The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  I never really thought Riley’s mom would come around on me, not after the things she knew about, let alone the things she didn’t. But that… that’s more approval from her than I ever aspired to.

  I feel a little awkward about it, but I give her a hug, anyway. “Thanks for coming over, Michelle. I appreciate it.”

  She pats my back, clearly feeling as awkward about it as I do. “We’ll have to get better at this if you’re sticking around.”

  Caught off guard by her acknowledgment of the awkward hug, I chuckle as I pull back and look down at her. “Yeah, we will.”

  She smiles faintly and takes a step back. “I’m glad I didn’t piss you off. I know my unsolicited advice could have backfired, I just thought it was worth the risk.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not afraid to admit when I’m wrong.”

  “That is a trait I very much admire, and it’s all too rare.”

  “I’m gonna marry your daughter,” I say, point-blank. “Just so we’re clear.”

  Her smile widens. This time, it reaches her eyes. “You know what? I kinda hope you do.”

  Chapter Fifty Four

  Riley

  I skip school on Tuesday.

  I didn’t skip school even during the worst of times when Hunter was gone, but I’m worn out and in need of a mental health day, so I take one.

  After working late last night, Mom’s off today, so we enjoy one last mother-daughter day together.

  Well, I hope it’s not the last, but I know we’ll have fewer of them once Ray officially moves in this weekend.

  Everything’s changing.

  That’s life. It’ll be okay. I just need a little time to process all of it.

  Mom orders us Chinese food for lunch, and we eat it on the couch while we watch our third episode of Jeeves and Wooster for the day.

  It’s a British comedy that aired long before I was born. Copies of it aren’t easy to find, but the Sunday Hunter gave us his credit card and Mom took him up on his offer to spend however much we wanted, she ordered the full series on DVD.

  “This is amazing,” she tells me, her eyes glued to the screen as she twirls her fork to wrap the lo mein noodles around its tines.

  I nod in agreement. “I don’t know why we ever watch anything else.”

  “Or go to school or work,” she adds. “We should become professional couch potatoes.”

  “I don’t think the pay is very good,” I tell her. “How would we afford Chinese food?”

  “Eh.” She waves off my financial concerns. “I’ll just sell you to that rich boy down the street. He can be our benefactor.”

  I crack a smile as I scoop up some fried rice. “I think if you sell me to Hunter, I’ll be available to watch TV with you much less.”

  “We’ll negotiate some kind of schedule to split your time between us.”

  “I’m glad you’ve put adequate thought into my purchase agreement.”

  She nods and flashes me a smile. “I only have one daughter to auction off, I’ve gotta make sure you fetch a good price and the terms are to my liking.”

  I dip a piece of chicken into my sweet and sour sauce. “Good thinking.”

  A few seconds pass, but instead of dropping the playful topic altogether, Mom looks over at me and asks, “Speaking of Hunter, have you heard from him today?”

  I nod, but I take a bite of my chicken so she won’t expect me to talk right away.

  Yesterday when I came home in the middle of the school day, Mom was understandably surprised to see me. Given how emotionally exhausted and upset I was, I also didn’t have the composure to pretend nothing was bothering me.

  I ended up venting to her about everything—the gross picture being texted around to virtually everyone in our grade, what Sherlock did to Valerie’s car in retribution, and Hunter being a jealous, emotionally exhausting jerk.

  It still doesn’t feel natural to talk to Mom about Hunter, though. If I’d been more in control of my emotions, I probably wouldn’t have shared so much.

  Once I’m finished chewing and I have no more excuse not to answer, I say, “He texted me earlier to ask why I wasn’t in school. I told him I was playing hooky and spending the day with you.”

  “How’s that going?” she asks before taking a bite.

  I shake my head, looking down at my rice. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I’m taking a day off from all that chaos.”

  “Okay,” she says easily. “Well, I just want you to know you can talk to me about him if you need to. I know he’s been a sore subject in the past, but I told you I’d be open-minded, and I mean it.”

  “I know. I appreciate it,” I assure her. “You know what else I appreciate?”

  “Hm?”

  “Hugh Laurie in a comedic role. I was skeptical when you first suggested we watched this. I wasn’t sure I could ever look at him and not see Dr. House, but I find lighthearted Laurie quite acceptable.”

  Mom grins at me. “See? I told you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I still prefer him as House,” I say, before she gets too carried away with her gloat.

  Mom rolls her eyes. “Well, of course you do. You’re drawn to troubled men.”

  I cock a disbelieving eyebrow at her. “And you’re not? How’s Ray’s loan situation these days? Still resisting dirty money, or…?”

  She sighs, her shoulders slumping forward with defeat. “We’re too alike in ways I don’t find convenient.”

  I crack a smile, but don’t pursue this line of conversation. I don’t want to talk about either of our relationship issues today, I just want to kick back, eat some delicious Chinese food, and focus on the hijinks of Wooster and Jeeves.

  ___

  Spending the day blowing off steam with my mom was exactly what I needed.

  By the time I crawl into bed that night, I’m much more relaxed.

  If I allow my thoughts to drift to tomorrow, I do still dread going back to school, but I try not to think about it. It’s not something I can control.

  Yes, I loathe high school, especially now that Hunter’s back, but at least I’m almost finished with it. As long as I don’t get caught up in the bullshit, I can finish this year and move on with my life.

  I’ll be starting college soon, and college will be completely different.

  College will be amazing.

  I sigh happily thinking about it. I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face, fantasizing about a picturesque campus in autumn, classes with brilliant lecturers, and all the culture of Boston. I bet there are a lot of great coffee shops, too.

  I don’t know what time it is when I jerk awake from a dead sleep to someone climbing onto the bed behind me.

  My bed.

  Nobody should be climbing into bed with me.

  My heart explodes as a hand clamps over my mouth before I can do more than gasp in surprise.

  “Shhhh.”

  It’s a sound, not a voice, so I can’t make out who it is. I tell myself it has to be Hunter, and I believe it, but I still feel unsure when a hand slides across my hip and his fingers slide into the waistband of my panties to push them down.

  “Hunter?” I murmur against his hand, just to make sure.

  No answer.

  I’m only wearing an ugly nightshirt and panties, so once he shoves those down around my knees, he has a lot of access to me. He uses it, sliding the hand that isn’t clamped over my mouth between my thighs, hooking his leg around mine and spreading them open so he can tease me better.

  A jolt of arousal courses through me as he forces my legs open and pulls me back against him. My eyes drift shut as his fingertips lightly brush my entrance.

  He slides his hand up my abdomen, then pushes it up under my nightie and fondles my breast.

  “Don’t worry, baby.” Relief pours through me at the sound of Hunter’s voice. “You don’t have to say yes. I just need to use your pussy tonight. I won’t be able to sleep until I do.”

  Arousal trickles
through me at his naughty words.

  I love this game. I don’t know how he got into my locked house, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to be played with tonight, but my guards are down enough from being woken from a dead sleep, and besides that, I missed him. If we can play under the dark blanket of night and then pretend nothing happened in the morning, I can live with that.

  My body comes alive as he plays with my breasts and teases my nipples. They harden at his touch.

  He hardens, too. I feel his hard cock pressed against my butt as he touches me. Feel it harden even more as he slides his hand between my legs and I moan against his palm.

  “Fuck, Riley.” He kisses the side of my head, then shifts his body. Since I’m lying on top of him, I shift with him.

  I hear him unzip his pants so I know he’s taking his cock out. He keeps his hand sealed over my mouth, but his grip has eased. It’s not tight as he shoves into me, so my sharp cry is louder than I intend it to be.

  His hand on my mouth tightens and he rolls me onto my stomach, crushing me beneath him as he pushes more of his cock into me.

  “Shhh. You don’t want me to get caught, do you?”

  I grab my pillow and squeeze the life out of it as he pushes so deep inside of me, it feels like he’s gone too far. I’m too full of him. It almost aches.

  It feels good to be that full of him, though. I can’t help moaning as he eases back, and then drives into me again. Once more, he goes so deep it feels like he’s in my guts, but it’s a heady feeling, being possessed like that.

  He doesn’t talk to me much tonight, just buries me in the mattress as he fucks me. It’s not a punishment though, so despite bruising my flesh with his greedy hands and filling my bedroom with the sounds of his skin slapping mine while he fucks me, he makes sure it’s good for me, even though he said he just needed to use me tonight.

  He uses the hand that’s not covering my mouth to squeeze my pussy like he’s claiming it, to play with my clit while he fucks me. As a result, my pleasure builds and builds.

  I hope he doesn’t do another one of those double whammy orgasms that melted my whole mind... but I kinda hope he does, too.

  I want to warn him, to remind him that my mom’s upstairs asleep and if he makes me come as hard as he did that one time over the weekend, I might not be able to hold back a scream.

  But when I go to warn him, I realize he has my mouth covered. Even if I do scream, he can probably muffle it.

  “Your pussy likes to be used doesn’t it, Riley?”

  His filthy words make me moan, but his hand over my mouth saves me from having to answer, makes it almost a taunt.

  He slams into me so hard, my whole bed moves.

  “You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow without thinking about me.” He murmurs the words in my ear like he’s whispering an endearment, but the words themselves are greedy and possessive. He doesn’t want me to be able to sit down without thinking about him. He doesn’t want me to breathe without thinking of him. If he could leave an impression of his dick in my lungs so I wouldn’t be able to, he damn well would.

  Jealous, possessive jerk.

  There’s no sting in the words when I think them right now, though. I reach back and run my fingers through his hair, cradling his head and pulling him closer as he fucks me.

  He’s a lot to deal with, but I love him so much.

  His lips find my neck. I dig my fingers into the soft pillow, my eyes drifting closed. He pounds into me harder and faster every time he pulls out. He wants to make good on his promise. He wants me to ache for him tomorrow.

  I ache for him all the time. Surely he knows that by now.

  As if he doesn’t and he still has a point to prove, he fucks me harder and harder, forcing me deeper and deeper into my mattress. It gets harder to breathe, especially with his hand covering my mouth, but he never moves it. Not even when my cries and whimpers grow more and more frequent, and he knows I must be getting close.

  He shoves a finger in my pussy and starts to flick my clit again as he fucks me and kisses my neck. Butterflies break loose in my tummy, flying over eroding, sinking land. I feel like I’m coming apart.

  Desperation to break away from him takes over. I’m too afraid I can’t take it and keep quiet, but he has me trapped, pinned down to the bed. I can’t go anywhere even if I want to.

  That ratchets up my arousal even more.

  I try to cry out his name, but it’s smothered against his palm.

  I can’t breathe.

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode.

  My insides feel like they’re going to explode.

  And then they do.

  My broken, euphoric cries are muffled against Hunter’s palm, but even so, he presses my face into the pillow to further smother the noise.

  The orgasm rocks me, my pussy squeezing his cock and pumping his cum into me as he lets go, groaning and cursing through his own orgasm.

  Tremors of pleasure continue to rock me as I curl up on my side.

  Hunter settles in behind me, locking an arm around my waist and pulling my body snugly against his. Tears have gathered in the corners of my eyes, but I’m not sure why. I’m not sad. I’m too fucking satisfied to be sad.

  I feel a little shattered, just like I did last time he did that to me. I don’t know how he does it, makes the orgasms more intense. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, because my mind is literal jelly.

  Hunter takes advantage, holding me close and kissing me tenderly, whispering reassurances and endearments and all sorts of lovely words as I try to pick up the fractured pieces of my mind.

  He’s not covering my mouth anymore, so I’m able to say, “You’re so good at that.”

  Hunter chuckles, pressing another kiss to the side of my neck. “Am I?”

  “You know you are,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “Don’t pretend to be modest. We both know you’re not.”

  “I wasn’t being modest, just pointing out your limited expertise on this subject. You’ve only ever fucked me,” he points out. “You don’t really know if I’m good at it or not. Maybe all sex is that good.”

  “Is it?” I ask.

  “No,” he murmurs back, reaching around to take my hand and press it against the mattress.

  I snuggle up in his arms like a contented kitten, but I’m not content at all. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “I wish I didn’t,” I mutter.

  His voice a touch more solemn, he says, “I know. I haven’t made it easy for you. I’m sorry.”

  We don’t say anything more for a while, he just holds me and I enjoy his warmth while I have it.

  When I feel close to drifting off, I rouse enough to roll back and tell him, “You should probably go. I don’t want us to fall asleep again. If my mom catches you in my bed, it’s going to be weird.”

  “I’ll leave before she gets up,” he promises. “I have my alarm set on my phone just to be safe. Just let me sleep with you for a while.”

  “Okay,” I murmur sleepily as he snuggles me closer. “One more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “How did you get into my house?”

  “The key that was in your purse the night you left it at Valerie’s. I didn’t think she should have it, so I made her give it to me.”

  That’s a relief. I completely forgot to tell Mom we might want to consider changing the locks, but after a while, I assumed Valerie must have thrown it away.

  “I was actually worried about that for a while. You could’ve given it back to me,” I tell him.

  “Nah. Wanted to hold onto it in case I ever needed it.”

  I shift, finding a comfortable place to rest my head on his muscular bicep and closing my eyes. “Stalker.”

  Amusement thick in his tone, he says, “I’m too hot to be a stalker, remember?”

  “Mm,” I murmur sleepily. “It’s courting when you do it.”

  “Exactly.”

  I smil
e faintly, shaking my heavy head. “You’re so crazy.”

  “You love me anyway.”

  “I do. I must be crazy, too.”

  Chapter Fifty Five

  Riley

  Hunter fucks me again before the sun rises, but true to his word, he’s gone by the time my alarm goes off for school.

  I’m almost a little sad about it, though. I didn’t hear him leave, so I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  I know I’ll see him at school, but it’s different there.

  I go through my morning routine, more tired than usual. Mom remarks on it as I pour myself a second cup of coffee, but I can’t exactly tell her Hunter snuck in the house and kept me up half the night.

  I’m more prepared for the bullshit as I make my way into school today, so it doesn’t bother me as much. Plus, there are no surprises today.

  I make it through my morning classes, and Hunter is there waiting for me when I get to English. I slide into my seat next to him and open my notebook.

  “You were missed yesterday,” I tell him.

  Clutching his heart theatrically, he says, “Aw, you missed me.”

  I smile faintly. “Not me. Mrs. Dowd,” I whisper. “All day without one glimpse of your handsome face. I think it made her meaner.”

  Hunter smirks as he opens his own notebook and draws out his Gatsby assignment. “My apologies. I’ll make sure I don’t skip any more classes. Don’t want to make your day harder.”

  “Yeah, sure you don’t,” I murmur, shifting in my seat, remembering the words he wielded in the middle of the night.

  Hunter catches the movement too and looks over at me, his eyes glinting with amusement. “A little sore?”

  My cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Shut up.”

  He smirks, looking pretty satisfied with himself.

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t help myself: I smile.