For the first time... ever... I feel charmed, and I get the distinct impression that there isn't anything Belle would ask of me that I wouldn't give her.
Little brat.
Chapter 14
Maggie
I pull back the covers and place Belle in the middle of the bed in Bridger's guest room where I'd been sleeping. She normally sleeps in a crib, even though it was a ratty old one that Zeke had one of the guy's get for her from some yard sale, but Aunt Gayle assured me she'd been sleeping in her bed just fine without falling out. Besides, Belle has gotten to an age where she's climbing up and down on furniture and seems to have a little better grasp of gravity and such. I'm not so much worried about her falling out of the bed as I am of her waking up in the middle of the night and slipping out to roam the house where she could get in all kinds of trouble. Bridger actually had the same worries. As soon as he carried our bags inside while I carried a sleeping Belle, he went around the house and removed all the guns he had hidden around, locking them up in a cabinet in his bedroom. I could tell this weighed on him a bit, but he told me he truly felt the greater danger was in Belle messing with a gun than Zeke ever showing up here, so he felt the smart thing to do was secure them.
That warmed me... that his first thought was of Belle and nothing else, and that's exactly as it should be. I know he met her only about nine and a half hours ago, but those two just clicked. I know I shouldn't read anything into it, but Bridger... the man who holds himself so removed from intimacy that he has to come on my stomach or my back has had no problem in letting Belle walk all over him.
The entire drive from Coeur D'Alene to Jackson, Belle made Bridger sing songs with him. I was surprised he even knew some of the basics, because I can't begin to imagine what his past is like given some of his social hang-ups right now. But his childhood apparently revolved around some kid's songs because he easily pulled forth awesome renditions of "Bah Bah Black Sheep", "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", and "The Wheels on the Bus". Now, granted, those were really the only three he knew, so they got sung over and over again on the drive, but Bridger didn't seem to mind. While I was getting sick of hearing the same tunes repetitively sung, they'd finish a song and Belle would cry out from her car seat in the back, "Again."
And Bridger would sing with her again.
I'm not sure I've ever been as grateful as when Belle fell asleep after we stopped for a quick lunch at McDonald's--where Belle insisted on sitting in the booth beside Bridger--and I eagerly turned on the radio so I could listen to some adult music for a bit.
Pulling the covers up to her chest, I lean over, kiss her head softly, and whisper, "Goodnight, sweet pea. I love you." She's so exhausted from the long trip that she doesn't even stir.
When I step out into the hallway, I glance down to Bridger's room and see his door is shut. He'd said he was going to take a shower and that actually sounds like a good idea. I head across the hall into the bathroom I use. Within moments, I have my clothes shed and I'm standing under a steady spray of hot water while I consider everything that's happened during the past thirty-six hours.
Mostly, I think about Bridger and me and what transpired between us last night. The bridge we crossed when he finally fucked me, only to find myself standing across a chasm from him when it was all said and done. He said he's fucked in the head, and that his ideas of sex and intimacy are twisted. My heart aches when I think of him pulling out of me before he comes, because he says he doesn't like it, and that makes me feel wretched about myself because I know I'm not imagining the connection I have with him. He says he hates intimacy, yet he shows it to me all the time. I feel it in the way he kisses me or runs his fingers over my stretch marks while he stares at me with unbridled lust. The way he makes me come... like it's vital to him that I feel pleasure. Even the way he gently cleans me off after he spills himself onto me is an intimate act, but he doesn't seem to get that.
Regardless, I am not giving up on him. The man has the potential inside of him, I just know it. He's saved me, and now I want to do the same for him.
I finish my shower and take a moment to blow dry most of the dampness from my hair. After slipping into a pair of clean panties and a tight t-shirt, I make my way down to his room. He hasn't invited me there, but he didn't say he didn't want me either. While our trip today was filled with clean conversation in between "The Wheels on the Bus", I could still feel the current of attraction running between us.
I don't bother knocking on his door because I am not ready to hear him tell me to go away, so I open it gently and peek my head inside. His room is lit in a soft glow from the bedside lamp he has on, and Bridger lays there totally naked on his bed, propped up against some pillows and his headboard.
My heart stops beating in my chest as I see him stroking his cock, his eyes heated with lust as he looks at me.
"'Bout damn time you got in here," he growls.
"I wasn't sure if you--"
"Don't ever doubt my want for you," he says in a low voice, like smooth stones are tumbling within his throat. "Now get over here."
My panties immediate get soaked just from the naked need in his voice, and I hurry into the room, leaving the door open slightly so I can hear if Belle calls out to me.
"Ditch the shirt and panties," he orders me, his hand slowly working his hard shaft.
I scramble to comply, totally looking awkward and not sexy in the slightest, but the desire in his eyes doesn't dull and he looks like he wants to attack me. When I pull my panties clear, he holds his hand out for them.
I don't hesitate; I just place them in his palm. His fingers rub along the crotch, and he gives me a feral smile as he feels the wetness there. "Did you know it was torture all day today, sitting next to you in that car... smelling you... but not being able to touch you?"
See... that's intimacy, Bridger, whether you admit it or not.
I shake my head and he gives a dark laugh, crooking his finger at me to come closer. My feet obey and my heart feels like it's going to burst from my chest. Before I reach the bed, Bridger pushes off it and reaches into the drawer of the bedside table. "Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."
My stomach flips when he turns to me, a bottle of lube, a butt plug, and my panties held in his hands. My throat goes absolutely dry. "What are you going to do with those?"
"I'm going to shove these panties in your mouth so you don't wake up Belle when you scream, then I'm going to slide this plug into your ass before I fuck you," he says with dark promise. "And I promise... it's going to feel really good."
A cramp of longing hits me square between my legs, but I don't get on the bed as he demanded. Instead, I ask, "That the kind of kinky stuff that goes on at the club?"
He laughs, and it sounds amused and sinister all at the same time. "This doesn't even come close to the kink that happens at the club, Mags. Now get on the bed."
I let out a rush of nervous breath and do as he commands, not because I don't have the fortitude to say no, but because I most definitely want to say yes. I crawl onto the mattress, facing away from him, and raise my ass into the air as I go down to my elbows. I bow my head, look at the navy comforter, and wait to see what he does.
The first sensation is the soft glide of my silk panties across my ass just as the bed dips and Bridger comes up behind me. "You're fucking gorgeous, Mags," he whispers, and my heart flutters.
Then a hand is sliding down my butt, in between my legs, and his fingers softly rub against my pussy. He just circles them lightly against my damp flesh, driving me crazy for more of his touch. Finally, he dips a finger inside of me, easily sinking in because I'm soaked, and then pulls it back out. Dragging it up the crease of my ass, he taps the tip against my tight hole.
I gasp and squirm, both nervous and excited to see what he does.
"Open your mouth," he tells me.
I don't hesitate, raising my head and turning it to him so he has access. In goes my panties and I have a moment of panic that I won't be a
ble to breathe, but he doesn't push them in far, only enough to muffle my screams.
"Only thing that would be better is if I had the time to tie you up, but we'll save that for some other night," he murmurs to me.
I lower my head again, staring at the comforter, and my skin starts to prickle with apprehension when I hear the click of the lube cap and then feel a warm stream right over the crack of my ass. Bridger's finger is next, pulling the slick gel down and massaging it all around my hole. I can't help that my body pushes back against him... seeking more.
"Is your ass cherry, Mags?" Bridger whispers as he pushes the tip of his finger in.
I shake my head frantically, thinking of the times that Zeke fucked me there. He always used lube, thank God.
"Good to know," he mutters, pushing his finger all the way in. I gurgle against the panties, the feeling of his finger far too good and causing a burning need in me for more.
"I would fuck your ass right now," Bridger says, voice dark. "But I want that pussy too bad. I want that sweet, wet, tight Maggie pussy wrapped around my cock."
Oh, God. Oh, God.
Bridger's words are like ear porn, and I can feel wetness leaking out of me between my legs. I start panting against the silk in my mouth and if I were able to, I'd scream at him to just fuck me already.
But he has something else to do first.
Bridger removes his finger, and it's immediately replaced by the cool tip of the butt plug. I've never had one of those before, but as he slides it into me, my tender flesh stretching and then forming around it, I think to myself that I've not led a very full life without experiencing this. It feels amazing as he slides it into the hilt and then taps his finger against it a few times. That action makes me squirm and moan against my gag.
"Fucking beautiful," Bridger mutters, and his voice sounds strained.
I hear him rip into a condom and in my mind, I can see him rolling it on that long, thick cock of his. My mouth would be watering hard right now if the silk weren't sucking everything up. I wait for it... for him to slam into me from behind, but instead, he flips my body over until I'm lying on my back and he's looming over me.
He leers down at me, in a totally sexy way, and taunts, "Want to watch your face while I fuck you... want to see how good that plug feels in your ass while I'm doing it."
Oh, God. Oh, God.
I have never in my life had a man so focused on making me explore my kinky side and wanting to make sure it feels good to me. My experience with men is that it's all about them, and they couldn't give a fuck if I enjoyed it or not. All they cared about is if I moaned at the appropriate times and stayed wet throughout.
Bridger spreads my legs, uses a hand to guide the head of his cock to my pussy, and then he sinks into me slowly. His eyes stayed pinned on me the entire time, and mine immediately water from the overload of sensations. His cock stretching and filling me, rubbing against the plug that's separated by the thin veil of tissue in between, and pressing it further into me once he bottoms out. My forehead furrows, and I blink my eyes to dispel the moisture. Bridger's own eyes become worried as he asks, "You okay?"
I nod my head frantically, lest he thinks I want him to stop. I try to say, "I'm good," against the panties in my mouth, but it's absolutely unintelligible. Still, he accepts my nod and his face smoothes out.
"Good," he praises, lowering his elbows to the mattress by my ribs. "I'm going to fuck you so slow, you won't know where time has gone. Not going to touch your clit. Going to just make you come with the power of a slow fuck from my cock and that plug deep in your ass. Think you can do that for me?"
I nod vigorously again. He smiles so beautifully at me that the wind is knocked from my lungs. Bridger bends down, places a kiss on my cheek, and then starts to move inside me.
And oh my word... nothing has ever felt like this. Every nerve in my body seems to fire, and the sensation of his cock sliding in my pussy, rubbing against the plug, jamming it into my ass every time he sinks to the hilt... He's only about five strokes in and I already feel my entire body tightening with the need for release.
Bridger's hips swivel and gyrate, sinking into me from various angles. He stays slow and steady, and I marvel at his control and power. But for the sheen of sweat that immediately breaks out onto his forehead, I wouldn't know he was affected at all by this sensuous fuck.
But then he pulls out, and instead of a slow slide in, he punches his hips and drives into me hard. The plug jostles in my ass, his pelvis presses on my clit, and stars explode behind my eyes because the feeling is so intense. I scream against the panties, but it stays locked in the top of my throat with no means to escape.
A flash of triumph spreads across Bridger's face as he increases the power of his thrusts, seemingly forgetting that he promised me a slow fuck. I watch as his eyes start to flutter closed. He bites his lower lip, and I know he's starting to get lost to the pleasure along with me.
"Christ, Mags," he whispers in between panting breaths. "Why in the fuck do you feel so good to me?"
He sounds so wondrous and lost all at the same time. It makes my heart hurt a little. Bridger leans down and places his forehead against mine, his rough breathing feathering across my face.
"So good, baby," he whispers and starts to fuck me harder.
My orgasm brews... bubbles... churns hotly at the base of my spine. Bridger rotates his hips again, pressing down on my clit once more, and the pleasure jolts through me so hard that my hands fly to his head. I burrow my fingers into his hair. As he slams into me again, I scream against the panties and yank viciously at his hair without thinking what I'm doing.
Bridger's movements slow and he pulls his head up, twisting his neck and dislodging my hands as he pushes up and places his hands at the back of my thighs, giving him better leverage to start pounding at me again.
My orgasm curls inward... pulses a few short times as if it's gearing up to break free of a starter's gate, and with another slam of Bridger's cock into me, it springs forth and decimates my entire body. The minute I start shaking, Bridger quickly pulls out of me. I think he's going to come too, but, instead, he reaches down and jerks the plug out of my ass.
I shriek against the silk in my mouth, my orgasm going from a mere burst outward to a nuclear explosion. Then Bridger's cock is back in me. As I shudder and shake and lose all control of while the world's strongest and longest-lasting orgasm rages through me, Bridger raises my legs and almost folds me in half so he can fuck me even harder.
He pounds my body brutally, but it hurts way too good. I can feel him everywhere, with every stroke... even deep in my heart as crazy as that sounds.
His face becomes pinched, and I realize he's close to coming. I stare at him, his eyes lock with mine, and I beg him with just the power of my gaze to stay inside me. I tilt my head, raise my eyebrows, and grip desperately at his ass with my fingers to hold him to me.
And I think he may do it. I see a flash of determination bolstered by some out-of-this-world fucking, and my heart starts to feel like it's going to have its own bursting orgasm. Bridger's breath becomes choppy, his face looks almost pained, and just when I think he's going to plant deep and let loose, he jerks all the way out of me as he starts to come. He orgasms so hard and fast, he can't even get the condom off. Instead, he just falls on me where he dry humps the outside of my pussy while he shudders and groans his release.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles with his face pushed into my neck, his hips still gyrating slowly against me as he trembles. "I'm sorry."
I pull the panties out of my mouth and let the flood of saliva coat my tongue. My arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and I press my fingertips into his shoulder blades. "It's okay."
"I thought I could," he mutters, his breath still coming out in short bursts, which seem more panic filled than sex filled.
"It's okay," I say again softly, my hands flattening and stroking the skin on his back. "It's okay."
Eventually, his breathing evens out and he
finally lifts his head to peer down at me. "Maggie... that's all I've got to give you."
I smile at him, and I make it an accepting smile so he doesn't feel worse than what I already see deep in his eyes. "Then I'll gladly take it if that's all there is."
"It won't be more," he says almost sternly, making sure expectations will never be failed.
Stupid, foolish man.
"It's already more, Bridger," I reprimand him. "You're already more than what I ever had."
"You deserve more than that though," he whispers harshly.
"I've had so much less," I remind him with brutal honesty.
That doesn't reassure him as I see him wince and pain fill his eyes. He stares at me a moment more before rolling off me and heading into the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Chapter 15
Bridger
I open the front door of The Wicked Horse, the loud music washing over me. Cal and Macy follow me in. Turning to them both, I lean in and speak loudly. "This is the main club area. We have a full-time DJ but a live band on the weekends. Full-service kitchen over there."
"It's amazing," Cal says back with an appreciative smile as his eyes roam.
"Maybe we can try to two-step later, honey." Macy laughs as she snuggles into him.
I'm not sure if that was a serious offer by Macy or that's a euphemism for fucking, because they're not here for the nightclub. No, they flew from New York City to see the kinky grandeur of The Silo. We'd just arrived from having dinner in Jackson with Logan and Auralie, and while I invited them to the club with us tonight, they both declined. Again, no surprise. All my best Fantasy Makers falling to that crazy little thing called love, and while I don't think any of them are necessarily adverse to what goes on here, I think they're just so far up each other's asses right now with the newness of their relationships that The Silo has no appeal for them.
Not so with Cal and Macy apparently. While I get the impression they don't do this often, they still keep their sex life spicy by doing things like this. I lead them through the throng of nightclub patrons, down the back hallway, and out the rear door. We navigate the stone slate path aglow with landscape lighting to The Silo that sits a few dozen yards behind.
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