‘Bridget. Look at me.’ He reached out a finger and gently raised her chin so that their eyes met. His eyes, usually so light and laughing, were smoky and hot. They smouldered like the very ash they resembled.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart. Stop fighting it.’
Hot tears flooded her eyes and she blinked rapidly to clear them. There was no way she was going to cry in public and embarrass herself further.
‘There is nothing OK about putting myself on display like a hussy.’
For the briefest moment, anger flashed across his face, but it was quickly stifled and his voice was gentle when he said, ‘Being aroused is natural when you’re with someone you’re attracted to. When you’re attracted to someone, it’s also natural to act on it. Because of what happened to you, your signals are crossed now. That act has made you distrust yourself.’
‘That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one sitting here hot and bothered and on display for everyone to know it.’
‘Really.’ He drawled the word as he reached for her hand. Sliding closer to her, he placed her palm in his lap and she felt the steel of his erection under his slacks.
She instinctively squeezed and he groaned, but when she went to snatch her hand away, he held onto her, pressing her palm down around his cock. Leaning into her, he whispered, ‘Stroke me.’
‘Here!’ She hissed the word, looking around to ensure no one was watching them.
He nodded again, whispering, ‘No one can see us. Touch me, Bridget. Feel how much I want you right now.’
She hesitated, but only for a split second. She liked that he wanted her. Liked that she wasn’t alone in her neediness. She was coiled tight and some part of her needed to connect with him and know she wasn’t by herself in this.
She stroked him through his pants, enjoying the solid feel of him under her palm. The way he responded was dizzying; his body jumping under the cloth of his pants. His soft groans only spurred her on and she moved even closer, adding friction and pressure to her ministrations.
‘That feels amazing, Bridg,’ he groaned into her neck. ‘I want you to do this again when there’s no fabric between us. I want to see your hand, so tiny, wrapped around my cock and watch you jack me off.’
He groaned again as she squeezed, fascinated at the sounds he made, the images he projected into her mind, and the evidence of his desire for her right in front of her eyes. His hips were moving now and his breathing was harsh as she continued to stroke and rub his cock. His smoky eyes held hers and she watched the play of his features as they hardened in desire and need.
‘It’s your call, sweetheart. I’m at your mercy. Do you want me to come for you?’
She marvelled at his willingness to give her this power. They were in public, for God’s sake. She was damn tempted to make him come. To watch him fall apart under her hands the way he made her fall apart and know she’d done it to him.
Instead, she leaned over and, for the first time since they’d met, she initiated a kiss. She brushed her lips over his, taking in the textures and the sweet, minty taste of his lips before delicately tracing them with her tongue. He opened to her readily and their tongues began a lazy dance.
She brought her hands up to his chest, resting her palms on him and marvelling at the fierceness and tempo of his heartbeat. Her own was going a mile a minute. Connor didn’t repeat his mistake of the picnic. His hands stayed away from her neck, though he turned to face her as he deepened the kiss. One hand rested on her hip and lightly stroked her in tandem to the rhythmic invasion of his tongue in her mouth.
Before she could protest again about being in public – not that she wanted to protest – Connor brushed his hand up along her midriff and cupped her breast, lightly massaging before squeezing her nipple. She gasped into his mouth and he gentled his touch, cupping her breast and stroking his thumb over the distended tip.
‘Connor –’ She broke the kiss, trying to marshal her thoughts though she had no real idea of what she wanted to say; she was awash in sensations.
‘I want you.’ He squeezed her nipple again. ‘Bad. I want to fuck you tonight. We made love before and I want that too, but tonight … tonight I want to fuck you. I want you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. I want you on top of me, riding my dick like there’s no tomorrow.’ His hand left her breast and cupped her chin gently. ‘You drive me crazy, Bridget.’
Overwhelmed and damn near panting, Bridget couldn’t manage so much as a “damn, that was hot!”
Fortunately, she was saved from having to respond by their server showing up to take their order.
The janitor! She was screwing the fucking janitor! The gall of that bitch. She’d fuck the janitor but she treated him like he was less than dirt under her shoes. Who the fuck did she think she was?
And who the fuck did he think he was? Whittier saw him just about every day. Emptying his trash. That was where he belonged, not reaching for what belonged to Dale. He had no right to put his hands on what was his.
Whittier threw back the scotch he’d previously been savouring and considered what he’d just seen. Luna Bella was not an establishment he usually frequented, but this was where the theatre’s board had decided to hold their annual dinner. They’d rented a private room at the restaurant to which they’d all adjourned after the screening of a local filmmaker’s documentary on homeless children.
Boring didn’t quite cover the depth of distaste he had for both the board and their pretentious little pack of upstart creatives who all thought they were going to be the next Coppola. But he had a standing to uphold in this community. Appearances were important to his end game.
Luna Bella was across the street from the theatre, making it convenient. Personally, he found the food plebeian compared to what he was used to. He preferred Gia – River Rock’s finest restaurant. Their chef had a Michelin star as well as a James Beard Award. His steak au poivre melted in your mouth. The best thing on the menu at Luna Bella was the Ossobuco, and that was like comparing a Rolls-Royce to a Lexus. No one would deny that the Lexus was a perfectly acceptable car, but it couldn’t compare with the elegance and sheer magnificence of the Rolls.
By the time the food was finished, he’d grown claustrophobic from the hot air the board members were throwing around; each person’s ego fighting for space. He’d followed the waitress who’d been tossing inviting glances his way. He’d figured he’d get her number and maybe even a quick one. She’d headed toward the kitchen and he’d followed. Anything to liven this night up.
Instead, he’d seen Bridget and the motherfucking janitor going at each other like rabbits. His hands had been all over her and hers had been between his legs. That bitch acted like she was so fucking pristine and here she was out in public acting like a total whore.
There was no way he was letting her off the hook now. He’d considered it. He hated that she looked at him with fear. Hated that he felt compelled to coerce and manipulate her. She, of all the women he’d dealt with, was the one he wanted to come to him freely. And, of all the women he’d dealt with, she was the one who rejected him out of hand.
No more. No fucking more.
He’d have her. He’d have her regardless of what she wanted.
He thought of her fighting him. Crying. Begging. Pleading. She’d be sublime in her pain.
His dick hardened.
‘You know,’ a soft voice whispered in his ear, ‘I could help you with that.’
Whittier looked into the heavily made-up eyes of the waitress he’d followed before. She was staring at his erection, her eyes hot with lust.
The rest of the party was so engrossed in trying to one up each other that no one was paying any attention to them. He set his glass on the table and ran his hand up her stockinged leg. He cupped her ass under her skirt. Thong and garters. Easy access.
‘Yes, you can.’ He stood and gestured for her to lead the way.
Later, as he pounded into her from behind in the employee bathroom, he imagined she h
ad red hair and green eyes.
She was going to kill him. Right there in the moment. He would die with the worst damn hard-on and everyone would know that he’d bought it trying to keep his hands off the sexiest woman he’d ever met. He knew he had to keep it together or he was going to wreck everything.
She’d finally trusted him enough to start breaking down her walls and he wasn’t going to wreck it by behaving like an animal. He’d damn near jumped her in the restaurant, but fortunately he’d managed to stop himself. He still had to tread carefully with her. The barrier was falling, just a little, but it was a start.
He’d almost blown it in the alley. Literally and figuratively. He’d been ready to come then too. But going down on her in an alley was no way to get her to come to grips with her sexuality. It would read as sleazy even if it wasn’t meant that way.
With her innate sexiness, she made it so hard for him to stay focused. All she had to do was speak in that low, silky drawl and his cock was standing at attention, begging for her lips to do something other than speak. He’d been serious, he’d been willing to come in his pants right there for her. Anything to keep her hands on him. He hadn’t been able to keep from touching her at the restaurant and now, as they walked the few blocks from Luna Bella to her house, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
The gold silk dress she wore clung to all the right spots, accentuating her full, soft curves. The stiletto heels added height and made her legs seem endless while giving a sway to her walk that mesmerised him. Tendrils of coppery hair floated around her neck despite the attempt to wrangle the curls on top of her head, and a single strand of pearls circled her neck. She was a fantasy. A pin-up mixed with Hollywood starlet, and if he thought he’d come away with both his balls intact, he’d press her up against the nearest wall, find out exactly what she had on under that silk, and bury his cock deep inside her. But you didn’t treat a woman like Bridget with that kind of abandon. Not yet anyway. Her past required deference.
One day, if he handled this right, there’d be no barriers between them and their sexual relationship would be about exploration, not healing. Until then though, she had to be handled gently and with care.
Not that his dick gave a flying damn. He shuddered as it came to life at the thought of being inside Bridget. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his control so rigidly in check. Cold showers weren’t cutting it any more. He loved the progress they’d made. Loved that she allowed him to make love to her, but tonight he wanted her in a way that cut through his control like a hot knife through butter.
‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?’ Bridget was smiling up at him. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mirth in the moonlight.
Rather than dissemble, he shook his head and said, ‘Nope. I’ve been distracted.’ He was surprised to find they were already at her porch.
‘Darlin’, that’s obvious.’ She smiled. The curve of her full lips riveted him. ‘What’s got you so deep in thought that my exposition on Daisy’s latest hijinks isn’t keeping your attention?’
Leaning against the railing of her steps, he pulled her to him, enveloping her in a gentle hug.
‘You, Bridg. You have me distracted.’ Tipping her chin up, he dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. ‘I think I better go home, before I do something that I’ll regret and you might resent.’
She gripped his lapels and held tight as she whispered against his lips, ‘What makes you so sure I’m going to resent what you want to do?’
He pulled her in closer, resting her head on his chest while at the same time pushing his hips against hers so she couldn’t miss his obvious arousal. He waited for her to tense and was surprised when she just melted further against him.
Plunging ahead, he said, ‘That’s why, Bridget. I don’t think you’re ready yet for how I’m feeling tonight and I’m not sure my control will hold tonight.
‘I want you too badly. You feel too good. You look too good. You smell too good. And, dammit, I want inside you more than I want to breathe at the moment. But I’m not feeling gentle, Bridget. I want it rough and hard. And, baby, you need gentle. You need calm and considerate. We’re still feeling our way through this and I don’t know that I can give that to you tonight.’ He took a deep, deep breath and set her away from him. ‘So, I better go.’
Damp, green eyes searched his face for long moments before she turned away reaching for her key. What hope he’d had that she’d take him up on his offer crumbled to ashes. He watched her unlock each lock – the mechanisms that symbolised her scars as much as they protected her – and in that moment he wanted to rip to shreds the man who had so indelibly changed her.
The last lock clicked and she opened the door before turning to him, a tentative smile on her lips.
‘Connor.’ She held her hand out to him.
He took it in his, prepared to give her one last kiss and take his leave.
‘I’m not made of glass, Connor. What I need is for you to treat me like a woman. Your woman. I trust you, baby.’
Gripping her hand tightly, Connor said, ‘Be sure, Bridget. There’s no going back once I start.’
Rather than speak she pulled him closer, raised up on her toes, and kissed him.
He didn’t kiss her, he ravaged her mouth. And, for once, she melted into it. He nipped at her lower lip and sucked gently to eradicate the pain. He walked her backward into her foyer and kicked the door shut behind them.
‘Locks,’ she panted against his mouth and he broke the kiss long enough to slam all the locks tight.
Unwilling to wait, Bridget grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him up against the wall next to her door. She ripped the jacket off and tossed it aside, praying Daisy didn’t decide to use it as a bed later.
As if summoned by the thought, the pit bull terrier came out to greet them and simultaneously they hollered, ‘Daisy, bed!’ Daisy gave them a doggy huff and left in search of her bed, clearly not happy at being excluded, but the last thing Bridget wanted was an audience.
The interruption did nothing to quell the heat between them. It had been building in the time they’d been seeing each other. Growing hotter with each interlude as Connor slowly drew out her sensuality, reminding her she was a woman, not just a female with the requisite body parts. Now, the heat was too much. She might not want to jump off the ledge altogether, but she definitely wanted more than what they’d done the other times.
All of his teasing and play while they were out had left her with a gnawing need inside her. She wanted it satisfied. A plan he was clearly on board with, considering the way he looked at her. Her awareness of him, already heightened from their interlude at the restaurant, grew exponentially.
She could see the pulse at the base of his neck. It was fast and hard; his chest heaved and he all but panted even as his erection tented the cotton of his boxers. She could smell the woodsy, earthy scent of the soap he used and, as she stroked along his skin, she was convinced the small hairs on his body stood at attention. The chemistry between them made manifest.
In another first, she took the lead. Stroking his body, she watched his muscles ripple and flex, dancing under her fingers like he was the puppet to her master. He let her have her way for long minutes. Allowing her to trace his nipples with her fingers. To squeeze and pluck them before leaning in and licking gently, absorbing the feel of the flat discs under her tongue.
He groaned and leaned into her mouth. His hands he kept planted on the wall and her heart squeezed that, even in this moment, he was thinking of her.
It was time for her to think only of him. Time to give him what he gave her.
She sank to her knees in front of him and smiled as his eyes flickered in surprise. He began to reach for her, to pull her up, but she held up a hand and fended him off.
‘Be still, Connor.’
With shaking fingers, she pulled down his boxers. Gripping him in her hand, she licked him and revelled in the moan she got in response. She licked him again and aga
in, treating the silky flesh like an ice cream cone and growing more enthusiastic with each moan, each gasp and groan, until finally he stopped her, saying, ‘Enough. I don’t want to come in your mouth; I want to come in your pussy.’
His graphic words set her blood on fire and had her body clenching in all the right places. Moisture flooded her sex and her nipples were hard. She wanted more. She wanted everything he had to give.
That thought gave her pause. She couldn’t lose herself completely. She might not recover. But she wasn’t going to fail him tonight. Tonight they’d take another step.
Standing, she kicked off her heels and faced him. Reaching up, she slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders and let the silk pool at her feet. Clad in only her thong, garter, and stockings she waited, unsure of where to go from there.
‘Jesus!’ The look in his eyes seemed to scorch her everywhere his eyes trailed over her skin, leaving her feeling physically stroked, and she felt herself sway toward him.
He came for her then, stalking her like a big cat with prey in its sights. Rather than scare her, the leap in her heart and the catch in her breath were all about the need to be possessed by him. Even as she backed up, she wanted him to catch her, and catch her he did.
She could go no further as she felt her ass bump up against the table in the hallway she used for keys and mail. Turning, she thought to tease him by giving him her back; instead, she was brought up short by the sight of them in the mirror that hung over the table. It was so large, she could clearly see them both from the hips up.
He dwarfed her. His bronze skin unbroken in his nakedness. He stepped up behind her, pressing his erection into her ass as he reached around her and cupped her breasts. They were full and swollen with desire, her dusky nipples hard and distended.
His hands were large and still her breasts spilled out of them. His touch was electric as he squeezed her nipples. Zings of pleasure raced through her veins. She closed her eyes …
Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) Page 16
