‘You know about the rape, then?’ Connor blurted, but the shock that passed over Victor’s face said he hadn’t. Connor scowled.
‘Look, I knew she’d had some kind of trauma, I just didn’t know the specifics. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.’ Victor closed his eyes briefly before saying, ‘Why don’t you come sit and talk with me for a minute? Then we’ll figure out what to do about toys for Bridget, OK. I don’t want to do anything that might make things harder for the both of you.’
Connor felt the knot in his chest uncoil as he followed Victor into an elegantly appointed office and workroom. Dominating the room was a drafting table covered in sketches and one of those stand-up forms that looked like a woman’s torso pinned with different fabrics. Various combinations of lingerie hung on the walls. In the back corner, there was a tidy desk sporting a laptop and phone along with some very comfortable looking leather chairs. It was an orderly oasis in the storm of creativity.
‘You want some coffee or something?’ Victor seated himself behind his desk and gestured toward the coffee pot on a small table behind him.
‘No, thanks.’ Connor settled in a chair and waited as Victor poured a cup.
‘You know, I’ve been trying for years to get her to buy something other than that hideous cotton she wears and it wasn’t until you came along that she was even willing to consider it.’
Connor just raised an eyebrow, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to the warm and fuzzy that knowledge gave him.
‘That being said, she damn near broke down just trying that stuff on and it took a hard conversation to get her to even consider actually taking it home.’
‘Her scars run deep.’
Victor snorted. ‘That’s an understatement.’ He took a swig of his coffee, winced at the apparent heat, and set the cup down before meeting Connor’s eyes. ‘What is it you’re really trying to do here, and are you serious when it comes to Bridget? Because frankly, my man, if you’re not, you’d be better off leaving this little avenue alone. She doesn’t need her head fucked with.’
It was Connor’s turn to really scrutinise Victor. He had to give the guy respect, though. The concern in his face was clear and there wasn’t a trace of jealousy. By objective measures, he was sincerely concerned for Bridget’s wellbeing, and that gave him points in Connor’s book.
‘Dude, I don’t know you from a can of paint, so I don’t really owe you an explanation. But I care about Bridget, and from what I can see so do you, so I’ll give –’ Leaning forward, he began to talk with Victor about all of his frustrations and desires for his relationship with Bridget.
He spilled his guts, not bothering to reflect on the fact that he was sharing some of his deepest thoughts with a complete stranger. He needed someone else to talk with about this.
‘The thing that’s killing me here is that I feel like she’s holding back about something beyond her sexual desires. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is. We talk all the time, spend tons of time together, and still I feel like there’s this wall. I guess I think that if I can keep us moving forward in bed, that the rest will fall into place too.’
‘I understand what you’re trying to do, but are you prepared for what might happen if she fights you?’
Connor blanched. He really tried not to think about that.
‘I’ve thought about it. I don’t want to lose her. She’s the best thing to happen to me in for ever, but I feel like we’re not really together either. I mean, if we can’t meet in the middle here, if I can’t know that we’re truly together, then it’s probably better if we end things now.’
Victor sighed. ‘I hear you. I hope this doesn’t go that way. Bridget needs to get out of her head. She’s letting this hold her back and she seems to have a good thing going with you.’
‘I hope so, but I’m definitely feeling my way in the dark here.’
‘Well, let’s get you some help with what you can feel in the dark.’
Connor laughed, ‘Dude, that was awful.’
Victor grinned. ‘I know, but hell, I own the shop. I can crack bad jokes if I want to.’
Connor just shook his head and followed Victor into the playroom. A few strategic selections later, he headed back out onto Main Street full of plans for their upcoming evening together.
‘Have you thought about our conversation about your rape?’
Bridget went rigid at his words and Connor wanted to kick his own ass. So much for planning how to broach this topic. Instead of his carefully planned words, he’d just blurted out something careless.
With a deep sigh, he set his beer down on the coffee table and took Bridget’s hand.
‘Listen, I apologise. I didn’t intend to blurt that out like I did. I actually had some carefully thought out, sensitive words planned.’ He grinned, hoping to lighten the suddenly gloomy mood. ‘But obviously, my mouth got ahead of my brain.’
She smiled, but remained wary.
‘What is it you really want to talk about?’ Bridget leaned back, turning to face him and gripping one of the sofa pillows like a shield.
After his trip to Intimate Moments, Connor had been searching for the right time to broach this topic. While he had promised to give her as much time as she needed, it was becoming pretty clear that she wasn’t going to bring it up.
He’d prepared several of his purchases in the hopes of taking their sex life to the next level. Part of him felt like a greedy bastard to do it, but another part felt like it was critical that Bridget shed her notions of shame around her desires if they were ever truly going to be together. He wasn’t ashamed of his desires. He didn’t want her to be.
Connor raked a hand through his hair. Suddenly, the wisdom of this conversation no longer seemed clear.
‘I was curious if you’d put any more thought into the idea that your rape was not, in fact, punishment for enjoying kinky sex.’
‘I’ve thought about it.’ She picked at the trim of the pillow rather than look at him.
Frustration took root in his belly, but he clamped down on it.
‘And?’
Defiant green eyes met his own, ‘I don’t see why it matters.’ She leaned forward as she spoke, her voice growing urgent, ‘I mean, we have great sex. Don’t we? It’s certainly the best I’ve ever had. Why do we even have to worry about it?’
Connor felt his jaw drop open. It took a few seconds for his brain to reboot and he scowled.
‘You don’t see why it matters?’
She nodded and smiled.
‘Are you insane?’ he hollered.
She flinched and Connor almost smacked himself. He was handling this badly. He drew in a deep breath and counted to ten. It was important that he remember she’d spent two decades convinced she was wrong to enjoy pain during sex or any kind of kink.
‘Bridget, do you understand that I want to do much more to you than what we’ve done?’
She flushed, but didn’t respond. If anything, she drew in upon herself. He pressed on, his voice gruff with need.
‘I want to spank you and watch your skin turn pink and then I want to fuck you hard so that you feel that burn the whole time I do. I want to tie you up and have you at my mercy while I do whatever I want to you. If that’s make you cry right before I make you scream as you come, so be it.’
He could see her breathing hitch and her nipples harden under the cotton of her shirt. His cock stirred in response.
Damn it! That is why this was so important. She wants it too!
‘Fuck, Bridg. Don’t you see? My dick is hard just talking about it. And, baby, whether you’re willing to deal with this or not, you want it too.’
He gave her no time to respond; he reached out and squeezed her nipple hard. She jerked away, flushing red.
‘Your nipples are hard, Bridget. Tell me the truth. Is your pussy wet too?’
She closed her eyes and refused to look at him.
‘Look at me!’ He was damn near yelling at her. Her stub
bornness was infuriating him.
Her eyes popped open. They were swimming with tears.
He almost caved. Almost let her off the hook, but this was important to him.
It would be a different story if she honestly didn’t want this. No one had a right to force anyone to go against their beliefs. This wasn’t honest, though.
She wanted it too. She was letting an irrational belief stop her from experiencing this and worse, she was internalising shame over it. That’s why he could not let this go.
‘Answer me.’ He took her hand, but remained firm. ‘Are you wet, baby? Does the thought of pain mixed in with pleasure excite you?’
Tears, shiny and wet, slid down her cheeks as she nodded.
‘Why does that make you cry?’ He believed he understood, but she needed to understand she was wrong.
‘Because I don’t trust myself to know. I doubt myself and I’m scared of making another mistake in judgment. My first one ended up with me getting raped.’ Her words were drowned in tears as sobs took hold of her body.
He gathered her into his body, sitting her on his lap like a small child. She cried helpless, wracking sobs as he held her and whispered words of comfort and love.
He loved her. He knew it in his heart. He also knew that it wouldn’t be enough if they didn’t cross this hurdle together.
Ultimately, it wasn’t about the sex. It was about having no emotional barriers between the two of them. If she kept this wall up when she so clearly wanted it, they likely wouldn’t survive.
He’d debated back and forth over whether he was pushing something out of selfishness, but he didn’t think he was. The kink was just the symptom. This was about trust. This was about sharing something with someone that you gave to no one else. This was about honesty at its deepest level.
She was being dishonest. This was something she wanted. She craved. And she was denying herself out of misplaced guilt and fear. This would only grow and infect the rest of their relationship.
He could let the kink go, never ask her for it again, but it wouldn’t change the foundation of dishonesty.
No. He wasn’t going to let up.
He wasn’t, however, a complete asshole. He wouldn’t force the issue any further tonight.
When her sobs finally died down, Connor went and got a damp washcloth from her bathroom. As he gently wiped her cheeks, he said, ‘I understand your fear, Bridget. But if you don’t trust yourself in this, why don’t you consider trusting me until you do?’
She cupped his face and kissed him. Her kiss was urgent, almost panicked.
He knew a refusal when he got one.
Bridget kissed Connor as if that kiss would save her soul. She’d been more than wet at his words; she’d been two seconds away from falling to her knees and begging him to make it all real.
She didn’t want to deal with this. She didn’t want to take the risk.
She wanted him to drop this subject. She wasn’t ready and she didn’t want to argue. As she kissed her way down his body and took his cock in her mouth, she was determined to make him forget all about it.
Chapter Twenty-four
‘Calm down, sugar.’ Bridget chuckled as she took the Mustang smoothly into the turn lane. ‘If you fidget any more, you’re going to wear a hole in my leather seat.’
He scowled in her direction. He’d been in poor humour all day. She had a feeling it had a lot to do with what hadn’t happened last night. She’d found the toys in his nightstand this morning. One look at the handcuffs and flogger and she was especially glad she’d managed to take his mind off using them on her.
At least, she’d thought she had, but he’d been edgy and surly all day. It was enough to put her on edge as well. Needless to say, she’d been grateful when she’d gotten the invite from Claire to dinner. Claire had specifically said to bring Connor along. Apparently, it was time to bring him into the fold.
In truth, it warmed her heart that her friends cared enough to do this. She hoped they’d all hit it off. Even though she was confident they would, that niggle of concern was always there until something was said and done.
‘I’m just tired,’ he said as he looked off into the distance.
‘Well, I did wear you out last night.’ She laughed and smiled at him, only to falter a bit at the strained smile he forced in return.
‘You certainly put the moves on.’ He squeezed her hand but his tone was distant. An icy worm turned circles in her belly.
She’d done everything she could think of last night to show him how good sex was between them without the need to venture into the shadowy areas she preferred to keep in the dark.
She understood his point. She truly did. And she’d be a complete liar to say she didn’t want to do exactly what he suggested. But why did they have to? Why was it becoming a point of contention?
No. She wasn’t backing down on this. They were good the way they were and there was no need to complicate things with questions that didn’t need answering. It was a small sacrifice in the long term.
He would just have to understand.
‘Do your friends know what I do?’ He sounded like he was choking on the words.
Instantly, she softened. Here she was being completely self-centred, thinking this had to be about her, and he was worried about being embarrassed or judged for his chosen occupation.
‘You mean that you’re a phenomenal artist, sexy and intelligent, and rock my world in bed?’
She took his hand and damn near crashed the car at the fury in his face.
‘Connor!’ she gasped, seeing him so angry. ‘Yes, I told them what you do. They don’t care. I would never disrespect you that way. I’m not ashamed of anything you do.’
He mussed his hair as he raked a hand through it and blew out a breath.
‘I apologise, Bridg.’ He kissed the back of her hand. ‘It’s not even that I really care about what they’ll think of me, but if anyone were to disrespect you over it, I think I’d get an assault charge.’
Her heart squeezed at his concern for her. That he’d come to her rescue the way he would was one of the reasons she loved him.
The breath in her chest dissolved at the realisation that she did love him. Not just that, she wanted to be with him. For good. The words leaped to her lips, only to die as she thought of Dean Whittier. She hadn’t told Connor and, frankly, didn’t plan to. His very willingness to jump to her rescue was exactly why she needed to finish this with the dean. No, only when the road was clear in front of them would she tell him. Until then, she’d have to show him.
She pulled the Mustang into the alley behind Claire and Evan’s brownstone. Turning off the engine, she faced Connor and took his face in her hands.
‘You have nothing to worry about, sugar. I have the best friends in the world and I have the best man in the world. The two can’t help but come together like peanut butter and jelly.’
He laughed at her deliberate corniness and she felt warm inside again at seeing him smile for real.
Leaning over the centre console, she kissed him gently, brushing her lips across his. She wanted to take him into her arms and make all of his pain from being rejected and judged go away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love and desire into this communion of lips and tongue.
When they finally parted both were breathless.
Connor smiled that crooked smile she loved and murmured, ‘Keep that up and I’ll be turning this car around, Ms Ross.’
She grinned. ‘Mmm, I like that idea. Except I don’t think Evan will stand for it.’ She nodded over his shoulder to where Evan was standing, arms crossed across his chest and one imperious eyebrow raised.
With a laugh, she wiped the lipstick from Connor’s mouth and got out of the car.
‘Why are you looking like a fearsome grizzly, Evan?’ She reached into the backseat for the wine she and Connor had brought as their contribution to dinner.
‘He hasn’t passed the test yet
and he’s out here with his tongue down your throat. I’m supposed to be intimidating and scary, Bridget. Don’t you know anything?’ His voice was deliberately whiny.
Connor laughed and held out a hand, which Evan shook firmly. ‘It’s good to know she’s got other people looking out for her. She’s a handful.’
‘You figured that out, did you?’
‘Figured it out? She more or less hit me over the head with it the moment we met.’
‘Really?’ Evan grinned at Bridget. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard that story yet.’
‘Hey now,’ she called at them as they left her to follow, but she wasn’t truly upset. That her two favourite men had so obviously hit it off made her happy. This was going to be a good night.
‘Bridget says you’re an artist, Connor.’
Connor flinched. He never liked discussing his art. It was just too personal. He almost never showed it to anyone. Of all the women he’d dated, Bridget was only the second to ever see his work. It was too much like putting his soul on display and it made him feel too exposed.
‘I dabble, but I’m not a professional artist,’ he said, deflecting Claire’s question.
The night had gone better than he’d expected. Bridget’s friends were a welcoming group. Mona, he’d gotten to know pretty well from her café, but Claire and Evan made an intriguing couple. He got the impression there was more going on to that pairing than met the eye.
It was in the little touches and phrases between the two of them. She’d jokingly called him “sir” at one point and Evan’s reaction had been anything but joking. He’d looked like he wanted to throw his wife on the table and have his way with her, audience be damned.
Yeah, he had a feeling those two were definitely kinky.
Which only furthered his frustration where Bridget was concerned. Her best friend was obviously kinky so she’d had exposure to the idea of it not being wrong. He took a deep breath to dispel the frustration that flared at the memory of how Bridget had soundly shut him down the night before.
Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) Page 19
