Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Fuck me, Connell,” she whispered in my ear, lifting her knees so I settled at her entrance.

  Speechless. She’d rendered me speechless.

  I gripped her hip with one hand and buried the other in her curls. Then I pushed inside her with slow-rolling thrusts, keeping my eyes on hers the entire time.

  Fuck me, she was so hot. So tight. I locked my jaw and concentrated on her as I thrust in fully. “Holy shit,” I groaned against her lips. “Ye feel like a silk vise around me.”

  “How can you speak?” she groaned and swirled her hips.

  “Fuck. Lass. Annabelle. Give me a second here.” This would be over in exactly two seconds if she did that again.

  “I can’t help it,” she said with a breathy moan. “You feel so good inside me.”

  I withdrew and slid back inside. How was it even better?

  “Tell me if I’m too rough,” I ordered as I rolled into her again and again.

  “I can take it. I can take you.” She planted her feet and arched up for each thrust. “So don’t hold back. Take me however you need.”

  Her teeth nipped at my earlobe, and my control snapped.

  Harder. Deeper. I took her with abandon, losing myself in the feel of her, the taste of her, the sounds she made each time I bottomed out inside her. When she ordered me to move faster, I grinned and stayed exactly at the same rhythm as I stroked her higher and further into bliss.

  I was going to live here, right between her thighs. Nothing outside this room—this bed—mattered. Just her. Just this. Just us.

  Her cries grew louder, and I felt that tension take over, locking her thighs as her orgasm started. “That’s it,” I praised as I abandoned her hip to slide my thumb between our bodies. I strummed her swollen clit as I fucked her with long, hard, deep strokes, pushing myself past the limits I thought I had.

  But that pleasure spiraling down my spine to gather in my balls wasn’t waiting any longer, and her loud cries were only spurring me on. “Damn. Annabelle. You feel so fucking good, love. You’re killing me. Come with me, love.”

  “Connell,” she whispered over and over. When her pitch changed, I pressed on her clit, and she came around me, squeezing me so tight that I stopped fighting my orgasm and gave my body over to it.

  My thrusts became as erratic as my breathing, and then it hit. Blinding, star-seeing pleasure burst through me as I slammed as deep as I could go in her welcoming body and emptied myself into her.

  I didn’t know if had been minutes or hours when I found the strength to raise my head from her neck and kiss her lips. “Are you okay?” I asked, lifting my weight on my elbows to keep from crushing her.

  “Uh. huh. Better than okay.” She smiled sleepily up at me and traced my face with her fingers. “You’re beautiful and very, very good at that.”

  I grinned and kissed her again. I’d been right the first time I’d kissed her. She’d ruined me for anyone else. She was it. The epitome. The standard. Everything. “Give me a minute, and then I’ll show ye how good I am at it again.”

  Her brown eyes sparkled as she licked her lips. “Good, because I wasn’t lying. I really do have this shower fantasy.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Whatever fantasy she had, I’d fulfill it. I’d be it.

  She might not know it yet, but she was mine, and I’d do whatever was necessary to keep her.

  8

  Annabelle

  “Dinner at Luigi’s, ice cream at your favorite spot, and now this?” Connell asked as he drove through the entrance to Sweet Water’s drive-in-theater. “You must really want to spoil me.”

  I smiled at him. “Just a little,” I said. “And I wanted you to see why Sweet Water means so much to me.”

  Connell navigated the gravel pathways and rows of cars until he found a nice little secluded spot in the back corner near the tree line that bordered the outdoor theater. The clear night sky above twinkled with little pinpricks of light as we hopped out of the truck he’d borrowed for the occasion, rounding it to the bed.

  Connell grabbed the thick bundle of blankets I’d packed, and I tucked my picnic basket under my arm as he lined the bed of the truck with quilts and pillows.

  “All set,” he said, towering above me as he stood in the truck bed. He reached a hand down for me, and I passed him the basket. He chuckled but took it and settled it in the back corner before coming back for me. “Come here,” he said, hand outstretched.

  I slipped my fingers in his, hiking my foot on the tailgate, but Connell easily hefted me into the truck, not a sign of struggle on his face.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he said as we leaned against the pillows. The old theater screen took up the entirety of our viewpoint, an ancient cartoon concession preview dancing across it, illuminating the rows and rows of cars ahead of us. Some people had brought fold-out chairs and sat in front of their cars while others elected for the beds of trucks like Connell and myself. Laughter echoed from the aisle leading to the concession stand at the back of the lot, and I found myself smiling.

  “Everyone should experience a drive-in at least once,” I said, flipping open the basket and fishing out two small plastic cups. I raised one to him, and he plucked it out of my hand. I retrieved the flask I’d packed, and poured him a knuckles length of scotch, then did the same in my glass. “Cheers,” I said, tapping the rim of his cup with mine before we both took a sip.

  His eyebrows raised. “This is my favorite,” he said, and heat blazed straight down the center of me at the sight of his tongue swiping the lone drop of scotch off his bottom lip.

  “Echo told me,” I said. “I wanted to make tonight special for you. As a thank you—”

  “How many times do I have to tell, ye? You don’t need to thank me.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I do. You’ve done so much for Sweet Water.” I smirked, tucking my cup into the opened basket before shifting fully to face him. “I guess you running into that statue could be the best thing that ever happened to our town.” I nudged him. “Lucky for me.”

  He laughed softly, nuzzling the soft part of my neck before pulling back to look me in the eye. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he said.

  “What?” I tilted my head.

  “When you thanked me for wrecking your beloved statue,” he said. “You were so angry that day in court.”

  A flush bloomed under my cheeks. “Well, you know how important this community is to me.”

  “Aye.”

  “And…and…I may have been rash. I thought you were reckless. I thought you didn’t care about anything but attention and a laugh.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Och.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I was wrong.”

  He shrugged. “Not entirely,” he said. “I do love making people laugh.”

  I swallowed hard, my heart aching in my chest remembering the story of how he’d started making his mother laugh after his father had left them in the cold.

  “I already told you about my mother, about what my dad leaving did to her.” He raked his hand through his hair. “And in school, with the jokes, I realized one crucial thing.”

  “What?” I asked, my voice cracking from the truth he laid bare.

  He turned to me, his blue eyes open, vulnerable. “If you’re the one making people laugh, you’re the one keeping people on their toes from pranks and stunts…they don’t look deeper. Don’t push for your backstory, and back then, my dad leaving my mother and myself, breaking her the way he did; it was the last thing I wanted to share with people.”

  “And now?”

  “I still don’t advertise my upbringing,” he said.

  “But you shared with me.”

  “You asked,” he said. “And I’ll never lie to you, Annabelle. Ever.”

  My head spun at the primal promise in those words, and I didn’t have the proper ones to respond. To tell him how much that meant to me. So, instead, I used my lips in another way.

  I cr
ushed them against his, so hard and fast he dropped his empty cup as he caught me against him. His hands folded around my back as I rolled half on top of him, my mouth exploring his in a fevered hunger. He tasted like scotch and heat and pure Connell, his scent filling my lungs and making my head spin.

  I tangled my fingers in his hair, flicking my tongue against the roof of his mouth. His hand slid lower until he’d found the back of my knee and hitched my leg over his hip, shifting us until we were on our sides, never once breaking the kiss that set my entire being on fire.

  “Annabelle,” he sighed between my lips, and I trembled from the word, from the pressure of his incredibly hard cock I could feel through his jeans as I shamelessly rocked against it. I knew exactly what he felt like inside me, and I was certain no amount of time or distance could ever make me stop wanting him.

  Connell smirked against my lips, clearly pleased with my greediness. He cradled my head with one hand, his other smoothing over my breasts and lower until he’d reached the hem of my skirt. He broke our kiss long enough to gauge my reaction as he slowly, agonizingly slipped his fingers between my thighs.

  I nodded, arching slightly against his touch, burning with the need to feel him on me.

  He teased me over my lace panties, the rough fabric contrasting deliciously with his gentle caresses.

  “Mmm,” he moaned against my lips. “You’re drenched, love,” he said before sucking my tongue into his mouth, causing my breath to catch as chills raced across my skin.

  I wiggled until my hand found his hard length, and watched his eyes flare as I popped the button on his jeans and slipped in. He was hot and strong and huge in my hand as I explored him from his head and down, pumping in time to his torturous teases between my thighs.

  “Connell,” I gasped, my focus splintering as he shoved the lace aside and met my wetness with his fingers.

  “Fuck,” he said, his lips exploring my neck. “You’re brilliant.” He slid his fingers right down the center of me, and everything in my body, my being, honed in on that sensation. On the need coursing through my veins. On the fire sizzling just under my skin.

  I pumped him in my hand, our eyes locking as he pulled back enough to see my face. He didn’t blink, barely breathed as he slid one finger inside, then another, until all I could feel or think was him.

  “You’re brilliant,” he said again, moving inside me. “Gorgeous,” he said, emphasizing his words by going deeper, only to pull his fingers out and slid them in again. I coiled and clenched as I rode his hand, as I lost all sense of time and setting and logic. As I became nothing but pure sensation, a puppet moving to the will of his hands, and sweet mercy the man knew how to pluck my strings.

  “There she is,” he said, grinning that purely male confident smile as he watched me on the brink of explosion. “All you need is a little…push.” He pressed his thumb down on that small, aching bundle of nerves and covered my mouth with his own at the same time, swallowing my cry of release. Drinking it in, savoring it as I shattered completely for him.

  Slowly, gently, he worked me through the throes of the orgasm, planting me with soft kisses on my lips, my neck, my collarbone, as I could do nothing but lay limp in his arms, trembling from the intensity of it.

  My head spun with the buzz from his touch, from the power he held over my body, my heart, and I was certain nothing could ever—

  Laughter.

  Loud and crystal clear sounded from our right, and I jolted in his embrace.

  Drive-in theater.

  I’d completely forgotten where we were.

  Who I was meant to be.

  I quickly scanned the area, sighing slightly when I realized the group of theater-goers were laughing at their own conversation as they returned to their cars, not noticing us at all.

  “Omigod,” I said, scooching up to a sitting position, covering my face with my hands. “I can’t believe I just…we just…”

  Connell laughed softly, raising up to sit next to me. “It’s all right, love,” he said, gently tugging my hands away from my face.

  The movie was well into its plot on the screen, the parking lot quiet save for the occasional giggle or the crickets chirping from the trees next to us.

  “No, you don’t get it,” I said, flustered. “I’ve never done that. Not in public. Connell, if someone would’ve caught us—”

  “I wouldn’t have let that happen,” he said.

  “How would you have known?”

  “I was fully aware of what was going on around us. If I’d heard someone, I would’ve stopped us.”

  A cold bucket of ice-water crashed over my head.

  “You were aware…” my voice cracked.

  Of course, he was. Why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t as consumed by me as I was by him.

  Damn it.

  I was getting in too deep. Losing myself to a man who couldn’t possibly feel the same.

  “Right.” I cleared my throat and straightened my skirts, my chest fracturing slightly as I did.

  “What the hell just happened?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nah,” he said, turning me so that his face filled my vision. “Don’t do that. Talk to me.”

  I sighed.

  Fine.

  I was a grown woman, after all, I could at least be honest. “It’s nothing, honestly, Connell. It makes perfect sense.”

  His eyes flared. “What does?”

  “That you wouldn’t be as…lost in the moment as I was.”

  That muscle in his jaw ticked, and he cocked an eyebrow at me. Gently, he tugged my hand in his until he placed it against his still, very hard cock. “Does that feel like I’m not as into it as you, Annabelle?”

  I gasped, instantly liquid at the firm pressure against my hand, and cursed myself for wanting him so badly. For wanting him to pack us up and take us home where I could ravish him properly.

  I tugged my hand back before I could suggest such a thing. “I’m sorry about that,” I said, a pang of guilt hitting me. “I didn’t mean to get you worked up only to not fin—”

  “I don’t give a shite about that,” he said. “I wanted to please you. Don’t you get that by now?”

  I swallowed hard. “No,” I admitted. “I don’t get it, Connell. I so don’t get it.” I shook my head, smoothing my fingers through my wild hair. “We can laugh together and be friends and even have fun between the sheets, but we both know I’m not what you really want.”

  His lips parted, his blue eyes churning with liquid fire. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

  I gaped at him. “Excuse me?” I whisper-hissed to keep from snapping.

  “You are,” he said. “If you think that you’re not exactly what I want.”

  “Oh, come on, Connell,” I said, arching a brow at him. “We both know I’m nothing more than a convenient fling until the season really starts, and all the perfect bunnies arrive.” I smacked my hand on my knee. “Hell, you just admitted you were completely aware of our surroundings while I was on another fucking planet. That’s not balanced—”

  He took an obvious deep breath, laying his hand over mine. “Annabelle, the only reason, and I’m fucking serious, the only reason I knew what was going on around us is because I made an effort to. And it’s not fucking easy, but I know you. I know how important your professional appearance is to you, and I would never put you in a situation where you’d find yourself vulnerable or open to judgement.”

  Tears welled behind my eyes.

  “If I hadn’t made that effort? I wouldn’t have stopped at one orgasm. I would’ve peeled those frilly little panties down your legs, and I would’ve slid into you right here until you came so many times I’d have to carry you home. Do you understand me?”

  My heart raced, a battle of lust and want and hope swirling until my head spun.

  “No one can compare to you,” he continued. “And believe you and me, you are the farthest thing from convenient.” He laughed a dark
laugh. “You’re stubborn, argumentative, and a right pain in the arse half the time.”

  I bit back a grin.

  “And I love it. Every. Single. Second. Of. It.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath as his hand smoothed over my face to cup my cheek.

  “I don’t care about bunnies.” His other hand disappeared behind his back until he’d come back with his phone. He held the cell out at an arm’s length until our faces filled the frame. He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead and snapped the picture. “I’ll post this right now, showing everyone who exactly I’m with and who I want.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper.

  He sighed. “You don’t want people to know we’re together.”

  “Are we?”

  He put his phone away. “There is no one else, Annabelle. There hasn’t been long since before I hit your beloved statue. And there won’t be. Not as long as you’ll have me.”

  My lips parted, two tears rolling down my cheeks. “I’m not what you need—”

  “Stop,” he said, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “As long as you’ll have me,” he said again. “You understand?”

  I didn’t.

  Not really.

  I couldn’t deny the white-hot chemistry between us. Couldn’t deny how we laughed and had fun together. Couldn’t deny his tenacity and dedication when it came to learning who I was inside. Couldn’t deny how he was the first person I wanted to see in the morning and the last person I wanted to talk to at night. That he’d become my first call when anything of interest happened.

  And yet…I wasn’t his usual type. I had curves, lots of them, and I sure as hell wasn’t Instagram-ready like Blaire. If the public saw us together…they’d ridicule him. And that’s the last thing I wanted.

  But I wanted him more.

  And for now, that was enough.

  I finally nodded, pressing my lips together in what I hoped he could tell was an apology for the outburst.

  He sighed, relief churning in his eyes as he tucked me into his side and settled us back against the pillows.