Bridge of Lies Page 3

  "I'm not planning on keeping you here forever. Just long enough to make sure you’re safe."

  "So what then? You'll unhandcuff me tomorrow, and I’ll get on the helicopter and go to work?"

  He nodded. "Yes."

  "And you're not worried that I'm going to use work as the perfect escape opportunity?"

  "No, because you know we’re protecting your mum. You still want us to bring down Toby's killers. And since we know Middleton had something to do with it, the lads and I are the only ones who can help you. You're smart enough to know that. And don’t forget that Alex, one of ours, is there. We’ve got a few other plants inside thanks to Blake Security and the Royal Elite. They will identify themselves to you over the course of the week. You will have more eyes on you than a shit-eating fly. After all, I do want to protect my asset, don’t I?"

  "Yes, I know Alex, but—"

  "He'll alert us about your activities. And I've installed a tracker on your phone, which you will get back in the morning as well as your purse."

  "I don't like this, Bridge. We have to be able to communicate."

  "Well, you really should have considered that before you conspired with my father."

  "I didn't conspire with him, Bridge. He asked for a meeting and I agreed because I thought he could help. And maybe I shouldn't have. But—"

  "Maybe?" he bellowed. The sound was filled with so much rage and grief it rattled the windows. "Fucking maybe? It's one thing that you're reckless with your safety, Emma. It's another thing when you know, you know, how I feel about him, and you still met with him. It didn't even occur to you to talk to me first. So how could I ever trust you again?"

  I could feel his pain, and I hated the fact that I had put that pain there in his heart. "Bridge, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that. You have to believe me. I was trying to help."

  "I don't have to believe anything coming out of your mouth. I prefer truth."

  The sob escaped before I even knew what I was doing. I’d known how he would feel. I'd known it the moment I accepted the meeting. I had known it when I escaped the guard that was there to protect me, and I had put myself in this position anyway because I thought I knew better. I thought I could fix it. I thought that if I just got some answers, I could force things to go my way.

  But forcing never worked.

  I'd been like that my whole life, trying to make things happen, and sometimes it just didn't. But I found it incredibly difficult to accept that.

  "I messed up Bridge. I messed up, and then you kidnapped me."

  "It's not kidnapping. You're my wife. This is where we live now."

  “I thought you wanted an annulment.”

  He shook his head. “Get in bed."

  I lifted my chin. "Oh, kinky. You tempted?"

  A shadow fell over me as he stepped right into me, my chest grazing his abs and pecs. "No, I'm not tempted. I despise you. Everything about you. You will not trick me or tempt me. I am not that man anymore. You changed me, so that won't work anymore. And I see it for the act that it is. Frankly, I'm disappointed you think I'm so weak."

  I couldn’t hold back the sob. "I don't think you're weak, Bridge. I'm just trying to tell you that I love you."

  "And I'm trying to tell you I don't care. Now get into bed."

  That low growl in his voice sent shivers winding around my spine. But I understood. Bridge was not going to touch me again. Hell, Bridge was never going to talk to me again. And the information I had from his father wasn’t information I was going to be able to tell him, to help him navigate. And that didn't matter now anyway, because Bridge had thrown me away just like my father did all those years ago. And even though he was chained to me in bed, I was completely and utterly alone.

  Five

  Bridge

  I stirred in my sleep to the scent of my wife in my bed.

  My wife. I loved the sound of those words. Emma was mine and right where she belonged. All I wanted to do was wrap her in my arms and never let go.

  I rolled over and tucked her into me, and that brought her arse right in line with my cock. I wanted to let her sleep. I should let her sleep, but she didn't try to resist, and I was bloody horny. Through my half-dead consciousness, I could hear her whimper and moan as she snuggled back into me. Without hesitation, I kissed the shell of her ear. "How's my princess?" I whispered.

  All that came back was a mumble and another wiggle. She was testing me. I smiled in my sleep. Of course, she was testing me. It was Emma.

  I tried to move my arm down, but it was stuck in some way, which didn't really matter because I would figure out a way to have her if I needed to. Her voice was soft and breathy, and just the sound of it pulled the corner of my lips into a smile. "I love you, Ems. You know that."

  Her response was a garbled, "Um-hmm," but I knew she loved me. Knowing that made me feel ten thousand feet tall. But it also worried me because if she loved me, then someone could use her. Someone could hurt her, and I would be devastated, so I needed to look after her. Protect her the best that I could with my money and my name. I just needed her to not go covertly off into danger. Which, with Emma, was a lot to ask.

  She kept wiggling and whimpering, and I used one hand to slide down around the flat expanse of her belly and then between her legs as I palmed her sex. She was soft and wet, and she parted her thighs. "I see someone's been missing me. Bloody hell, you're wet." Her hips lifted, allowing me better access as I slipped my fingertips into her knickers.

  Consciousness tried to pull me out of the abyss of lust, but I did not let go of the warm, sleepy feeling. She was so soft in my arms, and for once in my life, I didn't want control. If I could relinquish it to her, I would. She could be the one to be the puppet master. I would walk over fire for her if I could, just waiting for her to tell me how much she loved me. But she wasn’t giving me those words. Just whimpers and moans and raised hips. Her hips rolled, and I moaned into her neck. "Fuck, Emma."

  And I heard it then; her whispered gasp of my name on the tip of her tongue, rolling it around as if testing it. I couldn't help it. My hand was in her shorts, tugging roughly as I rolled on top of her. Her fingers intertwined with mine, and with her other hand, her fingers delved into my hair as she tugged just a little and pulled my head back. I was forced to lift it, and I dragged my eyes open to meet hers.

  I smiled at her softly and then rocked my hips forward, grinding right against her clit. She whispered a low curse, and that was all it took. We were fighting each other's clothes, thanks to the fire climbing in our veins. The heat threatening to destroy us, consume us. I shoved my pajama pants down, which was odd because I didn't normally wear pajama pants to bed. Why was I wearing them?

  It didn't matter. All that mattered was that a simple shove down and a tug of her shorts meant my dick was rubbing against her cleft. Fuck, she felt so goddamn good. Like the promised holy grail of sweetness and light that I had been denied.

  But something stopped me. Something about this was wrong. I tried to force my eyes open, but they were heavy and clouded and so tired. If only I could open my goddamn eyes.

  When I finally managed to peel them open and peeked around me, I took in the dim light from the window as dawn made its appearance. And then I blinked down. Emma was beneath me. Her legs were splayed with my hips between hers. I dipped my head down. My cock was out and notched up against her sweet center. I muttered a curse and shifted forward slightly. She gasped. And with her free hand, she dug her nails into my shoulder. "Fuck, Ems. I'll go easy."

  "Bridge?" It was a question.

  I frowned down at her. "What's the matter?"

  She blinked at me rapidly. "Bridge, wake up."

  "I am awake." I notched forward again, and she gasped. Fuck. God, all I needed was—

  And then, out of the fog came a memory. Emma climbing out of a limo. Who was she with? Oh God, she was talking to my father. Emma struggling in her restraints as I cut them free. Emma pacing this room. Emma betraying me and then having the nerve to look so achingly beautiful. All I wanted to do was hold her and kiss her and love her. And I wanted to fuck her so bad my balls ached. Then the clarity dawned, and I remembered everything.

  Fuck. Fuuuuck.

  Unfortunately, my dick didn't get the message, because he was notched and nestled, and just the tip of him was inside Emma. And God, he was going to kill me if we ever had to leave. "Fucking hell, Emma."

  "You're the one who woke me. Rubbing up against me."

  Her eyes were clear. She was lucid. Her fingers were intertwined with mine, and were we handcuffed?

  Suddenly, the memories of last night came rushing in. Handcuffing myself to her so I could guarantee she'd be here in the morning.

  I groaned. "Fucking hell, Emma. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck."

  "We're already there, Bridge. We can't—"

  "Stop talking. Every time you talk, your whole body moves and I… Fuck."

  Breathe. Think of puppies. Think of math. Think of accounting. God, I hated accounting. Think of anything but her.

  Except nothing was getting my mind off how soft she felt. The heat of her. Her scent. Nothing was going to take my mind off the sweet heat of Emma's cunt.

  Sweat started to pop on my brow, and my legs shook as I tried to gain control of the situation. I tried to get a grip on my mind and my sanity as all I wanted to do was plunge deep and nestle there and never leave, even though I was so angry with her. Even though I wanted to hate her. I couldn't. I just couldn't hate her.

  And wasn’t that a bitch?

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  But the more I tried to pull back, the deeper I wanted to go. My whole body was fine-tuned for her, and it knew exactly where it wanted to be.

  "Bridge, stop torturing me."

  I growled down
at her. "Stop fucking moving."

  I could feel her, the little fluttering pulls of her tight pussy around the thick head of my cock, and I just glowered down at her. All my anger and rage at being in this position of not being able to trust her, of wanting her so bad I was willing to compromise everything, of needing to join my soul to hers no matter how dangerous that was.

  I fought it. I did. I did my level best to force my brain to give the command to pull back, abort mission. But the siren call of her pussy fluttering was too much to ignore, and then I drove all the way home.

  Her gasp was audible, and her mouth hung open. I fisted my hand in her hair and tugged until she released a shuddering gasp and dug her fingernails into my shoulder. Goddamn. She felt so good. Too good. The pulsating heat around my dick and the way she rotated her hips drove me completely wild. The way her lips parted and she breathed my name over, and over, and over, even as she whimpered, "Yes, right there. Right there. Bridge, Bridge, Bridge." And all I wanted to do was to make this last, to stay forever. But even as my body couldn't help but want her, always her, my brain was all mine. I didn't trust her. I didn't want her.

  I wanted my Emma. This version was not what I wanted. This version was a liar. But my body didn't care which version I had, because to me, they were all Emma with her scent and her smile and her laugh. And that little look of mischief when she was going to cause trouble, and I was ready to blow.

  Emma.

  They were all my Emma. And my body didn't give a damn. All it wanted to do was fuck her again and again and again. My body could not be trusted.

  I groaned out as she released my shoulder and then cupped my face. "Bridge, oh God, Bridge, I love you."

  And it was those words, the conviction, and softness in them, the sanctuary they offered, that made me angry and full of love all at the same time. All that made me do was yank on her hair harder, pulling her head back, exposing her throat. So I leaned down and sank my teeth into her flesh. I drove hard. Even as I could feel her pulsing and quivering and hear her gasping my name, I didn't blink because I wanted to shag the betrayal out of her. I wanted to finish this and not feel this way anymore. But there was no forgiving or forgetting. I already knew. She had betrayed me. And there was no coming back from that. I would not recover.

  But my body didn't care, because the moment she went off like a rocket, screaming my name at the top of her lungs, it was like the escape I had been looking for was right there at my fingertips. Lifting my head and watching her eyes go glassy as they rolled back in her head ever so slightly as her body pulsed around me, her heat flooded my veins like molten lava, disintegrating my brain.

  I let go. Properly let go and embraced the anger. And as I bit her, I groaned into her neck and prayed she didn't catch the words. "I love you. You belong to me." I picked up my pace to punishing. I wanted her to feel this later. To remember me with every step she took. I hinged my hips and changed the angle for her so I hit her deeper. “Fucking mine.”

  I slid my free hand down her back to her ass, lifting and cupping her soft flesh easily as I fucked her. “Say it.”

  “Bridge—”

  “Fucking say it,” I growled.

  “I’m yours,” she choked out as her pussy rippled around my cock.

  “You’d do well to remember it.” Even as the words tore out through clenched teeth, I could feel the truth with my impending orgasm.

  As the fire and bliss raced up my spine and my fingers dug into her ass, she whispered my name, and I knew.

  I might claim ownership, but she was the one who owned me.

  Six

  Bridge

  Congratulations. You are officially the piece of shit your father has always called you.

  What the fuck had I done?

  The last thirty-six hours demonstrated exactly what happened when I lost control. And of course, at the center of it was the old man. And Emma. I couldn't even explain why, by now, I hadn't learned to shove down all feelings around him. Why I hadn't yet learned to just let it go. Because if I had learned to do that, then I wouldn't have reacted the way that I did. Maybe I'd have Emma on a plane by now. Somewhere safer than here.

  She was literally in the lion's den. Sooner or later, someone was going to recognize that she was here and come looking. I could only protect her so much. I knew Ben and East had my back, but we were already treading lightly while making waves, making changes. One decision based on anger, fear, and resentment, and I'd put everything we were working toward in danger. What was wrong with me for fuck's sake?

  What's wrong with you is that you saw her with your father.

  I should get over that shit. Because even if I was angry enough to cut her off and never speak to her again, I hadn’t been able to keep from touching her.

  This wasn't just a bad habit like the thing with Mina. I still wanted Emma. Even knowing what she'd done, I wanted her in my bed, on top of me, beneath me, all around me. And I needed her to understand and apologize. I needed her to fix her betrayal. I just fucking needed her.

  I hated myself for it.

  My cock, however, was not remorseful. Matter of fact, at the mere thought of her and the way she’d screamed out my name a half hour ago, he wanted to climb right back in bed with her.

  Mate, it's five fucking forty-four in the morning. Go back to bed. Matter of fact, get back inside Emma.

  Wasn’t that why he didn't get a vote? He didn't use any brain cells. He kicked again in my shorts as if in annoyance.

  Well, it was what it was.

  In another room, where it didn't fucking smell like Emma and her jasmine shampoo, I shoved on a pair of black athletic shorts and a T-shirt and headed downstairs for a workout.

  The Van Linsteds, who had occupied the mansion before the power was passed to Ben, had upgraded the estate exactly how they saw fit. There were several swimming pools, a track, a basketball court, a squash court, a tennis court and a gym with all the latest machines. There was even a polo court on the grounds.

  I kept it simple. I needed to run as far away from Emma as I could.

  Normally, I went running with the lads on Tuesdays. It was the one time all four of us could get together outside of work. But I needed to punish myself in the fresh air right now, or I was going to do something foolish like climb back into bed with my wife.

  I jogged down the stairs and found one of the guards at the foot of the staircase, alert and on his watch. He turned when he saw me. "Good morning, sir. Will you be needing an escort? I think Becket is outside. If you want, he can change quickly, or I can. I run marathons too."

  I shook my head. "No, it's fine, John. I'm not the one who needs guarding. Make sure that no one gets in or out. No one makes it up or down the stairs. The other staircase is blocked, so she'd have to come down this way."

  "Yes, sir. Of course."

  I headed straight out the front door knowing freedom was calling.

  As kids when we were in the Pops at Eton, we'd come here to train. Hell, even before then. Little did we know at the time that we were being groomed to become the best and brightest in the world. We'd been invited here for sporting events. Squash, basketball, tennis, all of it. Just to test our athletic ability. We were told they were special study trips. Only those with the best marks got the opportunity.

  I’d had no fucking idea what it really was or what they were really doing. They were picking us out, grooming us for the Elite. The best and the brightest.

  The whole time, our fathers had been watching. I hadn't realized at the time that Toby and Emma's father was the primary counselor at Eton. So he had access to all of us, including his own son, to assess, judge, guide, and to speak to the headmaster about.

  We'd all come to these grounds and been tortured a little. Occasionally, fights had broken out, which they’d allowed. But we'd also been taught about politics and legacy and all that bullshit.

  As I ran out onto the grounds now, the same grounds I'd been made to run on barefoot at times, this time I had clarity. This time, I had calm. Because this time, I had control. I had power. I wasn't the scared kid begging for someone to accept me or give me their approval. I was a grown-ass man.