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She turned her head. Her body was screaming for him, a primal demand that warred with the last vestiges of self-preservation that told her she was dangerously close to losing herself, to losing her grip on the distance she’d built between them, brick by painful brick over the past four years. The distance hadn’t let her forget, but it had enabled her to go on breathing without him even when it seemed impossible.
His kissed her neck, nudged her face to make her look at him, her hands still pinned above her head.
“I know it’s true,” he whispered as he kissed her. “Tell me it’s true.”
She kissed him back, her eyes filling with tears. She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to make false promises, didn’t want to hurt him again when the little bit of reason she had left was telling her nothing had changed.
“I’ve always been yours, Nolan.” It was true, and Nolan, more than anyone, deserved that truth. “I’ve always been yours.”
He sank back into her with a groan and released her hands. She sighed, wrapping her hands around his back, digging her nails into his skin, wanting more proof that he was real, that he was flesh and blood and not another dream.
“You feel so good, Bridge. So damn good.”
She moved with him, picking up a familiar rhythm, everything old made new as he plundered her body, driving into her with so much force she gasped, withdrawing inch by inch only to push into her again, forcing himself through her swollen channel, burying himself inside her so that every thrust sent shockwaves through her clit that traveled to every corner of her body, lighting the fuse of another orgasm.
She wrapped her legs around his thighs and lifted her hips, rising to meet him on the downward thrust. He reached under her and lifted her ass off the bed, pulling her even closer until she was half in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, just enough room between them for him to drive into her again.
She held his face in her hands, watching his eyes change from blue to green to amber, watching four years of pain and loneliness pass over his face as he thrust into her, faster and harder, until her orgasm was undeniable.
“Come with me, Nolan.”
He lowered his head to her shoulder with a growl and pushed upward into her with a fierceness that took her breath away.
She gasped, crying out as he pounded a path through her body, her orgasm rising like floodwater. She was buoyed along with it, expanding until her skin couldn’t hold her anymore, until she was bigger than her body, releasing a wave of pleasure that rolled through her like a tidal wave washing away everything in its path.
All her sorrow and all her loneliness and all her fear.
She was only distantly aware of her voice in the darkness of the room, of Nolan’s groan as he shuddered against her, their bodies coming forcefully together again and again, locked in their embrace, limbs intertwined, moving until they’d wrenched every ounce of pleasure from each other’s bodies.
When it was over he sat back on his knees and pulled her closer, her legs still wrapped around his waist, her arms around his back. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. She’d never seen so much pain in their depths.
She’d never seen so much love.
“I fucking love you, Bridget.” His voice was full of anguish. “I know you don’t love me, but don’t lie and say that this isn’t real.”
She wanted to correct him, to tell him she did love him, she’d never stopped loving him. She wanted to make everything right, to start over again with the truth.
But she couldn’t make herself say the words, couldn’t do that to him.
Because however much it hurt him to think she didn’t love him, it would hurt more to know what she’d done, to know that she’d sold their love for half a million dollars.
“It’s real.” She kissed him. “It’s real.”
It was all she could give him.
16
Nolan woke suddenly and looked around the room, momentarily disoriented. It was still dark and he started to reach for his phone to check the time when he realized what was missing.
Bridget.
She was standing on the other side of the bed, already in her jeans and buttoning her shirt.
“Bridge.”
“I have to go,” she said.
“Don’t.”
