I kept up the onslaught, kept her riding that edge until her breathing came out in short, ragged pants. And once again, I pulled back.
"Jesus Christ, please, I'll do anything. I'm begging you. If you could just…”
I grinned up at her and went back to town. I had zero intention of letting up. I wanted her so desperate for me that she couldn't remember her name, so that when I finally did let her come she'd be exhausted enough to sleep. Wiped out enough to shake the worry for at least the rest of the night.
When she gripped my hair tightly and started to rock her hips up against me, I knew we were there. Or at least really close.
"Bridge. Please, if you could just… I'm desperate."
I laughed. "Are you now?" I stroked her clit. “Remember when you sent me that photo?"
She laughed. "Is this payback? You are the most evil—"
I licked over her clit again with short, fast strokes, and the words died on her lips. I could hear her trying to even out her breathing in preparation for me to stop. But just as she thought I was going to pull back, I sucked on her clit and went to town in fast, short strokes, my fingers pumping in and out of her. And just when I increased my tempo, Emma screamed my name. It was a special kind of heaven to my ears, and I chuckled as her legs started to quake and her pussy tugged at my fingers.
My beautiful wife broke apart, her legs shaking and clamping around my shoulders. I’d learned early with her to make sure I planted my shoulders between her thighs and my head. Otherwise, I was going to die. Although what a way to go.
Her hands grabbed at my hair even as she started to come down. "Come here. Make love to me."
I tsked and shook my head. "No. This is for you.”
"That'd be for me, too."
I laughed. "In the morning, if you're feeling up to it and you've had some actual sleep, we'll do something for me."
She groaned but I could feel her lethargy as I pulled her close and tight into my body, tucking her into that spot on my shoulder as she drifted off into oblivion.
I considered the things I needed to tell her. How much more worry could I afford to add to her already overflowing cup?
One thing at a time. I would tell her, but first she needed any ounce of peace I could give her.
Thirty-Six
Emma
Bridge's hand wrapped around mine, and the simple contact made me feel little fissures of electricity dance up my arm. I smiled up at him only to find that he was already smiling down at me. And his expression. God, it was like the moment we stopped fighting each other, everything became infinitely easier. And it was amazing. He'd been on the verge of telling me something last night though, and I wasn't sure what it was. He hadn't said anything thus far today.
"Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"
He shook his head. "No, nothing. I am relaxed and at peace right now."
"Are you sure? You seemed like you wanted to tell me something last night, and… I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, but you can tell me anything.”
"Today, let's just take a walk and enjoy ourselves. We've got a few more days in Barcelona. London awaits soon enough."
I searched his gaze. There was something. Did I pry it out of him, or wait? Because I was learning. Bridge always needed a little time. A little moment before he could get into it. And all those times I'd been pushing too hard too fast hadn’t worked out so well. Sometimes because it was necessary, but I understood him better now.
"Come on, the fountain is over here."
He dragged me to some out-of-the-way park to see some fountain and some lovers that were supposedly good luck in the city.
I couldn't help but smile because he was so excited. Bridge was never excited. Not like that. Not with pure joy and happiness. Not even when we talked about Darcy. When he talked about Darcy, he’d don a proud brother face. He wasn’t even thirty yet. He’d had to be an adult way too soon. I was his fun. And I was going to keep making him have some.
"Where are you taking me? Are you going to murder me?"
"Woman, trust me. If I was going to murder you, I would have done it with orgasms. I was worried last night actually. That fourth one, you didn't move for a while."
I laughed. "Ha-ha, funny."
"I think so."
We found the tucked-away garden, and sure enough, there were initials all along the stone. "Oh my God, how long do you think it's been here?"
"According to the guy we hired at the hotel to manage the villas, he said this fountain had been here for a hundred years. All these people and all these lives. Fascinating."
I nodded, my fingers chasing over the dusty etchings. "I wonder how many of them lived happily ever after or had families."
"I don't know."
As we were walking in the gardens that were reasonably well maintained, not too overgrown, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I frowned, and Bridge shook his head. "No, do not answer the call."
"You said it yourself, I have to keep up the appearances of giving a fuck, right?"
He snarled. "He's taking the piss, and he knows it. He's fully attempting to destroy us."
"Well, he's going to have a difficult time. You and I are here for the long haul."
Bridge laughed. "Yes, we are. But still."
"Seriously, I need to take this call."
He sighed and then retracted his hand.
I knew what he was doing. Separating himself from the thing we both hated. Separating himself from what we were doing. I reached into my bag and took out my phone. I was surprised when I saw who it was. "DI Strickland?"
"Yes, Emma, all right?"
"I'm well. What can I help you with?"
"Remember the favor you called in a couple weeks ago?"
"Yes, the Price case."
"Yeah, interesting development."
My belly flip-flopped. I knew I wasn't going to like this. I knew.
"I think we found the girl."
"What?" I sputtered.
"Price's kid. A girl about her age matching the description was spotted at a petrol station. One of the employees called the police. Said the little girl had told him a man had taken her and her mother and she didn't know where her mother was."
"Okay, where is she? Can we talk to her?"
"That's the thing. Is your passport up to date?"
"Yeah, why?"
"The little girl is in Barcelona."
That's when my stomach cramped. "Barcelona?"
"Yup. I guess she was driven out, dropped off about a quarter of a mile from a gas station and told to walk until she saw the lights. I don't want you getting your hopes up, but it could be her. We will, of course, notify Price, since he's the only person of interest, but it seems that maybe it might not be what I was thinking at first."
“Strickland, I'm in Barcelona right now."
“Why?"
“For work. And also, an impromptu honeymoon."
He paused for a beat. "A honeymoon? I'm a DI and I didn't know you were even engaged."
"Well, it was all sort of a whirlwind."