Page 7 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

I lean in, my voice low and gravelly. “I get to see you come undone when I want to. I get to touch your skin, to feel your body shiver underneath my touch as I run my fingers up your spine, across your hips, between your thighs.” My gaze intensifies and I watch as she wriggles in front of me. “I get to taste what ismineand see your eyes widen and your mouth ajar, just as you are right now.”

She chuckles nervously. “You really just say it as it is, don’t you?”

“It’s the only way, Miss Simmons.”

She tilts her head to one side and considers me for a moment. And I like it until she says, “So, I’ll be like a high-class hooker?”

I lean back in my chair, my gaze locked on Lucia’s face as I consider her words and realize this is her problem–or mine. “You’re not a prostitute, Lucia,” I murmur, my voice low and soothing. “I’m simply taking ownership of your debt. In return, I will get to enjoy your company. Own your trust, and have your obedience.”

I reach out, my fingers brushing against the back of her hand. “All I want is for you to not worry about anything. To give yourself over to me, completely.” My eyes search hers, willing her to understand and believe me. “Just don’t ever lie to me, Lucia. Be honest with me, and I’ll take care of you.”

The server arrives with my food, and I nod my thanks, pushing the plate of chicken salad towards Lucia.

Her eyes open wide and she shakes her head. “I can’t take your food,”

“I bought it for you. Now eat,” I murmur, spearing a bite with my fork and lifting it to her lips. Her eyes go even wider in surprise, but she parts her lips, allowing me to feed her. “I don’t want you losing your curves.”

I lick my lips as I savor the way her mouth parts around the fork, the way her tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of dressing. Imagining how she’ll look on her knees, parting those delicious pink lips for my cock.

“As for how it will work,” I continue, trying to push those thoughts away, but my voice is rough with barely contained desire as I say, “Friday evenings, we’ll go somewhere discreet fordinner.” I pause, my gaze dropping to her lips again. “And then, whenever I need you, I’ll summon you to the club.”

Lucia’s brow furrows slightly. “Only the club?” she asks, her voice soft.

I nod, my hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I can’t take the risk of you coming to my home,” I admit, my thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek. “But the club is safe, private. No one will know.”

She looks so disappointed it hurts me to see it, but just as quickly as she shows it, she covers her dismay with a bright smile. “But you don’t mind feeding me lunch in the street?”

“I’m making sure you eat.”

She nods lightly. “So no overnight stays,” she adds.

“It’s not a relationship, Lucia. It’s an arrangement.”

Her eyes lock onto mine as she slowly uses her knife to press another piece of chicken onto her fork. It hovers in the air as she says, “An arrangement. No relationship, so no kissing. Four weeks and a guarantee that you won’t hurt me.”

“Correct.”

“I don’t have a membership card. Will there be somewhere for me to park my car?” She puts the chicken in her mouth and chews. Her eyes drift toward my business.

I take a sip of my coffee, savoring the rich, bold flavor as I study Lucia across the table. Her brow is furrowed as she chews the bite of chicken. “I’ll have a driver pick you up each time.”

“What about Amelia?” she asks, her gaze meeting mine. “Your daughter will suspect something.”

“Just don’t leave the apartment with her and she won’t be a problem.”

Lucia nods slowly, her fingers drumming against the tabletop. “Okay, so...what exactly should I wear if I was to agree to this arrangement? I don’t have the budget to buy expensive clothes.”

I lean back in my chair, my lips curving into a small smile. “That’s simple. I’ll have a box of clothes delivered to your apartment each time I want you to come to the club.”

Her eyes open wider than ever. “You’re going to dress me?”

“Precisely.” I reach across the table, my fingers brushing against the back of her hand. “I’m going to do everything for you, Lucia. You’ll be relinquishing your power to me, remember?”

She scoffs, pulling her hand away. “I’m not into control freaks, Mr. Bridge.”

“Oh, but you are.” I chuckle, taking another sip of my coffee. “And that’s precisely why this arrangement will work so well for you.”

Lucia’s brow furrows, her lips press into a thin line. “I’m not a sub, Mr. Bridge.”

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