Page 83 of Never Your Girl

“God, the sounds you make,” he murmurs against my skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Bridger...” His name comes out somewhere between a warning and a plea.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and what I see there makes my heart stumble. There’s desire, yes, but something else too. Something that looks dangerously close to?—

“No,” he cuts me off, his voice low and raw. “No more interruptions.”

He leans in, and the rest of my protest melts away the moment his lips claim mine again. Our tongues tangle and teeth scrape. A groan works its way free from him as my arms slip around his neck to pull him closer.

One hand falls from my cheek before drifting down my breasts and rib cage.

He pulls away long enough to mutter, “Have I mentioned how fucking hot you look in that outfit?”

“I think?—”

He swallows up the rest of my response as his hand slips beneath the band of my skirt and into my panties. I whimper when he grazes my clit before sliding two fingers deep inside my core.

“Already wet for me, huh?”

He nips my lower lip as he pumps in and out of my pussy. His eyes remain locked on mine, intent and hungry, as if he’s determined to catch every fleeting emotion that crosses my face. The intensity of his gaze only deepens the intimacy we’re sharing.

We don’t break eye contact as I find my release. He continues to stroke me the entire time. It’s only when he’s wrung every drop that my knees weaken.

His fingers are still buried deep inside me when he says, “I’m willing to bet your pussy tastes just as sweet as your mouth.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

His teeth flash in the darkness that has fallen as he withdraws from my body before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them deep into his mouth. Arousal floods his eyes as more wetness leaks from me.

It’s only when he licks them clean that he says, “I was right. Just as sweet.”

Before I can come up with a pithy response, my phone buzzes with an incoming message. I groan, remembering that Bridger invited himself on a double date with Mom and her new boyfriend.

“Think it’s Mama Tate?”

“Stop calling her that,” I say with a snort. “But, yeah, it probably is.”

“Should we check to see what she has to say?”

“Just so you know, you’ve officially ruined this moment.”

His lips tremble with a smile as he smacks another kiss against my mouth and slips his hand into the pocket of my jacket before pulling out my phone and glancing at the screen.

“You’re right, it’s Mama Tate.”

“Pretty sure she doesn’t want you calling her that,” I can’t help but point out.

He refocuses on my cell. Maybe if I still weren’t in an orgasmic haze, I’d swipe it away from him.

“Hmmm. You’re not password protected? That’s surprising. I would have expected a higher level of security from you.”

“Maybe that’s because nosy fake boyfriends have never been a problem in the past.”

His gaze dips to my lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, muffin, things have changed.”

“Apparently so.”

When he continues to stare, I clear my throat. “What does Mom have to say? Has she taken pity on me and decided to cancel? Something came up with Jigsaw? Puzzle night at the club trumps dinner with her only kid?”

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