Page 17 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

But I do.

And honestly, I don’t think I can stop it.

“Whiskey,” I say to the barman. Hating the sound of aggression in my tone.

He slides a tumbler of amber liquid across to me as I wait for the next girl to come onto the stage. But I can’t watch another auction. Not tonight. Leaving my drink on the bar, I stride away.

The elevator doors slide open and as I step inside, my phone buzzes. My ex-wife Jen’s name flashes on the screen. It’s the third time today and like before, I could ignore her, but I don’t.

I groan as I punch the button on the elevator panel for my private floor and then swipe to answer. “Hello.”

“Have you heard? Oscar and Nadia’s baby is here.” Jen’s voice carries that familiar excited tone. “And it’s a girl. They’re calling her Callie.”

“That’s wonderful.” Pride swells in my chest. My son, a father again.

“Will you come to Niall and Patrice’s on Sunday? Everyone’s gathering to meet her.”

I lean against the elevator wall. “I’ll stop by when I can.”

“We could be civil, Ronan. Share some memories.”

“I’m always civil, Jen. You’re the one who threw wine in my face at the charity gala.”

The elevator doors open to my suite. The same place where Lucia was, her skin glowing under the dim lights. I shake the image away.

“That was different,” Jen says. “I was angry about—”

“We can be civil.” I cut her off.

“Good. Then we can have a pleasant chat about old times at the Simmons’.”

I cannot think anything could be worse.

I end the call, turning the phone over in my hands as I stare at the place Lucia kneeled when my cock was inside of her mouth.

I want it again.

I want her again.

But truth be known, I’m terrified of how she makes me feel.

But like my fingers have a mind of their own, they find Lucia’s contact information. My thumb hovers, ready to call her. To explain my actions. Or lack of.

Instead, I don’t call her.

I send her a message:Tomorrow. Be at the club at six.

And then I hit send before I can change my mind.

When I look back, I realize this was the moment I knew I was screwed.

Chapter 5

Lucia

“The contract specifically states—” Mr. Peterson’s face reddens as he jabs his finger at the paperwork spread across my desk.

I hold up my hand to stop his rant. “I understand your frustration. The wording appears restrictive at first glance.”

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