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CHAPTER13
* * *
Niall knew he’d had too much to drink but who could blame him? As if dealing with the death of his beloved wife wasn’t enough, he now had the doubts that the cops had planted in his head to deal with. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember any red flags, nothing to say that his wife had been having an affair.
Granted, he spent long hours at the bank, but surely he would’ve noticed something. She was always there when he came home and he couldn’t remember a time when he called her that she didn’t pick up the phone.
It’s true that they’d hit a rough patch almost two years ago, but she’d been dealing with post partum depression while he was going through his own issues with the onset of a midlife crisis. But they’d both weathered the storm with the help of their individual therapists and a marriage counselor. Not to mention the support of their friends.
As his mind went to their closest friends he thought of Riley and the bond that had seemed to form between the other man and his wife during that time. He never thought of it as anything more than friendship before, but… No, no way would he believe that his wife and the man he’d considered his best friend had betrayed him.
Sonya had loved Valerie too much to sleep with her husband surely and he’d never once seen the two of them act in any way untoward with each other. But the cop’s words kept playing over and over in his head.
He hated to give credence to her words, but why had Sonya changed her code without telling him? What other secrets had she been keeping from him? He realized then that the real reason he didn’t want the police snooping through his wife’s things is because he was afraid of what they might find.
What if she had indeed been having an affair, what then? His eyes went around the room they once shared and he looked at all the places she might’ve hidden her little secrets. He didn’t want to, but he found himself getting more and more upset at the thought that he’d not really known his wife after all.
And what was that about him going out to the old Miller barn behind her? Who had said they’d seen him? He knew for a fact that it wasn’t him. Had the person mistaken him because they’d seen his wife? What about the vehicle that was seen? He knew of only one other man who had the same car as him. Again his mind went to Riley and he found himself thinking of the younger man in a new light.
In his alcohol fused state the anger built until he was almost blinded by it. “That bitch!” The words came out slurred and disembodied as he fell back against the pillows, too drunk to get up and go through her things the way his mind wanted him to.
“Tomorrow!” I’ll go through her things tomorrow before that bitch of a detective gets her warrant like she’d threatened. If there was anything incriminating he owed it to his children at least to get rid of it, to keep their mother’s name without blemish.
But if it were true that she had been having an affair and if that man was indeed Riley O’Rourke, he’d kill him. He fell asleep on that thought, but his mind was still filled with thoughts of his wife and the last time he’d seen her.
* * *
In her roomtwo doors down Bridgette heard the murmurings coming from his room. At first she thought he was on the phone, but when he cried out she knew he was having one of his nightmares. It’s been a while since she’d heard the sound. In the past his wife had been there to soothe him. Her face reddened as she recalled the sounds that usually followed.
She tiptoed to her door and peeped out into the dark hallway that bore just a soft glow from the nightlight that was left burning through the night in case one of the children awakened.
The light was dull and low to the ground so did not offer much in the way of a guiding light but she was able to make out the door two doors down from hers by the swath of moonlight that escaped into the hallway. She made her way there now, her heart beating out of time as she approached the half open door.
A quick look into the darkened room didn’t reveal much. Everything was pitch black except for the bright colored sheets on the bed. She could make out the mound made by his body only after her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and from the intermittent mumbles in between snores it was obvious he was asleep.
“Sonya!” He called out to his dead wife before mumbling a few unintelligible words. She drew closer, keeping her eyes peeled to the floor lest she stumble into something and alert him to her presence. As she drew near she was better able to make out his words and she held her breath in shock.
She saw movement under the sheet he’d thrown over himself and then the sheet was gone and she saw what the movement was. He had his hand wrapped around his cock as he called out to the dead woman.
His mumbled words became clear as he moved his hand faster and faster on his cock, his free hand stretched out as if to hold something or someone in place. When she realized what he was doing her pussy got wet and her heart raced with excitement.
Being as careful as she could, her eyes going to his face in the dark with each breath she took, she got closer and closer, lowering her head until her lips were over his tumescent cock. As his hand moved down, she took the chance that she had been waiting for.
Lowering her head even further, she stuck her tongue out and licked the leaking head of his cock. When he didn’t respond by coming awake but seemed to stroke his cock even harder, she did it again, and again, until she was sure he was lost in a dream and not about to awaken.
She sucked just the tip of his cock into her mouth and held still when he hissed. When nothing more was forthcoming she sucked more of his growing cock into her mouth until her lips touched his hand. She didn’t dare remove his hand as she sucked him off, lest the movement jarred him awake.
“So good!” His words brought her to a quick stop until she was reassured that he was still dead to the world. She forgot herself as she enjoyed the feel of a cock in her mouth for the first time in way too long. Not that she hadn’t indulged since moving to the states.
But with her work schedule and the slim pickings in the town, her pleasures were far and few between. She’d dallied a little with both Nigel Thorne and Gary Wesley when either had had her route, but even those encounters had been rushed and less than fulfilling, what with Ms. Nettie always sniffing around and sticking her nose into everything.
But Bridgette was no stranger to pleasuring men and having them pleasure her, and what’s more, she was dang good at it. She’d had lots of practice after all, back home in the boring town she’d grown up in.
By the time she was sixteen she was a good little cocksucker and she’d venture to say, so was every female in the village. Why it’s how she’d been able to buy herself all those nice little baubles she liked, and had she not been caught at sixteen she might still be at it.
But after the grocer’s wife had caught her with her skirts above her head and her knickers wrapped around her ankles as her portly husband plowed the young girl’s belly, her reputation had been tarnished and all the women in the neighborhood had learned to lock up their men whenever she was around.
Her beauty had become somewhat of a curse, until her luck changed and the agency that had opened up in the next town over offered her a way out. It was a new program for those who wanted to come to America, matching them up with suitable families to sponsor them.
