Defending Bridget - P.J. Fiala Page 0,8

coupled. When he told her to climb up on him and ride him, she rode. But, she wanted her orgasm to come, too and one time he'd cum before her and she made him keep going till she was done. Just that, right there, set in his bones. He'd never before thought a demanding sexual woman was what he'd want, but the few opportunities he'd had since her, he'd refused. Irish, in one night, had become the measuring stick by which he would compare all other women if there’d been any.

The next morning, he had to leave early, he was on a mission and was expected for a drop-off meeting at 5:00 a.m. He'd told her that night he'd slip out while she was sleeping, but he'd be back for breakfast with her by 8:00. He got back to the hotel and she was gone. He'd wanted to get her name. Her last name so when his mission was complete he could look her up. But, there wasn't a trace of her when he returned to the hotel room. He asked the hotel staff what her name was, and, of course, they wouldn't give that information out.

Finishing his mission and arriving back at the compound he brooded for a while, then told himself it was just another miserable experience with a woman.

As Bridget hugged Sophie and said goodbye to the other women, he followed her through the bar area of the venue. There was a smattering of people sitting at the bar and soft music played in the opulent room. Leather high-back stools and plush carpeting kept the sound muted so that the soft talking of the bar patrons didn't waft about the room.

Bridget walked through the room and stopped at the doorway to speak to the doorman. He bowed from the waist and walked away. Bridget tapped on her phone a couple of times then tucked it into the small shoulder bag she carried. She turned and saw him watching her. Their eyes locked for a long moment and he started walking toward her. Her slender body looked amazing encased in the soft gray trousers and the pretty soft printed blouse. If a person didn't know better, you'd think she was a refined woman who lived in places like this one. Her hair gleamed under the soft overhead lights and the swell of her breasts as she breathed highlighted her sexy body. She was an hourglass defined. Her silhouette was perfectly showcased by the lights from the foyer as she stood staring at him.

Before he could get to her, the doorman arrived and helped her put her jacket on. He felt irritated that that man was doing what he wanted to do. Be near her. Let his fingers brush over her shoulders lightly.

He quickened his pace and reached her before she darted out the door. He nodded at the doorman then tilted his head, silently asking him to leave them. Grateful he caught the hint, Axel faced Bridget, his breathing seemed to come in spurts rather than normal, his eyes drank hers in.

"Are you sure you can't have an early dinner?"

"I'm sure."

"I didn't get your name."

"Of course, you did. You've already called me by that name."

"I didn't get your full name, Irish. I also didn't know you and Sophie were friends. As I'm thinking back on the information you did give me, you were in town for a girls' weekend with some of your former military sisters. I didn't know her then, but was Sophie one of those sisters?"

He watched the thrumming at her throat as her heartbeat quickened. The pulsing in her slender neck seemed like the only movement she made.

"Yes, Sophie, Kate, and three others. We've all remained close over the years. Well, except Kate. She was murdered."

"I know we were involved in finding her murderer. You being with Sophie, it's a small world then isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

A male voice called out. "Axel, are you harassing Bridget?"

He turned his head to see Dodge and Jax walking toward them. Jax, thankfully, had a smile on her face.

"I'm not harassing her."

Bridget looked at Dodge, her brows furrowed and asked, "Why do you call him Axel?"

Looking at him she said, "Is that a nickname or something. You told me your name was Robert Beckman."

Dodge and Jax both burst out laughing and the look on Bridget's face almost made him combust into flames right there. If she could have killed him with her eyes, he'd be toast.

Her phone chimed and