Page 39

~ brIDGET ~

I was shaking, curled up on the floor in the hallway between my garage door and the bedrooms.

“Bridget? Bridget, turn on your video.”

I’d put him on speaker and felt like I needed to shush him. What if they were in my house? What if they had set up cameras here and—

“Babe, look at me.”

I looked down at the phone, staring at the image of Sam staring at me intently as he walked through the forest.

“Jeremy’s threatening to find you and arrest you, even if you haven’t done anything illegal.”

Sam snorted, but I saw the shadow pass behind his eyes. “My lawyers would have a field day.”

“Yeah, but… I mean… you’d get asked and… and you’d be honest, right?”

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “So, no more picnics.”

I nodded sadly. Then let my head sink back against the wall, because even the idea of going another whole month without him made me want to hyperventilate.

“Babe… Bridget.”

I looked down to find him right up in the screen, the bare glimpses of the forest behind him dimming and moving because he was walking.

“Bridget… listen to me. My voice—focus. ”

I nodded.

“Bridget, you need to breathe.”

I sucked in a deep lungful of air and blinked.

Sam nodded and started counting breaths for me. “It’s a panic attack, babe. You need to breathe through it and focus. I’m here. Right? I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if they find these phones?” I said through numb lips. “What if we can’t even call—”

“Stop. Stop thinking about things that haven’t happened. Look at me. I’m here, right? I’m with you.”

I nodded, inhaling long and slow through my nose, then blowing it out of my mouth.

“Listen to me… Nothing but my voice, you hear me? I’m your fucking world.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Good, now take off your shirt.”

I laughed. It was kind of high and shrill, but it was real. “Sam, I’m not—”

“You do as I told you,” he growled in Cain’s voice and my heart fluttered at the same time my core ached.

I didn’t feel sexy. And this phone sex stuff was never really where it was at for me. But seeing his eyes—so dark and his expression so stern, I wanted to listen to him.

So, I hurriedly nodded, then put the phone down across the hallway, leaning it against the wall so I could see him with my hands free. Then I unzipped my thin jacket and pulled off the camisole underneath that was still a little skewed because Sam had messed with it.

“Naked. I want you naked.”

I was torn between thrill at him and his attention, and wanting to cry and hide in bed. But then I thought… to hell with it.

I took off my shoes and threw them down the hall, then lifted my hips and slipped my leggings down.

When I was naked and bent both my legs up, Sam growled and my belly fluttered. God, I loved his sounds.

Then I was just sitting there naked, a little chilly, and staring at him in the phone.

Sam had stopped moving and was staring into the phone, eyes dark .

“Lick your fingers,” he said gruffly. I did as he said and he nodded. “Now, you put those pretty fingers exactly where you want my tongue.”

It was a little robotic, but I did as he said, and my body responded which made me inhale sharply. Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Use your other hand on your breast the way I do,” he rumbled.

My nipple was hard because it was cold. The extra sensation started filling that hot pool of need behind my navel and my breathing sped up.

Sam was nodding, his eyes bright. As I kept touching and rubbing and moving my hips, he cursed.

“Keep going. I need to do something,” he rasped.

I watched as he looked away from the phone, left and right, then turned. A minute later he’d propped the phone on something—in the branches of a tree, I thought, because Sam leaned against something behind it and fumbled at his jeans.

Seeing him braced on one hand over the phone, looking down on me, and his jaw clenching, eyes hot, just the way he was when I could touch him… it made desire jolt through me.

Then he got himself loose from his jeans and started palming himself. He was already hard and his voice got tight and breathless as he continued to slowly pump into his own hand and stare at me, still leaning over the phone.

“Keep going,” he rasped. “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Every touch, every scent, it’s all me. All mine. I’m doing this to you, Bridget. You hear me. That’s my finger. My lips. My tongue… all that need you’ve got, I’m going to take it and give it back to you the way you like it… right?”

“Yes,” I breathed immediately. “Yes.”

He growled. “Add another finger, spread yourself, show me.”

I did, and the sound that came out of his throat made my whole body jolt.

“Oh, fuck, Sam—”

“Faster,” he rasped. “Just the right amount of pressure, get your fingers wetter.”

I slid my finger inside myself and Sam groaned—and that sound made my core quiver .

“Now, close your eyes and focus on my voice,” he said hoarsely. I did as he said and let my head sink back, still touching myself, still pinching and kneading my nipple with my other hand, my heart racing and body thrumming.

“That slickness, that’s because I’m feasting on you, babe,” he growled. “That touch, that’s my hand—feel me grabbing you? I can feel your nipple. It’s hard under my palm so it scrapes. I love that feeling, babe. It makes me want to bite it—”

I pinched my nipple and gasped, and Sam groaned.

“I want to touch you until you come. I’m kissing your neck and nipping that little spot under your ear,” he rasped. “You feel me, Bridget? Feel my fingers inside you?”’

I nodded and curled two fingers into myself, biting my lip as want sparked again and again, those surges of need that send tingling waves through my bloodstream.

“I’m not stopping, babe. I’m never stopping. I’m sliding down your body and putting my tongue on that sweet, pink flesh, right there,” he groaned.

My jaw dropped as the next wave of pleasure had a punch to it. My head was rolling back, my hips starting to buck, and I was pulsing inside. Getting closer and closer. I stopped hearing his words, let his voice wash over me—and it brought with it the perfect blend of dark and light. The demand I couldn’t deny. The loss of control. Even as I fell safe in those arms.

“Sam!”

“Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop. I’m almost there, Bridget—I’m taking you… now.”

I plunged fingers into myself, gasping and grinding against my own palm as my body hitched and jerked and that wave of pleasure bowled through me, lighting my bloodstream and making every hair on my body stand up.

I whimpered.

“Look at me, Bridget!”

My eyes flew open in time to see Sam pump, his hips jerking hard and his mouth drop open, jaw rolling as he came—groaning, cursing, and growling my name over and over.

Our eyes locked and I was torn between crying and screaming his name.

When I shuddered and slumped, Sam was already sagging over the phone, his forehead sweaty and body jolting, twitching .

Moments later, half-elated and half-hollow, I sat up and reached for the phone. When I brought it up to my face I could see the flush on my cheeks and how my eyelids were heavy.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

But Sam, who was also straightening himself and picking up the phone, shook his head. “Don’t do that, babe.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Look like it’s over,” he said, his face filling the screen. “Don’t you give up on me.”

“I’m not!” I said frantically. “I’m just… scared.”

“We’re going to be fine. I’m going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that! And I can’t stop thinking about having to stay away from you for so long for the trial—and then we might get separated forever .”

Sam shook his head, his Adam’s apple jumping. “No. No. God brought us together, Bridget. He won’t do that.”

I stared at him sadly. “I wish I trusted that.”

“I’ll trust it for both of us. Bridge, for now, focus on me. I love you . I’m here to help you. We’ve got this. This is a season to get through. Then we’ll be together and this will all be over.”

“I hope so, Sam. I really do. I love you.”

“I love you too, but we’re not saying goodbye. You take me with you to clean up. We’re going to bed together.”

I frowned at him, but in the end I couldn’t deny that there was something cute and sweet about his insistence on being in the shower with me, then laying down “together.”

I got to watch him hike all the way out. And see that there was no one waiting for him at his car. I got to take the drive with him while I ate dinner in bed.

Later, when I could finally breathe right, I propped him up against the pillow and went to sleep.

It wasn’t the same as having him there. But he was right. It was better than being alone.