The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  “You want me to go with you to Italy,” I echo.

  “You can even bring your mom, if you want to,” he offers. “I mean, I’d like to spend most of the time exploring with you alone, but I know you said she never got to travel because of having you so young. We can fix that. My dad’s flying me over on his jet, so it makes no difference if it’s just you and me on the plane, or we bring one more.”

  “I…” My head is spinning a little. “She has a boyfriend now.”

  Hunter shrugs. “He can come, too.”

  “I can’t go to Italy with you,” I say, frowning even as the words leave my mouth.

  “Why not?”

  Yeah, why not?

  “Well… I don’t have a passport.”

  Hunter smiles at me. “Spring break is a ways off yet. You’ve got time to get one. I want to take you to New York in December, too. Not for a photo shoot, but my dad has this gala ball every year in Manhattan. It’s the next time he’ll be in the states, and I’d like you to meet him.”

  “You are throwing a lot of things at me right now.”

  “Don’t say you can’t go because you don’t have a ballgown, either,” he says wryly, spearing a piece of steak.

  “There are a lot of reasons. I feel like a lack of ballgown is pretty low on the list, actually.”

  “Name one—a good one.”

  “Um… I’m not your girlfriend. These are girlfriend activities. Meeting your family at a ball, flying to Italy with you for a romantic getaway. These are girlfriend activities, Hunter. Like, a serious girlfriend.”

  “Well, I am serious about you,” he states.

  “I can’t…”

  “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

  I look at him and cock an eyebrow.

  “What?” he tosses back. “You think Sherlock’s the only fucking guy who’s ever seen The Princess Bride?”

  I reach for my wine glass and take a big, greedy gulp. “You’re gonna have to give me a minute to process all this. I don’t want to say no out of hand, but…”

  Hunter reaches for his own wine glass. “Take all the time you need. In the meantime, let’s get you a passport and a pretty blue ballgown.” His gaze slides to me, a glint of amusement in his deep brown eyes. “You know, just in case.”

  Chapter Forty Seven

  Riley

  After dinner, I insist on cleaning up.

  Hunter offers to help, but I tell him I have it under control. We’re planning to head to his media room and watch a movie once dinner is all cleaned up, so I suggested he go pick a movie.

  Instead, he stays and “keeps me company.”

  Maybe I should’ve let him help.

  Denying him seems to have left his hands idle and looking for trouble.

  I’m trying to concentrate on washing the dishes while he stands behind me, his strong arms wrapped around my waist.

  That’s nice, but then as I’m scrubbing a dinner plate, his hands creep up and start to caress my breasts.

  My heart beats extra hard, but I try not to let my interest show. “I’m going to finish these dishes, mister, regardless of your attempts to distract me.”

  He pushes his hips forward and his bulge strains against my ass. “Are you sure?”

  My heart rate picks up even more. “We’re supposed to watch a movie together before we go to bed,” I remind him.

  “Who said anything about bed?” He moves my hair aside so he can kiss the back of my neck.

  I try to focus as his soft lips move across my intensely sensitive skin, scrubbing the plate extra hard.

  One of Hunter’s hands remains on my left breast, but the other slides down to my ass. He runs his hand over it, then squeezes.

  I’m wearing leggings instead of jeans tonight, so I feel his touch more acutely through the thin fabric. When he slides his hand forward and cups my pussy in his hands, I feel that more intensely, too.

  “Hunter…”

  “I want these off.” It’s the only warning I get, then he’s pushing his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and shoving my pants down.

  My heart jumps as cool air hits my suddenly bare legs. I look around on instinct, even knowing we’re in the house alone. It doesn’t seem right to get naked in the living room. I still feel like someone will see, but… I guess it is just us…

  My heart still flutters, but I step out of the leggings so Hunter can pull them off me.

  I’m more conscious of the pounding in my chest as I stand here in front of him, washing the dishes in my T-shirt and a pair of black panties that I bought just for this weekend. They’re black and lacy, not quite a thong, but they don’t cover much of my ass. I bought the panties because I thought Hunter would like them, but I didn’t consider how it would feel for him to actually look at me in them.

  He’s certainly looking at me now. He stands back so he can look at my ass and legs. I can feel him looking me over, but he’s not touching me.

  Even not touching me, knowing he’s staring at me with that hungry gaze of his makes my heart work harder, my breaths come a little shorter, a little faster.

  Then I feel his warm hand on the bare flesh of my ass and I jump a little.

  “Your ass is perfect,” he says, moving up behind me, pressing me closer to the counter. He keeps his body at my back and slides a hand in so he can cup my pussy again, this time with only a bit of flimsy lace in the way. “So is this,” he murmurs lowly in my ear.

  I swallow, inching my legs open just a little so he can hold it in his hand.

  With two fingers, he begins to rub me.

  I put down the dish and my scrubber, grasping the edge of the countertop. “Hunter, you can’t do that if I’m ever going to finish the dishes.”

  “As long as you keep scrubbing, I’ll behave. I won’t make you come until you’re finished,” he says, voice low, his breath hot on my ear. “But if you keep letting me distract you from your work… well, you’ll still finish, but the dishes probably won’t get cleaned,” he says, his tone a mix of amusement and arousal.

  How am I supposed to focus on doing the dishes with him touching me like that?

  I close my eyes for a few seconds and try to regroup. It’s hard to even breathe with him teasing me the way he is, but finally, taking a slow, deep breath, I pick up the scrubby and the dish again.

  As I scrub the dish, he strokes the lace covering my pussy.

  I finish cleaning it as quickly as I can and move on to the next one.

  Hunter starts rubbing my ass with his other hand, then he slides a hand between my legs and slips a daring finger under the scanty lace.

  I gasp as his finger grazes my bare entrance.

  I know he said he wouldn’t make me come as long as I kept scrubbing, but I don’t want to break his dishes. I put the dish down before I drop it and grab the edge of the sink again.

  Hunter kisses the side of my hair. “You’re so fucking sensitive. I love it.” His lips graze the shell of my ear. “Did you ever touch yourself when I was away, Riley?”

  Heat climbs my neck, but I nod.

  “Yeah? Did you ever think of me while you did it?”

  The flush deepens, climbing even higher. “Yes,” I say, a touch shyly.

  “You better hurry up and finish these dishes, Catnip,” he tells me smoothly. “At this rate, I’m gonna win.”

  It’s hard to breathe, but I crack a smile. “I didn’t realize it was a game.”

  “Stick that pretty little ass out.”

  I’m not sure if his praise, his touch, or his direction makes me blush harder. Whatever causes my skin to flush so deeply, I stick my ass out like he told me to, then I grab the scrubby and make my best effort to keep cleaning.

  “Let’s see,” he murmurs thoughtfully as he continues to toy with me. “What should I get if I win?”

  The blunt tip of his middle finger moves inside me, pressing against my clit. I rise up on my tiptoes trying to get away from th
e sensation and scrub more frantically at the dish.

  “I think if I win, you blow me while we watch the movie.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “And if I win?”

  “If you win, I’ll hoist you up on this countertop and eat your pussy.” He kisses the side of my face. “Gotta finish the job, after all.”

  I look at the dishes I have left in the sink. It’s not many, just our wine glasses and a couple of forks.

  Surely I can get those clean before he can make me come.

  Even if I can’t… I mean, it’s not like there’s a loser in this scenario.

  “All right,” I say, looking back at him. “You’re on.”

  Flashing me a devilish smile, he says, “Excellent,” then he grabs my jaw, turning my head so he can reach my mouth to give me a real kiss.

  As soon as he releases me, he slides his hands into the waistband of my panties and starts to slide them down.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, starting to squeeze my legs together. “I thought—”

  “We didn’t establish any rules,” he tells me. “I make you come, I win. You don’t come until after the last dish is clean, you win. I can do whatever I want to make you come, and I want your panties off.”

  “Wait a minute, that’s not what we agreed to. I thought you could only touch me like you were.”

  He bends down to get me all the way out of my panties.

  I sigh at the big cheater and step out of them.

  He smirks up at me, then reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head as he stands.

  I sigh. “You get to be shirtless, too? This isn’t fair.”

  “Home-field advantage,” he says lightly.

  The sight of him shirtless is all the distraction I really need not to be able to focus on the stupid dirty dishes.

  His body is incredible. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. I know I’m pretty biased on account of being so fond of him, but he’s the actual embodiment of physical perfection—all bronzed skin and cut muscles. My stomach feels funny just looking at him standing there, subtly—maybe even accidentally—flexing as he turns to drop his shirt on the floor.

  And his back muscles. Do not let me get started on his back.

  “Why are you so sexy?” I demand, somewhat accusingly.

  He smirks, walking over to me. “Good genes, good workout regimen.”

  I drop the scrubby and reach out to touch his abs. “Just… so pretty.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he murmurs smugly, backing me up against the counter. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he starts to pull it off.

  I try to pull it back down. I’m not excessively self-conscious about my body, but looking at his… it’s too bright under these kitchen lights. I cannot compare.

  “I’m gonna cure you of this shyness,” he informs me, pushing my hands away and drawing my top off anyway.

  “I’m so pale, you’re going to need sunglasses,” I warn him.

  Hunter smirks. “I love every inch of this skin, pale or tan. Makes no difference to me.”

  I pout as I look down at the V disappearing into his jeans. I want to lick him.

  Dammit, he’s going to win.

  But… if he wins, I get to lick him.

  And I get an orgasm.

  This really is the best game ever.

  Now I’m wearing a bra and nothing else, but even that seems to be too much clothing for him. He moves closer, pressing his hard body against all my softness, then holds my gaze as he reaches back and unclasps my bra.

  I swallow as the band goes slack and the material falls away from my breasts.

  I have a feeling we’re not really going to play this game we spent all that time making up the rules for.

  Hunter reaches for me, tugging my naked body against his. He’s still wearing jeans, but I’m stripped completely bare.

  Not fair, but better than the alternative. If his pants come off, I’m officially forfeiting.

  “Just as a reminder, if at any point this weekend we decide to have sex, we need to use a condom,” I tell him. “My mom said she would give you a chance, but only if you don’t knock me up for a good ten years.”

  “That seems like a long time.” He locks his arms around me, dropping his head and kissing the exposed swell of my left breast.

  “We might be able to get her to come down on that a smidge, but if you knock me up before I graduate, I think it’s safe to say her opinion of you will be cemented.”

  He kisses his way closer to my nipple. “High school or college?”

  “I’m on birth control now, so as long as we make it another couple of weeks, we should be in the clear until we actually want to have kids.”

  Hunter stops and smirks at me.

  I don’t realize why until I replay what I said. “I mean, if we were to ever have children together. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” he teases.

  “Which seems unlikely.”

  “Because you hate when I fuck you,” he jokes.

  “I see you naked and—” I gasp as his hot mouth latches onto my nipple. Releasing a shaky breath, I try to finish. “I run straight for the—” His tongue flicks across the tight bud. With a sigh, I forget what I was even trying to say.

  “What was that?” Hunter asks, amused.

  “Don’t gloat, it’s not cute.”

  He lets go of my nipple to grin up at me, then he turns me around and starts walking me backward, still with his arms locked around my body.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Movie room. Remember?”

  “I didn’t finish the dishes,” I say, with a longing look back at the kitchen island as he drags me away.

  “We have a dishwasher,” he states.

  “But—”

  Hunter’s lips crush mine and my words slip away. His hands skim my sides and slide down my body until he’s cupping me under the ass, then he lifts me.

  I break away from his mouth as he lifts me off the ground, feeling a bit unsteady. On instinct, I lock my legs around his waist.

  “You should have let me keep my panties on,” I say, conscious of this position.

  Hunter shakes his head, carrying me like my weight is nothing. “You can rub that pussy against any part of my body you want to, Riley. You don’t need panties.”

  Jesus. My stomach twists. I want to hide, but there’s nowhere to go.

  Hunter carries me all the way upstairs like that, then hauls me into the media room. It’s an intimate movie theater, essentially, with three rows of reclining chairs and then two long, red couches in the back row.

  Hunter hauls me to one of the couches.

  He didn’t turn the light on when we came into the media room, but he did hit the light in the hall once we got upstairs, so although it’s mostly dark in here, there’s light spilling in from the hall.

  Hunter lays me down on the couch, then stands.

  I don’t speak. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I watch him strip off the rest of his clothes.

  When he’s completely naked, just the sight of him makes me throb between the legs. Then he steps closer and takes my hand, bringing it closer and wrapping it around his cock.

  I’m cognizant of him watching my face as I look at him. My fingers wrap around him a little tighter. I sit up. Hunter remains standing, letting me touch him and explore this part of his body.

  Any self-consciousness I felt before melts, giving way to curiosity.

  Hunter’s the only man I’ve ever seen naked, but looking at him, it’s hard to imagine ever caring to see anyone else. He’s so beautiful, every single inch of him.

  His dick is no exception.

  I let go of it so I can grab his hips and pull him closer to me.

  As he moves closer, I spread my knees so he can stand between them. My hands slide around to grab his firm ass. I look up and catch him smirking at me.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Just wishing I’d have turned the light on so I could see how furious t
hat blush must be.”

  Running my hands over his smooth, muscled butt is definitely making me flush, but it’s only a little bit because I’m embarrassed.

  Since I’ve pulled him so close, his cock is practically right in my face. That’s where I wanted it, so I let go of his butt, grip his cock again, and experimentally give it a gentle tug.

  “Lick it first,” he tells me.

  He has more experience here than I do, so I follow his direction.

  I lean in, sticking my tongue out and running it along the underside of his cock. When I hear him inhale sharply, I drag my tongue along the side of it, tracing an angry-looking vein. I follow that vein to the swollen head, then I angle my head and drag my tongue across that, too.

  Hunter groans, pushing his fingers through the strands of my hair.

  I look up at him. “Like that?”

  He nods, his beautiful eyes hooded. “Just like that.”

  I smile, then turn my attention back to his cock.

  Gripping the base in one hand, I start exploring his length with the other. I lightly run my fingers down the hard shaft. He’s so hard, but so soft at the same time—especially the tip. I tease his swollen head with my thumb while I kiss and lick the sides. Then, once I’m sure he’s pretty well lubricated, I begin to pump my hand up and down, up and down.

  Hunter’s head lolls back.

  “You should get on the couch,” I tell him.

  He grabs my wrists and I let go, then he releases me and climbs onto the couch. He lies down on it, but spreads his legs to make room for me between them.

  Perfect.

  Now that he’s more comfortable, I get on my hands and knees and crawl closer. I grab his cock and pump it a few more times, then I lower my head and take the tip of him between my lips.

  Hunter groans, and my heart beats faster.

  I run my tongue over the smooth head of his cock again, then open my jaw a little wider to take him deeper.

  I don’t know exactly how to do this, but I figure it can’t be that hard to figure out. Groans and desperate grabs at the couch cushion should mean I’m doing good, silence… probably not so good.