02-Let It Ride (18 page)

Bridge practically preened. “That’s my family.”

“It’s not that though. It’s . . .” He trailed off, glancing around the table at the happy faces of a family completely at ease with each other.

Bridge leaned in closer. “What is it?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed.

“This?”

Eric answered with a shrug. Bridge seemed to understand because he didn’t press for more. He just slid that hand a little higher up Eric’s thigh, sending a rush of blood to his groin, and kissed his cheek. “We stick together and help each other through whatever comes our way,” Bridge said. “That’s how.” The promise in his voice was so clear it made Eric’s eyes sting.

And then Eric’s heart about blasted a hole through his rib cage when an earsplitting whistle rent the air, silencing the table and bringing everyone to sharp attention. Lenora stood in the doorway that led from the dining room to the kitchen, holding a massive cake, tall candles flickering gold and yellow under her chin. And, as if they’d been counted in by a conductor, the family launched into a perfectly harmonized rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

“Make a wish!” Marty shouted.

“And blow hard,” Bill teased, eliciting a round of laughter from the table, a groan and eye roll from Bridge, and a flood of heat into Eric’s cheeks. Bridge turned to him then, his smile turning sly. He winked before inhaling pretty much all of the oxygen in the room and blew out all twenty-nine candles in one long exhalation. He sat back, looking mighty proud of himself, while everyone laughed, and Lenora set about cutting slices of dense chocolate cake onto small plates. Willa then scooped vanilla ice cream on top of each, and then Angie passed them on down the table until they all had a plate in front of them.

“What’d you wish for, little bro?” Bill asked, his grin so much like Bridge’s.

“Secret.” Bridge shot a quick glance at Eric. “But it’ll be coming true tonight.”

“I can’t believe you told them that,” Eric said when they climbed into bed later that night.

“What?”

“About your wish? ‘It’ll be coming true tonight.’” Eric mimicked Bridge’s voice, and except for the accent, Bridge couldn’t deny he’d done a pretty good job of it. “You may as well have just come right out and said we’re having sex.”

“It’s not like anyone would think otherwise.” Bridge pulled him into his arms and kissed him soundly, rolling them until he was draped over Eric’s leaner frame. “I think it’s time for my present now.”

“How do you want me, birthday boy?”

Bridge stared at him for a long moment. He’d been dreaming about this for a long time, wondering what it would be like, and then after seeing how much Eric had loved it . . . He was ready for it. “I want you to fuck me.”

Eric’s eyes darkened, desire burned in them. “God, are you su—”

“Don’t make me say it,” Bridge teased.

Eric chuckled, and the sound drifted into a moan. “I’m going to give you the best birthday gift of your entire life.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for, stud.”

“Roll onto your stomach.”

He made quick work of doing as Eric bid, and his body began to shake with excitement and anticipation of what was to come. He loved the way he’d made Eric squirm and writhe in pleasure when he’d made love to him and couldn’t wait to be on the receiving end, and— Fuck. He hadn’t fucked Eric the other night; that hadn’t been just sex. He’d made love to him.
Love
. Because . . .

I love him.

And trailing that thought came a sense of rightness unlike any he’d ever felt before, something inside him lifted, opened, and even though it was nighttime, the sky suddenly seemed lighter, the room warmer.

I am. I’m in love with Eric Palmer. Holy hell.

“Bridge?”

“Uh, yeah?” Bridge coughed and buried his head in the pillow for a second. When he turned to meet Eric’s gaze, the man looked different somehow. His features smoother, his eyes brighter, the way his mouth curved when he smiled more enticing, and the hint of a dimple in his left cheek—the one that never quite materialized, but lurked beneath the surface nonetheless—intriguing. Everything about him was . . . beautiful. And it was more than how he looked. It was the sound of his voice and that sharp accent that grew thicker when he was turned on; the way he always seemed to make sure Bridge was happy, satisfied; and the care he gave when sharing new experiences with him. The way he looked out for people and went beyond just fixing their wounds.

The way he simply made Bridge feel alive.

I love you.

“Kiss me,” Bridge whispered, stretching to meet Eric for a slow, promising caress of mouths, and then Eric smoothed a hand down Bridge’s back while shifting to nip at his shoulder. The hand dropped to the crack of his ass, while wet lips trailed along the curve of his spine. Fingers rubbed gently against his hole, and lazy kisses trickled down to meet them. Every single touch seemed infused with fire, every single kiss an electric charge, and every sensation greater and more powerful than the last. He jumped when a hot, wet tongue traced around his opening, darting just inside.

“Holy Jesus.” Bridge gasped. That was something he could get used to. “Do that again.”

Eric chuckled. “Your wish . . .” And then that strong slippery muscle slid through the crack of his ass, circling and dipping into his hole, and sent shivers cascading over his skin. It was too much and not enough, but all he knew was that he wanted more. He wanted Eric to own him completely tonight, and he couldn’t wait another second for it to start.

“Now,” he growled.

Eric chuckled. “Not even close, cowboy. I won’t chance hurting you just because you’re too damned impatient.”

“Cruel man.”

“You’ll be singing my praises before you know it.”

Bridge started to speak, but a strong finger pushed inside and froze the air in his lungs. For the first time, Eric had breached him, and the reality of what was soon to come heightened his senses into acute awareness centered completely on his ass and what was happening to it. Eric’s cock was going to be in there. Frightening. Exciting. His whole body shook with anticipation.

In and out the finger worked, sometimes joined by that talented tongue, and together they raised his pleasure to another level. Step-by-step, his need for more rose. Deeper and deeper Eric pushed, wider and wider he opened, and then pressure on something inside sent an explosion of blinding sparks blasting in every direction. “Holy . . . hell . . .”

“You like?”

Bridge panted. Laughed. “God yes. Do that again.”

Finally, after what seemed like hours, when Bridge couldn’t take another second of being on the edge Eric had him riding with fingers and tongue, he removed both and left Bridge empty, open, and the most vulnerable he’d ever felt in his life. But Eric would take care of him. He knew without a doubt that he was safe with this man he’d fallen hard for. Probably had fallen for a long time ago and had just not realized it.

He distantly registered the pop of a lid and the tearing of a condom wrapper, and then blunt pressure against his hole drew his complete and absolute attention. Eric’s cock.

Fuck.

Would it hurt? Would he love it or hate it? He had no idea what to expect, only the tease of what Eric’s fingers had felt like inside of him, but he wanted it. More than he’d ever thought possible.

Eric rocked his hips gently, slowly, incrementally pushing himself inside, and Bridge gasped at the acute spike of pain, tried to pull away.

“Easy,” Eric said, his voice low and soothing, and that rumbling accent washed over him like a caress. A hand moved in slow circles on his back, calming, assuring. “Try to breathe and think about relaxing your body.”

Bridge nodded, unable to speak right then. He didn’t see how he was going to be able to take all of Eric, but he was damn well going to try. He wanted this; he just had to do what Eric said. Slow down and relax. When he did, his muscles loosened up enough for the head of Eric’s dick to breach him, and he tensed again at the ache and burn, but below that was another sensation—something he’d never felt before, something better.

“That’s it,” Eric crooned. “Keep breathing.”

The pain began to ebb, and as it faded, he chased the burn that replaced it. It was a weird edge, a sweet mix of pleasure and agony, and then heaven when he realized Eric’s cock was inside of him. All the way. Stretching him, filling him, each gentle thrust pushing him deeper inside until Bridge was certain he’d pierce his heart. Eric stopped, letting Bridge adjust to the new sensations, and his heightened senses recorded every single thing. The way his whole channel felt deliciously full, the way the hard flesh throbbed inside him, the incredible heat of it, how Eric’s pelvis was flush against his ass and heavy balls rested against his. He felt it all, right down to the subtle tremble of Eric’s body as he struggled to hold still, waiting for Bridge to drop the flag that signaled a green light, and the breath Bridge couldn’t quite seem to catch.

Bridge hooked a hand behind him, reaching to grab a handful of Eric’s firm ass, and tugged him closer, trying to get Eric deeper, but Eric pulled back, almost all the way out, before thrusting back in. The head of his cock slid over that spot inside his body that stole his breath, blowing out his vision on every stroke.

Never in all his life could he have imagined how amazing this could feel. Yeah, he loved fucking Eric, but holy hell. He just might want to bottom all the time.

It felt so good. No, not good. Incredible, amazing, mind-blowing . . . Nope, none of those words came close, either. Having Eric inside of him, owning him, loving him was well and truly beyond description. He wanted more, always, even as he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he didn’t want to come this way, with his face in the pillow. “Wait, stop.”

Eric stopped immediately. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Worry laced his rough voice.

“No, no.” Bridge turned his head so Eric could read the truth in his eyes. “This is so fucking beyond-words awesome, but I want to face you when I come.”

“Jesus, Bridge.” Eric leaned down for a kiss. “You’re fucking incredible.” Eric carefully pulled out and rolled Bridge to his back, lifting his legs and draping them over Eric’s sturdy shoulders, and then he lined up and plunged back inside.

“God, yes!” Bridge’s eyes rolled into the back of his head; he wondered how the hell sex with Eric kept getting better, how every single time could possibly be better than the last. But it was. Every. Single. Time.

The pace quickened, Eric’s thrusts short and fast, and then he slowed down, pushing all the way in and slowly pulling all the way out. Fast or slow, short or deep, it was sweet heaven, and soon Bridge was skirting the point of no return. He took his cock in hand and started to stroke hard and fast, matching Eric’s rhythm.

“Soon, soon, soon,” he panted. Eric’s hand covered his, and together they brought him over the edge.

His release spilled onto his stomach in scalding jets, and seconds later, Eric growled above him, grinding out his release and pushing so deep inside Bridge that he was certain they’d fused together and become one. They stayed that way, frozen in the aftermath of ecstasy, shuddering in its wake.

“Take a breath,” Eric said, his voice a low rasp. Bridge did, wincing as Eric carefully pulled out. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Eric tossed the condom in the trash bin and then leaned down and kissed Bridge, short and sweet because they hadn’t yet recovered enough breath for more. Eric settled in beside him, and Bridge reached out, found Eric’s hand, and twined their fingers together.

“From now on, every day is my birthday.”

Eric laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t mind having a birthday once in a while too.”

Bridge turned to look at Eric, loving the spent, sated expression, the contented glow in his eyes. Just fucking loving him. He ran a finger along the line of Eric’s jaw and then leaned in and kissed him, slow and thorough and infused with all the love he felt inside. When he pulled back, a funny expression crossed Eric’s handsome features, too fleeting for Bridge to identify.

“Happy birthday, cowboy,” Eric said quietly.

“Best birthday gift ever. By far.” Bridge closed his eyes, a smile still holding his cheeks up as he drifted off into peaceful slumber.