Conquering Conner (The Gilroy Clan Book 4)

by Megyn Ward

  Expecting to find her going toe-to-toe with some asshole, I stop short, my brain trying to make sense of what I’m really seeing. Tess, more naked than I’ve seen her in my adult life, cozied up to the college bro I was sure I was going to have to pry her off of before someone called the cops.

  Not fighting.

  Flirting.

  Shooting Declan a sharp look, I’m about to ask him what his fucking problem is but he’s so focused on Tess, I could have a bullhorn snuggled up to his ear and he still wouldn’t hear me.

  That’s what the problem is.

  Sighing, I weave my way around the pool table to my booth. “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec,” I say to her, forcing myself to focus on her face and not the fact that’s her tits are hanging out and she’s practically sitting in this guy’s lap.

  She looks away from the guy she’s talking to and aims her grin at me for a moment. It fades when it slips past me and lands on Declan, standing a few feet behind me.

  “Are you for fucking real?” She’s not talking to me, but I answer her anyway because an argument between her and Declan is not something I want to referee.

  “Yes, I am.” I reach for her arm and hold it, making sure my grip is loose. “Now, Tess.”

  “Look, dude—” Half-drunk College Boy holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know she was taken.”

  “Taken?” Tess wheels around and glared at him. “I’m a person, dickbag—not a parking space.”

  “I—that’s not—I mean, yeah, but—” Now College Boy widens his gaze, bouncing it back and forth between Tess and Declan like he can’t decide who he wants to piss off less.

  “Stop talking before you get yourself hurt.” Tess rolls her eyes and starts to scoot across the bench to stand.

  The guy opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can say something he’ll regret.

  “Nope.” I tell him, careful to keep my tone as casual as possible. “Shut your mouth, drink your beer and you might live to see tomorrow.”

  Like Tess, the guy looks past me, his gaze landing on Declan. Whatever he sees clamps his mouth shut.

  “Good boy.” Looking down at Tess I sigh. “Please?”

  “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Again, she’s not talking to me. She’s talking to Declan. “Why do you even care? You left me. You didn’t want me anymore, remember? You got what you—”

  I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder and she immediately starts yelling at me. Turning, I jab a finger at my brother. “Leave him alone and get back to work.” Turning again, I carry Tess away from the booth, weaving through the crowd toward the office. As soon as I have the door open, I drop her onto her feet and shut it behind us both.

  “What are you doing?” I look at her shaking my head when her jaw tightens. “Seriously, Tess—what the fuck are you doing?”

  She throws her arms up and shouts. “I’m trying to have a good time, but Mother Superior out there can’t mind his own goddamned business.”

  I scrub a rough hand through my hair. I don’t have an answer for that one. “Since when does a good time mean looking like this and—” I gesture toward what I’m seeing. “I mean, Jesus—what are you even supposed to be?”

  She looks down at herself and shrugs. “A mechanic.”

  She’s wearing a pair of her work coveralls, peeled down, the arms tied around her waist. Instead of a T-shirt or tank top like she usually wears, she’s wearing one of Henley’s fancy lace bras, her breasts on full display. Aside from strategically-smeared axle grease and tattoos, she’s not wearing much else.

  “A mechanic in what? A porno?”

  She glowers at me. “Can I go now?”

  Reaching up, I snag the hem of my shirt and drag it over my head. “Put this on,” I say, tossing it at her.

  She doesn’t even try to catch it. Lets it falls to the floor at her feet. “You’re shitting me, right?” She kicks the shirt at me. “I’m practically wearing a snowsuit compared to most of the chicks out there.”

  “One—we both know you’re only doing this to get a rise out of him. Two—you’re not most of the chicks out there so, please—” I bend down and pick up the shirt to hold it out to her. “—just put the shirt on, because I don’t want to have to dig a hole for the poor son of a bitch who makes the mistake of thinking you are.”

  She stares at me for a few seconds, her jaw set at a mutinous angle. “Fine.” She finally reaches for the shirt I’m offering her. “Even though this is complete bullshit…” Tess pulls the shirt on, letting it drop over her head. “It’s been eight years. When do we get to be happy?” She tugs at the hem and it falls past her knees. She looks up at me, her chin trembling, hazel eyes gone bright with tears. “When do we get to stop watching them be happy without us, without it feeling like someone’s got our guts in a meat grinder?”

  Happy? Declan’s not happy. He’s fucking miserable. He’s miserable and stubborn and stupid. He’ll marry Jessica because he thinks that by marrying her, he’s serving penance for the things he did. The pain he caused. He’ll marry her because it’s the one thing Tess would never forgive him for. The one thing he thinks will finally set her free.

  “I don’t know, Tessie…” I shake my head. “Maybe when it stops hurting when we try. Maybe when we can do it without hurting someone else.”

  Forty-three

  Henley

  I can’t believe I let Tess talk me into this. I should be at home right now, eating my weight in Halloween candy and rationalizing my poor life choices. Instead I’m fighting my way through a very loud, very crowded bar, trying to find my way to the front of it.

  When I left her, Tess was locked on to some poor, unsuspecting guy and Declan was pacing and snarling like a lion, looking like he was seconds away from killing anything and everything he could get his hands on and Tess was gleefully pushing every one of his buttons.

  I need help.

  Finally pushing my way to the bar, I hope to see Patrick or Conner. Instead, I see the last person I ever expected to see.

  “Logan?” I shout over the din of music and people yelling out drink orders. “Logan Bright?”

  His head pops up from the row of cocktails he’s building, finding my face in the crowd. As soon as he sees me, recognition dawns, with confusion following close behind. “Henley?” He reaches for the mixer gun and shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

  I could ask him the same thing. Logan had just graduated from Trinity when I moved to New York, but he was known as the guy who could find things. Anything you wanted. I always liked him. He wasn’t like the rest of the pretty, privileged people in our social circle. He was real, despite the fact that his brother is one of the richest men on the planet. He disappeared a few years ago without so much as a see you later. The fact that I’ve run into him tending bar in Boston shouldn’t surprise me half as much as it does.

  “I—never mind.” I aim a look over my shoulder in the direction of the table I left Tess at. I can’t see it through the solid wall of drunk, sweaty people surrounding me but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s happening. “Is Conner around?” When he shakes his head, I start to panic. “Patrick?”

  Logan hands over the drink and moves to the taps. “Patrick is around the corner, running shots and cocktails. Con took off about ten minutes ago. Just saw him going that way.” He gives his head a quick jog to the left, toward the bathrooms. “Had some chick thrown over his shoulder. What are you supposed to be? School teacher?”

  Panic gives way to full-blown nausea.

  What did you think was going to happen? You told him you didn’t want him anymore. Did you honestly think someone like Conner Gilroy would simply wait for you to… what? Change your mind again?

  I look down at the get-up Tess pried me into. A tight, fitted blouse, unbuttoned to show off the black lace bra underneath and tucked into the shortest skirt I own. A loose bun secured with a pencil, glasses hanging around my neck from a granny-chain and heels complete
the outfit. “I’m a librarian.”

  Logan laughs. “That makes—”

  I don’t even realize I’m moving until I hear Logan call out to me. “Alright, good to see you too.”

  I lift my arm and give him an absentminded wave. The simmering catastrophe that is Tess and Declan completely forgotten, I push my way through the crowd with considerably more force than I used before.

  Where are you going? And what do you think you’re going to do when you get there? You asked for this. You told him you wanted to be friends and like always, Conner gave you what you asked for.

  Giving a final shove, the crowd spits me out in the hallway and I stand there for a second. There’s a line for the ladies.

  It’s occupied.

  Of course, it is.

  Then the door opens, and she tumbled out.

  Kaitlyn.

  She sees me. Recognizes me. She should, Conner’s introduced us twice now.

  Ladies don’t make a scene.

  Even as I think it, I can feel my hands tighten into fists. She opens her mouth to say something, but Conner beats her to it.

  “Henley?”

  I look away from her and see him standing several feet away, in the office doorway, shirtless. Jeans slung low around his hips. Tattoos on display.

  My tattoos.

  Every woman jammed into this hallway sees him. You’d have to be blind not to. They’re staring at him. They’re staring at us.

  How many of them do you think he’s fucked?

  So many that his last name is a euphemism for anonymous bathroom sex.

  “Henley?” He says my name again, pushing himself out of the doorway, starting toward me.

  Before he takes more than two steps I spin on my heels and start walking. Shoving myself back into the crush of bodies, I concentrate on putting as much distance between us as possible.

  “Henley.” He’s shouting at me now, right behind me. “Goddamn it—” He snags my elbow and hauls me back, turning me to face him. “What’s wrong?” He pulls me close, bending his head to get a closer look at me. He looks concerned. Confused. “Are you—” He must see it on my face—what I thought. How it made me feel. What I want—because he gets that look again. The same look he got that night in his shower. The look that makes me feel like I spit on him, but before I can even begin to feel bad about it, it’s gone. Replaced with a look I’ve never seen before. One that scares the shit out of me.

  “Alright then.” The hand on my elbow tightens like a vise, squeezing so hard it almost hurts. “Let’s get on with it,” he says, right before he turns and starts to move.

  He’s heading for the bathroom and dragging me behind him.

  Forty-four

  Conner

  I’m a rational human being.

  I think things through. I weigh the pros and cons. Consider the consequence. Apply logic. Even when it looks like I’m an out-of-control hothead, the truth of the matter is, I map my way through every possible contingency in the time it takes me to blink and I make a choice. I choose my behavior and I either accept the fallout or manipulate the situation to avoid it.

  The point is—I know what I’m doing.

  Usually.

  I say usually because right now, I don’t have a goddamned clue.

  Right now, rational me is bound and gagged and tossed into a deep, dark hole.

  Right now, I’m half naked, dragging Henley through the bar, with only a vague idea of where I’m going or what’s going to happen when we get there.

  Liar, liar. You know exactly where you’re going and you sure as fuck know what’s going to happen when you get there.

  “Conner.”

  I can hear the fast click of her heels behind me, practically running in an effort to keep up with me.

  “Conner, please just…” She digs her heels in and tries to stop our forward progress, but it does little good. “I can’t. Tess and Dec—”

  “It’s fine.” I tell her, slowing down just enough to prevent my stride and grip from pulling her elbow out of joint. “I took care of it.”

  I always take care of it.

  “What? How did you even know what…” Whatever she was going to say fades away when she figures out where I’m taking her. I half wish she’s start fighting me for real. Screaming and yelling. Making a bigger scene than we already are.

  She doesn’t. As soon as she realizes what’s happening, her arm relaxes in my grip. She lets me guide her through the crowd and into the hallway. Ignoring the line of women waiting to use the bathroom, I push through the door and drag her through it along with me.

  There’s a group of women, clustered around the large mirror, fixing their make-up and fluffing their hair. Laughing and joking about someone named Tim. One of them catches my reflection in the mirror and straightens, silently signaling to her friends. They all turn and see me standing there, my hand around Henley’s elbow. In a matter of seconds, they’re scampering out, shooting us knowing looks as they pass us on their way out the door.

  Of the six of them, I’ve fucked four, and I’m sure the other two have heard all about me.

  As soon as they're gone I pull her deeper into the bathroom, maneuvering her until she’s standing in front of me, facing the mirror above the long row of sinks I have her pinned against. “You need to say it.” I watch as my reflection grips the front of her open shirt to yank it free from the waistband of her skirt before jerking it down her arms. “I need to hear you say it.”

  “Say what?” She whispers it, her voice so soft and thin I can barely hear her.

  Reaching up, I cup my hands around her breasts. “Now is not the time to play games with me, Henley.” I squeeze, brushing my thumbs over her lace-covered nipples. “Say it,” I growl at her and I wonder if she can hear it. That fucked-up animal inside me.

  The thing that wants to have her.

  Own her.

  Keep her.

  “Yes.” She plants her hands on the sink in front of her and pushes back, grinding her ass against the hard length of my cock. “Yes, please.”

  “Christ.” I hook a finger around the delicate scrap of lace holding the cups of her bra together and give it a sharp jerk. It comes apart in my hand and her breasts tumble free. “Touch yourself.” I run my tongue up the side of her neck. Scrape my teeth across the knot at the top of her spine. “Pinch your nipples for me.”

  Her hand come up, fondling one of her breasts while mine find the zipper on her skirt and resisting the urge to yank and tear, I pull it down as gently as I can. Pushing the waistband past her hips, I listen to it slide down her legs while she strokes my throbbing cock with her ass through my jeans.

  I turn her, close my lips over her breast and suck, pulling her nipple into my mouth. As soon as my mouth makes contact, she moans. Pushes the hard, swollen bud against my tongue.

  “Conner, please…” She moans, her hand fisting in my hair while the other one reaches for the waistband of my jeans. Her fingers wrap around me and I groan, my already hard cock jerking almost painfully in her grip. It’s suddenly too much. The taste of her skin. Her hand on my cock. Knowing what she thinks of me. What she expected to see when she barreled into that hallway tonight.

  The fact that despite all of that, she still wants me to fuck her.

  That’s what I was going to do. Why I brought her in here. I was going to bend her over the sink and fuck her. Treat her like I’ve treated every other woman I’ve brought in here.

  Like she doesn’t matter.

  But I can’t.

  I can’t fucking do it.

  Reaching down, I push her hand away from my cock. When she makes a small frustrated sound in the back of her throat and reaches for me again, I block her, knocking her hand away while nailing her with a hard look. “Don’t.”

  Her dark eyes flare at me, confused by my reaction. “But I—”

  “You said yes.” Gripping her thighs, I open them wider. Stepping into the warm space between them, I press myself against h
er, letting her feel what I won’t let her touch. “If you’ve changed your mind, you better tell me now.”

  Her chin tips up, so she can look at me. So I can watch the tip of her tongue skim the line of her upper lip while she shakes her head at me. “I already told you.” The words come out on a breathless rush, the hot desperation of them pushing against my chest. “I won’t change my mind.”

  Dipping my head, I cup my free hand under the soft globe of her breast and lift, circling her nipple with the tip of my tongue. Nipping it with my teeth until she’s writhing.

  I reach down, fitting my hand around the back of her knee and lift. Opening her wider. Grinding the hard length of my cock against her clit. Pumping and stroking her through her panties until she’s panting and straining against me. Until her hands come up to fit around my ass, trying to pull me closer. “When you saw Kaitlyn come out of this bathroom, you expected me to be right behind her.” I stop moving, lifting my head to look at her. “You thought I was fucking her. And you wanted it to be you.”

  Her breath catches in her throat and she opens her mouth but nothing comes out, her head shaking, fast and tight. Despite her denial, I can see it on her face. Finding me with another woman is exactly what she expected.

  “I warned you…” Releasing her breast, I skim my hand down the length of her until I feel the swell of her hip. Following the curve of her thigh to the place where I’m pressed against her. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, Henley. Not to me.”

  “I didn’t...” She shakes her head. “I don’t—”

  “You said just friends.” I put just enough space between us to give myself room to push the crotch of her panties to the side. “Just. Friends.” I can’t keep it out of my voice. The confusion. The hurt.