drawing a rushed, nervous breath as I try to crawl forward to get away from him.

  Maybe I can’t tell him no, but if I can evade him, buy him a couple of minutes to calm down… he’ll see reason. He’ll stop.

  His hands close around my thighs, prying them apart and dragging me back to the edge of the bed at the same time.

  I hear him unzip his pants.

  My heart sinks.

  This is going to happen. There’s no stopping it.

  “Condom,” I say quickly, turning my head to try to look back at him. “Hunter, please use a condom.”

  “Oh, yeah. That would ruin your plans, wouldn’t it? Getting saddled with my baby. Maybe you already are.”

  “I’m not,” I tell him. “And it would ruin both of our plans, not just mine.”

  “I meant your plans with Sherlock.”

  I sigh, momentarily exasperated. “That’s because you’re being crazy. There is no me and Sherlock. Hunter, please, let go of me. Let’s talk.”

  Instead of talking, he aligns his bare cock between my thighs, presses the swollen head against my entrance, and shoves into me.

  I cry out, losing my breath and going rigid against the mattress as he stretches me.

  Fuck, that stings.

  I didn’t entirely expect it, and my body tenses up even more at the sudden ache as he fills me so aggressively.

  I dig my fingers into the soft fabric of his bedspread and try to regroup. Since I only had sex the one time and he did nothing to prepare me this time, my body is tight and unwelcoming. He has to force his way even more now than the night he took my virginity.

  He’s not being as considerate tonight, either.

  I clutch the bedding tighter as he drives deeper before I’m ready, my knuckles turning white from the strain. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying like hell to relax my body so I can take him more easily, but I’m too tense.

  “You’re hurting me,” I say, my stomach sinking even as I utter the words. I’m terrified to tell him. Terrified that—in the moment—he won’t care.

  I know he’ll care later, when he’s not so blinded by rage.

  He’s such a fucking hothead sometimes.

  Anger wells up inside me. I try to get up on my knees so I can dislodge him and get away from the discomfort.

  “Uh-unh,” he murmurs, holding onto my hips to keep himself inside me as he climbs on the bed. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  My heart stalls at the hardness of his words.

  I swallow. Some of my ire dissipates, replaced by caution.

  He’s not backing down, so I guess I have to this time.

  “You don’t want to do this, Hunter. Not like this. Please, just put a condom on.”

  “I take it you’re not pregnant,” he murmurs, keeping one hand on my hip, but easing his body down so that he’s on top of me, burying me in the pillow-top mattress.

  “No,” I say softly. “I would’ve told you, but you weren’t speaking to me.”

  He doesn’t say anything to that. His cock is still shoved into me, but not as deep as it can go.

  He pulls back, giving me momentary relief, then eases in less brutally.

  My body still strains to fit him. I squeeze my eyes shut, my stomach twisting up as he shoves deeper and stretches me around him.

  It feels like a violation, but not an unwelcome one, if that makes any fucking sense. I wish he would’ve put a condom on his dick, but despite the discomfort, it feels good to have him inside me again.

  I’ve wanted him inside me again before now, I just couldn’t say yes.

  Tonight… he didn’t ask.

  My emotions are tumultuous as he fucks me face down on his bed. There’s no tenderness, no care for me, only greedy possession. I don’t get the sense he wants to make love to me right now, he just wants to make me take him, to punish me for coming here tonight with another man.

  I don’t know how to feel about it.

  My body seems to, though.

  Tension starts to build from the friction of him slamming into me over and over again, but he doesn’t do anything to kindle the flames of my pleasure.

  This claiming isn’t for me. He doesn’t want me to come, he just wants to remind me who I belong to, like he said on the card in the first flowers he sent me.

  I don’t mind, not really.

  I feel a twinge of regret when his fingers dig into my flesh and he comes inside me, though. He used my body and filled me with his cum, despite my protests. It doesn’t get much more brutal caveman than that.

  Hunter collapses on top of me, his face resting against my shoulder as he recovers from his orgasm.

  Once he has recovered enough strength to move, he shifts his weight.

  Cum leaks out of me as he pulls out of my body.

  I close my eyes, still face down on the mattress. I don’t want to look at him right now. “You came inside me.”

  “Sure did,” he says without shame as he drops onto the bed beside me. “Maybe this time it’ll stick.”

  My stomach drops. I open my eyes and turn my head to stare at him. “That’s a fucked up thing to say, Hunter.”

  “Sherlock won’t want you then.”

  “Jesus Christ. I don’t care about Sherlock,” I snap.

  He reaches a hand toward my face, grazing my bottom lip with his thumb.

  Just like that, my anger and hurt melts away. The guilt comes back.

  I didn’t kiss Sherlock, I certainly didn’t give him permission to mark my lip like that, but I did agree to his crazy plan in the first place. I did what he told me to, I dressed the way he told me to dress. I don’t know why I did any of that, but I did get a little caught up.

  I did feel some type of way when he looked at me in the car.

  I’m not guilty of anything, but I don’t feel entirely innocent, either.

  “I can’t even kiss you,” Hunter mutters. “I don’t want to taste him on your mouth.”

  Shame cinches my gut. “I’m sorry he kissed me, especially in front of you. I didn’t want to hurt you. You may want to hurt me sometimes, but I never want to hurt you.”

  Hunter shifts, positioning a pillow under his head, and looks over at me. “Why did you come here with him, then?”

  “I told you,” I whisper, a touch hopelessly. “He tricked me.”

  He appears unconvinced. “You’re not dumb enough to fall for his tricks.”

  I laugh bitterly, but the sound is smothered against the mattress. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? He distracted me. He told me you were in pain, and that’s all I could see. It wasn’t rational. I broke a dozen different rules of common sense, I ignored my instincts. I can’t defend myself in that sense. I did something really fucking stupid. I’m human. I do dumb shit sometimes, especially when my feelings are being manipulated.”

  “I can’t believe you let him manipulate you,” he mutters.

  “I can’t, either,” I agree. After a moment, I say softly, “He used you. You’ve always been my weakness.”

  Hunter doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, his tone somber, he says, “Yeah. You’ve always been mine, too.”

  Chapter Forty

  Riley

  When my eyes open, the room is dark.

  My bed is more comfortable than I remember it being, so I roll on my side to snuggle up with a pillow, but when I go to grab my extra one, I only grab empty air.

  I’m on the wrong side of the bed.

  My mind clears and I realize I am not at home in my own bed.

  I fell
asleep in Hunter’s bed.

  I sit up with a gasp, blinking away my drowsiness as I look around for a clock.

  Oh my God, we fell asleep in bed together.

  Again.

  My mom’s going to slaughter him.

  I look around the dark room in search of a clock so I can see just how much trouble I’m in, but those thoughts rapidly vacate my mind when I spot Hunter.

  He’s awake, sitting on a chair beside his bed. His shoulders are hunched forward, his head hung. His handsome face is bathed in moonlight, so I can see his somber expression.

  He looks over when he hears me gasp.

  “Hey,” I say, a little more uncertainly than I mean to. “What are you doing over there?”

  “Wasn’t sure you’d want me in the bed,” he says, his voice low, a little raw.

  I push up on my elbow. “It’s your bed.”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  Hunter laughs, a short, harsh burst. “Am I okay? Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I say the word, but it doesn’t sound like I’m finished with it. I don’t understand why he got out of bed, but I don’t like it. “What time is it?”

  “A little after two.”

  “Do you know where my phone is? I need to text my mom.”

  He nods, getting up off the chair and walking over to retrieve my purse and all the things he dumped out of it onto the floor.

  “Thank you,” I murmur as I take my phone.

  I light up the screen and see it’s 2:14. I also see that I have three missed texts from my mom. The first one is from 45 minutes ago just asking if I’m coming home soon, then there are two more since I didn’t answer her.

  “Shit,” I mutter. It’s so late, but… I don’t really feel like I can leave right now.

  Hunter and I got quiet after he was finished with me. I assumed we both fell asleep. Now I’m not sure, maybe only I did. Whatever the case, we still need to talk. If I leave his house tonight, I’m not sure we will.

  “Your mom?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I look up at him. “Will your mom care if I stay the night?”

  His eyebrows rise in surprise. “No, she’s not even here. She’s out of town. I have the place to myself.” He pauses. “You want to stay the night?”